#if that was how it was happening and I just wasn't aware somehow then that's on me

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo wanted to move and sit beside her to wrap her into a hug in an attempt to comfort her about his cultist counter part. However he was still flinching at contact and was nervous about getting in trouble from absent orderlies if he was caught too close to someone else. It broke his heart though, that he wasn't able to offer it in the moment and worse that a version of himself had done so much damage to Violet. To the point he had scared her far worse than Sloane could have ever managed. It also worried him what might happen if he one day lost all control and sense. "I am sorry he got to you," Theo voiced cautiously instead. "It is awful what he did to you and you have every right and reason to be cautious now."

He let out another low and short chuckle at him being able to handle Ben and therefore most agents. "He has been a great test for sure," he said fondly, still of course very proud and protective of his family. "He's a very sweet boy," he smiled to himself again and toyed absently with the cuff of his shirt. "Not a lot of agents are all too sweet though, I am rarely good news for them." At least he was much better news that some of the alternatives, right?

Glad that the topic of the Apocalypse Club was dropped, Theo nodded his understanding of her promise around future letters from Delta Green. "I would appreciate that. And I am very glad to hear you have reconsidered." He told her in perhaps quite a corporate way but it was at least well meant.

"You had me very worried for a long time when you said you wanted to become an agent," he confessed as carefully as those words could be said, worried about her taking offense somehow. "While your inventions are brilliant, I don't trust them not to put you in harms way unnecessarily. You're well aware of how dangerous it is out there and there's a war on two fronts with monsters and cultists around the rest of humanity." He let his eyes settle on her for a moment as he considered all the danger that actually surrounded them. "I just want you all to be safe." It was all he ever wanted.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"I just... don't like that he had such an impact on me," she admitted, "I don't like that he hurt me, that because of him I can't sit next to the big windows." No one else had managed that. Not even Sloane. She wasn't scared of being alone in the workshop because he had tried to kidnap her there. But she was scared of heights because of Evil Theo. It made her feel like he had gotten in her head, somehow, and now was festering.

Her dad's joke dragged a happy chuckle out of her. It was a relief, to hear him joke again. Surely it meant he was getting better. Surely it meant he was going to get back to normal. Violet had to cling to that, so the guilt wouldn't suffocate her completely. "I bet the agents are shakin' in their boots when you go to lecture them," she laughed, "if you can stop Ben from painting on the walls, you can stop any agent from doing something stupid."

The matter of the Apocalypse Club seemed to be closed, and Violet knew when to pick her battles. She wouldn't learn anything else about them, not today. But at least she knew they were a sort of cultist mafia, and that they were in New York. And if her dad was hunting them, then she'd have to be careful. Avoid that address. She wondered who they worshipped, but knew it was best to keep that question for later.

"I guess we couldn't," she confirmed with a little smile, "but now we can." She nodded. "I promise I'll be wary. And I promise that if I ever get another letter, I'll show it to you first. I'm not interested in what they have to say to me, anyway." Besides, she was still upset that Davidson had stolen her trap and pretended it was his own design.

[the-casbah-way]

sometimes being so overly sensitive makes it hard to function like how do people do it. today we drove past three dead pheasants and i'm expected to be fine about the fact that they died alone and in pain and everyone keeps driving as if they never mattered. as if they didn't live and breathe and think. ok

[thecherrygod]

/

[beast-of-the-void]

.

[asofspades]

Thanks for the tag!

The most interesting thing about me, I don't know

I mean, I literally threw myself out of my crib at two and landed flat on my head and somehow nothing happened to me

I turned yellow a day after being home from the hospital when I was born and they had to leave me there again for a week.

And my mother wanted to name me after my grandma who was dying of cancer, my grandma basically begged her not to do that because she said that would be bad luck for me and my mother ignored her and ended up naming me like my grandma, and now she doesn't accept I want to change my name.

I had a classmate of mine become my stalker for some years, he would even send other kids to give me encrypted messages, he found my mobile number somehow when I got my first mobile and everything. But nobody would believe the lies he told about me because even the people who had beef with me for some reason knew I hated social interaction and was too unbothered to do anything he said I was doing.

One of my besties in highschool and I were both huge mythology nerds and we thought that was normal so we didn't suspect we both were neuro divergent and since we were both going through puberty we didn't realise we were experiencing gender dysphoria because we thought since the other also experienced it it must be normal😂

A college classmate clocked me as autistic on our first interaction when I wasn't even aware I was and he just blurted out "well, since you're autistic" in a conversation one day, I found that really funny. He was also the same guy who told me "should I act surprised?" When I told him I was agender 😂

I find those things really entertaining, don't know how interesting people find them.

Tags

@leo-dumb-teen-boy

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

[coockie8]

so you dont think hazbin hotel will actually come out in january??

As I've said in the past; I'll believe it's coming out when it comes out.

[hannieehaee]

ENDLESSLY

18+ / mdi

summary: despite not having a large audience, jungkook's camboy career prevailed with the hopes that someday he'd make enough money to finally leave his dead-end job. what happens when one of his admirers offers to make that dream come true?

content: camboy!jungkook x trustfundbaby!reader, jungkook is shy, jungkook is a faceless camboy with a very small audience, reader is younger than jk, kind of pathetic!jungkook, reader is rich and very confident, slowburn (kind of), afab reader, smut, camming, masturbation (m receiving), oral (f receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.7k

a/n: this really was just a spur of the moment fic that came to mind on a random thursday lol i hope u guys enjoy it!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Well, that's it for today guys, thanks for watching."

With an awkward chuckle, Jungkook reached out to his computer screen and shut the laptop closed, groaning just as he stopped being out of earshot.

233 viewers.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to give Jungkook the hope that maybe someday he'd be able to find pride in the number. Maybe his streams would blow up in views overnight one of these days – the hope prevailed. It had been a month since he hit the 200's, now garnering an average of 250 viewers per stream.

It was quite embarrassing to him sometimes. There were instances in which he'd finish a stream and regain full consciousness of his actions, becoming embarrassed at the knowledge of strangers watching him cum — of them hearing his voice and his whimpers as he played it up for their entertainment — and of him not even being able to make a living out of it.

He had to stay creative, sometimes finding scripts online that he'd read out to his viewers while he jerked off, playing the role of a subby coworker or a dominant childhood friend in order to keep his audience engaged (and maybe incite one or two to send money his way). Other times, he'd simply ramble about his life (but never get too specific) whilst he let himself lose control on camera.

Jungkook never once showed his face, only ever giving people glimpses at the tattoos decorating his arm and of his cock as it stood against his abs. The most he'd ever shown had been a small view of his lips before the camera's frame cut off.

He liked it this way.

In reality, he was too shy to ever be outspoken about doing such a thing, which was why no one in his life knew about it. He didn't judge anyone who enjoyed camming, but he was simply too self-conscious to do such a thing. Despite being aware of how handsome people thought him to be, he had never been too forward when it came to sex, much less this.

This had all started a little over a year ago, when he'd come across a few cammers on Twitter late into the night. Going on their accounts out of sheer curiosity, he realized that they each had a large following, not only on Twitter, but also on camming websites. Some of them even had their Patreons and PayPal accounts linked to their accounts, amassing even more revenue from these third party websites on top of their income from the camming sites. This was what mainly caught his attention.

Part of him felt bad about being on it solely for the money, but he was beyond desperate. And so he held the false hope that he'd somehow have the same luck as them and create an income out of this.

As someone who had only recently graduated university, having found no luck in his field, Jungkook had to resort to applying to jobs he felt were below his level of expertise. Having no connections in his field and no call-backs from employers, he found himself working a part time at a gas station accompanied by a part time at a grocery store. Both jobs were miserable to him.

The jobs themselves were not horrible, but attempting to manage both schedules and both sets of responsibilities was slowly weighing down on him. His coworkers were also not the best to be around. And did he mention the commute to each establishment? That part ate up at his days drastically, leaving him with almost no time for rest.

Jungkook knew that he should've given up on camming a long time ago. Hell, he'd made a grand total of $876 dollars in the past year he'd been at it. That would be a laughable amount to all the cammers that had inspired him into taking such a profession. But he didn't have any other prospects. Even as he worked his two jobs and cammed, he continued to search for more fulfilling (and better paying) employment, but was unable to ever even get any callbacks.

And so now he found himself doing about three streams per week, getting more and more discouraged each time he'd end a stream with the same low number of viewers.

With yet another sigh, Jungkook got up to go clean himself up, lethargic in his movements due to both the physical and mental exhaustion of having worked all day, only to come back home for a lowly appreciated stream.

Coming back from a much needed hot shower, he did his usual skin care before heading back to bed, where he had been recording just now. For a moment he pondered whether he should go to sleep now in order to get ready for work early next morning or to indulge in watching some anime as a reward for the tiring day.

Going for the latter, he opened his computer back up, sighing again when he remembered he hadn't closed the tab in which he'd been camming.

But before he could actually tap out of it, something caught his attention, making his eyes widen more than he thought possible.

burner98 donated $1,000

This must've been some sort of mistake. Right? Maybe they mistyped? No one in their right mind would donate such an amount to a faceless cammer ranking up to less than a thousand weekly views.

All his prior donations had been in the lower numbers, usually only ever amounting up to $20. Never had he ever gotten someone to donate anything in the triple digits, much less going into the quadruples.

The name of the donor also caught his attention. Babystarcandy. It was a frequent watcher who had been in attendance to every single stream of his starting a few months back — which was when they'd first made an appearance in his audience.

He had never noticed this viewer in particular, though they were one of the only people to ever grant him donations. They'd usually donate whilst he was off stream, which he found slightly strange but never questioned. Checking through his donation history, he saw this name listed three times prior, with donations of $5, $15 and $20 respectively. They'd happened throughout the months, with no pattern in particular. It made no sense for them to donate such a high amount to Jungkook out of nowhere, especially not while he wasn't actively on stream.

With a heavy heart and half a mind to simply keep the money, he decided to message the donor to inform them of their mistake and follow through with a refund.

So much for his anime binge before bed.

babystarcandy - Hey, burner98. Thank you so much for the kind donation, but I think you made a mistake. I'll refund you.

He decided to go with something kind of formal. After all, he'd never spoken to this person before.

Surprisingly, the response came within minutes. Being three in the morning, he assumed you'd wait til the following day to reply, but maybe you were in a different time zone.

burner98 - omg hiii !! did i make a mistake ?? im sorry !! i meant to send 1k. did it not go through correctly ?

Had that not been an accident? One thousand dollars?

This made no sense. Why would you send him such a large amount out of nowhere? That was more than he'd made in the entire past year. Hell, that was half his rent.

Jungkook had no idea how to respond to you.

As much as he wanted to accept it, it felt like robbing you of a fortune.

babystarcandy - Gosh, hi! No, the thousand came through, it's just ... Are you sure this is correct? This is a lot of money ... I'd feel terrible taking so much from you

Once again, you responded almost immediately.

burner98 - haha ur so cute

burner98 donated $2,000

burner98 - is that better ? ;)

Holy fucking shit.

Jungkook's hands were shaking at this point. His eyes couldn't believe what was right in front of him.

Quickly, he took out his phone to check his baking app, checking to see if the deposits were legitimate. Upon opening it, he found that his balance had in fact gone up $3,000. This was far more money than he'd ever had in his bank account.

He stared blankly at it for a few moments without so much as breathing. A reminder to snap out of his trance arrived in the form of another chime coming from his computer — a new message from you.

burner98 - did i scare u off :((

burner98 - just wanna help u out :(((

Immediately, he rushed to respond, not even thinking before typing anymore.

babystarcandy - no! not at all! this is just so much money. i dont want you getting yourself into financial trouble for me

Within seconds, you responded.

burner98 - haha it's okay i can afford it dont worry <3

He furrowed his brows worriedly, typing up yet another message.

babystarcandy - i really dont mean to sound ungrateful, but why ? it's so much money ... this is life-altering type of money for me (as made up as that may sound) my content isn't even that good. why are you giving me this?

He knew he was shooting himself in the foot by questioning it so much and not simply accepting it, but he'd learned through his life that good things don't just come out of nowhere. He needed more details. At least for his peace of mind.

burner98 - i adoooore ur content. u've helped me so much u have noooo idea !!! u deserve it !! u mentioned in ur live a week ago u were struggling with money, so ofc id wanna help u out pretty <3

Fuck. You actually liked his content? His content was worth $3,000 to you?

Jungkook was almost sure he had accidentally fallen asleep before he even opened his computer. Pinching himself a few times proved for this to be actually real.

babystarcandy - thank you so much. you have no idea how much this means to me.

babystarcandy - there has to be some way i can repay you.

Was he propositioning himself to you?

Not even Jungkook was sure. He had no idea what he was offering to you, but it was the middle of the night and he was extremely grateful. He couldn't help himself as he typed up that message and sent it.

burner98 - oh ? what would u suggest ?

Oh, fuck. You were agreeing. Okay ... Now what? Jungkook had nothing to offer. He was an amateur cammer with nothing to his name. What could some random person on the internet with tons of disposable income possibly want from him?

babystarcandy - maybe i could give you a call to thank you ? you know, one on one ?

He mentally kicked himself as soon as he sent that message.

What the hell was he thinking, offering up a personal call to some random person online? This could be a friendless creep for all he knew. He had no identifying information about you, other than knowing you apparently had a vast disposable income. I mean, hell, your account name was burner98, you clearly did not want to leave any traceable information about you.

Before he could backtrack (not that he would actually have the balls to), the three dots on your side of the conversation popped up, followed by another message from you.

burner98 - really ??? :00 that'd be amazing omg ... are you free tomorrow ? i'll make it worth your while <3

Staring at the $3,000 sitting cozy on his bank account, he didn't even let himself think before agreeing, sending a quick message in confirmation. He had work tomorrow, but maybe calling off would be worth it considering you were hinting at even more money.

Jungkook felt dirty for some reason, despite knowing what camming truly entailed. However, he also knew that there was nothing morally wrong with what he was doing, so he pushed that shyness to the back of his mind and began drafting up some sort of goodbye message that encapsulated your plans to call tomorrow and a few more thank you's for your donations.

burner98 donated $5,000

burner98 - just a little thank u for ur kindness ;) see u tomorrow baby ~

Jungkook had to swallow the gasp that was about to leave his body. Five thousand dollars??

You'd managed to drop eight thousand dollars on him within an hour's time. This was four months of his rent. Jungkook had never had this much money lying in his bank account. Its mere presence was making him nervous.

Not only that, but the thought of talking to someone who had this much money to give without a second thought scared him shitless.

There was no way he'd sleep tonight.

In the end, Jungkook ended up sleeping a total of three hours. With his working schedule, it was common for him to catch about five hours of sleep every night, so this wasn't too out of the norm. Last night had been different, however, as he had simply been unable to sleep due to all the tossing and turning in anticipation for today.

As soon as he woke up, he checked his bank account again to make sure last night hadn't been some sort of twisted dream. Following that, he called up both of his jobs in order to call in sick. That granted him a total of two days without work (nor pay) due to the flu he had made up.

Now he sat in front of his laptop, fake sick and waiting for you to call him.

Last night, you'd agreed on calling him on Zoom at around 12PM in his timezone. Currently at 12:18PM, he sat anxiously waiting for your arrival. Sporting a simple tank top and some basketball shorts, he pondered whether he should take anything off in advance, not sure if you wanted him to give you a private show or not. You hadn't discussed the details of the call, but surely you'd want something of that nature, right? I mean, you only knew him through his streams after all.

His wait was not too prolonged, as he heard the familiar notification chime come from his computer only moments later. It was a zoom link sent by burner98.

You were here.

Angling his webcam so it'd only show below his chin on camera, he nervously clicked on the link and joined the call. It connected after just a few moments.

In front of him was a black screen with the name burner98 attached to it. You'd chosen to remain anonymous to him by keeping your camera off.

Then he heard a tiny gasp, your microphone icon lighting up along with it.

"Oh my god!! Hi!", you sounded very happy to see him, causing his skin to heat up. He wasn't used to getting any reactions on his streams, seeing as he couldn't hear his audience.

"H-hi," he stammered, awkwardly clearing his throat afterwards.

"I didn't think you'd show ... Wow, you look so pretty," you said absentmindedly, almost as if entranced by him despite only being able to see his torso.

He could hear the smile in your voice. You sounded young and girlish, completely different from what he'd expected.

Truthfully, he had either expected some virgin creep around his age or maybe a lonely middle aged woman in desperate need of some action. Yet your voice sounded appealing to him. He could almost picture what you looked like. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he pictured a pretty girl on the other side of the screen. Unless you were using some sort of voice distortion. You could never be too sure nowadays.

"Uh, yeah, of course I came. Thank you again for, uh, the money," he felt awkward as he said it, not sure of how to properly convey his gratitude, but knowing he'd done a terrible job at it just now.

Luckily for him, you merely giggled at his awkwardness.

"It's not a problem!! I'm happy to help. Sorry I didn't send anything before ... I wasn't sure how you'd take it," you trailed off, "Was it okay that I sent it? I swear it's no trouble for me, but I didn't mean to intimidate you or anything. I know that can be a lot of money," you added.

"It's totally fine, hah," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, accidentally lowering his body enough for you to see his chin and lips on screen, "I'm really thankful for it, truly. You have no idea how much this helps."

"Fuck, you're so pretty ..." you whispered to yourself before responding to his statement, "I'm happy to hear that! It's awkward to say this in person, but I really do love your content. You're so underrated."

You were very confident in the way you spoke, almost completely ignoring the context of this whole conversation. In the meantime, Jungkoook felt extremely awkward and nervous, unsure of where this was going.

"Thank you so much ..." he mumbled shyly, "Uh, do you want- What would you like me to do? You know, to, uh, express my gratitude?", he cringed at his wording, hearing an almost inaudible chuckle coming from you after.

"You don't have to strip for me or anything," you giggled after a short pause, "I really just wanted to talk to you," you added shyly. He could picture you putting your hair behind your ear, "Is that odd? Sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," you added with another small laugh.

He could hear the smile in your voice at every statement. Your demeanor was just very contagious. It almost made him feel like this call was a reward of its own. It had been a while since someone spoke to him with such kindness, especially considering the grand favor you'd just done for him.

"Could I-," he started, "Could I see you? It feels a little strange being the only one with my camera on," he tried to play it off with a dry chuckle, but he knew the request was an odd one. He was the one who chose to put himself out there, not you.

"Maybe next time?", you suggested, "I'm just a little shy, sorry," for the first time, your tone matched his awkward one, making him grimace at even thinking about asking to see you in the first place.

"How old are you?", he asked before he could stop himself.

"You're very curious about me, huh?", you giggled, "I'm 23. How old are you?"

You were 23? And you already had this much money to give him without a second thought? Who were you?

"You're 23? That's- Wow, I expected older," he admitted, despite thinking your voice matched your age.

"Is it because of the money?", you asked.

"Yeah, hah, Sorry, just-"

"It's okay, baby, you can ask me whatever you want. If you're willing to answer some questions too," you added, not pushy, but more so encouraging, "You didn't answer my question, by the way."

"Oh, sorry ... I'm 24. Can I really ask questions?"

"Yeah, baby, go ahead," there was a big smile in your voice. He could tell you enjoyed when he engaged in conversation. And to be honest, he was enjoying it too.

"How come ... I mean, you're young and- and you sound like, like you're pretty. And you seem to be well off, so ... how come you're on here?", he hoped his question didn't come off as rude, or that he wasn't rushing things. He felt selfish in admitting it, but he hoped that this would not be the only time you ever donated to him.

"Aw, you think I'm pretty? But you've never seen me?", you teased.

"I mean, what I meant was-"

"It's okay, pretty. You don't have to explain," you giggled, "To answer your question ... I came across your stream on accident, and your voice was just so-", you cleared your throat, "so fucking pretty. The way you read the scripts or those times you'd just rant while you played with yourself ... Fuck. I never thought I could be so attracted to someone I'd never really met or even seen," you were getting carried away, but the shifting tone of your voice had Jungkook's interest peeked, "When you mentioned struggling financially in one of your streams, I just felt this need to take care of you ... Sorry, is that weird?", you chuckled awkwardly by the end, likely embarrassed by your ramble.

He shook his head, "N-no! I understand. I'm glad you enjoy the content. I didn't think it was good, since I don't get that many views," he lamented to himself, "Thank you for wanting to take care of me, I have been struggling lately. You're really saving my life," he exaggerated a bit, but it felt truthful at the time.

"I'll help you out even more in the future, baby. Don't worry," he could hear the pout in your voice, basically cooing at his lamentations.

"You really don't have to-", he raised his arms to convey his point, only to be interrupted by you.

"I want to! It's really no trouble for me. I have a lot more to give. Trust me," you insisted.

You stopped speaking for some seconds before humming to yourself, seemingly thinking to yourself. When you spoke up again was when the atmosphere shifted for Jungkook.

"How about we make a deal?"

It sounded ominous as you said it. Jungkook couldn't lie when he said that the question made his heart drop. You didn't seem weird or threatening thus far, but he really did not want to enter a situation in which he gave you some sort of sexual favor in exchange for money. Camming already made him shy enough. He didn't think he had it in him to do more explicit things.

"I- I don't-"

"I'll send you an allowance if you keep streaming regularly," you started, "and I'll double it if you call me again. Just to talk," you suggested, giving him some room in order to respond.

"You want me to c-call you?", he parroted.

"I've really enjoyed talking to you, and I'd love to do it again," you admitted, "Please let me take care of you."

His blood stopped pumping for a moment.

The offer sounded far too good for him to refuse. Money for him to keep doing what he was already doing? And even more just to talk to you? This sounded like one of those sugar daddy situations he'd hear about on Twitter, but without the explicit bits.

Jungkook pondered over it for a few silent moments, humming to himself when he found the answer he wanted to give. He didn't have anything to lose after all.

"Okay. I'll do it," he decided, gulping nervously immediately after agreeing.

"Really?", you sounded elated as you asked, "You want to keep talking? I didn't scare you off?"

"Of course not. It's not everyday you get such a deal, you know," he shamelessly allowed himself to admit, "And you're nice to talk to."

He wasn't sure whether he was buttering you up or if he actually meant it. He'd need a few more conversations to decide.

"Great! Oh, baby, I'm so glad!," you clapped your hands excitedly, cheery in your demeanor.

"You can, uh, call me JK if you want," he added, noticing how you kept going back and forth between pet names. It just felt a bit awkward to him at the moment.

"Okay, JK. Tell me, how's your day been?"

Settling comfortably, he continued the conversation, nerves easing after a while as he attempted to match your energy. Although he still had his alerts high, he felt more at ease as the conversation evolved, with your demeanor becoming contagious to him.

You only spoke for a few hours. At some point Jungkook became so absorbed in it, he didn't realize how easy it was for him to talk to you about his goals, his time as a cammer, his day to day life, or any other mundane subject that you brought up. He kept personal details to himself (as did you), even turning off his camera at some point in order to lessen how self aware he felt. You were nice to him all throughout, showing genuine interest in him yet not a single ounce of lust or any ulterior motives.

After a while, you were the one to finally bid your goodbyes, claiming you had things to take care of and couldn't stay longer. With the agreement to call you a few times per week, you coo'd and pouted at having to hang up, making Jungkook feel a slight ting of disappointment at the conversation ending.

Within a few weeks, Jungkook's life changed drastically.

His streams and your calls continued swiftly, amassing to a total of two of each per week. Usually, he'd call you for about an hour or so before coming on stream for another hour.

On those days he'd garner about $3,000 from you. Jungkook felt quite rich at the moment.

Against his better judgment, he quit his job at the gas station and lowered his hours as a grocery store clerk. He had a high amount of savings now, thanks to you, so he didn't see the point in remaining miserable in not one, but two jobs. Despite keeping one of his jobs as a fall-back plan, he still had tons of free time at his will due to the streams of money coming his way — with all of it being your money.

A few calls in, he found out a bit more about you, which answered many of his questions. However, your meek promise of letting him see you had been untrue, as he still had no idea what you looked like nor did he know your name. Granted, you also didn't know those things about him, but you'd seen him jerk off on screen, so you still had an advantage over him.

Among the things he found out about you was the source of your vast income. Apparently, you were the daughter of a CEO. Jungkook was not granted the specifics, but you'd told him that your father was the owner of a few multimillion dollar companies, which was how you attained your seemingly endless stream of income. Your father would routinely send you about ten times the amount you gave Jungkook weekly, which left him dizzy at attempting to do the math.

Along with this bit of lore about you, Jungkook was also shocked to find out you lived in the same area as him. While Jungkook lived in a rundown part of LA, you were living comfortably in a wealthier, high end area. This knowledge had also shocked you, even causing you to bring up a cheeky suggestion of meeting him in person, but it was merely brought up as a passing comment and never discussed again.

Currently, he found himself in his same apartment, not feeling secure enough in this agreement to move onto a nicer area. As naive as it may have sounded, Jungkook did trust your word when you said you were interested in taking care or him financially, however, he knew that realistically he could not count on your money forever. You didn't know each other personally, and his streaming career would not last forever (especially considering that his views were only in the 500s at the time). He opted to save most of the money you kept him, likely to use some of it to pay off college and some for safekeeping. As of now, however, his lifestyle remained pretty much the same.

Much like every other Thursday, today Jungkook was preparing himself to start another stream in a couple of hours. On most streaming days, he'd call you to talk and simply hang out before starting a stream. Today, however, he had received a message from you before he could log in to contact you.

burner98 - hey jk !! i cant talk right now ㅠㅠ would it be okay if u call me after ur stream ?? i'll still be able to tune in !!

Jungkook didn't think too much of it, simply replying in agreement and moving onto something else to fill up the time. He prepared for his stream as per usual, opting to ramble as he jerked off for the duration of this stream, not having a script or prompt to roleplay this time around.

Setting up his usual equipment, he reached over to his pc to angle it correctly, only showing below his lips in order to protect his anonymity. With a deep breath, he uncovered his webcam and turned on the stream, immediately taking note of about 60 people entering all at once.

"Hey guys," he chuckled breathily, "It's me again, Babystarcandy. Welcome back to my subscribers and welcome in to anyone who might be new," he began, "Today is gonna be a more casual stream if that's okay? I'll be, uh, edging and rambling for a while. Maybe not too much rambling, since you know how into it I get," he trailed off.

One of his key features as a cammer was his usual commitment to being a sub. He'd often get praise about how 'pathetic' and 'subby' he could be. Most of his donations occurred on his subbier streams, when he'd roleplay some subby role or when he'd jerk off, torturing himself into a pathetic mess. In reality, this was Jungkook's natural state when it came to sex. He had always taken a more submissive and sensitive role when it came to his personal relationships. Sadly, though, he had not gotten any action outside of camming in a few months due to his hectic work schedule.

Quickly squirting some lotion on his hand, Jungkook began to work himself, slow in his movements as to prolong the experience. He wanted this to last a good twenty minutes or so.

"H-how are you guys?", he asked, glad to see there were about 200 people in now.

A few commenters popped up — the usual loyal commenters who'd encourage him throughout, expressing their arousal at the sight of him.

"S-hit," he muttered when his hand went up to his tip, squeezing tortuously, "My tattoos? You like them? I'm glad ... What? They make me look intimidating? I'm quite the opposite, purplelover65," he chuckled between breathy moans as he read off comments.

"How many times should I edge myself tonight?", he wondered out loud, "Won't cum til you tell me to," he whimpered, slowing down his movements even more, hand tight around his cock.

He read a few more comments, thanking two donors who'd given $10 each and fulfilling any requests to plea or whimper for more. This continued as it usually did up until the first time he robbed himself of an orgasm, which was when he spotted a commenter in particular.

It was you.

Ever since he began talking to you, you never really commented anymore, simply making your attendance known by being connected in the stream. Despite your calls, you'd never speak about what he did on his streams, always talking as if you were friends (friends who knew no personal information about each other but alas). Tonight, however, you decided to catch him off guard by commenting.

burner98 - god, ur so pretty ... bet you'd like someone playing with that pretty cock right ? marking you up and toying at u til ur crying

You'd never once been this explicit towards him, even before ever speaking to him. You'd expressed liking his content, but never had praised him like this. He pictured the words coming out of your mouth, with your voice, and shuddered. There was something about being wanted so badly by someone — enough for you to take care of him financially without asking for anything in return — that made him reel. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he'd been craving some praise from you all these weeks. In his mind, you were a faceless entity, but you were still a rich girl around his age, and that was enough for his brain to work with.

"Y-yes, burner98, want you to t-touch me til I'm crying ... Fuck, need to be touched so badly," he whined, already on the high of his second attempt at an orgasm approaching, knowing he'd end up denying himself again.

A few other commenters encouraged him with similar words, making him jerk off faster, slowly approaching his high.

burner98 - ur so filthy, fuck. are u gonna edge urself again, pretty ? wanna see u do it til u make a pretty mess all over ur sheets

Your comments were the ones he wanted to see the most. He felt an instinctive need to obey you. It felt like he was finally giving you something in return. It also felt right to him for some reason, like his body was aching to fulfill your every wish.

"Mhm, just- just wanna cum so bad," he cried, hand reaching out to play with his balls, "I'm so close ... Can I cum? I know I said I wouldn't yet, but it's so good ... It's right there, baby, please ..." he pleaded, eyes drowsy.

burner98 - nooo baby u have to wait. want u to cry, remember ? do not cum.

Huffing, he slowed down, diminishing the intensity of the feeling. Pouting, he groaned as he felt his orgasm leave him, disappearing just as the previous one had.

"Okay," he whimpered, "I stopped ... Can I touch myself again?", he asked his viewers, "My nipples? Want me to play with them, magicshop43? A-anything for you," he moaned, fingers coming up to his hardened nipples and toying with them. He sighed at the stimulation, always extra sensitive in that area, but also due to how badly he was craving that orgasm now.

His hand went back down to his cock, working it again, "What would you do if you were here with me right now?", he asked as if he were directing himself to a single person rather than the 435 viewers currently watching.

He skimmed through the comments, humming and acknowledging all the dirty thoughts his viewers were sharing. As he played with himself, he waited for you to respond. With a groan, he finally spotted your comment, gulping when he processed the contents of it.

burner98 - id love to have u all to myself. edge u until u cry or maybe make u cum so many times u have to beg me to stop ... id mark up every inch of ur body while i run my thumb on ur tip without any more stimulation. you'd look so pretty begging me for more until i finally sit on ur cock and steal my orgasm from you without giving u anything in return. id drag this on for hours until u cant take it anymore

burner98 - is that too much ? sorry just want u so fucking bad

Without realizing it, his hand sped up as he read your comment, mind now zeroed in on you, putting all other commenters in the back burner. By the time he managed to respond, he was already a whimpering mess, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth to prevent the pathetic sounds from slipping out.

"It's not too much, b-burner98 ... Want that, fuck ... Need someone to take care of me so badly ...", he breathed out, "C-can I cum now? Please? Wanna cum- Need to cum," he pleaded, sighing at the chorus of comments giving him the green light to let go.

"Thank you thank you thank you," he rambled quietly, letting his cock make a mess all over his abs and sheets with the cum squirting out.

He sat there with a heavy breath for a few moments as he attempted to regain his composure, surprised at how sensitive he'd gotten this time around. He wanted to blame you in specific, but doing so would mean admitting to himself that you'd had an effect on him, and he did not want to open that can of worms yet.

"Thank you guys for joining me today, hah," he chuckled, "I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me. I'll see you next time, my loves," he made a kissy noise at the camera before closing the tab, sighing once it was all done.

Now he had to wait for your call, still slightly horny but also anxious about talking to you after having practically had phone sex with you — with an unknowing audience. He gave himself a few minutes to calm down, only then getting up to wash his hands and get a rag to clean up with. By the time he was finished, that familiar chime arrived, informing him of a message from you.

burner98 - im calling u now. is that okay ?

Clearing his throat, Jungkook sounded out his voice to make sure he'd rid himself of any of that high pitched, whinny tone he would develop when he was horny. With one last sip of water, he responded and soon after began the call.

"H-hey," he muttered, feeling shy after today's events, unknowing of what was to come.

"Hi ..." you sounded similarly awkward, "I'm sorry if I caught you off guard today," you started, "I just needed to unwind ... I promise I'm not expecting anything from you. This is just a regular call."

"I- it's okay, really. Don't worry about it," he reassured, "It was nice to, uh, have someone talk me through it. It makes it easier; more, uh, fun, I guess," he was awkward in admitting.

He immediately regretted his words at your sudden silence. Did you think he was lying? Or maybe the thought of him enjoying it freaked you out. You had never showed explicit interest in him in such a way, so maybe this was too forward of him.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"JK," you interrupted.

He gulped, "Yes?"

"Would you like to meet someday?", you began, tone serious, "I know we live in the same area, and ... I've really enjoyed our time getting to know each other. I'd just really love to meet you."

Jungkook remained silent, shock taking over his entire person.

You must've interpreted his silence as rejection, opting to continue speaking.

"I wouldn't expect anything from you if we met, if that's what you're thinking!," you quickly reassured, "I'm not looking for that. I just ... I love being able to help you out and I'd love a chance to see you in person."

"You ... You want to meet?"

"Yes. You don't have to say yes, just-"

"Where would we meet?", he asked, truly considering it.

"My house? Maybe?," you suggested, "Again, you don't have to say yes. I understand this is strange. I won't get angry if-"

"Yes. I'll go," he found himself responding before he could think any further.

"Really?", you asked with an astonished tone of voice.

"Y-yeah, just send me your address and the time and I'll be there," he rushed out, "Uh, well I have to go now. I'll see you soon, okay? Bye!", he practically zoomed, shutting his computer closed before you could say anything in return.

Jungkook knew how stupid it was of him to want to meet some anonymous person be met on a camming website in person was. But he felt an immense debt towards you. This really was the very least he could do.

He also felt far too much curiosity about your person to pass up the opportunity to meet you. You'd kept even the most basic information about yourself a mystery. Some part of him needed to meet you to find out who the person he'd been talking to all this time was.

Lastly, as embarrassed and confused as he was to admit it, tonight's events had left him a bit ... affected. Interacting with you as he put himself in the most vulnerable of positions, playing with himself for your (and many others') viewing pleasure just left him insanely aroused. It awoke an itch he now needed to scratch.

So, when he woke up the next morning to details about your meeting, he was nervous yet determined to finally meet you.

Anxiety and cold sweats were all that Jungkook knew any time he was nervous. Staring up at his blank ceiling as he attempted to sleep was the only thing he could do on the night prior to your meeting.

The day had come sooner than anticipated, happening only two days after the day of the stream in which you'd made Jungkook lose his sanity. After that, he began to feel a mixture or excitement and bone-rattling anxiety at the prospect of meeting you.

He already had a great thing going on with all the allowance money you'd given him, meeting you would merely risk that. What if you were some weirdo who had been manipulating him this whole time, hoping to eventually get him alone to extort him with all the money you'd given him? Risking such a high stream of income made him feel terrified, even if it was money he was never expecting in the first place.

And that wasn't even the worst case scenario.

There were tons of terrifying scenarios playing in Jungkook's head. Someone with as much money as you did could easily cause some damage to him if he were to reject any advances you made towards him. Meeting you could possibly turn dangerous for Jungkook.

At the same time, naive and immature ideas popped up in Jungkook's head.

There was a chance you truly were the bubbly girl who had taken an interest in his financial wellbeing. Maybe you truly were someone who had somehow become infatuated with him in an innocent way and had no ulterior motives in mind. You had never crossed any lines with him nor had you even brought up the possibility of a sexual encounter between you. Maybe he'd meet you and end up forming a genuine friendship with you.

Whether it was dumb of him or not, Jungkook decided to continue with the plan to meet you, showing up at the penthouse the address you'd given him led to. His life had already been miserable before you turned in upside down, how much of a risk could this be?

With an accelerated heartbeat, Jungkook pressed the button to your intercom, becoming alert when he heart a voice respond through the machine.

"This is a private residence. Who is this?", responded a male voice in a tone devoid of any emotion.

"Oh, uh, this is Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook," he stammered.

Fuck, he had never given you his real name. How were you to know this was him? Was this even your address? Maybe this was your husband? What if-

"Oh, you must be JK," responded the voice, more casually this time, "You're here to meet Y/N, right? You're a bit early. I'll let you in in just a moment," trailed off the voice, turning off the intercom before Jungkook could respond.

"Y/N," he mumbled to himself.

That must've been your name. He liked it. It rolled off his tongue nicely.

In just a few moments, the door opened, revealing a handsome man in a suit, seemingly around his own age. With a nod, he gestured at Jungkook to come in, which Jungkook obeyed immediately.

"Hello, I'm Taehyung. I'm Y/N's personal assistant/butler," he introduced himself with a friendly handshake, "Wow, you're even more handsome than she described," he marbled, staring at Jungkook shamelessly.

This guy seemed weird, but nothing appeared threatening thus far.

"Oh, I- Thank you," Jungkook chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I let her know you're here. Just take those stairs and head left and you'll be in one of the living rooms. She'll come out when she's finished getting ready," instructed Taehyung as he pointed in the direction Jungkook was meant to go find you.

Hesitantly, Jungkook made his way to you, heart beating faster by the minute. When he reached the living room Taehyung had directed him to, he found himself standing by a fancy door, one which he assumed led to your room. Before he could ponder as to whether to knock or not, the door suddenly opened, revealing a girl.

There weren't enough words in Jungkook's vocabulary to describe how he felt at seeing you for the first time. His imagination had been liberal in picturing how you may look once you actually met, yet it had never quite come close to the reality.

Before him stood the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Your skin was perfect, somehow radiant and supple. He could tell it'd be soft to the touch — especially the soft skin of your legs that was exposed by the dress you were wearing. Your hair framed your face perfectly, taking on a soft look that had him wondering what it'd feel like if it graced his skin. Your body was something Jungkook did not want to get into in favor of his sanity, but his brain could not help itself. Your body was formed by the perfect combination of curves and wedges, making up a silhouette he ached to trace. Your eyes were the final blow to it all, wide with wonder as they stared back at him. The beautiful color had him hypnotized.

Jungkook would've truly had his fill of you, devouring you with his eyes for hours if you hadn't snapped him out of it.

"Oh, my God, JK!", you practically squealed, hands going up to cover your mouth in excitement.

"Burner98? I- Hi, You're-"

"You can call me Y/N," you smiled widely at him, offering him a handshake. Everything you did radiated the happiness you clearly felt at meeting him. It somehow had him feeling both reassured and nervous.

"Oh, I- that's a pretty name," he mumbled, gulping at the contact of your hand, "My real name's Jungkook," he revealed.

"I'm so happy to meet you, Jungkook," you expressed, "You're even prettier than I imagined," you were quite straightforward in your thinking.

Sadly he was not the same, still too entranced by you to muster any coherent words.

"You're pretty," he hid behind a cough, too embarrassed to say it outright.

He was aware he was acting like a loser, but could he be blamed? He was currently in the luxury penthouse of his gorgeous sugar mommy (for lack of a better term). His mind would not stop spinning.

You simply giggled at his shy demeanor, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch, coming to sit side by side whilst Taehyung suddenly walked by with drinks, setting them down as he offered you both a cheeky smile.

"Thank you, Taetae," you waved him off before turning back to Jungkook.

"So, how are you feeling? Did coming here make you nervous? I was thinking it might," you started, taking a sip from your drink.

"Maybe a little," he downplayed, "I just didn't know what to expect," he mumbled.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just thought that talking in person might be easier, you know? I never really planned this," you laughed to yourself, "I had no idea you lived so close, but it felt like a missed opportunity to not meet when we lived so close together."

He hummed in agreement, continuing to engage in his shy demeanor despite wanting so badly to show you how elated he was to be with you in this moment.

"I thought maybe you'd have questions? I promise to be an open book from now on," you cutely reached out for his pinky, giggling when he intertwined his own with yours with a smile.

"I guess maybe I was just curious about ... why me? I still can't wrap my head around why anyone would want to help me like this without me, uh, doing anything in return," his eyes left yours as confidence in his question left his own.

You cleared your throat before responding, "Hah, it's kind of embarrassing to say, but, I was in kind of a rut?", you started, "Nothing worked, and then I came across you. Your voice was what got to me first, then it was a mixture of everything. I didn't even plan on continuing to watch as consistently as I did, but I found myself coming back for more every week. Then your personality caught my attention. So when you mentioned your financial issues in one of your streams I couldn't help myself. I was already infatuated by you by then," you admitted, a warmth invading your cheeks.

Similarly, Jungkook blushed, "Oh, I helped you ...?"

"Yes, but we don't need to talk about those things," you cleared your throat, "I don't expect anything like that from you, Jungkook. I just want to help you out. I know it might seem like an odd arrangement, but this is enough for me," you reassured.

As hypocritical as it sounded, Jungkook was slightly disappointed by your words. Within mere minutes of knowing you, he already knew how attracted to you he was. Despite your words, he could not follow along with you and ignore the context of the situation. You found him attractive, he knew that much, and you'd just implied that your attraction to him had made you cum at some point. How was he supposed to ignore that when you were so otherworldly beautiful, sitting right next to him?

But unfortunately for Jungkook, he was too timid to express his desire for you. He was both too introverted and embarrassed to offer himself up like that.

"It's ... I'm glad I've been able to help you," he muttered, "I really appreciate all you've done for me. Don't feel like you have to keep doing it, I understand if-"

You scoot closer to him before interrupting him, "Shh, I want to keep doing it," you shushed him, "but I was hoping we could maybe alter our deal a bit?", you asked, causing Jungkook's breath to hitch.

"H-how so?"

Please say you want him, fuck. He'll drop to his knees right this second if you so much as suggest it.

"I was thinking maybe you could come over a few times a week instead of calling? It'd be way more fun to hang out than just call, don't you think?", you suggested, smiling innocently at him.

Fuck.

"Oh, I- I'd love to, but it takes me about an hour to get here and I don't have a car, so," he said, feeling an odd sense of disappointment in himself at denying you of anything.

"You don't have a car? You should've told me, Jungkookie!," you pouted at him, "Taehyung!", you suddenly called out into the other room.

Within moments, Taehyung entered the room, ready for whatever you had for him.

"Yes?", he asked.

"Tell Joon he'll be driving Jungkook from now on," you turned to Jungkook for a moment, "Joon is one of my drivers. You'll like him," you then turned back to an expectant Taehyung, "I'll give him all the info necessary later today, okay?," you finished, excusing him with a nod of your head.

"Sure thing, Y/Nie," he smiled at you before walking away.

"You really don't have to-"

"No, it's fine! You can call him whenever you need him. He lives in the building too. All my employees live here," you reassured, "You could too if you wanted to, you know, my dad owns the building," you said as if it were nothing.

"W-what?"

You gave him another smile at his shocked expression, hand landing on his own, "Let me take care of you, Jungkook," you said, not as a request nor demand, but something in between.

As your thumb caressed the back of his hand, your eyes on his own, he found himself numbly agreeing, willing to let himself be taken care of without question.

The rest of the evening was spent like this, sharing a few drinks and truly getting to know each other. Whenever Jungkook actually let his guard down and ignored his attraction to you, putting aside the way in which you'd met and your entire dynamic, he found himself really enjoying your company. The two of you were easily compatible, getting along as if you'd been friends for years. Occasionally Taehyung joined in, which gave Jungkook the impression that you were good friends with your employees, whom you treated as equals rather than subordinates.

At some point, Jungkook went home, getting a ride from who was now his new driver, Namjoon. This was yet another person you seemed to be friendly with, which only put Jungkook even more at ease.

He was now willing to follow along with anything you wanted for him. Maybe it was dumb or naive, but meeting you had been enough to instill this blind trust in you. It also didn't help that Jungkook was now undeniably infatuated with you.

Only three weeks later and Jungkook found himself moved and settled into a smaller penthouse located in your farher's building. It had been quite fast, really. A group of movers showed up at his house one week after your initial meeting and did all the work for him. He had been unable to stream that week at all, — earning a few pouty emojis from you in text messages — but he no longer had to pay rent, as you allowed him to occupy the vacant penthouse free of charge, so there was not any loss of money.

Within this time, Jungkook found himself hanging out with you almost daily. He had now known you for a few months and had become intensely attached to you. His feelings for you had grown as he got to know you, and his attraction became almost unbearable. However, he had to hold on, as you still hadn't shown anything further than platonic interest in him.

On the days he streamed, however, you had continued to comment just as you had that one day, egging him on and saying filth he ached to hear from your lips. But any time he saw you after those streams, you'd never bring it up, acting as if you hadn't been lusting after him mere hours ago. In fact, you never mentioned his streaming career anymore, despite actively keeping up with it. It confused him endlessly.

On the day of a particularly racy stream, he visited you again, still somewhat affected by the comments you had left as be whimpered his way to completion.

As he usually did nowadays, he let himself into your penthouse without any warning, making his way to your kitchen, which was where Taehyung had informed him you were currently in. Once he was there, he spotted you as you bent over to take some cookies out of the oven. Your tiny lounge shorts were riding up, a sight that would cause a man even as shy as Jungkook to lose his mind. But he prevailed, simply clearing his throat to announce his presence from the kitchen door.

"Oh, hi Kook!", you chirped, quickly turning to give him a smile before going back to tend to your cookies.

He walked towards you, closing the distance and reaching around you to sneakily grab a cookie, only for you to swat his hand away.

"They're hot, silly!", you scolded, using a gloved hand to pick one up and mouth feed him after having blown on it for precaution.

He took a bite, humming in satisfaction, "Amazing."

"Right?", you giggled, beginning to take off your apron and mittens, not at all minding the non existent distance between you both.

You were absentmided, clearly not paying attention to Jungkook or what was running through his mind. His brain was still on the stream and all the filthy words you'd said only a few hours ago, body still buzzing with lust, which was how he found himself acting without thinking.

Without much warning, he braved it, hand coming to your chin and lifting your face to his own, closing the gap with a soft sigh against your lips.

He pecked at you innocently, landing a more languid kiss on your lips after a few seconds. You kissed back one or two times before suddenly squeaking against him, hands coming to his chest to push him away in shock.

"Jungkook, wait," you murmured, "Stop," you turned your head to the side to avoid his lips.

He pulled away apprehensively, mortified at your rejection, "I- I'm sorry, I thought-"

"I ... I don't want to sleep with you, Jungkook. It's not like that," you avoided his eyes, looking down rather than at him.

His face burned and his heart broke. He was beyond embarrassed at having done such a thing and receiving rejection in return. It had taken an insane amount of balls for him to do so, only for him to fuck things up.

"I'm so sorry, I'll-"

"Jungkook, it's fine. Don't worry about it," you tried to alleviate things to no avail.

"I- I gotta go. I'll see you later," were his last words before running out of your penthouse, embarrassed at how badly he felt he'd fucked things up.

He made it to his own penthouse without once looking back, feeling nothing but mortification at the situation he'd put himself in.

Did you really hold no interest in him? You'd said he was the only person who managed to get you off, that you loved his voice and his videos. You'd commented all the filthy things you wanted to do to him in his streams. You were currently letting him live in a luxury penthouse for free and paying him upwards of $3,000 dollars per week just so he could keep doing his streams. Where had he read things wrong?

On top of it all, he still wanted you so badly. That mere kiss had reignited all the arousal he had felt prior to coming over to your place tonight.

You had kissed back for a few moments, and that was enough for Jungkook's pathetic self to reach into his pants and grab onto his hard cock as soon as he made it back to his bed. He tortured himself with thoughts of you, picturing what you'd look like under those shorts.

Thinking back to the sight of you bent over, he got on his knees, grabbing onto a pillow and positioning it in front of him as he humped into it, hand still playing with his cock. The sight must've been pathetic, but he just felt so needy for you. That single sigh you'd released against his lips was more than enough to feed into his wicked imagination, making his eyes roll back at the image he'd conjured in his head.

He found his end like this, pathetic and alone in a room that belonged to you. When it was all said and done, he went to sleep with a lump in his throat, not knowing how he'd face you again after tonight.

You made various attempts at contacting him throughout the following week, only to receive no answer.

Jungkook didn't leave the penthouse nor did he do any streams for those seven days. He felt as if he'd been broken up with, and felt extremely terrified as to what this meant for his future. He had already let go of his lease at his previous apartment and had quit both his jobs. There was nothing to his name anymore other than the money you'd given him that he'd saved up. What was he supposed to do now?

Another worry of his was how you may be feeling at the moment. You considered him a friend at the very least, so disappearing on you like that made him feel like a terrible person. Ungrateful was what he was.

On the eighth day of icing you out was when he finally grew the balls to go see you again. Without warning, much like before, he went into your place, finding you at your balcony, back facing him like last time.

You must've sensed his presence, turning around and widening your eyes when you saw him.

"Jungkook-"

"Can we ... Can we pretend that never happened?", he asked apprehensively, knowing it was a fruitless solution but asking anyways.

You looked conflicted at his suggestion, taking a moment to think it over before making eye contact with him again, "Okay," you gave him a tight smile, "We'll pretend it never happened."

You said it with such a decisive tone that Jungkook almost didn't catch the pained look in your eyes. But as he had suggested, he pretended not to notice, opting to bring things back to the way they were before.

~

It only took a few weeks for Jungkook's mind to become rotten again.

It seemed to be easier for you than for him to act as if things never happened. Other than some awkwardness that first night, you acted completely normal afterwards. You treated him as friendly as you had before, even being touchier now. The only thing that had changed was that you didn't tune into his streams anymore. This pained him, as it fully confirmed your lack of romantic or sexual interest in him, but he tried to cope with it.

Except he couldn't do that for too long. Within those weeks, his resolve continued to break as his mind and body ached for him to beg you for just one chance. He wouldn't run this time. If this ruined everything, then so be it. He couldn't live like this anymore.

It was one random afternoon in which he headed to your place unannounced as per usual, making his way to your room, where Taehyung had informed him you were currently at.

You were in your walk-in closet, reorganizing some things, it seemed, when you acknowledged his presence with a quick hi.

Against his better judgment, he interrupted you, turning you around and making you face him, hands holding onto your own. With a concerned look in your eye, you stared back at him with curiosity, verbalizing your concern before he began speaking.

The lump in his throat was already there, and the frustration in his voice as evident as he spoke.

"I dont- I don't understand. Why don't you want me? I thought all this time that- that you may have liked me," he began, already exasperated, "I- I want you so badly ... I can't think of anything else. You're all I think about," he slowly leaned down into your neck at every word spoken, hands tightening around your own, "Please ... Give me one chance ... I- I don't care about the money," he braved a trace of his lips against your neck, pressing a few hot kisses when you didn't push him away, "I'll give it all back, I don't care, just- just please ... I need to have you. Let me have you just this once," he practically whimpered between kisses to your skin, sighing when your hands squeezed his own.

Without responding, you nosed his cheek, nudging him to face you. Your eyes were on his lips and your breath heavy, your breasts rising along with every breath. Your lips found his own with a heavy kiss, invading all his senses immediately.

"Okay, Kookie, you- you can have me ... I'll- I'll let you ..." you couldn't continue due to his needy tongue slipping into your mouth, body pushing your own against your closet wall and hands wrapping around your waist.

He lost control of himself early on, hands feeling at every inch of your body with an untamed desperation. Hands squeezed at every curve as he attempted to mold you against his own body. His breathy sighs landed in your lips, groaning any time you'd moan in return.

"T-thank you. Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," he rambled on into your lips, only interrupted when your hand went to the back of his head and forcefully pulled him closer.

His lips trailed down to your neck, sensual as they left love bites in their wake. He made it all the way to your chest, managing to nose your tank top out of the way and reveal a bare breast. With a groan, his lips wrapped around your nipple, licking and tugging at it in desperation.

"Kookie ..." you breathed out, "Take me to bed ..."

He needed no further instruction, walking you back messily, as he refused to disconnect his hands or lips from your body. When you landed on the bed, he hovered over you, kissing at every bare inch available to him, drinking in every sigh you let out.

Once he made his way to your thighs, he sucked at the supple skin, breathing in the natural scent of your body. Above him, you dug your nails into his hair, encouraging every kiss without needing so much as a word. Jungkook was reeling at the mere opportunity to have you. He was on a high he'd never experienced before.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he mumbled into your skin, "Smell so good, fuck," he murmured to himself when his lips made their way closer to your center, frustrated at the cloth preventing him from rubbing his nose against the source of the heavenly scent.

His hands went to your shorts, silently aiding you in removing them as you lifted your hips to make it easier for him. All at once, your panties came off with them, leaving a small trail of slick behind. You threw off your shirt in the meantime. Jungkook's mind was already muddled with arousal, and the sight only made it worse. A groan was the last thing to leave his lips before they became occupied by your cunt, continuing to let out muffler sounds of desire against your cunt.

"K-kookie!", you cried out, "So good, fuck. Good fucking boy ..." you moaned whilst pushing his head further into you.

And he adored it. He needed you to use him shamelessly. He needed your cries and whimpers to imbed into his mind until they were the only thing he remembered. Your taste had already ruined him and your sounds were on their way to bury him even further.

He was a pathetic mess between your legs, crying out as it he were the one receiving the pleasure. Every lick and taste went straight to his cock, rendering him the most pussydrunk he'd ever been.

"It's so good ... Pussy's so fucking good," he whimpered, tongue going back and forth between torturing your clit and toying with your folds up until his tongue became stagnant in licking your arousal out of you, nose perfectly rubbing against your clit.

This caused you to begin canting your hips into his mouth, basically using his face as a glorified toy meant for your unadulterated pleasure. Shamelessly, you used him, letting out whiny cries of his name whilst every single noise went straight to his cock. He attempted to mumble im encouragement against your cunt, but he was far too gone. His eyes were rolled back and his brain a muddled mess.

With all his willpower, he managed to aim his eyes at you, encountering a sight he had only ever dreamed about before. Your eyes were rolled back, mindless and blissed out. Your mouth was agape, occasionally letting out the prettiest sounds known to man. Your hand was toying with your breasts, making Jungkook green with envy that he couldn't entertain every inch of your body all at once.

"'m gonna cum, Jungkook ... Need you to make me cum, f-fuck," you whimpered, hiccuping gasps in between.

He almost felt his own orgasm gnawing at him at that moment, but he needed to hold on. He'd be damned if he didn't feel you wrapped around him before losing himself.

"Cum, p-please ... Wanna taste you so bad, baby. Feel so good against my tongue ... Prettiest cunt, oh fuck," he rambled into your lips, aching for the moment you came.

"K-kookie! Y-yes, yes, just like that," you cried, nails digging into his scalp whilst your end took over, hips grinding harshly against his face.

Drenched in you, Jungkook licked wantonly at you, losing himself in your cunt as he rambled praise at you. The experience was otherworldly to him, making him black out in the immense lust your own pleasure was causing him.

He whimpered and nosed at your pussy, allowing a depraved part of himself to take over. He was on cloud nine at having you melt under him, having to will his hips into staying still as to not accidentally let himself go before he got to have you.

"Hmng, Kookie- Too- too much," you whimpered when his lips wouldn't leave you even after your orgasm had subsided. At some point you had to harshly pull at his hair, getting a depraved moan from him in return before he actually separated himself from you.

Before you could verbalize any praise for him, he made his way back up your body, invading your mouth in a wet mess of a kiss. He pushed your own taste into your mouth, swallowing your groan when you sucked into his tongue needily. His hands finally found the opportunity to feel up your body, hands grabbing at your tits and humming into your mouth at how delicious you felt against him.

"So fucking perfect," he mumbled, "God, fucking girl of my dreams ... Need you so bad- always needed you," he murmured absentmindedly as he got his fill of you.

With a mind of their own, his hips rutted into your own, giving him the friction he'd been craving since the moment you kissed. He would've been content with just the feeling of his clothed cock dragging against your bare pussy, had you not suddenly interrupted him with a whine.

"Kookie, please ... Fuck me. Been wanting you for months," you whined in between kisses.

"Fuck ... Want me? Do you really want me, gorgeous? Tell me," he begged, hips losing control.

"Wanted you since I first saw you, Kookie ... Didn't want to take advantage," you cried when his bulge angled perfectly against the most sensitive part of your cunt, nails digging into his biceps.

"Take advantage! I'll give you anything you want," his kisses went down to your tits, moaning into your skin.

He brought himself almost to completion as he kissed at your body, hips seeking their high from the mere friction, but he robbed himself of his orgasm before he could finish. With mewls in complaint from you, he separated himself from you to unclothe, making his way back to you immediately, almost as if he'd burn if he wasn't pressed up against you.

"'m gonna fuck you so good ... Shit, can't think, just want you wrapped around me so badly," he whimpered as he dragged his tip up and down your cunt, hiccuping whines of need.

"Fuck me, God, Kookie, please," you pleaded in a needy tone Jungkook had never heard from you.

"Anything you want ..." he mumbled as he positioned himself against you, losing all ability to speak when he finally entered you.

As much as Jungkook wanted to verbalize how otherworldly you felt around him, his words left him. He was reduced to a mess of gasps and needy hiccups of your name. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes at how badly he'd needed you all this time, finally fulfilling the desire that had been bugging at him since he met you.

Your walls suffocated him, causing his eyes to roll back at the immense pleasure you were giving him. Nothing his imagination had conjured about you could possibly parallel how good you felt.

"Pussy's so warm for me, fuck ... L-love this pussy," he managed to groan into the skin of your neck. His nonsensical praise was followed by even more senseless words, waxing poetic as he fucked into you.

"Prettiest pussy ... Wanted it all this time, craved it so badly ..."

"Thought about you every time I touched myself ... Needed this cunt wrapped around me."

"How is it so warm? Fuck, it's so warm n tight n all for me, huh? My pussy ..."

"Got so fucking sad when you rejected me ... W-wanted you to watch my streams ... They were all for you, f-fuck. Thought of you only."

You tightened particularly harsh after that last comment, finally responding with a shuddered breath of your own.

"I- I kept watching. I was so embarrassed, I used another burner," you revealed between gasps, "Touched myself hoping you'd come b-back and fuck me ..."

This knowledge made him lose his mind — the little of it he still had left. His eyes rolled back and his hips lost their composure. Strong arms lifted your legs further up his frame, with Jungkook now pistoning into you with an intensity that had both of you wailing. No more words could be exchanged when you were so lost in pleasure.

The thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — simply holding back due to not wanting to put any pressure on him or scare him off — made any last sense of sanity leave him. His cock hammered against your cunt as if he hated you, seeking his high whilst his hand snuck down to toy at your puffy clit.

He knew you were sensitive from your previous orgasm, groaning deep within his chest when his suspicions about your incoming high were confirmed by the sudden tightness of your cunt. This was how his own orgasm found him, dragging him down right with you.

His lips found yours, muffling any cries of pleasure by shoving his tongue in your mouth and swallowing every noise that attempted to leave your lips.

Even through the sensitivity of your subsiding orgasms, his hips did not halt, making him whine at how painfully good it all felt. If it hadn't been for your whines in protest, he would've continued until you were both crying. His body had no limit when it came to you.

Nuzzling against you, he kissed at whatever skin was available to him, humming at how soft you felt. Your hands caressed at him, pressing him onto you with a satisfied hum in return.

He relished in the silence for a while, shuffling so he could lay beside you without having to pull out. He could feel some of his cum spilling out of your cunt, causing him to scrunch up his nose. You must've noticed this, giggling at him.

"What?", he challenged, taking a teasing nibble from your skin.

"You act so shy, yet you fuck me an inch from my life," you laugh, nudging him for a kiss.

"I already embarrassed myself in front of you so many times, I needed to make a good impression," he rebutted.

"You made a good impression months ago, Jungkookie. Why do you think I spend thousands on you every month?", you teased, knowing he'd be too sheepish to come up with a comeback to that.

"Well, m-maybe you should stop paying me if we're going to be dating now," he braved, nervous despite his confident tone (and despite his cock still being buried deep in you).

"Oh? Dating? I don't recall anyone asking me out?"

He groaned, nibbling at you again and grinning at your giggle.

"Will you, Y/N, owner of my dick and heart, do me the honor of going out with me?"

You laughed again, making his cock twitch at the sudden vibration, "Hmm. Fuck me again and I'll think about it," you went to kiss him again.

It was hard to kiss you back with the smile taking over his face, but he did his best, flipping around to hover over you again, leaning down to kiss you.

"With pleasure ..."

to read short 2.2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content:

wc: 742 (teaser); 2276 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"How come you don't stream anymore?", you asked whilst running your hands through your boyfriend's fluffy hair, enjoying the way he nuzzled into your chest for the utmost comfort.

"Hmm," he pondered for a bit, "I don't really need to anymore. Plus, it feels kinda wrong now that I have a girlfriend."

You hummed at that. He had a point. You were quite possessive over him ever since you became official, so it was probably for the best he didn't stream that often nowadays. However, you had to admit, you missed that period of time in which he'd do lewd acts on screen while you watched and egged him on on the chat. Those were the moments in which he was most vulnerable.

There were also a few instances after becoming official in which he'd stream while you were watching from behind the scenes, giving you the best view of the pathetic mess he'd become. However, these became scarce after some time.

"Why do you ask?", he added after a while.

Shrugging, you cuddled closer to him, "I dunno. I kinda miss watching you sometimes."

At this, he repositioned himself, twisting his neck so he could face you, "Huh?"

It was a kind of an embarrassing and maybe voyeuristic thing, but you did feel some weird enjoyment out of being able to provide for Jungkook as he jerked off to an audience back when you'd first met him. Knowing that it was you who could give him what he needed while others could only watch without having any sort of connection made you feel powerful. It made you feel like you had some sort of ownership over him. The nature of the dynamic was thrilling to you.

This was something you hadn't thoroughly explored with Jungkook yet. After becoming a couple, you had halted all the transactions to him upon his request. He claimed that he didn't want you to feel like his attraction to you had been born out of interest (something which he was able to demonstrate time and time again). Despite your constant insistence that you'd never feel that way, he insisted, though still remained living with you free of charge. He explored other fields of interest and began working a freelance job he enjoyed (with your help), shifting your dynamic into a more ordinary one.

You thoroughly agreed with any and every change he deemed necessary in order to feel more comfortable with your relationship. But despite this, you still missed the days in which you felt like Jungkook was eating at the palm of your hand — the power and control that came with it and the desperation it had driven into Jungkook up until the point of desperation in which he finally begged to have you.

"I assumed you'd be more possessive than that," he responded, "I thought you'd rather keep me to yourself."

"That's kinda true, but ... I also liked that, uh, desperation you used to show in your streams," you blushed at your own admission.

"Oh," he breathed, "W-well, I could always-"

"No, Kookie, I don't want to push you to do something you wouldn't want to do anymore," you reassured, shuffling on the couch so he'd be able to sit up and face you.

"I just mean- if there's anything you want me to do, I'll do it. You're my girlfriend, and you've already done so much for me, y'know? There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he rebutted, staring at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

You bit your lip, pondering whether or not you wanted your boyfriend to know about the sinister thoughts you'd always had about him — the thoughts of him in utter desperation as you gave him whatever it was he needed most at that moment.

But there wad something in his eyes; a look that showed you that his words were truthful. The boy wanted nothing more than to please you. He'd do anything you wanted, and that thought made you burn inside.

This was how you found yourself sitting in front of a deprived Jungkook by the end of the night, tied up and already on the verge of his third stolen orgasm of the night. As wicked as you felt, his eyes continued to tell the truth — he was enthralled by it all. As much as you loved a desperate Jungkook, it seemed as if he loved to be taken care of just as much.

...

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[professorspork]

you know what i'm gonna get sappy for a second bear with me

there are a lot of posts and memes for writers about how hard writing is and how annoying it can be and how dispiriting it can feel when we don't make progress the way we'd like to. and those are true, and relatable, and funny! i've been there!

but maybe it doesn't get said enough in the other direction, so I'm gonna say it: I love writing. i love the process of putting phrases together and testing them for cadence and flow; i love knowing that there is a word for exactly the thing I want to convey, even if I just can't think of it right now, and going onto a thesaurus and being like there she is, that's the one!

but more than anything, I love the ritual of constantly asking myself "okay, and then what happens?" and feeling the same sense of delighted surprise every single time when somehow, a part of me I wasn't consciously aware of knows the answer. that experience, where my brain provides me solutions I didn't know it was working on, feels like a miracle every time. and getting into a productivity groove where I keep knowing the answers is one of the best feelings on the planet.

and sure, sometimes I don't know the answer, and it's hard and unsatisfying and see above about how easy it is to joke about how writing's the pits, but... that just makes it even more special when I'm firing on all cylinders, you know?

anyway, yeah. w r i t i n g.

[incognit0slut]

MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon

Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.

Words: 6802

a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶

YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.

You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.

Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.

It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.

Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.

You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.

It was the FBI.

So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.

He seemed a little too cocky.

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.

Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.

The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"

You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."

"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."

A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."

His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"

"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."

He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"

"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."

The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"

His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."

"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."

"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."

"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."

"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."

His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.

"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."

He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."

The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."

A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.

You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.

"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."

The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.

It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.

Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"

You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."

The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"

"It's a mere precaution."

And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."

You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.

Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?

"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"

You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."

Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"

You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.

It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.

Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."

You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.

"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.

The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."

"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."

Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."

"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."

Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.

"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."

You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.

"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.

Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.

He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.

The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.

"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."

You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.

The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"

Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.

"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."

Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."

You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.

Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."

Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."

Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.

The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.

You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.

Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."

The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.

"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.

"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."

Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."

The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.

His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.

He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."

The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.

"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."

Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.

You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.

Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.

"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."

Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.

There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.

Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.

Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.

Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.

"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."

You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.

His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"

You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.

He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—

A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.

"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."

And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.

"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.

"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"

You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"

His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."

You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.

"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."

He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.

Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."

And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.

His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."

Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.

Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.

"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"

"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."

Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."

And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.

Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.

Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.

At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.

You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.

You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.

"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."

Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."

You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.

"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."

“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.

You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.

You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.

“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.

"I think I ruined her."

Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."

Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.

[punkshort]

Night Shift

Thank you anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x nurse!reader

Summary: It was a relatively quiet night in the emergency room until a handsome contractor gets admitted and adds some excitement to your life.

Warnings: language, descriptions of wounds/injuries/blood (typical hospital junk), needles, drugs (the medical kind), fluff, flirting, rom-com vibes, soft!joel, just a little smut (18+ MDNI)

WC: 7.3K

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: I'm fully aware some things I'm about to describe is probably incorrect (medically) but let's suspend that disbelief for a fun, fluffy story, shall we?

"Dr. Fisher wants you in room 504, but if you're too busy, I would be more than willing to go," Lily said, leaning over the counter with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I haven't had anything to do other than charts for the past two hours, how on earth could I be too busy?" you asked, standing up and draping your stethoscope around your neck. Then you froze, realizing Lily never tries to take a patient off your hands. "Wait... why are you offering?"

She grinned and flopped down in the swivel chair next to you, crossing her legs. "The guy is smokin' hot," she whispered with a wink. "I just got a glimpse when I brought Fisher the computer cart, but..." she exhaled loudly and fanned her face. "Even with all the blood, you can tell he's a fox."

"Blood?!" you exclaimed, jogging around the nurse's desk, "why didn't you tell me?"

"He's stable, it's not-" Lily began, but you were already hustling down the hall. When you skidded to a stop outside room 504, you were relieved there wasn't a flurry of staff running in and out of the room, indicating whatever was waiting for you wasn't life threatening.

As you entered through the open door, you rapped two knuckles on the wood to announce your presence. Dr. Fisher, standing at the patient's bedside and blocking your view, glanced over his shoulder and nodded while you washed your hands. You heard him talking to a man with a deeper southern drawl than you were used to, and by the sound of it, he was in pain. You plucked two gloves from the box on the wall and snapped the latex on, turning around with a practiced smile right as Dr. Fisher introduced you by name.

Lily was right. Your eyes landed on a painfully good looking, dark haired man sitting up in the bed with one leg draped over the side, as if he was getting ready to bolt. You tried to not let your gaze linger, but the way his thighs stretched out his worn, bloody jeans and his shoulders filled out his ripped flannel held your attention longer than you expected. He first glanced over at you right when you noticed the laceration on his forearm and you went into autopilot.

You began to pull various instruments from a cabinet without instruction, already anticipating what the doctor would need before he began to rattle off requests, which you mentally jotted down and nodded in acknowledgement when he was finished.

"I'm gonna give you a local anesthetic and then clean and stitch this up. Are you allergic to anything, Mr. Miller?" Dr. Fisher asked.

"No," he said, his eyes still stuck on you as you worked. "Call me Joel," he added, his eyes flicking up to the doctor once he realized he was staring. Tommy smirked from the corner of the room and tucked his chin to his chest.

"Only thing he's allergic to is askin' for help," Tommy joked. You startled and glanced over your shoulder. Somehow you had missed the second man in the room when you first walked in. Joel scowled in his direction.

"Ignore my brother," Joel muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Can you prep him and give him 20MLs of the local? I'll be right back, I have another patient waiting to get discharged," Dr. Fisher said to Joel, who nodded and lifted his leg onto the bed, resigning himself to a long night.

Your gaze drifted over his clothes, ruined by all the blood that had gushed from his arm. "This looks pretty nasty. What happened tonight, Joel?" you asked, using your typical distraction technique while you worked unwrapping instruments and lying them out on a tray. When he didn't answer right away, you met his gaze and smiled, assuming he was squeamish and doing to do your best to reassure him.

He blinked and cleared his throat.

"Sorry. Um, got hurt at work."

You frowned, your eyes roaming over his face now that you were closer and hoping he didn't notice the way you stared a moment too long at his soft looking lips. "What do you do that you're working so late?"

"I'm a contractor," he said, mesmerized by the way you effortlessly moved around, probably just going through the motions but to him, it looked so impressive. The monitor next to his bed beeped faster and he glared up at it, angry at the heart monitor for betraying him.

"Lots of things need to be built at midnight?" you teased, making him chuckle.

"I'm behind on a project and my daughter had a sleepover tonight so I figured I'd do a little extra work," he explained, wincing when he moved his injured arm.

You nodded, latching on to the new piece of information. You loved it when patients had kids. It was a great way to keep them talking and calm. But right as you were about to ask her name, the second man chimed in.

"Yeah, 'cause otherwise he'd be home alone," he said, making the both of you stop and stare at him. His eyes bounced back and forth between you both. "'Cause he's single," he added after a beat, making both you and Joel blush.

"Jesus, Tommy," Joel muttered under his breath, and you forced out a polite laugh before switching gears.

"Alright, let's see," you said, gently lifting his arm and peeling back the sleeve of his flannel. You made a face and Joel tensed.

"What is it?"

"I wish I had better news," you sighed, locking eyes with him. "I'm gonna have to cut the sleeve off this shirt," you said solemnly.

His face broke out into a huge smile, one that reached his beautiful brown eyes and creased his tanned skin, and you giggled before reaching for the scissors.

"It's alright, darlin'," he said, still smiling as you began to cut through the fabric, "ain't got no fashion sense, anyway."

"'Cause he's single," Tommy said again from across the room. Joel swiveled his head and mouthed something angrily in his direction but you just grinned and stayed focused, pulling the sleeve away and making sure not to brush up against his wound.

"Okay, Joel, how are you around needles?" you asked, turning your back to him and blocking his view while you prepped a syringe with local anesthetic. "Do I need to call someone in here to catch you if you faint?"

He scoffed. "Hell no, I'll be -" you turned around with the needle in your hand and he gulped, "-fine."

You eyed him carefully. "Are you sure?"

He nodded and looked up at the ceiling, so you decided to just make it as fast as possible. Cleaning the skin with some alcohol, you slid the needle into his arm near the laceration and injected the medicine. After, you pressed a piece of cotton against the injection site and hid the needle behind you on the tray.

"All done, you did great," you said, and he looked at you in surprise.

"That's it? Hardly felt a thing."

You smiled and shrugged. "I've been doing this a while," you said. You always loved when patients commented on how gentle you were. It made you feel proud and good at your rather thankless job.

"Yeah? How long?" he asked, watching as you pulled out another vial of medicine.

"Almost five years," you told him, filling another syringe and wiping an alcohol pad on his inner elbow.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's for the pain," you said, "it's mild but you might feel a little out of it for a couple hours. It will help you relax so the doctor can stitch you up."

He nodded and you quickly slipped the needle in and out, just like before.

"Okay, all done with needles, I promise," you told him, disposing of them both in a red sharps container bolted to the wall by the sink.

"Whoa," Joel said softly after a minute, and you looked up at him then smiled when you saw that familiar, spaced out look in his eyes.

"Feeling it?" you asked, and he slowly nodded.

"Reckon I am."

"That's good. Just try to relax, the doctor will be back soon," you said, turning your attention to the computer cart. You were typing in your notes and scanning the vials of medicine to log into Joel's chart when Tommy's phone rang.

"It's Maria, probably wonderin' what the hell's goin' on," Tommy told Joel as he stood up and headed for the door. "I'll be right back," he said right before you heard him answer the phone and walk out into the hallway for some privacy.

Joel's head rolled to the side and he gazed over at you, smiling like a fool at the way your eyebrows pinched together as you focused on whatever you were typing.

"You're real good at this," he mumbled. You glanced at him, taking a break from the computer, and smiled.

"Thank you."

"How long you been doin' this?"

You stifled your laughter and answered the question again. "Almost five years."

He nodded, completely unaware. His eyes looked glazed over and he gave you a lazy smile. "You're real pretty."

Even though you knew it was the drugs talking, your heart still skipped a beat and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"You must be feeling better, huh?" you joked, wrapping a blood pressure sleeve around his arm. He lightly took your wrist in his hand, making you pause and catch his eye. He looked so earnest and sincere that you almost believed him when he said, "it ain't the drugs. I mean it. Can't keep my eyes off you, darlin'."

Your mouth suddenly felt dry as the two of you silently assessed the other. You searched his face but all you could find was a raw vulnerability while he waited for you to say something. And you really wanted to be honest, but you knew it was unprofessional and you had no idea what was even allowed but you had to assume your job would be at risk if you said what you really wanted to say.

Fortunately, you didn't have to say anything at all because Dr. Fisher chose that moment to return, breezing into the room with his white coat fluttering behind him.

"How're you feeling, Joel?" he asked from the sink as he washed his hands. You stepped back and focused on the computer screen, still feeling the heat of Joel's gaze on your face as you typed.

"Much better," he said, slowly dragging his eyes away from you. Tommy reentered the room, stuffing his phone back in his pocket and dodging Dr. Fisher as he turned around to face Joel.

"That's good. Let's get you patched up and back home, how's that sound?" he said, and you abandoned the computer to stand at his side, your eyes cast down as you awaited the doctor's instructions.

Dr. Fisher worked quickly and had Joel's laceration closed up in under thirty minutes, the whole time checking in with him to make sure he didn't feel anything. You caught Joel staring at you more than once during the procedure and you had to bite back a grin, but each time he noticed and he smiled that same dazzling smile that reached his eyes.

Once the stitches were done, Joel - but mostly Tommy - listened to Dr. Fisher's instructions on how to keep it dry and clean and to follow up with his own practitioner the next business day to schedule an appointment. Then he left, bidding the brothers a good night after he explained you would wrap up the wound and process his discharge papers.

You were very gentle as you wrapped his arm, quietly asking if it was too tight or if anything hurt. He would shake his head and continue to just gaze adoringly at you while you worked, completely unbothered by his brother just a few feet away witnessing his utter captivation.

"Okay, Joel. Let's get you out of here," you sighed, turning back to the computer cart.

"Already?" he asked, and you had to hold back your laugh at the bewildered look on his face.

"It's a slow night, we were able to get you in and out much quicker than normal," you explained, hitting the print button on the computer screen.

"Well, but..." he trailed off, looking back and forth between you and Tommy as he struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm single!" he practically shouted when you gave him a pen to sign his papers. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Tommy laughed from his chair in the corner of the room.

"I know, your brother mentioned it a couple times," you replied as your face grew hot once again. "Um, can you just sign here, and-"

"Are you single?" he asked, cutting you off. You looked up from the papers to find his beautiful brown eyes all wide and hopeful, completely ignoring the clipboard in front of him.

"Yes," you finally answered, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"Great!" he exclaimed, throwing his good arm up in the air with a huge grin. Tommy cleared his throat and stood up.

"I think what he's tryin' to do is ask for your number," he said. Joel nodded, not even sparing a glance in his brother's direction.

"Yeah, sorry," Joel said sheepishly, then he rubbed his face like he could make the brain fog dissipate. "Can I get your number? I'd love to take you out sometime."

Your heart was pounding in your chest now from excitement. You bit your lip and glanced over your shoulder at the open door before turning back to Joel.

"I don't know, I might get in trouble..." you began, and he quickly sat up in bed.

"I won't tell anyone," Joel said, and his voice was so serious that you couldn't help but laugh. Tommy grinned and pulled out his wallet.

"How 'bout this. What if I left Joel's business card, in case you ever needed a contractor?" Tommy offered, holding out the card between two fingers. You gingerly accepted and briefly glanced down at it. "That's his work number but this one is his cell," Tommy continued, pointing to each number respectively, "you're better off gettin' ahold of him on that one. Y'know, for any projects you might need done."

Joel gave Tommy the most grateful look. "I love you, Tommy."

"Alright, that's enough. I oughta get you back home," Tommy said with a crooked grin. You laughed and pocketed Joel's card, standing by in case he needed any assistance getting up. But before Joel and Tommy exited the room, Joel turned to you and reached out for your hand. You hesitated for a moment before stretching out your arm and allowing his thick fingers to wrap themselves around your hand.

"Thank you for saving my life," he told you, his tone deathly serious. You fought back a smile and instead gave him a firm nod.

"You're very welcome, Joel."

His business card stayed folded up in your scrubs pocket for a week, your fingers occasionally brushing up against it like a talisman as you worked.

You never told Lily about that night but you did try to sneakily look into the legality of potentially dating a former patient, but you got too nervous someone would see over your shoulder and didn't get very far.

One day, a fellow nurse who had been working at the hospital for nearly fifteen years made a comment about a patient saying something suggestive to a male doctor and she thought the doctor in question didn't handle it properly.

"What do you mean?"

"He laughed and said something along the lines of I'm too old for you," she had scoffed. "He should have shut it down right away. If the wrong person heard it, he could get into serious trouble."

That was all you needed to hear to put you off from the idea.

That evening, you took Joel's business card out of your pocket and threw it in the trash, then went to take a shower. But afterwards, when you had poured yourself a glass of wine to celebrate the start of three days in a row off from work, you found yourself hovering over the garbage and staring at the folded up piece of paper, sitting right on top of a napkin.

With a sigh, you plucked it out of the garbage and stuck it to your fridge, then forced yourself to leave the room.

There was nothing wrong with keeping the card if you weren't going to call. Right?

It pained you to go so close to the hospital on one of your well deserved days off, but you couldn't resist the chocolate croissants sold at a café around the corner. They were baked fresh daily and always served warm and after a grueling four days in a row at work, you felt you deserved a treat. So that was how you found yourself waiting at the counter for your usual order, surrounded by various professionals hurrying to grab their coffees before chaining themselves to a desk for the remainder of the day. It was busy, but the barista who usually took care of you made sure to prioritize your order, shooting you a quick wink before she slid your croissant and coffee across the counter. You mouthed thank you and turned to leave, bobbing and weaving through the crowd of people waiting for their drinks.

When you stepped outside, out of habit you glanced towards the hospital, then froze. You blinked a few times, your coffee halfway to your lips as you stared at the familiar looking man pacing back and forth on the sidewalk with his head angled toward the ground. You began to walk in his direction, squinting against the sun and wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but it really was him.

"Joel?"

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you asked, your eyes drifting around to see if he was with anybody.

"Huh?" he asked, then immediately shook his head, "yes, I mean... no, everythin's fine." He nervously jammed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight. "I, uh, came to see you, actually," he said, glancing down at your clothes, noticing you weren't in your scrubs. "Are you workin'?"

You looked down at your jeans before meeting his gaze again. "No, I have the day off, I was just getting coffee," you jutted your thumb over your shoulder, back towards the café, and you realized how bizarre the conversation was so far. "Why are you here to see me?"

He gave you a nervous smile and looked away, watching as an ambulance veered noisily into the parking lot. "I came to apologize. 'Bout the other week. Tommy told me what I said and I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Wasn't my intention, I guess it was all the meds." He finally dragged his eyes back to you and watched as something flickered across your face.

"Oh," you managed to squeak out. Even though you assumed as much, it still stung to hear he didn't mean what he said. "It's fine. It didn't make me uncomfortable. It comes with the territory," you told him with a soft laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. He nodded and looked behind you, trying to think of something else to say but when the silence became too much, you took a step back.

"I should go, but it was nice to see you. I'm glad the arm-"

"Wait - uh," he scratched his beard and took a deep breath. "If I didn't make you uncomfortable, why didn't you call?"

You blinked rapidly and thought about it for a moment before frowning.

"I thought you said it was the drugs talking?" you countered, avoiding his question with one of your own.

"I lied."

"You lied?" you repeated, raising your eyebrows. He nodded.

"More like I panicked," he added, then raked his fingers through his hair with a dry laugh. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'm terrible at this, ain't I?"

You giggled and his face brightened at the sound.

"A little, but it's okay. It's cute," you told him, feeling your cheeks warm at your own admission. He grinned.

"Alright, then why didn't you call?" he asked again.

"I panicked," you replied, then after a pause, the both of you burst out laughing at exactly the same time.

"Goddamn, reckon we don't stand a chance, do we?" Joel said, tilting his head to the side, those beautiful brown eyes sparkling playfully.

"Well, I don't know about that. Why don't we find out?"

He immediately pulled out his phone.

"It's the least we could do. Y'know. For research."

"Research, huh?" but you couldn't keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

"Yeah. Can two panicky individuals who can't seem to properly flirt their way out of a paper bag make it work?"

"Sounds like a tagline for a terrible book," you teased while simultaneously snatching his phone out of his hand and typing your number into a new text. "How could I resist?"

"I promise this is where the cheesiness ends," he chuckled, pocketing his phone.

"Oh, come on. Where's the fun in that?"

Joel thought about it for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Careful what you wish for, little lady, or else we'll be havin' a picnic in the park and watchin' the sunset for our first date."

You laughed heartily at that. "Pulling out all the cheesy stops?"

"Absolutely," Joel winked, making your heart flutter.

"Alright then. Do your worst," you said, a stupid grin still plastered across your face as you took a step back the way you came.

"I'm plannin' it all out already," he said, tapping the side of his head. You giggled and gave him a little wave goodbye before turning around and heading towards home.

Joel didn't waste any time.

He had texted you within an hour with just a link and nothing else. You clicked it and immediately grinned when a website to a paint and sip place in downtown Austin opened up.

You: starting off strong - Painting with a Twist?

Joel: Get it? A twist? Because they serve alcohol there.

You laughed out loud alone in your living room. You thought the meds made him funny but you were delighted to discover he was still just as funny all on his own.

You: I got it, thanks. Very cheesy :)

Joel: So when can I take you? I want to see you paint the next greatest masterpiece.

You: I'm off the next two days and then I work the following four

Joel: You feel up for it tomorrow night? Or is that too soon?

You: tomorrow is great!

Joel: Looking forward to it, little lady.

To keep up with the cheesy theme, Joel picked you up the next evening with a singular red rose, which he had hidden behind his back so he could reveal it to you with a flourish, immediately making you laugh. He offered his arm as he led you down the driveway to his truck while commenting something about the weather but you weren't entirely certain because you couldn't stop staring at his hair, which was slicked back a bit since the last time you saw him and the longer you stared, you began to think he might have trimmed his beard, as well. You bit back your smile at the endearing effort he was putting into your date while trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head that still wondered if this was going to get you in trouble at work.

When you arrived at the painting studio, you quickly realized the two of you were the youngest ones there, and not only that but Joel was the only man there. You stifled your laughter as you grabbed a couple drinks and picked your seats. Once behind the safety of your easels, you cupped your hand over your mouth and giggled into your palm. Joel chuckled and ducked down so nobody would overhear him.

"Am I allowed to be here?"

You began to laugh even harder, drawing the attention from some of the older women. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes and you shook your head.

"I don't know!" you wheezed when you finally got ahold of yourself. You took a deep breath and wiped your eye. "You couldn't have planned this any better." He laughed and rubbed his palm over his mouth when he began to get looks.

The painting that evening was a bouquet of white hydrangeas in a wide vase. Simple enough, or so you both thought. It became quickly apparent that Joel didn't have a creative bone in his body, and while you thought you weren't much better, when you glanced over at his and noticed his vase and flowers were beginning to take on a decidedly more phallic shape, you completely lost it.

He grinned when you had to drop your paintbrush so you could clutch your stomach while you doubled over, doing your best to keep as quiet as possible, but you were failing miserably. A lady nearby cleared her throat to convey her irritation so you slid down from your stool and told Joel you would be right back, then disappeared into the bathroom to collect yourself. By the time you emerged, the teacher who was leading the class had jumped in to try and help Joel create more distinguishable flowers, but it appeared to be a lost cause.

Once the class was over, the teacher went around to take pictures of everyone holding up their paintings with the people they came with that evening. When she got to you, Joel wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you close. Right before she took the picture, you leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to flush and his smile to reach his eyes.

When he dropped you off at home, he walked you to the door.

"So I was thinkin' for our second date we can either do bowling or trivia night," he said with a little smile. You cocked your head to the side as you thought about it.

"Both are excellent options. You can tell a lot about somebody by the way they handle winning and losing," you mused. He grinned and leaned his shoulder against your doorframe as he gazed down at you, waiting for you to decide. "Let's do bowling," you finally said. He gave a firm nod and straightened up.

"Bowling it is."

"After tomorrow, I work four nights in a row," you reminded him.

He shrugged. "So let's do it tomorrow."

"Really?" you asked, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Are you sure? What about your daughter?"

"I'm sure Tommy can watch her. And even if he can't, she's old enough now to stay on her own for a few hours."

You nodded and glanced down at your hands, clutching your painting at your side.

"What does she think about you dating?" you asked nervously, chewing on the inside of your cheek and glancing back up at him.

"She's all for it. She's fourteen now, practically kicks me outta the house every chance she gets," he said with a chuckle.

You nodded again and tried to sound casual when you asked, "are you seeing anybody else, or..." You trailed off as you felt your face warm up, feeling slightly vulnerable, but he quickly put your mind at ease. He stepped forward and pinched your chin between his fingers, making you look up at him through your eyelashes.

"No," he said softly, "are you?"

You shook your head slightly, not wanting to lose his touch just yet. "No."

He smiled. "Good."

He tilted your face up a bit more then swooped down to press a gentle kiss against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine even though it was rather innocent.

"I'll see you tomorrow, little lady," he murmured before dropping his hand from your chin and taking a step back. You bit your lip and smiled.

"Can't wait."

While Joel wasn't a very good painter, he turned out to be a rather good bowler. Better than you, at least, which wasn't saying much. So after a couple beers, you flirtatiously asked him to help you with your form, to which he eagerly agreed. He walked you up to the lane and stood behind you, squaring your shoulders and planting your feet just so while the bowling ball dangled at your side with a stupid grin on your face.

"Alright, now you're gonna wanna swing this leg back," he said, tucking his chin into your shoulder and reaching down to tap the front of your thigh. You giggled as his beard tickled your skin, which just caused him to do it even more. You laughed harder and tried to squirm away but he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you back against him, nuzzling into your neck enthusiastically. You twisted your head towards him, trying to protect your neck, but it was no use, so instead you pressed your lips against his, finally stopping his assault. Both of you were well aware of the public setting, surrounded by families, so you fought the urge to deepen the kiss but you did linger a little longer than was necessary before breaking away with a sigh. He smiled down at you, his cheeks a little pink, either from the alcohol or the public display of affection.

"I like you," he said earnestly.

"I like you, too," you whispered, watching the way his eyes sparkled. Even if it was only two dates, you could tell the connection you had was strong. You had to make it your mission to figure out the policy at work before things went any further.

"Hey, Lily," you said the next day, getting the other nurse's attention.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever dated anyone from here?" you asked as quietly as you could. She grinned and leaned against the counter.

"Oh, yeah. A few," she said mischievously before glancing around and leaning forward. "I went on a few dates with Dr. Adams last year. When I first started, I was hanging out with Richie, the pharmacist downstairs, but I swear when I found out he was married I broke it off. I felt bad about that one," she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "Oh! Then there was that one resident who worked here for a few months... Mike? He was tall with brown hair and had that tattoo-"

"No, I mean like, patients?" you tried again, and she pursed her lips.

"I've had a few ask me out but I never took them up on it. Why?"

"No reason," you said quickly, "but if you were interested, could you? Like, would we get fired or get our license revoked or something?"

She frowned and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Once a patient is discharged, it doesn't matter. If we worked in a doctor's office and it was a regular patient, that would probably be a different story, but we see so many people in the ER it's impossible to enforce something like that."

You breathed a huge sigh of relief and smiled. "That's great."

She grinned and raised an eyebrow. "So are you gonna spill or what?"

"Me?" you squeaked, shaking your head innocently but Lily saw right through you.

"Who are you seeing?" she pressed, smacking her gum between her teeth. You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the heat from reaching your cheeks.

"Remember that guy last week? The fox with the arm laceration in 504?"

Lily gasped. "Shut the fuck up!"

You smirked and nodded. "We've just been on two dates, nothing serious, but before I continued to see him I wanted to make sure I wouldn't get in trouble."

"I'm so jealous!" she groaned, stomping her feet dramatically. You laughed and turned back to your computer. You began to get back to the chart in front of you but she pulled up a chair and got a little closer so nobody would overhear. "How is he in bed?"

You gave her a look. "We haven't slept together. Did you not hear me say we've only been on two dates?"

She scoffed and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "That doesn't mean anything. If I went on two dates with a man like that, I wouldn't waste any time climbing him like a tree."

You both dissolved into a fit of giggles before the phone rang, warning you to get an exam room ready for a broken arm.

Waiting four days to see Joel again was a lot harder than you expected, but lucky for you, on your last day, Joel surprised you at work with a coffee and chocolate croissant from the café you liked.

"You remembered!" you exclaimed when you opened the bag. He shrugged sheepishly but you could tell he was pleased with your reaction.

"'Course I remembered," he said, glancing around when Lily walked into the waiting room to call back a patient. Her eyes locked on the two of you and she gave you an exaggerated wink before leading an elderly man to the back. Joel grinned and looked at you.

"Friend of yours?"

"Unfortunately," you said sarcastically, making him smile. You glanced down at your watch and made a face. "I'm so sorry, I gotta get going but this was so sweet of you," you said, motioning towards your coffee and pastry.

"I just really wanted to see you again," he admitted, "it was a completely selfish move."

You giggled. "Well, thank you for the selfish coffee and treat."

"You're welcome. Still on for tomorrow night?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Picnic and stargazing. You're really checking things off that cheesy date list," you said with a laugh.

"You asked for it, don't you forget now," he replied before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss.

After he left, you made your way back to the nurse's station so you could deposit your goodies and pull up the next chart.

"Third date tomorrow?" Lily asked, rounding the desk. You nodded.

"Yep," you answered distractedly, reading the chart of a young boy with a minor head injury from a fall.

"You know what typically happens on the third date?"

You felt your skin heat up at the insinuation. "I'm going to regret telling you about him, aren't I?"

"Sure are. That was so close to being me, I'll never get over it."

You laughed and shook your head, leaving her question unanswered as you made your way back to the waiting room.

As it turned out, a picnic and stargazing was incredibly romantic. Joel packed a simple meal: some cold pasta in olive oil, a light salad and some fruit. He had found a spot off a highway that overlooked downtown Austin, which was by far the cheesiest part of the date.

"Did you used to take girls here back in high school or something?" you teased as you sat on the hood of his truck, leaning against the windshield so you could see the stars.

"Me? Never. I was very respectable in high school. Never got into trouble, never skipped class and definitely never took the captain of the cheerleading squad up here after prom," he said with a grin. You giggled and shoved his shoulder playfully.

"You're trouble."

"Yeah, but you like it," he said, turning his head to the side so he could look at you. You tried to give him a stern look but you weren't selling it in the slightest.

"Okay, maybe I do," you admitted.

He smiled and laced his fingers together with yours, dragging his thumb over your knuckles for a minute, staring at your entwined hands while you continued to gaze upwards, the stars twinkling in the nearly clear, black sky.

"Can I tell you somethin' without you thinkin' I'm crazy?"

You rolled your head to look at him, your first instinct to tease him but his soft tone made you stop. "Sure."

"I keep waitin' to wake up or the other shoe to drop or whatever," he said, his gaze studying your face. "You just seem too good to be true," he added with a little grin.

"That's funny, I could say the same about you," you told him, but he shook his head.

"Nah, I mean it. How don't you already got a boyfriend?"

You sighed and looked back up at the sky. "I don't know. It's always been a little tough with my work schedule. I work so many overnights and it's hard for guys to understand that and work around it. Eventually things just... die off because I never get a chance to spend any real time with anyone."

He frowned and inched a little closer. "Their loss," he said. You turned to smile at him.

"You're not like that, though."

He shrugged. "I get it. I'm no stranger to havin' a busy schedule. I'm always haulin' Sarah 'round town to soccer games or friends' houses or after school activities. Don't bother me none."

You squeezed his hand affectionately before impulsively leaning over and pressing your lips against his. You could feel his surprise but he quickly reacted and brought a hand up to cup your face. He licked at the seam of your lips and you smiled before opening your mouth a fraction, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

The whole drive back to your place had you thinking about Lily's comment from the day before, and the closer and closer you got to home, the more nervous you felt.

When he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you reached up to hold the back of his neck, keeping him close. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you let out a small moan. He grabbed your hip and began kissing you harder, pushing you up against your door and sliding his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, stroking your skin there. You tipped your head back, breaking the kiss, both of you panting for air.

"Do you want to come inside?" you asked nervously. His gaze darkened and he licked his lips, but then you saw a tortured look flicker across his face.

"I can't," he said, sounding almost like it pained him to utter the words. "I can't leave Sarah alone overnight," he explained, taking a step back and rubbing his palms over his face. He dropped them to the side and you quickly blinked the disappointment from your eyes.

"It's okay, I understand," you told him, then reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"I promise, I really wanna come inside," he told you.

"I know," you said, "maybe next time."

He chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Yeah, next time."

But it wouldn't be the next time. Or the time after that. Understandably so, Joel was waiting for a night where Sarah was at a sleepover to coincide with one of your free nights, explaining that he felt uncomfortable letting her know he wouldn't be coming home.

"Does she know about us?" you asked him one night.

"'Course she does. But it's just... awkward. At her age, she can read between the lines, y'know?"

"I get it," you had told him, trying to imagine what it would be like for you if at fourteen, your dad had essentially announced he wouldn't be home that night because he was going to get laid.

It made sense, but it didn't stop both of you from practically swallowing each other whole every chance you got, all your pent up sexual tension bubbling just under the surface with every glance and touch.

And finally, nearly two months into seeing each other, the stars aligned. Sarah was going on a school field trip to The Alamo, which coincidentally was scheduled on one of your rare weekends off.

Joel had every intention of taking you out to dinner and a movie, but when you opened the door and locked eyes, suddenly take out and a shitty movie on TV sounded much better.

You practically dragged him to your bedroom while shedding your clothes as quickly as you could, desperation rolling off both of you in waves as you fell into bed.

"Beautiful girl," Joel mumbled against your throat, sweat coating your skin as your writhed underneath him, his thick length slowly dragging in and out, making sure you felt every inch of him. "Wanted this for so long," he continued, then groaned when you clenched around him. "Fuck, you're so wet, baby," he whispered when your slick began to spread over his thighs.

"Only for you," you managed to say, too focused on how your body thrummed with anticipation as you got closer and closer to your release.

"Yeah, that's right," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "All for me."

When you came, you whimpered his name into his shoulder, clutching onto him as the heat of your orgasm spread through every vein, reaching every inch of you. He followed shortly behind with a guttural moan muffled by his mouth pressing feverishly against yours, then you felt his muscles relax under your fingertips and his body sag. You pulled him down and he nuzzled against your throat as he fought for air, still nestled deep between your legs.

Neither of you felt much like leaving the bed, so you didn't. You ordered Chinese food takeout and watched some action movie you didn't really care for but it didn't matter because it primarily served as background noise while you pretended to fight over shrimp lo mein and shared an egg roll, the cartons spread out over your nightstands and your plates balancing in your hands.

You fell asleep before the movie ended but when you woke the next morning, tucked safely into Joel's side, the cartons of food were gone and the TV was off. You pressed a little kiss against his chest, silently thanking him for taking care of everything while you slept, but the movement made him stir. He sleepily opened his eyes, then a lazy smile spread across his face when he saw you already looking up at him.

"Mornin', little lady," he said, voice all rough and gravelly. You felt a pull in your lower stomach at the sound.

"Morning," you mumbled, pressing another kiss in the same spot.

Joel sighed and wrapped both arms around you, tugging you even closer and kissing the top of your head.

"I want you to meet Sarah."

He felt your muscles tense under his hands and then you slowly tipped your chin up to look him in the eye.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Only if you wanna," he said quickly, but you shook your head and grinned.

"Y-yeah, I would love to, of course," you told him.

He planted a kiss on your lips, both your mouths curving into smiles.

"Good. Then it's settled. My two best girls are gonna meet," he said, sliding out from under the sheets to stand. You bit your lip, adoring the way he referred to you as one of his girls. "She's gonna love you. How 'bout a baseball game or the fair?" he offered, slipping his boxers on.

"Both sound great," you said dreamily, watching him saunter out of your bedroom. And as you ate breakfast across your kitchen table, sharing little smiles over eggs and toast, you couldn't help but feel hopeful and excited for what your future held together.

[xo100]

hi can i have a request a story about life where lando and his ex finally get back together again 🥹

Unfinished business- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1581

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris didn’t mean to fall in love with her. Not really. It just happened somewhere between late-night calls from different parts of the world and the quiet mornings they shared over coffee, bleary-eyed and content. For two years, they had built something beautiful. Something fragile. And like many fragile things, it shattered.

It had been a year since they parted ways. A quiet, mutual decision born from exhaustion, distance, and the demands of their individual lives. She had her career, a demanding one that required its own brand of discipline and attention. And Lando, of course, was always on the move, his life dictated by the calendar of Formula 1. It wasn't anyone's fault. There was no dramatic fight, no harsh words. Just the aching realization that, for now, their lives didn’t fit together the way they once had.

So they let go. They hugged each other goodbye in her quiet London flat, the kind of hug that lingered a little too long, with an unspoken understanding that maybe this wasn’t forever, that maybe one day they would find their way back to each other.

A year had passed since that night.

-

She scrolled through her Instagram feed absentmindedly, stopping when she saw his latest post—a sun-drenched photo of Lando standing by his car, all wide smiles and windswept hair. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating, before double-tapping. The small heart icon appeared, a familiar pang settling in her chest. It had become a ritual at this point—liking his posts, reading his captions, sometimes even dropping a comment when she felt brave enough. And he did the same, always. As if this silent conversation on social media was their only connection left.

She never stopped missing him. Some days it was just a quiet hum in the background of her life, a dull ache that she had grown used to. Other days, it hit her like a wave, out of nowhere, leaving her breathless and wondering how she had ever let him go.

On the other side of the world, Lando felt the same. He never admitted it out loud, not even to his closest friends, but she was never far from his thoughts. He found himself checking his phone too often, waiting for those tiny signs that she was still there, still watching, still caring. Every time her name appeared in his notifications—whether it was a simple like or a playful comment—his heart gave a small, traitorous leap.

They weren’t together anymore, but they were never really apart.

-

The first time they saw each other again after the breakup, it was at a race. Lando had known she might be there, but nothing could have prepared him for the moment their eyes met across the paddock. For a split second, the world around him seemed to blur, everything but her fading away. She looked the same but different—more poised, more confident, but with that same light in her eyes that had always drawn him in.

Her heart stuttered when she saw him, the familiar ache resurfacing. God, he looked good. The year had been kind to him. His hair was longer, his smile somehow brighter. But there was something else, something in the way his eyes softened when they landed on her.

They didn’t approach each other right away. Both too unsure of what to say, too aware of the unresolved feelings still hanging between them like a weight neither could lift. But eventually, they found themselves standing side by side, in the way that used to be so natural. And for a moment, it almost felt like old times.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the paddock.

“Hey,” she replied, her heart racing.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy. Heavy with everything unsaid, everything they had tried to bury over the past year.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, though the question felt painfully inadequate.

“Good. Busy, you know… work and everything,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit he remembered all too well.

“Yeah… same.” He gave a small nod, eyes searching her face for something—anything—that would tell him if she had moved on. If she had forgotten him.

But she hadn’t. And neither had he.

-

The weeks after that encounter were… confusing, to say the least. They started texting again, slowly at first. Just little things—a funny meme, a quick ‘good luck’ before his races, or a random thought that reminded her of him. But it quickly became more than that. The conversations stretched longer, the topics more personal. They talked about the things they hadn’t talked about during their relationship—how hard it had been to let go, how much they missed each other, how they hadn’t really stopped caring.

One night, after a long conversation, Lando found himself staring at his phone long after the screen had gone dark. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep pretending that he was okay without her. He had tried. God, he had tried. But no matter how many races he won, no matter how many new cities he visited, there was always this empty space where she used to be.

And she felt it too. Every time she saw his name light up her phone, her heart leapt. Every time she saw a post of his, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and just say it—to admit that she still loved him.

The breaking point came on a rainy night in London, when the loneliness felt unbearable. She was scrolling through her messages with him, re-reading old texts from when they were still together. Before she could overthink it, she sent a message.

I miss you.

-

Lando’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, the soft glow cutting through the darkness of his hotel room. He reached for it, half-asleep, but when he saw her name, he was suddenly wide awake. He stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, his heart racing.

He had missed her too. Every single day.

Before he could second-guess himself, he typed a response.

I miss you too.

The three little dots that indicated she was typing appeared, then disappeared, and then appeared again. Finally, another message came through.

Can we talk? In person?

His heart skipped a beat.

Yes. When?

-

They met in a small café, tucked away from the prying eyes of the world. It was quiet, intimate, the kind of place where people went to have real conversations. The kind of place where they had once spent hours together, laughing and talking about nothing and everything.

When she walked in, Lando felt like the air had been knocked out of him. She looked nervous, just like he felt. But there was something else in her eyes too—hope.

They sat down, and for a few moments, neither of them spoke. It was like they were both afraid to say the wrong thing, to shatter the delicate balance they had found themselves in.

“I don’t know where to start,” she admitted with a small laugh, breaking the tension.

Lando smiled softly, his fingers tapping lightly against the side of his coffee cup. “I’ve been trying to figure that out too.”

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It was just… heavy. With everything they had left unsaid over the past year. Finally, Lando looked up, his voice quiet but steady.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” he said, his words hanging in the air between them. “I tried to move on, I really did. But no matter what, it always came back to you.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked away, blinking back tears. “I haven’t been able to move on either,” she whispered. “I thought… I thought maybe it was just me, that maybe I was holding onto something that was already gone.”

“It’s not gone,” Lando said firmly, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “It never was.”

For a long moment, they just sat there, holding each other’s gaze, holding each other’s hands, letting the weight of their feelings settle between them.

“I still love you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too,” Lando replied, his thumb gently brushing against her skin. “I never stopped.”

-

The decision to get back together wasn’t made in that moment. They knew it wouldn’t be that simple. There were still challenges to face, still things they needed to figure out. But what they both knew for sure was that they couldn’t keep pretending anymore. They couldn’t keep acting like they were better off apart, because they weren’t. Not really.

The rest of that night was spent talking, laughing, and crying. They laid everything out on the table—the fears, the regrets, the hopes for the future. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was honest.

When they finally left the café, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and glistening under the soft glow of the streetlights. Lando walked her to her car, his hand never leaving hers. And when they reached it, he hesitated for a moment before pulling her into his arms.

“I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured against her hair.

She smiled, burying her face in his chest. “Good. Because I don’t want to go.”

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

[mercy-burning]

A Study in Anchored Souls

Pairing: ghost!Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: In which the ghost of Spencer Reid discovers that in order to unveil his unfinished business and finally lay at rest, he must somehow enlist the help of the woman who now inhabits his apartment. Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, mention of weed, ghost shenanigans (?), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, Spencer is invisible for all of that LMAO Word Count: 11.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: God, I love ghost smut. That was a goddamn blast to write! Like you don't even know how giddy it made me putting these words to the keys. I even put in extra effort and made a little photo banner, which I’ve never done for a one shot before, and I’m kinda obsessed with it ngl 😂 I hope you love this one as much as I do! <3 Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air writing challenge!

———

ACT I: Girls' Night

Spencer Reid always knew he would die.

It was a cold, hard fact of life that at one point, everyone would die. It was unsure when or how, but it happened. There was no escaping it. That thought alone was enough to squander most of his anxieties about death— even after a few near-death experiences and the constant danger his line of work tended to throw at him throughout his lifetime.

Still, the one thing he couldn't stand to think about was the "after". He wanted truly to believe that what happened after death was just nothingness, but after his encounter with Tobias, it stirred up all sorts of questions and unexplainable possibilities that were just too vast for even his brain to try and comprehend.

Then, of course, there was the fact that he was currently standing in his old apartment, watching somebody else live her life, completely invisible to her. He tried talking to her, too, but nothing. It was like he wasn't even there.

But why? It's not like he had unfinished business or anything. The unsub who shot him was shot down immediately afterwards. He watched him die before passing out himself. Why was he "awake" now, nearly 5 months after the fact, and not when his friends were grieving him? Where were his friends, and why has the afterlife chosen to tie Spencer to a place rather than the people that knew and loved him?

Logically it seemed reasonable but really, he just missed his friends. He missed his life.

He hated the afterlife, he decided then. There was no reason he needed to keep doing this when he couldn't even leave the confines of the apartment. He couldn't walk through walls or touch anything or sit down on the woman's gross floral couch. If he wanted to enter another room, the door needed to be opened, otherwise he was stuck right there in the living room, the kitchen, and the open dining space that connected the two. If he was allowed to live his afterlife with his mom, or playing Chess with Gideon, or travelling the world, free to go anywhere and see anything without hardship, it might have been different.

But no. He was stuck watching this woman struggle to move furniture by herself.

He didn't know her. Had never seen her before. She wasn't a student of his or a victim he'd saved or even a fling. She was a complete stranger. A complete stranger who unfortunately had terrible taste in decor and an even more unfortunately beautiful face.

Her name was Y/N. From what he could gather, she didn't have any family, at least not nearby. Her two best friends were the only other people in her circle that he'd seen in the apartment, and when they were all together it was... interesting. There was a lot of loud laughter and wine, and oh God, the sex talk...

It felt intrusive, but he couldn't leave. He could migrate to another room, maybe, but his ears still worked, even a little too well. His eyes, too, seemed to be as sharp as ever, any imperfections to his vision completely mended. He was simply over aware of everything, and yet hollow at the same time, and he hated everything about it.

But what could he do? He couldn't even touch anything or communicate to anyone, so how could he possibly figure out what was keeping him here and how he could get out of it? Did his new roommate hold some sort of knowledge or ability to help him solve this mystery, or was he destined to watch her live out her life in this place that he once called "home"? Was there any connection between them at all?

He didn't know.

Usually he liked puzzles, but this one was rather annoying.

He just wanted to rest.

Y/N had been moved in for just over a month (yes, there was a whole month of just standing there learning everything about a stranger because there was simply nothing else for Spencer to do) when finally, there was a small glimmer of hope.

Heavy on the small.

It was Girls' Night. Friday. It always consisted of too much wine and movies and snacks and discussions about whatever they were reading or watching. Despite the differences in the routine, the camaraderie made Spencer miss his friends. He wondered what they were all up to. Maybe, if this all worked out, he could actually find out.

But for now, he had to focus on the baby steps.

When the girls showed up with a Ouija board, he couldn't help the incredulous laughter that escaped him.

Y/N, it seemed, felt the same disbelief. "You guys, what the fuck is that?"

"What does it look like?" the first friend, Maya, retorted.

The other, Robin, added, "You were the one that said you felt like you weren't tooootally aloooone in this apartment..."

Her haunting inflection elicited a backhanded thump to the arm, Y/N groaning as she closed the door behind her. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I would want to know what or who it is! Besides, I'm probably just paranoid. It's just being in a new place and the anxieties that come with it, that's all. You guys are insane."

"Only one way to find out!"

Was Spencer really going to entertain this? A goddamn Ouija board? He enjoyed his fair share of spooky things and researching superstitions, but that was out of his realm of belief. On the other hand, one could technically consider him a ghost... He could look down and see himself, but nobody else could see or hear him... Y/N had obviously voiced a concern for feeling a presence to her friends, but how much of that feeling was accurate and how much of it was, in fact, 'new home anxieties'?

As the girls unboxed the board and set up their things, Spencer sighed, mumbling to himself, "Only one way to find out..."

Maya closed the curtains and turned all the lights off, meanwhile Y/N and Robin were collecting and lighting any candle they could find. They cleared off the low coffee table in front of the couch where the girls sat and set everything up there, Spencer taking a seat on the floor opposite the group. It was then that Y/N said something that made him laugh.

"Wait, shouldn't we give the couch to the ghost?"

"What?"

"Well, what if it's an angry ghost? And then we make it sit on the floor, and it decides to exact vengeance on us? Maybe we should... I don't know, be more hospitable?"

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," Robin said, standing up. "Do you hear that, Ghost? We're only being nice to you, so please don't kill us, m'kay?"

Spencer sighed. Little did they know, he couldn't actually sit on the couch. Or a chair. Or anything that wasn't the floor. It was like the ground was the only physical thing he was anchored to. Still, the girls had no way of knowing that, so they shuffled their way to the other end of the table, flipping the Ouija board so it would face the other way. Spencer got up and moved then. He'd have to stand uncomfortably in the small gap between the table and the couch, bending down at the waist to use the board, provided he could even touch it.

He had no idea how this was going to work, if at all.

It was all starting to sound and feel absolutely ridiculous.

The girls each put a finger on the planchette, nervous laughter emanating from them, and Spencer gave one last deep breath before reaching out to touch it himself, anticipating the moment of truth.

His hand hovered over the board, feeling a block just before he would make any contact. He couldn't touch it. His hand wouldn't even go through. He retreated and huffed, wondering if there was something he could do to communicate with them otherwise. He tried to blow out one of the candles, but with no luck. He could feel his breath against his own skin (could you even call it that at this stage?), but the objects in front of him were completely oblivious to his presence.

He was about to give up and call it a night, leaving the girls to have their fun, but then one of them gasped.

"Wait, don't we have to use two fingers? Is that how it works?"

"Shit, I think you're right."

They adjusted their positions and Spencer sighed, but indulged them just in case.

His hand lowered again, middle and pointer fingers approaching the planchette in anticipation. He half-expected there to be resistance again, but this time, a cool rush of wind gusted up in between them as his fingers made contact with the wood.

"Holy shit!" all four of them exclaimed in unison.

"Did you feel that?" Maya squealed excitedly. "Wicked..."

"No, not wicked!" Y/N whined. "We should stop!"

"Really? You know for sure now that there's a ghost living in your apartment, and you're just not going to ask it questions to make sure it's not harmful? Be smart about this, bitch," Robin countered playfully.

Spencer wanted to cut to the chase. He moved his hand, spelling out a word, and the girls collectively gasped before reciting each letter out loud hesitantly, like they couldn't believe what was happening.

"H-A-R-M-L-E-S-S"

"Oh my God! You have a Casper!"

Y/N shook her head furiously. "You guys, stop fucking with me, I mean it. This isn't funny."

"I didn't move it!" said Robin.

"Me either," said Maya. "Besides, you felt that wind right? How could either of us have done that?"

"I don't know, because you're a fucking wizard or something! Cut it out!"

"Hey, if you didn't want to do it that badly, you would have taken your hand off the planchette... Hey, Ghost, have you ever seen Y/N naked?"

"Robin!"

Maya cackled and Y/N went pale. If he wasn't already dead, Spencer would have probably gone pale as well.

The truth was, he had. Seen her naked, that is.

He wasn't proud of it. It happened by total accident. Sort of. He was following her around the apartment all day because he was bored, and he'd ended up locked in her bedroom with her. Either he was truly horrible at reading people (which seemed impossible considering his profession) or she had just gotten a random spurt of excitement, because the moment her door closed, she whipped her shirt off, exposing her bare torso to him, and he couldn't move. He was frozen, completely shocked at the sight before him. She reached down to take off her pants, and he turned around then, quickly becoming aware of the situation.

She rustled behind him and he tried desperately to walk through the door. Any time he got close, the barrier would stop him. He couldn't do anything but stand in the corner and pray to whatever that she was only changing.

She was, in fact, not changing.

Spencer swore in that moment at the table that he could still hear the low hum of her vibrator and every single sound that came from her body and mouth that night, and he was absolutely mortified.

He'd only dared to glance back when he heard the end, her breathing slow and the humming gone. It was silent for a while before he turned around entirely, only to find her asleep, sprawled completely bare over the covers. He wished he could have draped a blanket over her, but his hands were more or less tied.

Thankfully she was only asleep for about a half hour before she forced herself awake to clean up and actually go to bed.

Spencer never followed her around the apartment ever again. Just in case.

"Don't answer that, Ghost," Y/N rushed, "Robin's just fucking around. We promise to ask you serious questions from here on out."

Maya faked a snore. "Come on, Y/N, this is supposed to be fun. The ghost is harmless."

"No, the ghost said it was harmless. Doesn't mean it is."

Spencer thought for a moment as the girls went back and forth, and then he spelled out another word— or an acronym, rather.

"It's moving again!" Robin gasped, spelling out the letters.

"F-B-I"

"Holy shit did you work for the FBI, Ghost?" Maya inquired.

Spencer moved the planchette to the "YES" at the top of the board.

"Maybe... Maybe we should stop calling them Ghost..." Y/N took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before nodding. "Ummm... Spirit Who Resides Here..." Robin and Maya snorted. "What is your name?"

Spencer wished he could tell her she didn't need to be formal, but it was amusing watching her do it anyway. He spelled out his name, first and last, and the girls made a collective hum of acceptance. A normal name and not something concerning.

"We should Google him," Robin said matter-of-factly.

Maya hummed in agreement, but Y/N swallowed and asked another question. "Spencer, you're not... Going to hurt me, are you?"

He moved the planchette to "NO," and watched the relief take over her body, relaxing her muscles and her posture for just a brief moment. He could tell she was still wary, but it was a step in the right direction.

"See? Told you he was harmless."

"He still could be lying," Y/N mumbled. Then she sat up straight. "Not that I don't believe you, Spencer. I'm sorry. You just have to understand that I'm a woman living alone, and the thought of a man I can't see haunting my apartment is just... It's extremely terrifying."

He felt bad for her. As annoying as his situation was, he couldn't imagine being in hers. He almost wished he hadn't entertained the Ouija board at all and put her worries to rest, but since it was too late, all he could do was try and reassure her that he wasn't a threat.

His fingers moved again.

"U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D"

And then a pause, before: "S-O-R-R-Y"

Y/N's eyes dropped, and her friends made a collective "Awwwww," before a knock sounded at the door, jolting them all to move away from the Ouija board.

Spencer was knocked backwards, and he expected his newfound sense of touch to disappear once the connection had broken, but to his surprise, he found himself safely seated on the couch. His hands reached over the fabric, testing, and despite his distaste for the floral pattern on it, the cushions were suddenly the greatest thing he'd ever touched. He was grateful for this couch. And for the Ouija board, and for Y/N and her eccentric friends.

Speaking of which, Robin yelled out, "Pizza's here!" and got up with Maya to abandon the board. Pizza apparently seemed more interesting than a ghost, but for two women who Spencer could now tell (no thanks to his upgraded sense of smell) were a little high, that seemed reasonable.

As her friends happily greeted the pizza delivery man, Y/N reached out to touch the planchette again, just for a moment, and gently whispered, "Thank you, Spencer."

He returned it with an earnest, "You're welcome," but he wasn't sure if she'd hear or not. She looked around the area for a few seconds before turning around, and it wasn't clear whether she had.

But she seemed relaxed now, and that was a start.

As the girls sat at the dining table and ate pizza, Spencer tested out his new senses just a few steps away. He found himself thankful to be in a familiar place, even if the decor was different. The walls were the same and the bookshelves still stood, now filled with bright Romance novels and trinkets and photos that laid out Y/N's personality quite perfectly. He smiled, running his fingers along the spines of the books, missing the feeling even if they weren't his own.

He wanted to see if he could read one, just for the sake of feeling a book in his hands again, but he figured he'd wait until Maya and Robin were gone and Y/N was asleep.

Until then, he continued to touch things without making them move, not wanting to raise anyone's eyebrows.

And then, a gasp sounded from the dining table.

"I found him! I have his obituary right here!"

"Holy shit, let me see!"

Spencer made his way to the table to observe.

The girls passed around Maya's phone, looking at his obituary photo. Robin made a low whistle, then called out into the air on her left. He was standing to her right, unable to help the dry laughter that escaped him at the irony of the situation.

"Spencer, you were hot!"

Maya shook her head and sighed. "Yeah. What a damn shame. Sorry, man."

Robin seemed more amused than anything, turning to Y/N, who was reading through the obituary. "Hey, at least you can rest easy knowing you've got a hot FBI ghost watching over you."

"Yeah, but... Why? Do you think he lived here? In this apartment?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask him."

Y/N sighed, handing Maya her phone back. "I'm sure he has more exciting ghost stuff to do on a Friday night than entertain us three. All I know is he promised not to hurt me, so I don't really care if he stays."

He was glad for her ease of anxiety, but he certainly cared if he stayed. However, she sounded exhausted, and it was fair. Finding out your new apartment was haunted by a ghost (even a harmless one) sounded like a reasonably stressful situation. He wanted desperately to figure out how to finally move on, but for now he could accept the simple fact that he could actually touch things now, and let Y/N rest easy.

Even if he couldn't yet.

ACT II: X's and Oh's

Every time she came home, Y/N would greet Spencer kindly. Probably out of precaution (you know, just in case he really was lying about being harmless), but brightly all the same.

"Spencer, I'm home! I... I don't know if you're haunting me or the apartment, but... I hope you had a good day, just in case it's me."

He smiled, wishing he could greet her back.

Eventually, he found small ways to do it.

He fogged up a spot on her bathroom mirror, that way the next time she showered before bed, the heat would reveal a message on the glass: "Good night. —S.R."

Y/N talked to him that night, dressed in her pajamas and walking around the apartment like she was deciding where to talk to him. Eventually she decided on standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Spencer? You said good night so you might not even be in here, but... I guess this is me saying good night back...Thanks for being a nice ghost, I really appreciate it. If... If there's anything I can do for you, let me know, okay? Okay... Goodnight."

If only there was a way she could hear him. Communicating in mirror-notes was hardly good for anything more than a simple "good night," and despite the fact that he could touch things, he couldn't grip them, so writing on paper was out. He'd kept trying to open a door with the handle, and with no luck. It was starting to get irritating, wondering what the next step was to evolving as a ghost.

He couldn't even believe he'd thought up the phrase. Ghost evolution sounded absolutely insane, but he supposed it was his current reality regardless of how it sounded...

Tonight Y/N was out rather late. For a brief moment Spencer started to worry, but then the key turned in the doorway and relief settled in when she finally stepped inside. She seemed rather tired, but greeted him with a gentle smile all the same.

"Hi, Spencer."

"Welcome home, Y/N."

She didn't hear him, obviously, but it still felt rude not to say it back. He wondered if he could try to touch her in greeting. Maybe a brief brushing of hands or a tap of acknowledgement on the shoulder. But he didn't want to scare her, so he'd have to figure that out.

Thankfully, she seemed to have felt his curiosity somehow.

Later that night, as she laid in bed, she called out, drawing his attention from the living room where he tried to open a cabinet. Still no luck there.

"Spencer? Are you there?"

He wandered over to the bedroom, glad to see she'd left the door cracked open so he could get in. He hesitated before moving, hoping she wouldn't freak out when she saw the door open.

When he did finally gather the courage to move the barrier and step inside, he heard her gasp as she sat up in bed.

"Spencer? Was that you? Um... Move the door again if it was..."

He obliged, swinging the door shut gently as he stepped inside the room. The second the door clicked, he realized his mistake.

Now he was trapped in here with her. Not that it was a bad thing necessarily, but the last time this happened, he'd accidentally intruded on a rather intimate moment. His essence warmed at the thought.

"Holy shit. Um... This is kind of weird... I've gotten your notes and talked to you through the Ouija board, but... seeing you move things in front of me is... only slightly terrifying."

Her nervous laughter endeared him but also made him want to comfort her.

He walked over to the side of the bed closest to her body, hoping she'd be willing to communicate more thoroughly somehow. The two of them together could surely come up with something.

Again, their brains seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"If I hold out my hand... Would you touch it? Just to... let me know that it's you?"

Her arm outstretched, and Spencer slowly brought his middle finger down to touch hers, ever so lightly.

The second there was contact, there was a shock. Spencer jolted and Y/N yelled and yanked her hand back, her whole body shuddering as she kicked her legs. "Oh my God, holy fuck!" And then she laughed, reaching out to search for his touch again. He felt... different somehow, but he was still invisible to her. Her fingers wiggled and Spencer helped her out, gently holding her hand to keep it steady, as if to convey, "I'm right here, and it's okay."

"Hi," she said through a smile, her breathing heavy. "It's... Nice to... finally meet you. Kind of. Kind of meet you, I mean... Not kind of nice. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his thumb gently over the top of hers in response.

"I'm still wrapping my head around this whole thing, I... I guess I just wanted some extra confirmation that you were really here. Can I ask you some questions, Spencer?"

He rubbed her thumb again, and she breathed out with a smile.

"Okay um... Maybe draw a circle on the back of my hand for yes and an X for no... That sound good?"

Spencer traced a circle against her skin, and she nodded. "Good! Okay, cool. This is cool. Um... Did you live here? In this apartment?"

A circle.

"Is... that why you're here now?"

An X, and then a question mark.

"No... You don't know why you're here then?"

A circle.

Y/N pondered for a moment. "Could there be something of yours that's holding you here? Something we have to find or a mystery we have to solve?"

Spencer drew another question mark, then sighed. As much as he liked Y/N, he was pretty sure she would not be able to answer any of those questions. But there had to be another way to... level up, so to speak. To make him visible or audible.

"I'm sorry," she said somberly. "From what I've read, you seem like you were a good person. I hope you figure it out, whatever it is. And... I meant it. If there's anything I can do to help you, I will."

He drew a circle on her skin, but kept going around a few times, his symbol of appreciation.

Y/N warmed at the sentiment, smiling and hanging her head to look down at the hand he was holding. He didn't know it, but her skin was tingling at his invisible touch.

"Spencer... I know this is probably going to be weird... But the night I first met you, when my friends were with me... Robin asked you if... you'd uh... If you'd seen me..."

She wouldn't look up, like she was afraid to look at him even though she still couldn't see him. She didn't finish her sentence, seeming to be embarrassed about the punchline, but Spencer didn't need it. He knew exactly what she meant. Before she had time to retreat or move on, he drew a slow circle on the back of her hand.

Her head lifted. "You did see me? Naked?"

Spencer let out a shaky breath. Hesitated. Then drew another circle, followed by S-O-R-R-Y.

"Oh, I'm not upset, I promise. You don't have to be sorry."

Something shifted in her eyes then and she paused, and Spencer realized that before when she'd asked, she wasn't embarrassed. She was simply feeling the water before diving in.

He swallowed hard.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her voice was soft, but simultaneously hard with mischief. He looked at her then— truly looked at her with his overly-perfect Afterlife vision, and even in the dim light emanating from the open curtains and the streetlights beyond it, he could see her clear as day. Rather than the big tee-shirt she always wore to bed, tonight she was wearing something lacy and lavender.

And her door was closed. He couldn't leave this room.

Although, he had a feeling right then that it didn't matter anymore. Because his hand tightened over hers instinctively and he felt himself get hard beneath the suit pants he'd been buried in.

That's new, he thought through a sigh of excitement, quickly recalling that night he'd seen her. And heard her. Feeling was growing in his joints, and he found himself flexing his hands with a new strength he hadn't felt since being alive.

"Fuck," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief.

I think she may be slowly bringing me back to life.

He drew a slow, sensual circle on the back of her hand, and she laughed through a grin. "I was hoping you'd say that. I was also hoping that maybe we could try something a little... unconventional. The truth is, I've always hated living alone. It's too lonely, and I hate it... Now that I have you to keep me company, though... It's not nearly as bad."

She shifted her fingers, grabbing his hand and slowly bringing it to her face. Spencer caressed her as he came closer, his knees now touching the edge of her mattress. She closed her eyes and reveled in his touch, goosebumps forming along her skin.

"Will you touch me, Spencer?"

His name falling suggestively from her lips was quite possibly the greatest thing he'd ever experienced, among life and death. The afterlife. Whatever. None of it mattered, nothing mattered right then except for Y/N and her needs.

He drew a circle on her cheek and she laughed, the sound dissolving into a rather wanton sigh when he traced his middle finger down her jaw and over her throat. Just the gentlest of touches, barely even a touch at all.

"You want this just as bad as I do, don't you?" she asked, lolling her head to the side as his finger traced her collarbone and then her shoulder.

"I do." He focused on the way her chest heaved, slowly up and down as she melted into his touch, and then traced the strap of her nightgown until he reached the front, just at the curve of her breasts.

Y/N arched her back and pulled the covers away from her body, revealing herself to him in full as she got comfortable. She scooted and leaned back against the headboard, pulling Spencer along the side of the bed. He gladly followed.

"I give you permission to touch me in any way you see fit, okay? I... I want you to do whatever feels good to you. How does that sound?"

At the invitation, he quickly let his mind wander to extremely filthy places and wondered if he had the ability to taste again...

The thought alone made him twitch beneath his pants, and suddenly there was no going back.

He let out a long breath and touched the bottom hem of her nightgown. It was already short to begin with, but since she'd moved around in bed and her feet were flat, knees pointed upward, the fabric rode up to the very tops of her thighs. He drew another continuous circle right there, just below where it ended, and Y/N instinctively started to spread her knees apart.

Spencer stopped her, gripping one knee and spelling out W-A-I-T before slipping his shoes and jacket off. She arched an eyebrow, confused at first, but then looked down to the floor when she heard his shoes being kicked back and his clothing falling there.

And then, when he was ready, she looked back to the bed in front of her as Spencer climbed and knelt, positioning himself in front of her. Her eyes watched the mattress move, and a flicker of excitement danced over her features, amusing him.

He placed his hands on her knees, and even though she'd given him permission, he asked anyway, drawing a question mark against her skin.

She nodded. "Please."

Slowly, his hands pulled her legs apart. He drew it out as long as he possibly could, curious to know how long he could test her anticipation threshold. He still planned to give her everything she wanted, of course, but there was something oddly erotic about being touched by somebody you couldn't see that she was obviously keen to explore. So he would take his time until she begged him otherwise.

Sure enough, her stare was laser-focused on her body as he moved it to his liking, her breath hitching once her legs were far enough apart for him to realize she wasn't wearing anything underneath her nightgown and he paused. Already she was glistening with arousal, a sight that nearly made Spencer go completely slack.

"How long have you wanted this..." he wondered aloud, overwhelmed and in awe as his hands traveled firmly down her inner thighs. She squirmed under his bold touch, and leaned her head back against the headboard with a soft thud.

"Please," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to grip whatever bunched up fabric she could find on the bed.

He had planned to test the waters a little longer, ever so the scientist at heart, but figured that was as good of a plea as any to give in and finally give her what she wanted.

And so, Spencer ran a gentle, steady hand down through her heat, dragging his middle finger along the seam until he barely entered her, then came back up.

The long, desperate moan that Y/N drew out was like Heaven to his ears, and he'd never been more grateful for his heightened senses than in that moment. Every breath she took, every gloriously wet sound her body made as he explored her, every rustle of her hands through the sheets... All of it was sharp and crisp, and no other symphony had ever sounded so beautiful.

He wanted more of it.

One finger became two, and Spencer looked up to watch her face as he fingered her slowly. Parted lips and focused eyes fighting to stay open despite the pleasure she was feeling made for quite the perfect view, he almost didn't want to look away. But there was so much to beauty see between her soft facial features and the curves of her body and the obvious arousing sight below him. It was overwhelming how hot he felt in that moment, he could have sworn he was glowing.

His pace quickened, and Y/N had finally given into the temptation to close her yes, her head falling back again as she rolled her hips. He was getting impatient now.

With his other hand, against the inside of her thigh, Spencer spelled out "T-A-S-T-E-?"

"Oh, God, please. Yes."

Still hesitant to scare her even though his fingers were already deep inside her, rather than diving in as he so desperately wanted to, he slowly brought his head down to meet the area between her legs. He turned to press his cheek to the soft flesh of her thigh, and she gasped, the sound fading to a low laugh as she took in the feeling of his mouth and his hair caressing her skin. He kissed her then, tentatively darting his tongue out to taste her and sighing with relief once he realized he could actually taste again. Once he had that revelation, there was no going back. He was a man starved, his kisses growing more hungry as they traveled up and up and up...

Once his tongue made curious contact with the hood of her clit, Y/N gasped again, clutching her bed sheets and rolling her hips up to meet him. Spencer groaned, and a selfish part of him wished she could hear it. He wanted her to know just how crazy she was driving him, how much he wanted her. She could certainly feel it, her reaction to the vibrations causing her muscles to flex and her toes to curl, and he decided then that it would have to do. He was just going to have to make her feel his desire so deeply that it rattled in her bones and lingered there for the rest of eternity. He wanted to ruin everybody else for her, to stay with her until the end of time.

She reached and felt around for his head, fingers threading through invisible curls as she cried out.

"Spencer, you're so— so good..."

He hummed his approval at the praise and continued to work her, adding a third finger and sucking on her clit to feel her fingers tugging at his scalp. The sensation alone had him nearly lightheaded, and he wanted to stay there forever, lost in her taste and her touch and her noises.

God, her noises...

She sighed and whined, and stretched and squelched around his fingers, and he was convinced that had he not already been dead, he would have begged whoever was listening to keep him alive just to experience her forever.

The second she struggled to keep her legs open, trapping his head between them, he knew she was quickly approaching her orgasm, and he couldn't wait. He'd heard her climax before, but being right there as it was happening felt like a privilege he would always be grateful for. He wanted to replicate everything he'd heard that night and get to feel it, too— get to be the one to make her feel that way.

"Fuck, don't stop, I'm s— so close..."

Spencer groaned into her as if to say, "I know, I can feel you." Oh, how he wished he could talk her through it, to tease her with his words... Alas, he had no choice but to encourage her with his actions, so he used his free hand to search for one of hers. She gave up her hand to lace their fingers together, and his thumb continued to draw mindless circles into her skin as she clenched and released, over and over again until she was coming.

"Spencer!" she cried to the air, over and over again as if she could will him into existence again. It was a desperate plea, a manifestation, and the both of them secretly hoped that it would work.

She wanted to see him

He wanted her to see him, too.

He felt her climax subside, and then he slowly eased his fingers out of her and trailed his tongue down to keep tasting. A part of him was scared to realize he might not actually be visible like he hoped, but he pushed the potential disappointment aside and luxuriated in the way she tasted. He delved in and gripped the underside of her thighs to keep them steady, and with a delighted groan as he pushed his tongue inside, Y/N gasped.

"Fuck, I can hear you..."

The words excited him greatly.

"Thank God."

Spencer kissed her, tasted her until she was writhing and begging him to stop.

"Please, Spencer, kiss me."

He pulled away and looked up at her, smiling even though she still couldn't see him. "I am kissing you," he replied, pressing his lips to her thigh.

"You know what I mean. Come here..."

He laughed and obliged, kissing his way up her legs and crawling up her body. He slowly dragged his hands up her stomach, bunching up her nightgown and sliding it up her body the farther he got. Her eyes watched in allure as the fabric rode up and up and up, seemingly on its own. But she knew better, she knew who was undressing her and worshipping her, and it made her squirm.

She lifted her arms over her head and let him take the clothing off, revealing her chest to the chilly air. She watched as the fabric flew to the ground, and then felt Spencer's hands return to her skin, gentle fingers raising goosebumps all over. Her nipples pinched and hardened the closer he got to them, and soon enough he was palming her breasts as he pressed his forehead to hers, wedging his body between her legs.

"Kiss me," she breathed, feeling his nose touch hers. His breath was hot against her own, and her eyes fluttered shut. "Please..."

"Anything for you, sweet girl..."

She sighed as his mouth finally collided with her own, the heady and prominent taste of her arousal growing stronger the deeper he kissed her. Their bodies couldn't stop moving, wandering hands and urgent hips, and with his newfound ability to speak to her, Spencer spoke in gentle praises. He sighed out her name reverently, telling her how good and sweet and perfect she was, and she returned every word with a whimper, in awe that he was really there. He was becoming more and more present, and she couldn't get enough.

"I want to feel you," she said against his lips, dragging her hand down his invisible chest. She fingered through every button of his shirt until it was loose and open, and the cool hum of his skin as she explored his torso made her hands numb.

Spencer kissed her jaw and groaned, feeling himself throb at her words. "Let me help..."

He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bulge in his pants, even though she could have just as easily stumbled onto it herself. The intimacy of it all was almost overwhelming, so much so that when her grip tightened softly on his clothed erection, Spencer almost came undone right then and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... I'd say you're going to be the death of me, but..."

They laughed together until she kissed him again, deeply and with a sigh. "You're becoming more and more real, but... this feels like... it feels like a dream."

He understood what she meant, and it filled him with a tinge of sadness, but her hand slowly palming him was becoming harder and harder to ignore. He gripped her wrist and his breath hitched in her ear as he nipped at it.

"Trust me, sweetheart... I am very real."

She shuddered at his words and squeezed him tighter before fumbling for his belt.

"Spencer... Do you think..." Her hands successfully undid the confines of his pants and started to slide them down over his hips, trying not to mess up her words as he sucked marks into her neck. "Do you think that if you fuck me... I'll finally be able to see you?"

"Mmm, God, I hope so," he groaned earnestly, repositioning themselves so he could kick off his pants and rest her head on the pillow. She let him take the lead, her breath getting heavier with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs and grabbed her wrist. Once again, he was guiding her hand to his cock, hard and, this time, bare. She cursed under her breath as she gripped him and he helped her languidly stroke himself in exploration. His fingers were strong over hers, and he applied just the right amount of pressure to draw out a groan from the both of them.

"Please," she sighed out desperately through shallow breaths. "Spencer, please, I need you..."

How could he resist?

He didn't even want to entertain the thought of trying.

"Then let me take care of you, sweet girl," he cooed, hiking her thighs to rest over his hips and slowly sinking into her with ease.

Once he was all the way in, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, comforting her through the low burn. He slowly rolled his hips forward as she cried out his name, her fingers coming up to grip his shoulders. "You feel that?" he whispered into her skin. "How perfectly I fit inside you? It's like you were made for me..."

"Uh-huh," she stuttered in agreement.

He stopped teasing her then, pulling back to start fucking her nice and slow as she adjusted to him. Her fingers curled and knotted into the loose material of his shirt. She would have slid it off of him, but the grip on something steady was nice as she let him focus on his ministrations. He seemed to be doing just fine with the shirt on, anyway, and it was hard to even think about anything other than how good he felt.

She wondered then, as he picked up momentum and started peppering kisses down her jawline, what she looked like to the night. If she were standing there, outside her own body, watching herself being thoroughly and beautifully wrecked by something invisible and obviously enjoying every second...

Her eyes rolled back at the image, just as Spencer started going harder. His hips snapped into hers with a strength and precision that felt like it was rattling worlds. It very well could have been, and neither of them had any mind to care; They were so intensively intertwined with each other that it was a different world entirely.

They started to burn hot, that familiar warm chill of impending pleasure creeping up through their bodies and setting them alight. Y/N snaked her arms up to Spencer's neck and brought him down for a searing kiss as she melted into him, and he returned it with a fervor that elicited the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He felt it all the way in his bones, felt the waves of pleasure start to drag him under as she squeezed him with her limbs and started to come undone herself.

The atmosphere around them was purely electrifying, bright snaps of skin and sharp whispers of mouth combining to brew a perfect storm that nothing would ever survive. It was wild and unconstrained, glimmering and grand, and in their wake, the two entities left their desire lingering in the air for the dead of night to stew in for as long as it would allow.

Spencer collapsed on top of her with a hefty sigh, and he was grateful to be able to finally share his voice with her. The mystery and simplicity of the X's and O's were fun to indulge in at first, but now that they'd grown closer and created something beautiful and memorable together, he had to tell her exactly how he felt— no symbols, no mysteries...

He kissed her softly and pulled back to look into her eyes, dragging a thumb over her cheekbone as he told her the truth.

"You're perfect."

Her eyes went wide, welling with tears as she reached up and ran a finger softly along the bridge of his nose.

"You're beautiful."

Relief and something else—something warm—stirred in Spencer's chest at the confirmation that she could finally see him, and that she was moved by what she saw. Who she saw...

He couldn't help the smile that adorned his face, and the soft joyous laughter that escaped him as she continued to explore his features with the pads of her fingertips, like she was trying to memorize him from touch alone in case he suddenly disappeared again.

"I mean it, Spencer, you're... even more beautiful than I imagined."

"You imagined me?" he inquired rather suggestively.

With a laugh, she brought him down for a slow, searing kiss. "Duh..."

Even though they were tired, they stayed like that for hours, kissing and exploring and sighing until the sweet lull of sleep took hold and carried them through the night.

For a solid few hours until he awoke, Spencer completely forgot that he wasn't alive.

ACT III: Unfinished Business

Y/N had never done so much research in her entire life. She liked Spencer, and she was more than happy to help him out, but man... Reading dozens of articles and textbooks and blogs about the different types of spirits and how to lay them to rest was a long, exhausting road that led pretty much nowhere. There was no way to know what type of ghost Spencer was or how to help him move on, not that she could see, anyway. She didn't know if he'd age with her, or be 'undead' long enough to become vicious and bitter like a lot of the spirits she read about, and Spencer's research was just about as inconclusive as her own.

A selfish part of her hoped she'd never find out, to keep him around forever... But she also knew that wasn't fair to him. No matter how lonely she was or how much fun they had and how they enjoyed each other's company, well... The fact of the matter was, he was dead.

And he deserved to rest.

In the meantime, in the hours between headache-inducing frustration at the lack of answers, Spencer told her about his life. His friends, mostly— the best people he'd ever known. The way he described them, she had a feeling that they might hold the key to his dilemma. If not directly, perhaps there was something about him that they knew, something that might give Y/N some insight into his ghostly purpose, so to speak. Not that she couldn't ask Spencer directly, but they'd already discussed a lot of back-and-forth on enemies and people that could have wanted to harm him, all of which were surefire impossibilities. Not to mention the fact that he seemed tied to this apartment and not anything else. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with it, but neither of them knew.

It was the only other option she had.

They laid next to each other in her bed, her head laying on his chest. Her ear warmed gently, and tried as she might to hear a heartbeat, all she could hear was a faint white noise, almost like he was merely a figure of tangible energy rather than a body. She supposed that was technically what he was, but as much as she'd grown to know and like Spencer, it was hard to think of him that way. It was... sad to think of him that way.

She frowned and nestled into him, trying to push away that petulant nagging in the depths of her soul that screamed "This isn't fair!" and she told him the most difficult thing she'd ever had the courage to push past her lips.

"I think I have an idea... You can say no if you think it's too weird, but... It might help you. Maybe."

"Mmm, what's that?" he responded, curious but not audibly hopeful. It made Y/N even more sad to think he probably figured he'd never find peace.

"What if I go talk to your friends? Do you think they might know something you don't?"

There was a beat of silence before she felt his chest heave with gentle laughter. "Derek Morgan definitely wouldn't think so..."

Recalling some of the funny stories he'd told her about him, she smiled. Still, she pressed. "I mean it. What other outlets do we have? Where else is there to look? If there's anyone who knows you better than anyone else, wouldn't it be them?"

Spencer sighed, giving it a thought. His fingers raked through her hair and massaged her scalp to the point of gentle, comforting numbness, another one of those domestic moments that had her feeling absolutely conflicted.

And then, he said, "Actually... I think I know exactly who you should talk to..."

———

There was a deep chill in her bones as she approached Penelope Garcia's apartment building, but not because of the lively, rustling October wind. In fact, she wanted to throw up at the thought of having this conversation. But not because she didn't want to help Spencer. She did, more than anything.

She was just afraid of being arrested.

Spencer assured her that it would be fine and that Penelope was harmless, and while the latter she could believe, it still nerved her to wander up to a woman's door and announce that she lived in the apartment of her beloved dead co-worker and needed to help him fulfill his destiny as a spirit. It sounded like a cruel joke.

"If anyone would believe you, it would be Penelope," he'd said, comforting her with a pat on the shoulder.

Maybe it was true, but she didn't want to find out if it wasn't. It was one thing to have the door slammed in your face by a grief-stricken loved one, but a grief-stricken loved one who worked for the fucking FBI was ten times worse; There were a lot more horrifying outcomes that came with that combination.

Still, she trusted Spencer on a level she'd barely trusted anyone else, and he wasn't even alive for God's sake... So she strapped on her boots, threw on her most comfortable jacket, and braced the wind and whatever fate blew with it.

For Spencer.

"For Spencer," she muttered under her breath as she rapped on the door. Three times. Third time's the charm, three's a crowd, three clicks of the heel and you're home... Three seemed like a lucky number. Three was inviting, friendly, not intended to inflict emotional damage.

Please, God, don't let her hate me, Y/N prayed to whoever was listening. Don't let this go horribly wrong.

A bright voice was yelling beyond the door, and with every millisecond that it got louder and closer, her heart started to beat faster. Blood thrummed in her ears, and she kept repeating, "For Spencer, for Spencer, for Spencer," on a loop to remind her why she was going through all this anxiety.

The voice got closer, but still muffled, until the door swung open. Then it stopped altogether. Y/N blinked and stood there with a stiff back and sweaty palms, in front of Penelope Garcia. The woman was obviously expecting somebody else to be at the door, but she didn't look disappointed, just confused.

"Oh. You're not Luke. How can I help you?"

"Um... My name is Y/N. I... Before I tell you why I'm here, I need you to know that I'm not trying to play a trick on you, and I don't want to make you sad or upset, and if there's anything you need or want to know about me in order to trust me, then I'll gladly give you that information, but this is really important and I need you to know that I'm not crazy or harmful, I just want to help him."

Penelope's eyes went wide as she reached out and grabbed her hand. The thrumming in her ears got louder as she took a deep breath and waited for the yelling to start, her body to be thrown to the ground, or a sharp piercing sting of a backhand.

The only thing she felt, however, was a tug at her heart and the gentle dissipation of nerves as Penelope spoke one simple word.

"Spencer."

"How... How did you know?"

"Ever since he... Since he's been... I just knew something didn't feel right. Everyone told me that it was just grief, and for a while that's also what I told myself, but... That feeling was just too... Wait, who did you say you were again?"

Y/N stuttered her name and gripped Penelope's hand tighter, hoping to create some rapport. "I live in his apartment. He's been... Visiting me."

Something in her eyes softened and then saddened at the confirmation that her friend was somehow still among the living. "A visitor in his own home... Poor Boy Genius..."

She couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "He said you called him that often..."

Wide eyes welling with tears, Penelope nodded and tugged at her visitor's hand. "He was the smartest person I ever knew. Kindest, too. Here, come on inside, I'll make you some tea. Do you like tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?"

Her hospitality as she ushered her inside was both comforting and saddening to Y/N. It was in her nature to be that way to guests, even strangers, sure, but it also acted as a shield from the somber feelings she'd been rushed with at a moment's notice, no thanks to said stranger.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Penelope," Y/N rushed as she shrugged her coat off. "You don't have to make me anything."

"Oh, I know I don't have to, but would you like something warm to drink?"

She was practically begging for the distraction, something to do with her hands as she had time to process and prepare for what was about to happen.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

"Perfect, I'll get it started. Make yourself comfortable, Sweets."

She carried her coat over her arms, holding it to her chest like a tether to reality. None of this felt real, even though she could still feel the warm glow of Spencer's energy all around her, like it had burrowed into the pores of her skin and made a home there.

As she looked around at Penelope's bright and colorful space, she thought about him... How often had he been here? What did they do together, and where did they hang out? She imagined the laughter and the stories and the cooking... She wished she would have known him then, been a part of his life. As scary as he told her it was at times, she knew there were also plenty of bright spots, and she knew Penelope was definitely one of the brightest.

Y/N smiled, hugging her coat tighter.

"I like your apartment," she complimented, sitting down at a small dining table in the corner.

"Thank you! I always told Spencer he should get some more color, but... What can I say, he really loved his neutrals."

The familiar detail brought a smile to her face. "That doesn't surprise me. He told me that even though he likes me, he really hates my floral couch and that it looked weird in his apartment. I told him he was boring." And, that technically, it was her apartment now. In fact, her exact words after the fact were, "What are you going to do, haunt me?" before they both laughed and continued making out on said couch.

But she didn't need to remind Penelope of the fact that he was gone. Or to inform her that she was intimately involved with his ghost.

Just the thought alone was enough to make the low, ever-present hum of his imprinted memory on her skin even more intense, and she smiled.

"Oh... I know that look."

Y/N looked up at Penelope, who was grinning with the most mischievous gleam in her eye.

"What look?"

"You think he's cute, don't you?"

"I... I don't..."

"Well, I suppose even if you can't see him, I'm sure he's charmed you anyway. And you probably Googled him."

"How did you—"

"It's what I would have done... So?" she prompted, still waiting for an answer of some kind.

Y/N sighed, defeated and impressed by Penelope's skills at quickly retrieving information. But she also didn't want to lie to her, so she had no choice but to answer her questions with the truth anyway. "Well, I can see him. But I couldn't at first. My um... My friends came over one night, and they brought a Ouija board. We used it for shits and giggles because I'd joked to them after I moved in that I didn't feel totally alone, and well..."

"It wasn't a joke?"

Penelope brought over the tea, steaming and aromatic. Y/N took it with a nod of thanks and sighed as she sat down across from her.

"No. But I didn't actually think I was living with a ghost, I mean... I didn't believe in that stuff. But I also wasn't going to risk pissing him off, so I tried to be nice to him. I only knew his name, and then my friends looked him up and we read his obituary, and... I don't know, I guess I just thought he seemed like a good person, so he deserved some kindness in the afterlife. I said hello to the air every time I came home from work, I yelled out a good night before going to bed... And then he started leaving me notes on my bathroom mirror, and I guess... I don't know, the more he and I got to know each other, the easier things became. Eventually he could touch things, and then soon after he was audible, then visible..."

She conveniently left out the details of that journey, though her skin warmed again at the memory.

"And now that we can communicate, it's become clear to me that he doesn't know where he's going— Why he's not at rest... I feel bad for him. He deserves..." Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard before looking down at the mug in her hand. "He deserves to move on."

Penelope was quiet for a moment as Y/N sipped her tea. Her hand reached out to grab hers, and the gesture almost had her in tears.

"You sound... Sad about that."

She couldn't help the pressure that pulsed behind her eyes, stabbing at her throat... Still, she made herself speak, barely above a whisper to prevent that inevitable cracking of the voice that would surely break the dam she was trying so hard to keep still and strong. "I... I know it sounds absolutely crazy..."

"You're falling in love with him."

Though the words didn't come from her own mouth, they came flying at her like a sucker punch to the gut. The wind was knocked out of her for a moment, until all she could do was exhale and let the tears fall silently as she nodded.

Penelope let her cry for a minute or two without a word while holding her hand, until she was ready to elaborate. "But I can't... I can't keep him here, it's not right. If he doesn't have any unfinished business, then he should be put to rest. And I... I don't know how to help him. I thought maybe, if I could talk to the people who knew him the best... I could get an idea."

"Oh, Honey, I... I'm sorry, but I don't know any more than you do." She was talking through tears herself, and Y/N squeezed her hand back. "His mother's been gone for years now, and there's no other family that he was close enough with to even consider, other than us, but... Truthfully I don't know if we really count in the grand scheme of things... I'd like to think that we do..."

"You might not be blood-related, but you were his family. He loved you so much, I could tell by the way he spoke about all of you. He... He misses you a lot. I just wish he didn't have to feel that loss anymore."

Penelope frowned. "I wish I could give you an answer... When you go back to him... Will you at least tell him that we love him?"

"He already knows. But yes. I will."

"And I'll keep on thinking. Whatever you need, you got it. I have access to pretty much everything so if there's information to be had, I will get my paws on it, and you will know. Thank you for coming to see me. And for telling me that Spencer's okay... He is okay, right?"

Y/N hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure how to answer without giving away their extra-curricular activities. "I think so. He's tired, I can tell. But I do my best to keep him happy. The last thing I need is to have him angrily haunting me."

Penelope laughed, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I think that means you better get rid of that glorious couch, then."

The laughter was a welcome break from the tears, which had already started to dry on her skin, leaving her cheeks itchy. "I really appreciate you being so kind, Penelope... Losing Spencer must have been absolutely impossible, and having a complete stranger show up at your door and pour salt in the wound... I couldn't imagine..."

"Y/N... If there was any person on this planet who could have moved into his apartment and helped him through this... I think I speak for the whole BAU when I say that he's lucky it's you."

The sentiment made her chest tight, and an involuntary pout tugged at her mouth. "You... You really mean that?"

Penelope laughed and squeezed her hand again. "Oh, Darling, you even pout like him... You're kind of perfect for each other."

"I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that," she replied through a fit of hysterics, and Penelope joined her.

It was clear then that these two women were meant to bond seamlessly over the loss of someone dear, one in life and the other in death. They were two sides of the same coin, a best friend and an anchor to the other side. It was a solace that neither of them had expected, but welcomed with open arms and warm understanding.

They exchanged stories and laughs and phone numbers and hugs, and joked about exchanging addresses, and a while later, just as Y/N was about to go home, fastening her coat, Penelope stopped her.

"Wait... I don't mean to make you sad or anything, and maybe this isn't the answer that either of you were looking for... But after today? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Spencer's unfinished business is you."

The thought froze her entirely. It would stand to reason that they were meant to find each other, only to let each other go. Because, of course. Nobody was ever that lucky, especially neither Spencer nor his new roommate.

Sensing her overthinking, Penelope continued. "I know it's unfortunate given the circumstances, but... You did say that the more you got to know him, the more... alive he became. At least as alive as he can be. And I've only known you for about an hour, but I can confidently say that you are about as perfect for Spencer as somebody could be for anybody. And..."

She shifted on her feet, unsure of whether she should actually say what she was about to tell her, but obviously needing to make her point with as much context as possible. "You know, he's tried. He watched many of us find love and have families of our own, and he's always wanted that, but... He never got to have it. I think... that was the one thing that he always truly and completely wanted, especially after his mom passed and he had no one left but us... Somebody to go home to, somebody who understood him and cared about him and wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him... A soulmate. And... Y/N, I think it might be you."

Her head was swimming and tears were blurring her vision again. As much as she wanted to believe it, ever the lover of grand romantic endings, it didn't make sense. She didn't really believe in soulmates, did she? Then again, she didn't believe in ghosts, either, until recently...

"How could you possibly know that?" she whispered to Penelope, hoping for a switch in her brain to flip. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to dash home and confidently confess to the ghost living in her apartment that they were made for each other and that she could finally set him free.

And... Then what?

There had to be another explanation.

"I wish I could tell you how, definitively," Penelope answered sadly, "and like I said, I don't want to upset you... But it's just a feeling. And my feelings are hardly ever wrong. Hey, I mean I had a feeling that Spencer was still out there somehow, and that turned out to be true, right?"

"I... I guess," she sniffled.

"Just... Do me a favor, okay? Think about it. Spend tonight with him, like you normally do, and really really think about it. And tell me you don't feel it."

It almost sounded like a playful challenge rather than a request. Y/N wiped at her eyes and sighed. "You're really sure?"

"Positive."

Y/N wasn't really sure if she believed it still, but there was a conviction in Penelope's voice that was too sincere to ignore. And Spencer trusted her, which obviously meant a lot.

So, she promised that she would think about it anyway, bade her new friend farewell, and made her way outside, where the wind had died and left the streets lifeless and quiet.

———

Something was different about Y/N when she came home.

Spencer tried to let her go about the night and refrain from saying anything, but after regretfully informing him that Penelope had no wisdom to offer her about their situation but would get back to her if anything did come to mind, she was... odd. Perhaps she was just as tired as he was in trying to solve this mystery, or just tired in general. But he didn't want to push her if she didn't want to open up, so he did what he could and offered his company.

Still, she didn't seem right.

He thought maybe a flurry of warm, tender kisses along her skin would put her in high spirits, but the longer she let him worship her skin without so much as a sigh in return, it started to sink in that something was deeply wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asked sweetly, stroking her jaw with the back of his hand as he looked her in the eye. She looked at him for only a few seconds before averting her gaze, like if she allowed him to meet her eyes for any longer, he'd pull something from her that she'd rather not share. It sent a small wave of panic through him. "Y/N, talk to me, please... What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," she said unconvincingly.

"You don't... have to talk about it if you don't want to... But you're upset about something, and I want to help you. I'll do whatever you need me to. I'll listen, I'll leave you alone, I'll kiss it better... Whatever you want. It's yours."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, defeated. "God, you FBI people are too good at getting information out of people, it's annoying."

Spencer laughed. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel interrogated. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just... I'm..."

She couldn't seem to get out the words, like there was a frustrating lack of understanding how to convey them. He drew continuous circles gently into her palm and waited patiently for her to open up, silently promising that he would be there for her when she finally found the right words.

It was a question that she finally settled on. "Have you ever been in love? Like... Really in love?"

Something inside him jolted at the thought of where this conversation might lead. If he had a heartbeat, it would have raced and thrummed so heavily that the organ might have failed. In truth, he'd been thinking about it for a week or two now. Ever since the night he realized that his interactions with her were the key to becoming more sentient, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps she was the thing he was tethered to.

He didn't dare say it out loud, or to her face, because... Well, it was too soon, wasn't it? And it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because once he was lain to rest, they could never be together.

It was complicated.

"I think I was, a few times," he finally answered in earnest. "And to be fair, just because things didn't work out with them, it doesn't mean I didn't really love them. I did. But... I think deep down I knew they weren't really The One... Does that make sense?"

"I think so... I don't think I've ever been in love before. Even with long-term partners, we said the words, and I felt something that was happy and I thought was love, but..." She paused, avoiding his eye again before rapidly blinking back tears. "Now I feel this... this anchor to you that I can't let go of... I want to be around you all the time and I know it's not fair because you deserve to rest, but I can't help it. Spencer, I... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm afraid that once I really admit it out loud, you'll be gone forever."

He knew, then, that this was it. Listening intently as she confessed, absorbing every word and allowing himself to feel and admit what he knew to be true for a while now, his body began to tingle. It was so dull at first, he almost mistook the feeling for 'butterflies'. It felt cruel not to tell her that he was starting to fade, but he didn't want to ruin the moment or panic her. He didn't want to tell her that she was running out of time. That they were running out of time.

So, instead, to try and ease the blow, he told her something sweet.

He told her, "I love you."

Her eyes glossed over at the confession. She reached urgently for his hands, her grip strong and willing like she knew what was going to happen. And maybe she did. Still, she sat there and listened to him, her eyes taking in every inch of his presence and committing him to memory.

He aimed to make it a memory she would never forget.

"I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I don't doubt that we will. Not for a second. And until then, my only wish is that you keep allowing yourself to fall in love. Don't be afraid of it. You shouldn't deny yourself just because I'm gone. Can you promise me that you'll try?"

Y/N blinked away tears and tugged at his hands. "What if I can't?"

"You will, my sweet girl. And I promise, I won't be mad at you."

She laughed despite herself, then almost cried again when she felt his presence start to fizzle and break in front of her eyes. She was desperate to hold on to him, clutching his hands for dear life and breathlessly whispering, "I love you, Spencer Reid," as if the conviction alone would be enough to keep him here. As if whatever cruel deity was putting them through this would see how much she needed him and decided to spare her the misery.

"I wish I could have known you when I was alive," he told her, leaning in closer. "Maybe we could have been neighbors."

She smiled through tears and pressed her forehead to his, the contact making her skin go numb. Silently she hoped that wherever he was going, she would be sucked in with him. "Then I would have invited you over for dinner."

He squeezed her hands, already feeling his grip fading, his essence nearly numbing him. Still, he willed himself to stay long enough to paint this life for the two of them—one they would never get to have, except only in dreams and perhaps in another life entirely. Anything was possible, after all.

"And I still would have made fun of your ugly couch."

"And I would have pushed you onto it and made you take it back."

"And I would have refused."

"And I would have kissed you ."

"And I would have kissed you back."

"And I would have fallen in love with you immediately."

"And I would have sworn that I'd fall in love with you in every universe."

She closed her eyes, feeling the very last remnants of his presence as she whispered, "I think it's safe to assume that you already have."

"And I think I'm inclined to agree."

THE END

[acewithapaintbrush]

Saw @artsymeeshee hospital sketches of the sea grunks and thought to myself, is this finally my time to write some brotherly angst for these two? The answer is yes. Short but sweet, please enjoy.

******************************

The first thing Stan becomes aware of is the noise.

A constant beeping right next to his ear. Loud and high-pitched and repetitive and unfortunately very familiar to an old grifter with bad luck like him. He would be a lot more annoyed with this sound if his last clear memory wasn't of roaring waters rushing past his ears, stealing his hearing and leaving nothing but white noise behind.

He'd rather take the beeping.

Next comes taste, which, ugh! He could have gone without that! The feel of scratchy sheets is not much better but it tells him that he is in one of the better hospitals. Believe it or not, the better the hospital, the scratchier the sheets. Ford should cool it with the mystical beasts and research what's up with that!

Speaking of Ford.

Stan keeps his breathing even as he slowly opens his eyes. The light has been dimmed in anticipation and he blinks a couple times at a ceiling that is painted a nondescript beige color. He looks at it for a moment and for some strange reason he suddenly feels a fierce urge to video call Mabel.

But first things first.

Stan slowly turns his head to the side which actually hurts. Don't they have him on the good stuff?

Just as he expected, there is his brother. Ford has squeezed himself into the same bed as Stan, facing his brother's prone form. Stan can't help but smile. His brother must have bullied the nurses into letting him stay. The bed is way too small for two grown men but somehow the genius has managed to practically fold himself into a compact ball, leaving enough room for all those fancy machines connected to the patient. One of his hands lightly rests against Stan's chest which he hasn't even noticed until now.

Ford's eyes are closed but he is mumbling under his breath, reciting one of his journal entries from memory.

Stan winces. His brother must be really rattled by this little mishap.

‘Great job giving the guy another thing to worry about, Stanley!’

“I think climbing into the hospital bed with the patient is against the rules, Sixer? You are not supposed to do that.”

He was going for levity and humor but his hoarse voice kinda ruins that.

Ford's eyes don't snap open. He doesn't gasp or jerk upright or anything like that. Instead he takes a shuddering breath and deliberately opens his eyes. They find Stanley immediately and there is not a hint of surprise in them. Stan wonders how long Ford has known that he's awake.

“Same to you,” Ford says and his voice is so flat it causes a shiver to run down Stan's spine.

“Hey, s’not like I planned for this to happen.”

“I would be very cross with you if you had planned falling overboard, Stanley.”

Ford's emotions still feel weirdly flat. He isn't even lecturing and scolding Stan for his reckless behavior, just presses his six-fingered hand against his chest and stares at him with those blank eyes.

“I'm alright.” Stan shifts so he can face his brother and, damn, those ribs are definitely cracked. He briefly wonders if that happened in the fall or whether someone had to do CPR on him and quickly decides that maybe he doesn't want to know. Close call. Much too close. “I'm alright, Ford,” he repeats as if that makes it true.

For the first time an emotion flickers through Ford's face. He narrows his eyes and for a moment Stan thinks he's angry but then a single tear runs down an unshaven cheek, immediately seeping into the pillow.

“I thought I lost you for good,” Ford whispers, voice tortured. “I couldn't find you. For the longest time. I looked and I looked and you were just… gone. I couldn't find you!”

‘Same to you,’ Stan echoes with a bit of a bitter edge, mind replaying thirty years of hunching down in a dusty basement in a matter of seconds.

But this is not about him and Stan is, no matter what some might want to tell you, not an insensitive asshole.

“You did find me,” he says. He doesn't actually know if that's true. The time after he fell into the ocean during that storm is still a bit of a mystery to him. All he remembers is the noise of the water and how cold he felt and a voice screaming his name, over and over, growing fainter with each wave crashing over his head.

But Ford needs some reassurance right now. And the best way to reassure Ford that Stan is alright is by proving his alrightness with a good, old Pines hug.

He lightly pulls at the hand on his chest and with a cut off gasp Ford immediately obliges, scooting closer until they are entwined with one another just like they were as kids when the nightmares became too much to remain separated by a bunk bed.

“You found me.” Stan repeats and ignores the tears soaking into his hospital gown.

‘That's what we do,’ he thinks with a content smile, eyes falling shut with exhaustion. ‘We always find each other again.’

[huskersbooze]

Who's in Control?

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : swear words

Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)

Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off

Word count : 1.8k

"Good morning, dear."

"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.

"How was your sleep, darling?"

"It was good! And yours?"

"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."

The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.

-----

You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.

And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.

He was growing a soft-spot for you.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.

Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.

But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.

“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.

“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”

“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.

“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”

“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”

“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”

“Al and I are just friends.”

“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”

“Still, we're just friends-”

“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”

“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”

The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.

“He owns my soul..?”

“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”

“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”

You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.

But you were confused.

“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”

“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”

“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”

“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”

“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.

“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”

“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”

“About..?”

“What it means to sell your soul.”

“I know what it means, Al said-”

“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”

“Because you like your job..?”

“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”

“Who..?”

“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”

And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.

He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.

He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.

He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.

And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.

“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”

“Yup.” Angel nods.

“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”

“Exactly.” Husk replies.

“And there's no escaping this contract..?”

“No.” The two reply together.

“Fuck.”

-----

“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.

There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”

“You alright, kid?”

“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.

The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.

And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.

“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.

Everyone turns their attention towards her.

Everyone but Alastor.

He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.

How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?

But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?

He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.

Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”

“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.

Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.

“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.

“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.

“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?

“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”

“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.

Alastor stiffens, then laughs.

“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”

“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”

You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.

Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.

What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?

“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.

Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.

“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”

You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”

“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”

“Dear, please, listen to me..!”

“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”

He pauses.

“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.

-----

“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”

“About the deal?”

“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”

“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."

“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.

“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”

Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”

“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”

“I surely hope you're correct."

———/ TBC. /———

READ PART 2 HERE

[azrielbrainrot]

Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should he seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him, as the other met to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

[allllium]

Sleepover

~ Soft!Jason is the best Jason

~ WC: 1,566 [Fluff, Hurt/Comfort]

- You and Jason have a sleepover

You and Jason have been dating for a couple months at this point and he has yet to sleepover at your house. Not only that but he's never allowed you to sleep at his overnight. For a while you didn't know whether or not to be offended by this but Jason quickly assured you that wasn't the case.

You know Jason went through some shit, as much as he's tried to hide it, the scar on his chest isn't something he can easily hide from the light. Although he's yet to explain everything to you, you try your best to understand some things he simply can't do.

Once you finally accepted that spending the night with Jason wasn't something you'd be able to do, he surprised you.

“Hey sweetheart.” He greets you as you answer the phone.

“Hey Jay, what's up?” You don't know why he's calling you only an hour before he's coming over for dinner, but to each their own.

“Nothing much. I was just wondering how you felt about having dinner over at my place?”

“Oh um yeah we can do that. Is there any reason?”

“Do I need a reason to cook for the one I love?” He was gonna cook at your house anyway.

“You know you were gonna have to cook at my place anyway, what's really going on?”

“Nothing, baby. I'll see you later?”

“Yeah I'll be there.”

As suspicious as it was, you got ready and began your short journey to Jason's place. Even though you don't know what's about to happen you've eliminated a few options. There's no way he'd want you to come to his apartment if he was going to dump you. Not that he would either way. You think.

When you push open the door, you can see that Jason has already finished preparing dinner. He's now trying and failing to light candles on the table.

“Need help with that?” You ask him, taking off your shoes by the door.

“No, I got it.” He gets the candles lit and turns to greet you properly. With a very excited kiss from your boyfriend and a very fancy dinner, you know something is going on.

“Hi Jay.” You smile sweetly. Giving him a tender hug.

“Hi. I'm glad you're here.” Looking into his eyes you can see the vulnerability shining through.

You look around his apartment to see nothing but furniture. You're well aware of Jason's neat freak habit but somehow something seems different. You decide not to read anything into it, considering he constantly cleans your own apartment when he comes over.

“I'm glad too. But can I know why?” It's not that you don't want to be at his place, it's just that you rarely are. You can count on your hand the amount of times he has invited you to his instead of suggesting yours.

“I just want to enjoy a night here, with you.” That's vague.

“Okay? What's for dinner?” You decide to change the subject, he'll tell you what he's thinking about eventually.

You and Jason eat your dinner in almost complete silence. It's comfortable silence, not that awkward silence when you just don't know what to say. You can tell he's overthinking something but you don't know whether or not you should ask about it. The last thing you want to do is pressure him into talking.

Soon after you move onto the couch to watch a movie. Despite your insistence to clean the dishes before laying down, he drags you with him to watch a movie. Something you've never seen before and low-key have no interest in but you're happy just laying with him while he enjoys it.

“Mm Jay.” You poke at his shoulder and try to get his attention. He quickly looks up at you from his position with his head laying in your lap.

“What's up sweetness?” You can barely hear him though the sleepiness coating his voice.

“I should probably go.” You whisper. This is usually the point where Jason politely but firmly kicks you out. He always tries his best not to be mean about it.

“No?” He says as a question.

“What do you mean? You want me to stay a little longer?” Your heart beats faster as you realize what he might mean. This is ridiculous. So he might want you to stay the night. No need to have a heart attack over it. It's just sleeping.

“Can you stay the night?” He asks, even quieter than before, like he's prepared for you to say no.

“Of course I can.” You immediately confirm, continuing to scratch his scalp as if your heart's not about to beat out of your chest.

“I'm sorry I haven't asked you before.” He begins to explain, you try to tell him he doesn't need to but he continues. “I've wanted to for a while now but I haven't been able to. It's because of you, I have nightmares and I've been too scared to really deal with them. But you make me feel more relaxed than I have ever been.”

“I make you relaxed?”

“What? Is that the only thing you got from that?” He seems genuinely surprised at your single question.

“Well yeah. I like knowing that you feel relaxed around me.”

“You're not worried or anything?” He pulls his head out of your lap to make eye contact as you talk.

“Worried? About what?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion and try to think about something you should be worried about. There's nothing you can think of.

“Well I don't know. Like having your sleep interrupted or having to deal with me in the middle of the night.” The more he talks the more anxious he gets. You can tell he's starting to doubt his decision to ask you to stay.

“Of course not. It's not like I get enough sleep anyway and I am more than happy to help you if that's what you need, at any time.”

“You really do need to get more sleep.”

“Okay Mr falling asleep on me.” You roll your eyes in sarcasm.

“C'mon that's on you. You can't play with my hair and expect me not to react. I'm only human after all.”

“Hmm I'm not too sure about that, you're too perfect to be human.” He gives you a big grin as he stands off the couch and starts to pull you off as well.

“Then I guess we'll be aliens together.” He pulls you into him and looks deep into your eyes.

“Such a sweet talker.” You rebut, trying to keep distracted from the butterflies filling your stomach.

“Yeah, just for you.” He spins you both in the direction of his bedroom. Yeah those butterflies are too strong to ignore.

Sitting on his bed, he stands off to the side of it, contemplating something.

“It's okay Jay, I can go if you need? Or sleep on the couch?” You try to stand but he immediately pushes you back down.

“No fucking way.”

“Are you gonna come sit with me?”

“Yes. I'm just thinking.”

“About?” You gently reach over and pull his hand into yours. Softly coaxing him closer.

“This. Us.”

“Hm all good things?”

“Yeah all good.” He smiles and joins you on the bed.

“Good. I really like you.”

“I really like you too.” You can't hide your smile once you see the slight red tint his face has taken. “Do you want something better to sleep in?”

“Yes please.” Without another word, he grabs you some clothes of his, and lets you change privately.

Soon enough you're laying on your side in his bed with him pressed up behind you. His arms quickly make their way over your body to pull you as close as possible.

“This might be the comfiest I've ever been.” He sleepily tells you, warm breath hitting the back of your neck.

“Me too. Your bed is extremely comfortable.”

“I hope so, I want you here all the time.”

“That can be arranged.” You dig yourself deeper into his bed and arms. You feel as if you've been buried in a giant cocoon of warmth and you never want to leave.

It doesn't take long for you both to fall into a deep sleep, and although you expected it, neither one of you wakes up throughout the night.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Jason greets you sweetly from his place by the stove. The smell of pancakes overwhelms you.

“Good morning Jay. Why are you up so early?” You sit on the counter next to the stove, watching him move gracefully as he cooks.

“I wanted to thank you. I know pancakes aren't the best thank you gift but it's all I have at the moment.”

You quickly cut off his rambling, “thank you gift? For what?”

“For staying with me. Last night was the first night in a long time I haven't woken up from a nightmare.”

“Oh Jay, you don't need to thank me for that. I'm more than happy to be with you.”

You hop off the counter and take the spatula out of his hand. You place your hands on either side of his face and pull him in for a gentle kiss.

“I really like you.” He whispers against your lips.

“I really like you too Jay.” You whisper back, smiles blooming on both your faces.