#justified inspired au

[kanerallels]

Galen and Saville modern au!

This was actually INCREDIBLY fun to write and also INCREDIBLY LONG so here you go! And here it is on AO3

(tw for a little gore/mentions of death)

@lucilliantpearl @magpie-trove I really really hope you guys don't mind if I tag you guys-- since you're the only people I know who love Valiant, I figured why not? Feel free to ignore this, though!

Galen Verras had worked a lot of strange cases in his time working as a US Marshall. Mysterious deaths and kidnappings and every kind of horror imaginable. 

But this one was particularly confusing to his superior officers. The gang that had been tormenting the city of Reggen for the past few months— known, rather unoriginally, as the Giants, thanks to the massive size of most of their recruits— had held up another store. Every time this had happened previously, there had been a shooting and at least one death, if not more. Galen had lost count of the amount of crime scenes he’d arrived at to find a dead body and the same symbol carved into the victim’s skin— a crown made of bones.

But this time was different. Galen had reviewed the security footage a hundred times, and it hadn’t made any more sense any of the times. Even now, as he replayed in his head while he drove, it confused him.

The shop itself had been small, and the security cameras hadn’t worked. So the only footage they had was from a camera outside. Over and over, Galen had watched the same thing— the two recruits, both carrying weapons, went inside. Through the windows, a struggle could barely be made out, until another person entered the shop.

Not ten minutes later, the customers inside came streaming out, along with the boy who’d been hurt in the struggle. Paramedics had arrived on the scene, as had Galen himself about half an hour later. There was no sign of the two recruits, no injuries other than the boy, and no money missing from the shop.

All the witnesses gave their statements, and they all led one way— the young woman who’d come into the shop. According to the witnesses, she had distracted them from their target, scaring off the recruits somehow.

Galen had seen this gang operate before. Some girl was not likely to scare them off.

So what exactly had happened?

This was what he was on his way to find out, taking his slightly shabby car into the clothing district in Reggen to find one Saville Gramton, who was supposed to be the young woman who’d scared off the gang members. Supposedly, she lived with her father above his sewing shop.

He spotted the sign saying “Tailor”, hanging proudly from the storefront, and pulled off to the side of the road to park. As he got out of the car, he took a moment to prepare himself, mentally. If this woman really had somehow terrified two gang members, then Galen needed to be ready. Either way, there was some piece of the puzzle he was missing. The only question was what it was.

Crossing the street, he moved to the small door and knocked. It was a long minute before the door swung open.

“We’re clos—”

The woman who answered it froze, her eyes locking onto Galen’s for just a moment. I know her, he realized. Somehow, I know her. But the memory refused to emerge from the depths of his brain, and he decided to keep moving despite it.

“Miss Gramton? I’m Federal Marshal Galen Verras,” he told her calmly, tapping a hand against the badge clipped to his belt. Her gaze flicked to it, then narrowed very slightly.

He’d seen that look before, on a hundred different witnesses or criminals who were preparing to lie, to protect themselves in whatever way necessary— and he meant whatever.

Generally speaking, those witnesses weren’t girls who probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, though. Saying the woman was slight was an understatement, and Galen had to wonder for the thousandth time how she’d managed to fight off two members of the most vicious gang in the city.

“Can I help you?” she said warily.

“Hopefully, yes,” Galen told her. “I’m here about a robbery that happened a few streets down from her, in Tomas Mardon’s bakery. Do you know it?”

“A little,” she said vaguely. “I go there every now and then.”

Lie. An interview with Tomas had confirmed that Miss Gramton was a frequent visitor, although Galen had gotten the feeling the man wasn’t telling them everything, either. “I see,” he said. “And were you there yesterday afternoon, around three?”

She hesitated, and Galen could see the debate going on in her eyes. He found himself wondering what he would do, too. Would he let the lie keep going, or would he push harder?

“Sir? Who’s at the door?”

Miss Gramton’s eyes widened as a boy hobbled around the corner, using a crutch to hold himself upright. Galen knew this boy, and he even knew where from. Flipping through his memory, he said, “Will, right? It’s Marshal Verras, from the bakery yesterday. I was there after you were hurt.”

The boy paused, glancing at Miss Gramton, and Galen did the same. Her eyes said she was trapped, and they both knew it. Calmly, Galen said, “Why don’t you let me in, and we’ll talk about this?”

Letting out a sigh, she nodded. “Fine.”

Stepping back, Miss Gramton led the way into the shop— which was small, but the tables covered in fabric and a box containing thread, needles, and shears spoke of enough customers to live comfortably enough— and into a back room that held a table and a few chairs. There was a small stove in the corner, near a small refrigerator and a few cupboards.

Miss Gramton took her seat, nodding for Galen to do the same. Will sat next to her, looking back and forth between them like he was waiting for his companion to lunge for Galen’s throat. Which, judging by her glare, wasn’t entirely possible.

There was a short silence, and Galen took the opportunity to study Saville Gramton. She was small, but had a steely sort of strength about her, although that could have just been her scowl. Her short-cropped hair was fair, her jaw square, and her eyes a blue-gray that held Galen’s defiantly.

There was something distinctly captivating about them, too, as she studied him right back, but that was hardly relevant at the time.

Folding his hands on top of the table, he said, “It was you at the bakery yesterday, then? Wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

Galen frowned. “And yet, you chose not to remain with the witnesses. You ran off, instead of staying to be interviewed. Technically, I could charge you with obstruction of justice.”

“Are you going to?”

Not a hint of fear in her voice, although Galen knew she had to be concerned. He couldn’t help but admire it, even though he knew it would make things harder. Letting out a sigh, he said, “I would like it if I didn’t have to. But for that to happen, I need your side of the story.” His gaze flicking to Will, he added, “And more of an explanation here as to what exactly is going on here. But let’s start with the robbery, and what happened to those gang members. Did you kill them?”

Miss Gramton’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out an incredulous laugh. “You think I killed two gang members twice my size?”

Galen couldn’t hold back the slightest twitch of a smile. “Not exactly, but it couldn’t be ruled out.”

He was fairly certain rolling one’s eyes at a Federal Marshal was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop her. “I didn’t kill them. They left. Not dead, gone. I needed to chase them off, so I did. That’s all.”

And there was something so familiar about that intonation that Galen was absolutely positive that he knew her. He knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. He was about to ask if he knew her when Will piped up.

“Are you going to arrest Sir?”

Galen blinked, confused. “Who?”

Nodding at Miss Gramton, Will said, “That’s what I call her. So… are you?”

“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to,” Galen said steadily. “But first I’m going to need to ask her some questions. That should help the situation.” He turned his gaze to Miss Gramton. “So. What can you tell me? Start from the beginning, if you can.”

After a brief hesitation, she started speaking. Galen listened intently as she told him how her father had suffered a terrible injury, and was currently in the hospital on life support. How she’d been forced to keep the family business going on her own, keeping up the pretense that it was her father doing the work so she could keep the customers he’d garnered with his reputation, and find a few of her own with her work.

She hadn’t meant to throw things into such disarray by picking a fight with the gang. All Saville had been trying to do was protect Will. And in doing so, she’d tricked two men working for the most dangerous man in the city. 

It didn’t take a genius to guess how he’d respond to this. The Duke— the leader of the gang— would be offended, at best. At worst, he would be out for blood. The best thing to do would be to take both Will and Miss Gramton into protective custody, Galen knew. 

But there was the complication of Will’s legal situation— he was in a group home, Saville had told him, and came here to get away from time to time— and the fact that Galen wasn’t sure he could trust everyone around him. With Cinnan being put on administrative leave indefinitely, and Leymonn in his place, he didn’t have anyone to consult about the legality of the situation, and he wasn’t sure Leymonn wouldn’t use it against him somehow.

He was alone. Sure, he had allies, but Galen missed the days when he had someone with him who he trusted to watch his back, who helped him be better and work better.

It had been a long time since those days. Long enough that Galen was used to being on his own. But that didn’t mean he liked it.

“What’s going to happen next?”

Miss Gramton’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced at her. She was still wearing that fierce expression, like she was ready to do battle. But even she couldn’t take on an entire gang on her own.

“You’ve upset some powerful people, Miss Gramton,” he told her. “So I’d like to put both you and Will in protective custody. I have… a friend you can stay with.” Lissa wouldn’t like it, and Eldin would be Eldin about it. But they were the closest thing to people he could trust that he had left. 

“I can’t just leave,” she protested. “This is my life. And if I leave, I won’t be able to pay our debts. The landlord—”

“I’ll handle your landlord,” Galen said firmly. “For now, we get you to safety. Both of you. Then we handle the next steps.”

She didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes distrustful and worried. “I know you don’t trust me,�� Galen told her. For whatever reason, it felt right to be honest with her, like her blue-gray eyes would see through whatever comforting lies he offered her. “And I can’t blame you. But I can promise to do everything in my power to keep you two safe, and to bring the men who hurt Will to justice.”

The last part settled it. He could see it in her face, in the resolved set of her jaw. “Alright,” she said. “Tell me what we need to do.”

Galen nodded, mentally gathering himself for the battle with Leymonn and his other superiors ahead. It would be hard— it always was— but the glance he took at Saville gave him a strange sense of comfort. Her glare was battle-ready, and he realized he might have another ally in this fight after all.

She couldn’t do much, he knew. But it was comforting all the same.

[triglycercule]

oh yeah before i forget cute mttpoly headcanon because i said so: when killer finds out (through SOME way of means. he has his ways) that dust and horror like something then at every chance he can he goes and finds that thing for them :3 because I SAID SO AND IT'S CUTE ‼️‼️ (something something killer has no idea how to properly show affection and appreciation after believing his whole life was meant to cause pain and suffering to those close to him and now that he's trying he does silly goofy stuff like this hehe,,,,,,, dust is DROWNING in piles of fluffy blankets and books. horror cannot keep up with eating the amount of snacks killer keeps stealing for him 😞😞😞)

[wearethewinx]

Melody is extremely iron-rich and (historically) volcanically active, which means it also has an OUTRAGEOUSLY strong magnetic field. The planet is famous throughout the magic dimension for its beauty, resources, and strangeness.

Huge mountain ranges follow the planets latitudes, cut through with rivers and floating islands. Auroras are so intense, huge, and frequent that they are the primary power source near the planets poles. A skinny ring of iron circles the planet, and it brilliantly reflects light.

At the south pole there is an especially huge floating island, dish-shaped, suspended over the sea. Small bits of iron are frequently ejected from the edges of the island, and depending on the size and conditions, they might become incredibly dangerous slag missiles, OR natural fireworks as they liquify in the atmosphere! The lost mass is replaced by material being pushed up from the sea underneath, but not all of that material makes it to the island- much of it finds stasis underneath, suspended delicately in the air or water.

The magnetic field in this sea is so intense that it causes hallucinations, particularly flashes of light. Because the safe outskirts of the island have frequent auroras and fireworks, this is an especially dangerous illusion that can lead sailors deeper into the field. The floating debris is in tenuous balance, so bumping into it can cause it to accelerate and run into other debris- again, extremely dangerous.

Melodites are more resilient to electromagnetism than any other ethnicity in the magic dimension, but even they avoid the center under the island. Offworld visitors are strictly forbidden from navigating the sea for their own safety- even as passengers, they pose a risk to themselves and the crew. High-profile research expeditions are the only exception.

These conditions mean Melody is famous for its architecture, which boasts some of the most outstanding masonry and carpentry in the known realms, and for its fireworks

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Valicer Severance AU Time, Part II!

Welcome back -- I hope you're all rested and refreshed! Let's dive right into the second half of my Valicer Severance AU --

-->Eventually, after the Innies have all been there about a year, Victor decides that Smiler would be a much better Team Lead than him and politely asks Miss Glados about surrendering the position. Miss Glados has him submit a formal request to his Outie -- but the person who actually sees the request is Nell. Who is so annoyed by Innie!Victor daring to try and "demote" himself that she sends back a video blasting him and informing him that he is not a person and that he'll do what he's told until such time that they shut him off. Victor is very upset by this, as you might imagine --

So upset, in fact, that when he goes to leave for the day, he actually considers hanging himself in the elevator just to go out on his own terms (and stick it to both his Outie and the horrible woman supposedly speaking on his behalf). He gets as far as bringing a trash can into the elevator with him to use as a stool -- but before he can go any further, he spots a trio of blank Post-It notes Smiler stuck up on the wall earlier just to be silly in blue, yellow, and red. He takes them down, looks at them a moment -- and then bursts out crying as he realizes that he can't strand the people he loves on the severed floor without him --

-->And then he switches, and Outie!Victor is like "...why am I holding blank Post-It notes? Why is there a trash can in here with me?? Wait, was I crying???" He gets so distracted by this last question that he absently shoves the Post-Its in his pocket when he leaves...

-->Cue Caroline wondering if those Post-Its were some sort of attempt by the Innies at communicating with the outside world and heading to the Van Dort mansion to question Outie!Victor about them. He is like "they're just Post-It notes, I don't know why they were in there," so Caroline activates something called the "overtime contingency" --

And Innie!Victor suddenly finds himself in a strange new place (the study his Outie was practicing piano in) with "Miss Glados." He is naturally quite startled. XD Miss Glados grills him about the Post-Its as well, and he truthfully tells her that they weren't a secret message, just Smiler having some fun, and that they helped convince him that he didn't want to quit. He then realizes "wait a minute, am I at home?!" --

And Caroline quickly cuts off the overtime contingency, thanks Outie!Victor for his time, and flounces off. Outie!Victor is very confused by the whole thing, especially the realization that they can activate his Innie outside the severed floor --

-->And Innie!Victor is utterly rocked by that same revelation. He drags Alice, Smiler, and Wheatley into the storage closet the next day to tell them about what happened (and to apologize for being a mood the previous day and for possibly getting Smiler in trouble by telling Miss Glados where the Post-It notes came from). They are just as shocked as he is that there is technically a way for the Innies to go outside, but aren't sure how to use it to their advantage. Wheatley says he'll see what he can do later, and they go to work, a little wound up and wondering what's going to happen now --

-->And then Miss Glados sends them all home a half-hour early, as Aperture is hosting a gala this evening that she needs to prepare for (and that their Outies need to prepare for, as it's to celebrate a year of severed work and they're all going to be in attendance, but she doesn't mention that bit). After they're gone, Wheatley asks if he can attend the party, because after all he is a supervisor --

And Miss Glados not only tells him no, she rudely mocks him for being the stupidest core she's ever met, saying that his purpose should have been "intelligence dampening" and that his supervisor position means nothing. And then twists the knife by saying she plans to eat a whole PLATE of waffles at the party. A furious Wheatley says he doesn't care, he'll be doing Important Supervisor Things while he's down here -- like organizing the Post-It notes! Counting the pencils! Making sure the computers are all turned off --

And, the minute she rolls her eyes and leaves -- "Figuring out that overtime contingency!" [zooms off]

-->Cut to the gala, where the Outie versions of the trio are not exactly enjoying themselves -- Alice is stuck between two armed guards, watching her for escape attempts; Smiler is stuck with Miles Cedars, watching them for escape attempts; and Victor is stuck with his parents, who inform him that he's expected to give a speech on how awesome severance is to everyone. Victor, who is NOT a public speaker, flees to the bathroom to try and calm himself down, pausing just long enough to ask their driver, Mayhew, if he can get his sketchbook for him so he can look at the pictures to see if that will help --

-->And then. While Victor's splashing his face with cold water, Alice is wondering when she gets to go back to her nice quiet prison cell, and Smiler is debating whether they try to let anyone know what's going on with them (and coming to the conclusion no one at APERTURE would care, especially not with Dr. Kelman in the room with them), Wheatley manages to access the computer that controls the overtime contingency, "hacks" a few options that he doesn't need, then declares "Enjoy your vacation!" as he activates the OC -- and suddenly the INNIES are the ones at the party

-->Innie!Victor, naturally, is like "...why is my face wet?" He quickly realizes what's happening, though, and goes exploring -- only to nearly bolt in a panic when he discovers the incredibly busy party outside the bathroom door. Mayhew catches him first though, and hands over his sketchbook, and Innie!Victor is unable to resist the urge to look through his Outie self's artwork. Most of it is sketches of butterflies, along with a couple of sketches of Victoria and Emily (the last one unfinished :( ) -- but near the end, Victor finds a sketch of a meadow -- stretching out from behind a very familiar vending machine surrounded by pieces of paper ("!!! You do remember some things from being me!"). Unfortunately, his journey through his sketchbook is then cut short by him meeting William and Nell --

And realizing "that asshole on the label of the tuna fish sandwiches" and "that bitch who told me I wasn't a person" are his parents. He is not pleased by this, as you might guess -- and even less pleased to learn that William is planning on introducing severance for his own employees at his flagship fish canning plant. He's also "reminded" of his upcoming speech -- but before he can do anything about that, he spots a slideshow being set up with biographies for everyone to read on himself, Alice, and Smiler. He goes to read the information being projected on the big screen (saying "it'll probably help me with my speech") and learns his own tragic backstory first -- and then the slide flips to Alice and reveals that she's in prison for murder --

-->Cut to Innie!Alice, being like "I -- I was joking?! About that?!" Fortunately her guards are used to her acting weird, and take her shock over this (and her general sudden "holy shit this is a lot of people") in stride. Innie!Alice doesn't think her day can get any more bizarre after that --

-->And then the slide flips to Smiler, and cut to Innie!Smiler mentally going "KELMAN'S MY FATHER?!" They read the slide in stunned horror, unable to believe that they would willingly sign up for this --

And then reassess their situation -- namely, this weird nervously-smiling guy keeping a VERY close eye on them and telling them things like, "Just go ahead and ask for the haircut; Kelman will loosen the leash a little then, I promise!" and realizes that maybe their Outie didn't sign up willingly for this. D: They're not sure exactly what they can do about it, though --

-->And then Victor is called upon to make his speech. And after some badgering from Nell about how he has to make a good impression and how she won't tolerate him making an utter fool out of himself again, he strides up to the podium (still carrying his sketchbook in its shoulder bag that Mayhew also brought), calls his fellow severed employees up to the stage (who are allowed to go up, because they wouldn't cause a scene up THERE, would they?) --

And proceeds to tell the entire crowd that being a severed employee is HELL. Smiler and Alice are absolutely delighted to discover that they're all in Innie form and back him up as he talks about how horrific it is to be stuck at work constantly and how they're psychologically tortured and all of that. Nell attempts to get Victor to shut up, but he turns on her, calling her a bitch and letting her know that he is a person, damn it, causing her to realize that it's the Innie version of Victor that's currently in control --

-->And causing Caroline to realize that too and make a guess at what's happened. She tells the security team to get things under control as she sprints to the severed floor to shut down the overtime contingency --

-->But the Innies are not going down without a fight. Literally -- Alice nails one security guard in the crotch as he tries to take them down, and when Kelman comes for Smiler, they punch him and tell him, "You may have taken everything else from me, but you didn't get my fucking pronouns!" The guards eventually resort to activating the turrets in the ceiling (because of course this version of Aperture has that), and the Innie trio flees before they can be shot. There's a brief scramble through the halls as they search desperately for an exit (very annoyed to discover that they're still in the Aperture building as they do) --

-->And then they come across their elevator, guarded by Rick, and realize that Wheatley's still downstairs -- and they can't just leave him there. So they get Rick's security keycard off him, and Alice uses it to activate the elevator so they can get down and grab their friend (snapping it off inside the reader to buy themselves more time). However, as they head down, Smiler has a thought -- "Wait a minute -- the elevator is what turns our chips on and off normally, right? So what happens when we're already activa--"

-->Aaaand cue the elevator sensors overriding the overtime contingency, and the Outie versions of Victor, Alice, and Smiler suddenly finding themselves crammed into an elevator together. As you might imagine, they are very confused. XD Victor, due to his experience with the overtime contingency the previous night, is the first one to realize that the Innies might have been activated at the party, which deeply annoys Alice and Smiler -- mostly because they believe their Innies are cheery corporate drones who live to work. They all assume that the Innies just tried to go back to the office when they were activated, and realize that this is a great opportunity for them to actually see where they work...

-->And cue the Outies discovering the severed floor and all its weirdness! After being confused by their office ("why is it so big if all the cubicles are in the middle of the floor?") and what it is they do for a living (Smiler: "...we sort numbers based on vibes?" Alice: "Maybe they told us the work was mysterious and important."), they check out the kitchenette --

And cue Victor seeing the vending machine and being "!!!" He shows Alice and Smiler the picture he drew of it and the meadow, and says that he just thought his art was getting more surreal as a weird side effect of the chip, flipping to the next page to show them another example --

Cue Alice going "Cheshire?!" as she sees his rendition of her version of the Cheshire Cat (which, naturally, Innie!Alice told Innie!Victor about). And then the next page is Victor's take on Smiler's swirly-eyed smiley face, which he says just -- makes him feel better when he looks at it for unknown reasons. Smiler goes "I guess we're friends down here?" which both Alice and Victor admit they did not expect --

-->And then they hear a noise, and realize that if they're caught down here, they might be in trouble. They quickly try to find somewhere to hide, and after an abortive attempt to go into the Break Room (which ends with all of them frozen in nameless terror outside it -- and holding hands, which really throws them), they find their way into the surprisingly-empty security office. After noting that it looks like Aperture likes to just make people THINK they're being watched constantly, they start poking around out of curiosity --

And find various "incident" videos. Specifically, Innie!Alice trying to break out with the fire extinguisher; Innie!Victor threatening his fingers with the paper cutter (and revealing in the process he has no idea what his own last name is); and Innie!Smiler ripping the cubicle wall. Cue the trio realizing in horror that their Innies aren't drones, they're prisoners (with Victor in particular being extra horrified because he's the one who had the most choice in the matter about doing this to himself). It's generally agreed that they cannot keep working here, but they also don't know what to do about their Innies --

-->And then Rick the security core finds them and zooms off to sound the alarm. Smiler hastily downloads a bunch of videos onto a USB stick (as proof the Innies are being tortured), and they start looking for a way out, which brings them into the Johnson Memorial Wing. (Alice: [upon seeing the giant head] Are we in a cult?? Smiler: I'm not ruling out the possibility.) They start looking around, trying to find at least a spot to hide --

-->And then a glowing green rectangular portal appears on a nearby wall -- and out pops one Chell! Who is as surprised to see them as they are to see her, frankly. Before either side can figure out what's going on, though, someone comes stomping into the wing -- Caroline, carrying Wheatley and making various threats against his person while he needles her right back with lame insults. She is naturally very surprised to see the trio there, and starts talking to them like they're the Innies --

And then Victor calls her "Ms. McLain??" and she realizes the OUTIES are in control and have probably seen too much. And holy shit, is that CHELL?! Wheatley is like "you know this weird lady?" which makes Chell realize that he's forgotten her --

-->And inspires Caroline to try mind-wiping the trio and Chell, because that IS one of the options built into the programming of the severance chip. There is a moment of horror as she tells the computer systems to activate the "Clean Slate" feature of the chips --

And then the announcer cheerfully informs her that her request cannot be completed because everything is filled with garbage code. Wheatley crows that he "hacked it all" and follows up with "how do you like them waffles?!" Causing Caroline to get so mad --

-->She attempts to smash him on the floor. Which, as you might imagine, infuriates Chell. She scoops up her friend (now babbling with a cracked optic) and books it through the green portal nearby, indicating for the Outie trio to follow her --

And it's at this point you may be going, "what do you mean, green portal? The portals in the Portal series are orange and blue, at least in the single-player campaign." And that's true -- but Chell's not using her own portal gun; she had to leave that behind during her escape (threw it at a pursuer, in fact). Instead, Chell is using the portal gun from the one Portal fangame I've played -- Portal Reloaded. Which has a three-portal device, including a green portal --

That sends you through time. Twenty years ahead, specifically. Chell thus leads everyone into a wrecked version of the Memorial Wing that happens to have a hole open to the sky in its ceiling, with a good view of the moon. And when Caroline attempts to grab Wheatley away from Chell, going on about how she's going to make sure that she's put back on the testing track no matter what, Chell shoots one orange portal at the ground --

-->And one blue portal at the Moon. Cue a portal opening up into fucking space, and the Outie trio having to hold on for dear life as everything starts getting sucked through -- including Caroline, still hanging onto Wheatley (who, naturally, is pretty terrified). She begs Chell to pull her back through --

And Chell answers her pleas with a boot to the face. Cue Caroline sailing off into low moon orbit, and Chell dragging Wheatley back through before closing the Moon portal. Everyone is naturally a little, uh, stunned by all this --

-->But there's no time to sit and process, as the alarms are starting to go off in the present Aperture facility through the time portal! Chell quickly uses some regular portals to climb the sides of the walls, then provide a path up top for the Outies, where they find a random portal-able wall section just -- lying on the ground. Chell uses a time portal on this to bring everyone back to the present --

-->Where they find the wall chunk being watched over by a mystery woman with curly brown hair, who is like "Chell, what happened -- wait, is that Victor Van Dort, Alice Liddell, AND Mamaduke Kelman?!" Before any explanations can start, though, a short teenage boy in a leather jacket and fedora comes tearing around the corner, chased by a bunch of Aperture security guards --

-->And cue chase sequence #2, as the Outies find themselves running with these weirdos in a desperate attempt not to be recaptured and maybe have their memories wiped. An attempt that is briefly put off-track by Wheatley, recovering from his shock/smashing and actually getting kind of excited about being able to talk to the "other" versions of his friends/employees, doing this:

Wheatley: It's so cool to be able to meet you! We always wondered what you were like! Hey, do you guys like yellow, red, and blue too? Do you not trust pudding either? Alice: I don't think this is the correct time to be having this conversation-- Wheatley: Do you guys kiss as much up here as you do downstairs? Alice: [spins around so fast she falls over and lands on her butt] Smiler: [also whirls around, just barely managing to keep their feet] Victor: [whips his head around in shock and promptly runs headlong into a tree]

Yeah, uh, that's a surprise to the Outies. XD But again, no time to process, as not long after that a big white van pulls up and the back pops open, with a man with a shock of white hair and a redheaded woman with a ponytail urging them to "get in!" The woman, teen, and Chell all clamber in immediately, but the Outies pause for a moment, considering the fact that they'll be getting into a weird van with complete strangers --

And then considering the fact that their other option is continuing to work for Aperture and either knowing their Innies are in trouble or having their brains wiped and getting into the van. XD One security guard (Human Rick, in fact) manages to catch up to them as they're getting in, but Alice slugs him and announces "We QUIT" before slamming the back doors and telling the driver to hit the gas.

-->And so the great escape from Aperture is a success! The Outie trio take a moment to catch their breaths (and find themselves holding hands again, which -- makes slightly more sense in light of the "kissing" thing Wheatley mentioned), and the residents of the van introduce themselves -- in addition to Chell, we have Clara Clayton (the woman from before), her husband Dr. Emmett "Doc" Brown (the guy with the white hair), his assistant/best friend Marty McFly (the teenager in the jacket), his girlfriend Jennifer Parker (in the driver's seat), and Ellen "El" Brinkman, former Aperture Test Subject 4509 (the redhead). Their whole deal is that they're an Anti-Aperture group, with Doc being a former scientist working for them (in fact, he helped create the three-portal device's Time Portal tech) until he discovered just how unethical they were and left. He's teamed up with his old colleague and fellow escapee Doug Rattmann to help take the company down. Chell found them while trying to figure out how to deactivate her severance chip, and they were at the party for two reasons: one, to help Chell rescue Wheatley; and two, to see if they could somehow get Alice away from the police and convince her to let them take her and work on reintegrating her (figuring she'd be the safest one to take and the easiest one to convince, given she's in JAIL and all). Alice is like "well, now you have all three of us, and I think we're all agreed that we don't want to be severed anymore" (Victor and Smiler: [LOTS of nodding]). Marty also recorded Victor's speech and shares it with them when requested -- Victor is horrified that his Innie self called his mother a bitch, while Smiler is thrilled their Innie self punched Kelman. XD

-->With that sorted, Clara and El take Wheatley to go through his internal systems and wipe anything that Aperture can use to track him, while Doc explains to the Outie trio that they'll be doing a similar procedure with their severance chips -- but, since they only expected to have ONE severed employee, they will have to do it one at a time. The Outie trio discuss what they'd like to ask each Innie self as the machine is set up --

And then El finds a video file marked "First Date" in Wheatley's systems and asks "the fuck?" -- and it's revealed that, rather than just deleting the footage of the "picnic," Wheatley saved a copy because "come on, it's cute!" He shares it with them at their request, and the Outie trio find themselves weirdly touched by the whole thing (even as they find it hard to parse kissing these strangers next to them). El ALSO finds some files in Wheatley's memory banks that weren't properly deleted, just hidden, and restores them at Wheatley's go-ahead -- and it turns out that they're his memories of Chell! He is absolutely thrilled that she came back for him, and they have a lovely reunion. :) Made a little more amusing by Chell showing off that she's partially-reintegrated and able to switch between her Innie and Outie at will, moving to Outie mode so she can verbally apologize for not catching him and causing Wheatley to go "?!" over the fact she actually CAN talk. XD

-->And then it's time for all of the Valicer Innies to get activated individually! Victor goes first ("team lead and all"), then Alice, then Smiler. The Innies are naturally very confused as to what's happening, and also rather suspicious of the other two's Outie selves, as they only know that their own Outie situations are bullshit. Fortunately all the Outies are able to convince all the Innies that they're allies, and promise them once they're in a safer place, off the road, they'll make sure that they're all activated together so they can be sure they're all safe.

-->And indeed, after the van awakenings, the next time the Innies are activated, they all wake up together in a hotel room where they're staying with the Anti-Aperture group. They have a big hug-and-kiss session, then remeet Marty and the others -- Marty assures them they're safe, then shows them a video the Outies recorded, where they apologize again for not realizing the situation the Innies are in, and insist they want to make things right, saying that they're willing to give the Innies at least the eight hours a day they would have gotten normally at work while they work on the reintegration thing and asking them what they want to do now that they're out. The Innies are mainly like "we want to know what a shower is like" and "I want to eat anything that's not a tuna fish sandwich" --

And then, partway through, Wheatley asks why there's cloth on the walls, and Chell says they're curtains -- leading the Innies to realize holy fuck, they're in an above-ground room with actual windows. And, even more importantly, a door. They ask if they can go outside, and the others say yeah, with Marty warning them "it's just a parking lot, nothing special." The trio don't care and head out --

And cue them all crying as they see the night sky for the first time and realize that they are indeed out. :)

-->And THAT is where the AU currently peters off a bit -- which I'm sure you're all thrilled by, because holy hell I don't think it's ever taken me this long to sum up an AU. XD But I do have a few ideas of where it goes from there, namely --

A) The Outies give the Innies a "sleepover" of sorts while on the road -- basically a pizza party (with all their favorite pizzas) followed by being allowed to sleep for the first time. The latter experience is somewhat marred by the Innies having nightmares, but gets better once they all curl up together in the same bed

B) Relatedly, once they get to Doug's isolated cabin, the Innies get a proper picnic in the woods nearby, to their delight

C) There's a scene where Smiler and Alice are playing ping-pong at the cabin, bantering over Alice kicking Smiler's ass while Victor watches, amused; Marty shows up and goes, "Hey, I didn't know you guys were awake yet, I thought we were switching you over later" --

Cue puzzled staring, and Marty realizing, "You're still the OUTIES, uh, I have something to do over here." XD Alice immediately goes "probably says a lot about us that seeing us happy makes people think we're the Innies, huh."

D) Of course the Outies also get together in the end -- once they've actually gotten to know each other and recover some from their various traumas, of course. But there's a moment during their time in the cabin where Outie!Alice goes "you know what, my Innie has the right idea" and locks lips with a surprised Victor, who then kisses Smiler, and -- yeah, eventually a video revealing they're together too now is recorded for the Innies, who are thrilled for their Outies (and glad that they can stop feeling awkward about the fact that THEY'RE in a relationship when their Outies were not, despite the Outies saying "it's fine, you can keep kissing, just -- no sex, okay? That has the potential for more permanent consequences")

E) The Outie trio eventually decides that they don't want to pursue full reintegration because, well, they've gotten to know their Innies through video messages back and forth (and probably at least a few instances of only one or two Innies being awake at a time), and at this point, trying to become one singular personality again feels a bit like killing the Innies. They instead settle, like Chell, for getting to the stage where they can switch at will (without needing outside help), have at least some access to both sets of memories, and whoever isn't running the body retains some awareness of what's happening

F) I feel like going back to Aperture and reawakening the original GLaDOS has to happen at some point, in an attempt to maybe get her help in making sure the place gets shut down permanently and getting out any remaining severed employees. GLaDOS is a lot more keen on just gassing the place, but while trying to convince her not to do that (and not kill them as well), Wheatley, trying to hack something, accidentally sets off the self-destruct for the facility. And GLaDOS is like "you know what, that works for me -- I'll mess with the timer to make sure I have enough time to upload myself to a separate location, and you've got however long that takes to get anyone you want out, out." So there's a mad scramble to rescue any remaining severed employees, and at the end, once they're all out, the building just goes BLOOIE -- explaining why it's an abandoned wreck twenty years in the future!

And THAT is, finally, that. *whew* Thanks for sticking with me through all of that! I genuinely had no idea that putting all my ideas together regarding this AU would lead to such long posts. Hopefully you found them enjoyable, at least! Feel free to ask me questions because even after all this, I still had to cut stuff and would NOT mind talking about it!

[itz-pandora]

The last ask actually gave me a question-

Why does Eggman kidnap Tails? To get under Sonics skin? Or to use him for something?

Mostly to get under Sonic's skin

Sonic has been breaking Eggman's robots left and right, so he figured he'd get back at him by taking his little friend.

[antebunny]

Only Children

Barbara has been the last Bat in Gotham for two weeks when her surveillance finds Jason. It is a long-forgotten but somehow still operating security camera in a grainy corner of Gotham that tips her off. Settling in for another long day in, ironically, the Jason Wayne Gotham Public Library, founded almost ten years ago, Barbara immediately receives a notification that one of her searches found a match.

Usually she keeps her day work separate from her night work, for both security and personal mental health reasons. Lately she’s been slipping. For the past two weeks, her mind has slowly been consumed by a burning call to find them find them find them bring them home.

“Please be real,” Barbara says to anyone, any higher power listening. Her laptop itches in her lap as she abandons her desk in the library and heads to a back room, where she can conducts her investigations with more secrecy. 

The stale air of the back room greets her with a swirl of dust as the door slams shut behind her. Barbara wheels herself to the low desk and boots up the desktop. If this notification is a trap from someone who knows or suspects her identity, she wants her personal laptop safe. From the desktop, she opens the surveillance footage that tipped off one of her automatic searches. 

Last night, 4:34 am. West Murray Road. A southbound van (white, no license plate) pulls to the curb. People dressed in all-black clothing spill out of the east-facing doors. There are no distinct features amongst any of them, save for one. He is wearing a white workout shirt, stained deep brownish red in too many places to count, and ripped jeans. The footage is incredibly blurry and grainy due to the time of night and the quality of the camera, but the man’s arms are behind his back in an awkward position which indicates that they are being forcibly kept there. Two of the people wearing black press close to his sides, adding credence to this theory. 

Over his head is a black bag. 

Barbara isn’t one for fits of emotion, but the past few months are driving her to extremes. She pauses the video. Breathes in. “Please be real,” she repeats. “Please.”

A mantra that reveals her worst fears: if she’s hoping that this kidnapped, endangered individual is one of the Bats, what’s the worst-case scenario? 

4:35 am. The hooded man suddenly drops to the ground and rolls backward. His arms flash to the sky. They contort out of something bright and silver. Dislocated joint, Barbara thinks while the horrible, fearful hope mounts. His hands slide around his neck until they find something. A moment later, the bag is off his head. His feet are carrying him backwards. 

But the people in black are coming. And the man’s blind, backwards flight has carried him into a brick wall on the opposite side of West Murray Road. His head scans the street. His eyes find the camera, which the people in black missed, and for one dreadful moment Barbara’s surveillance footage has a perfect 480p view of his face. This is the moment that flagged the searches currently running on every camera that Barbara has access to. 

Jason’s mouth makes the very distinct shape of the letter O. The people in black pile on him like wolves on a wounded deer. He goes down fighting. 

4:54 am. The people wearing black drag him across the street and disappear into a building on the east side. 

“Oh God. Oh my God.” Barbara pauses the footage and allows herself twenty-three seconds of resting her face in her hands and just breathing. Then she gets to work. 

The basic problem is as follows: Barbara has no idea who has Jason. 

The building on West Murray Road is an abandoned liquor store; Barbara can find no sign of legal use since 2019. She can, however, find a long history of mysterious white vans dropping off mysterious customers at that very spot, for at least a year. Clearly, it’s an organized crime group that has Jason. But most Rouges of Gotham are leaders of organized crime groups, including Jason. Red Hood’s band of merry men are slowly falling apart with the sudden disappearance of their leader, but that’s the least of Barbara’s worries. Hell, even the Bats fall under the category of “organized crime.” 

The underlying problem is that Barbara has absolutely no support. She is the last Bat left in Gotham since Jason disappeared. Before that, it was Barbara, Steph and Jason. Steph disappeared on an ill-fated solo rescue mission to save Cass. Right now the best Barbara can hope for is that she’s still alive. 

If Barbara runs a rescue operation now, it’ll be blind, alone and chair-bound. If she fails, she will be exposing the last remaining hidden member of Gotham’s Bats–Oracle–to the criminal world. To date no one has come looking for Oracle, which means none of the Bats have given her up. 

She doesn’t know who has Jason, what state Jason is in, or what obstacles she can expect to face. These are the exact reasons why she and Jason told Steph not to rescue Cass just yet. Now the situation is even worse: Barbara is the last one left free, the last one still in Gotham. 

But what other choice does Barbara have? 

--

Izzy stumbles upon the package on a dismal Sunday afternoon. It’s a black box large enough to hold a pair of shoes, resting in a suspiciously-colored puddle on the side of the street. The surface is shiny, and when Izzy pokes it, she can’t tell what the material is. Izzy turns the box over, ignoring the suspicious liquid running down the sides. It’s not poisonous. Probably. There’s a button built into the bottom side of the box. Immediately, Izzy is suspicious; nothing this nice sticks around the Bowery for very long. 

Against her better instincts, Izzy presses the button. She leans back as the lines appear along the sides of the box and it hisses open. Inside the box is mostly empty, save for a small pile of cash in $20 bills, and a tiny metal something.

“I have a job offer for you,” says a mechanized voice.

Izzy grabs the cash and kicks the box away. Heart pounding, she stands up, backs up, and watches in morbid fascination as the box bumps harmlessly against the curb. That’s good, right? There’s no person, just a voice and an empty box which is far enough from Izzy that she could probably run away if gas starts coming out of it or something. She turns over the wad of USD in her hand. Maybe it’s coated in a poisonous substance. Anything could happen in Gotham, and Batman hasn’t been seen in months. The villains are getting bolder and bolder. 

“It’s just cash,” says the mechanized voice. Whatever filter that voice is using makes it clear that the voice belongs to real person, but also obscures any identifying features. 

Izzy’s head jerks up from the cash. She narrows her eyes at the box. “Are you watching me?”

“Yes,” says the voice, refreshingly honestly. “It’s just upfront cash. If you take the job, there’s a lot more on the other side.”

The thing is. Just because Izzy knows better doesn’t mean that she doesn’t need money. 

“What’s the job?”

“Let’s take this inside,” requests the voice.

Izzy glances up and down the street. On one side is an abandoned dock house where Izzy spends too much of her time. On the other side are a couple of run-down buildings which may have real stores or may have fronts for less-than-legal businesses. Who’s to say. 

“What’s the job?” Izzy repeats. She approaches the box again, lying innocuously open on a cracked Gotham curb. Gingerly, she reaches into the box and picks out the tiny metal thing. When she puts it in her ear, the mechanized voice speaks up again.

“Delivery,” says the voice succinctly. It is much quieter in her ear. Izzy supposes this is one way of making sure no one is eavesdropping. 

“What’s the catch?”

“It’s dangerous,” the voice says promptly, continuing the trend of suspicious honesty. Izzy sincerely hopes that this honesty is not a cover-up for a worse truth. “Both the handling and the drop-off.”

“How much you offering?”

“Ten thousand grand.”

$10,000 just for an errand. Izzy thinks she might be sick. Surely this is too good to be true. Really, she just needs some medical bills covered. The problem is that she doesn’t yet know how much money she’ll need. If she tells this mystery person, maybe she can get all her expenses covered rather than get $10,000 in cash. On the other hand, that’ll hand her identity over to this person. Who has already admitted to watching her. Ah, screw it.

Izzy picks up the empty box. She brushes her hair in front of her shoulders, so that it covers the earpiece. “Can you cover medical bills or does it have to be in cash?” 

Familiar Gotham sewage smells follow Izzy onto the next street. She hears the very faint sound of typing from the earpiece. So there really is someone on the other end.

“I can get someone to lend a hand.” 

Izzy squeezes her eyes shut and pictures it. Every inch of stress that’s been weighing her down, every worry, down the drain, wiped away. It’s ridiculous. This is Gotham. Even it it wasn’t, it’s too good to be true. Izzy knows better than this. She had her dumb teenage years but this would be the stupidest thing she’s ever done. 

It is an unusually warm November day, but Izzy pulls her fuschia sweater in tight. “What do you need me to do?”

--

Brian doesn’t believe in second chances or coincidences. Nevertheless, he’s taking this thankless, illegal guard duty grunt work because he’s fully out of options. They say his employer doesn’t give second chances. It’s also awfully coincidental that this off-the-books guard duty has him loitering outside some run-down storefront off West Murray Road. He used to live on this street, though much further north. 

“What d’ya think we’re guardin?’” Asks Rocky, Brian’s fellow guard who named himself after the movie. 

“None of our business.” Brian throws some sort of pebble at Rocky, who only looks at him in some mixture of boredom and disgust. 

“Heard someone screamin’ last night,” Rocky continues. 

“Shut the fuck up and don’t ask questions if you wanna live,” says Brian, keenly aware of how Rocky’s voice echoes through the abandoned street. West Murray Road doesn’t get much love from Gothamites, and even less at night. The most entertainment Brian has seen all this time is two rats fighting. 

“Alright, calm your tits, I’m just bored as hell, man,” Rocky defends. “Nothing interesting ever happens–”

“Hey.”

Both Brian and Rocky jerk out of their distracted, half-asleep slouches. There’s a woman with a purple(? Pink? Red?) sweater standing right in front of the door they’re supposed to be guarding. She’s wearing a mask, but that’s pretty normal. It’s Covid-19 season, after all. They fail to look down and see the small package at her feet. Their attention instead falls to the black box in her hands. 

“I have a delivery?” The woman motions with the box in her hands. 

Rocky and Brian both jerk back, hands fumbling for weapons while they attempt to get a clearer picture in the near total darkness. 

“This some kinda joke?” Brian snaps. 

“Uh.” The woman backs up a step. Maybe Rocky took out his gun. “Listen, I–”

BANG.

A horrible, indescribable scent slams into Brian’s nose so hard it shoots all the way into his skull and rattles his brain around. Vaguely, his eyes observe the woman adjusting another mask, a gas mask, under her K95 mask as he collapses to the sidewalk. Then he blacks out. 

Barbara is moving her drones before the two guards hit the ground. 

[ebbpettier]

The neverland kisnapping AU?

anon this beast is EXTREMELY SELF-INDULGENT and i made it purely and 100% because peter pan has been a fixation of mine since i was a little sprog (specifically the 2003 version with jason isaacs as hook)

TL;DR baz and his siblings are awayed in the night by a sinister faerie creature known as peter pan, who baz finds out has been doing away with the lost boys when they get too old to play his games anymore.

(extra dangerousTM because baz discovers that not only can he be injured like a normal person here, but if you die in never-never-land you DO die in real life)

also finds out that captain hook used to be pan's right-hand playmate as a child and has been rescuing pan's castoffs to try to fight back, the guy takes baz under his wing and teaches him to swordfight. that coat is the one hook was wearing when pan maimed him, and he gave it to baz because it was the only thing he had on hand that would fit a teenager.

"Didst thou ever want to be a pirate, me hearty?"

bonus content when baz gets back to watford simon has a minor crisis about him looking all scarred up and adventurous and rugged

[brainrotcharacters]

redacted fandom hc Erik is a water sign

[mephiles-the-jester]

have you perhaps considered drawing human bill and stanford?

<— 🦈

i have now,but with the twist of it being the au im trying to figure out in my head to go with my fankids for them,,,,so,,,,,take them trying to un-divorce + regular bill design im trying to make,,,yayy

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! It's time for another Merlin au! This time featuring Uther's propaganda and a healthy dose of misunderstandings and pain! :D

This au was inspired by an idea that I pitched in a reblog of one of @tamaha's amazing posts! (Also, shoutout to my awesome mutual @achillesuwu, since you asked to be tagged when I wrote this! :) ) You can find that original reblog here!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

In canon, we know that Uther had children drowned for using magic, and that most of those children were likely warlocks who were born with their magic. However, we also know that most people in Camelot believe that magic is a choice and that it's impossible for someone to be born with it, so how did Uther justify to his people both the existence of child warlocks and the killing of children for something that they had no control over?

Well, Uther utilized his propaganda to justify killing young warlocks. He found some ancient text that hypothesized that warlocks got their powers from being reborn demons, and he used those very shoddy sources to justify his actions.

He spun stories about how warlocks looked human, but weren't human at all. He told the people that while those warlock children might have looked like regular humans, they would grow into powerful demons that would hunt down regular humans and eat their souls to gain more power.

Uther's propaganda campaign was successful, and soon, warlocks were some of the most feared magical creatures in Camelot. The people were terrified at the thought of a beast that could consume souls and blend in among them, unable to detected until it was too late.

Warlocks were a regular element of the nightmares of all of the children in Camelot, who would jump at every shadow and wonder if it was a warlock, there to devour them. Arthur was among those children, lying awake late at night, trembling with fear at the thought of any person he passed on the street being a warlock who would eat his very soul, denying him any afterlife and instead turning his soul into more magical power for the warlock.

And fast forward to some point after Arthur's become king, Merlin has a pretty painless magic reveal. Arthur and the knights were out hunting, they all get ambushed by bandits, Arthur takes a bad hit that would probably be fatal, but Merlin rushes to his side and, without hesitation, uses magic to heal Arthur's wound.

Arthur was, of course, very upset to learn that his manservant and best friend has magic, and they have a big argument over it, but no one physically attacks anyone (despite Gwaine's threats to kill Arthur and the rest of the knights and run away with Merlin).

So, everyone endures a rather tense and awkward ride back to Camelot, where Merlin is the recipient of many irate glares from Arthur and reassuring looks from the knights. When they reach Camelot, Arthur bans Merlin from his presence until he calls for Merlin again. He says that he can't stand the sight of Merlin at the moment, but Merlin will owe him a full explanation later. Merlin tearfully agrees and holes himself up in Gaius's chambers for a few days, while Arthur makes an ass of himself with his foul mood, snapping at everyone in the castle.

The knights try to point out to Arthur that while, yes, Merlin had magic and had lied to Arthur, he had only revealed it to save Arthur's life. Most of the knights used that point as a tool to comfort Arthur and ease his temper, but Gwaine used that fact to rub it in Arthur's face how terrible of a person Arthur was being towards the man who had just saved his life.

Finally, after the whole castle had to suffer through five days of Arthur's prattish and unpleasant behavior, Arthur summoned Merlin to his chambers, feeling calm enough again to actually hear whatever nonsensical reasons Merlin would give for turning to magic.

You see, what Arthur, the knights, and pretty much everyone in the castle had assumed was that Merlin had probably just picked up on some small useful enchantments and healing spells for Gaius's old study of that material. Arthur was angry at Merlin for turning to magic, but he could understand where Merlin was coming from.

Everyone knew that Merlin cared about his friends to the point of idiocy, so it made logical sense that Merlin, since he had the resources available to him, would resort to learning healing magic in case of an emergency. Arthur understood that aspect of Merlin more than anyone else.

Knowing that Merlin's magic was probably just the result of him being a loving and caring idiot did help ease the blow for Arthur, and truthfully Arthur didn't plan on punishing Merlin at all. To Arthur, hopefully confining Merlin to his chambers for a few days would discourage any future stupidity along these lines, and they could put this entire situation behind them.

So, when Arthur summoned a distressingly pale Merlin to his chambers and demanded an explanation, he expected to receive some stuttered response about learning a few spells from some of Gaius's spare books and to extract a promise out of Merlin that he'd never turn to magic again, and then everything would be fine.

However, when a wrought looking Merlin opened his mouth to explain, Arthur's heart plummeted to the floor. At the very first words of Merlin's explanation, "I was born with it," Arthur's chest went cold, and he took a few staggering steps backwards until his back hit the cold wall behind him, his eyes seeking out his blade.

Merlin was born with magic. That made Merlin a... a...

"Warlock," Arthur whispered, his eyes teary and terrified all at once.

Merlin stopped his explanation and tilted his head at Arthur, a small grin pulling on his lips. Arthur flinched back slightly at the sight of it, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the all-encompassing terror, dread, and sorrow that swirled around his mind.

"Ah, so you do know the correct word for it then! Yes, I am technically a warlock, but the distinction doesn't really matter that much anyways."

Merlin made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if his words hadn't just completely shattered Arthur's heart. Arthur couldn't even listen to the rest of Merlin's explanation through the rush of his heartbeat and breathing in his ears.

The terror gripping his heart shouted at him to fight or flee, don't just stand there waiting for him to decide that he's feeling peckish for souls!

Arthur suddenly registered the pallor of Merlin's skin and the hollowness of his cheeks and came to the awful conclusion that he doesn't have much time, Merlin's already hungry and Merlin was stepping closer there was no time to escape nonono!

Arthur closed his eyes, unable to look at what must have been Merlin unfurling whatever demonic jaws he kept hidden and preparing to eat Arthur's soul...

But the sensation of his soul being devoured, whatever that was supposed to feel like, never came. Instead, he just felt a hand on his forehead, and after a few seconds another one cupped the side of his face.

Arthur hesitantly opened his eyes, almost not wanting to look upon Merlin's happy, friendly face that had always brought nothing but comfort. He didn't want those caring eyes to be that last thing he saw before he died at Merlin's hand!

Slowly, Arthur steeled himself and blinked the tears from his eyes, willing to at least face his death like a true warrior, looking at it head-on.

But, as his vision cleared from the tears, Merlin didn't look like his death, or like any sort of soul-eating monster. He just looked like Merlin, and by god wasn't that the worst part of it?

Merlin slowly smiled at him as his tears dried, coaxing him away from the wall and towards his armchair by the fireplace. Merlin gently guided him over to chair and helped him into his seat, holding Arthur's hand the entire time.

Arthur, once he was sitting, looked over at Merlin, still holding onto his hand and whispering comforting words to him, and Arthur felt like a small, scared child again, freshly awoken from a nightmare and jumping at every shadow.

It took what must have been hours for Arthur to catch his breath, stop his tears, and cease his body's terrified trembling, and Merlin sat next to him the entire time, drying Arthur's tears and comforting him.

Eventually, Arthur looked Merlin in the eyes again, and he could find nothing in them but love and care.

Whatever Merlin was, however hungry he must have been after going five days without being able to hunt for souls to devour, he apparently didn't see Arthur as a target.

Arthur took a deep breath, maintaining eye contact with Merlin. Alright, Merlin might be a soul-eating demon straight out of Camelot's worst nightmares, but he saw Arthur as a friend, not a meal. Arthur... Arthur could work with that.

He just... he needed more information before doing anything else. Merlin was still looking at him with love and concern, and with each passing moment, Arthur became more and more convinced that Merlin was still Merlin, warlock or not. And damn it all, that still counted for something. It had to count for something.

Now that his fear was marginally under control, questions swirled around Arthur's head. How did Merlin even eat souls before this? How often did he need to eat? Did he need to also eat food, or did he sustain himself and his powers on souls alone?

Before he could ask Merlin any of the pressing questions that were on his mind, Merlin had already helped Arthur out of his chair and towards his bed, readying a limp Arthur for bed whilst the king was drowning in his own thoughts.

Before Arthur even knew it, Merlin was pulling blankets over him and snuffing out the candles in his room. Merlin promised to visit Arthur again in the morning to tell him more, and Arthur barely registered his words over the storm of his own thoughts.

When morning came, Arthur couldn't even tell if he had gotten any sleep throughout the night or not, but he woke up exhausted either way. Only a few minutes after the sun had risen, Merlin burst into the room, still looking paler than usual and helping himself to one of the sausages that was supposed to be a part of Arthur's breakfast.

Just the sight of Merlin eating anything made Arthur feel slightly queasy, imaging some terrified soul being devoured at Merlin's hands. Arthur took a deep, steadying breath before getting out of bed, allowing Merlin to dress him as he normally did.

Merlin, much to Arthur's relief, was still acting like nothing had changed, like he was still the same harmless Merlin that Arthur knew him as before yesterday.

If that was how Merlin wanted to act, then Arthur was fine with it. Truthfully, even with all of the questions that Arthur had surrounding Merlin's nature, he found that he didn't really want answers to any of them. Answers would make this new reality, one where Merlin was never harmless at all and where there was a demon hiding under his best friend's skin, real for Arthur. If Arthur didn't have any answers, then he could just... pretend that everything was still fine, like nothing was wrong.

To keep Merlin by his side, he would gladly accept ignorance and pretend like nothing had changed.

However, there was still one issue that Arthur needed an answer to, to confirm that Merlin was still the man who Arthur always thought him to be.

As Merlin was cleaning up Arthur's breakfast plate, Arthur cleared his throat, getting Merlin's attention. Merlin quickly turned around to meet Arthur's gaze, but Arthur didn't feel scared meeting his eyes this time.

"Merlin, I'm willing to let everything that was revealed yesterday be forgiven, and everything can go back to normal."

Merlin gave Arthur a beaming smile at his words, and Arthur continued with a solemn heart.

"However, there is one thing I need to know. You've never..."

Somehow, the words eaten the soul of an innocent person were so vile that they refused to pass Arthur's lips, so he chooses an alternative.

"... hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, right? And you never will in the future? If we are to have any sort of trust between us, you must answer me honestly"

Arthur figured that, if Merlin was indeed forced to eat souls to survive, Merlin was probably feeding on bandits or enemy soldiers that Arthur and the knights would've killed anyways. It was the only explanation, as innocent people didn't mysteriously turn up dead regularly enough in Camelot to indicate that Merlin was feeding on them, and Arthur knew, deep down, that no matter what he was, Merlin would never do such a thing.

Merlin froze at Arthur's words, his smile falling. He lowered his gaze briefly, before meeting Arthur's eyes once more, determination shining brightly in his eyes.

"Arthur, I swear to you, anyone whom I've hurt with my powers were enemies of Camelot. Whatever I've done, I did it to protect you and your subjects."

Arthur nodded, satisfied and relieved by Merlin's answer. Nothing had to change then, Merlin was still his friend and manservant, albeit with powerful magic and an appetite for the souls of his enemies. Arthur could... tolerate that.

As the weeks went on, Arthur found himself thinking about this new side to Merlin less and less. Merlin was still acting exactly as himself, so there was no reason for Arthur to worry, let alone dwell on any thoughts of warlocks.

(And if he had a familiar nightmare from his childhood featuring a warlock, then that was Arthur's business and Arthur's business alone.)

Everything was fine, and months passed without any incidents. That was, however, until Arthur noticed Merlin becoming paler, his cheeks hollowing out again, and his eyes sporting heavy bags. As he took in the changes in Merlin over the past few days, he came to the sickening conclusion: Merlin was getting hungry again, and would need a soul to eat soon.

But Camelot was at peace, there were noticeably less bandits roaming the streets in the past year, and no assassins had come to the castle in the past months. Arthur could see that Merlin's usual... hunting grounds... had been drying up, and he needed to find a solution immediately. Arthur shivered at the thought of what devastation Merlin would unintentionally bring down upon all of them if his hunger ever got out of control.

After several hours of brainstorming on Arthur's part, he finally had an idea. It sickened him to have to consider, but he would do what he had to for the sake of Camelot.

Arthur called for Merlin to follow him as he made his way into the dungeons, where only one prisoner was currently being held. The prisoner was a minor noble who had killed several of his own servants and then used his status as a member of the nobility to cover up his involvement in the murders.

However, the nobleman was sloppy, and there was evidence left behind that proved his guilt without a doubt. He was set to be hanged for his crimes in two days time, as per Arthur's own judgement at the noble's trial, but... if he was going to be executed anyways... perhaps his death may be of use.

(What Arthur didn't know was that the real reason why Merlin looked so exhausted was because Merlin had spent every night for the past week searching for and compiling evidence that the nobleman was behind the murders, as the bastard would've gotten away with it otherwise.)

To Arthur, the criminal's death could be used to ensure that Camelot's only source of magical protection (and Arthur's best and dearest friend) didn't starve to death or go into a hunger-induced rampage, whichever came first.

Slowly, Arthur made his way to the nobleman's cell with Merlin trailing after him, where the criminal was bound to a chair on Arthur's orders. Arthur solemnly opened the door to the cell, gesturing for Merlin to follow him inside.

As soon as Arthur set foot in the cell, the nobleman started begging him for mercy, pleading with him to lower his sentence, not knowing what punishment Arthur truly had in mind for him. Ignoring the soon-to-be dead man, Arthur turned towards Merlin, who was startled by Arthur's intense stare.

"Arthur? What's going on?"

"Merlin," Arthur choked out, his voice rough with guilt, sorrow, and fear alike. Merlin rushed to Arthur's side at the sound, trying to urge him out of the cell, away from whatever issue was causing Arthur such pain.

Standing firm, Arthur cleared his throat.

"Merlin, I need you to... to do something for me."

Concern marred Merlin features as he reached out to Arthur.

"Of course, I would do anything for you Arthur."

Arthur swallowed roughly, trying to force his next words out of his throat. He'd ordered executions before, hell, he'd even ordered this man's execution before, but this was much, much harder than any of the other orders he'd given.

"Merlin, I need you to... take care of this man, as you normally do for enemies of Camelot."

Merlin reeled back with shock, looking somewhere between confused and hurt.

"Arthur, you can't possibly mean for me to..."

"I'm sorry, but yes Merlin, it needs to be done."

Merlin stared at Arthur for a few more moments, before slowly nodding his head and turning towards the bound criminal.

As Merlin stepped closer to the doomed noble, Arthur closed his eyes and turned his head away. Perhaps it was cowardice, but if there were ever a time for Arthur to show such cowardly behavior, it was here. He didn't want to see this part of Merlin.

He did, however, hear everything. There was a scream from the criminal, which was sickeningly cut off by a loud wet crunch that echoes off of the cell's walls, and then there was no sound in the cell except a very loud silence.

Arthur slowly opened his eyes to the sight of Merlin standing in front of a corpse and tried to believe that everything was still normal.

And that's a wrap on this au! Man, that got darker than I expected it to be.

Be sure to let me know if you'd like a continuation of this au!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[vivalabunbun]

Do I Meet Your Qualifications Now?

Summary: A promise made long ago resurfaces during a night of drinks with colleagues. 

Word Count: 8.2k (now this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Office au? kinda, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, slight dubcon, slight angst, mentions of office sexual harassment, creepy boss, mentions of marriage, slight yandere!alhaitham, slight mentions of breeding maybe? Jealously, possessive!alhaitham, you enjoy drinks at a tavern with the sumeru boys.  

Authors note: This is my first smut in a long long time, I just thought about how alhaitham’s bottled up emotions will one day bubble over, inspired by a small ramble of mine lol. Enjoy. 

side note: here is a small continuation after this story

You needed a drink, something strong enough to forget about your growing workload that your paycheck no longer justified. With each new stack of paperwork that reached your desk, the resignation form became increasingly more appealing. You were drained by the time you clocked out at 6 pm, after having to attend 4 meetings throughout the day, all of which could have been a simple email. 

“No no, this company has good 401K matching, paid time off, and dental included. 401K and dental, 401K and dental.” You chanted to yourself, trying to steel your resolve against throwing your two weeks' notice in the face of your manager who has been pushing more and more of his work onto you. 

All while having the gall to be flirty. As if that ugly gold band wasn’t visible on his finger. Your cheeks hurt after having to hold your business professional smile for the past eight hours. The moment you stepped foot beyond those sliding glass doors, massaging your sore face with one hand. 

‘It should be happy hour now, better get a spot at the bar now,’ you thought as you took off your stiff blazer. 

You swore one day you’ll catch a cold from constantly subjecting your body to the dramatic shift of your tundra of an office to the sauna that was Sumeru’s climate. Ugh, stupid professional dress code, and stupid you for deciding to wear your new heels today. The back of your ankles felt raw despite the thin layer of your stockings reducing some of the chafing.

As the saying goes, thank god it was Friday, even though you couldn’t take a half day like so many of your co-workers, you were just glad to finally be out of sight from your manager with wandering eyes. 

Pushing in the wooden doors to the tavern, you were quickly engulfed in the busy hustle and bustling of servers delivering rounds of glasses to rowdy tables and the hearty drunk laughter of flushed faces. 

‘Damn, it’s this crowded already.’ You felt your shoulders drop, ‘should I just pick up some wine on the way home then?’ Another sad weekend spent in your stuffy apartment, great. 

Just as you were about to turn on your heels, you spotted a familiar flash of blond hair. Was that Kaveh? You squinted your eyes to focus on that spot of blond through the wave of patrons. 

“HA! I’m telling you there is no way that shrewd man got his position without some sort of shady dealing. I bet he’s got some dirt on some higher-ups.” 

Yep, that was definitely Kaveh, you immediately recognized that dramatic shrill in his voice. You heard it many times during your college days together, increasingly so whenever he had an architecture final due. He was at a large table, there seemed to be plenty of room for one more person. Swiftly, you made your way through the crowd to tap the blond man on the shoulder, disrupting him mid-rant. 

“Kaveh? Oh my god, it is you. It’s been so long. How’ve you been?” You feigned surprise. 

“Oh? Oh!” His eyes lit up with recognition. “My college savior! How’ve you been? Come, sit down and drink with us!” 

Score, you’ve successfully secured a seat at the tavern. Thus, you avoided wallowing in self-pity alone on your beaten couch. You meet eyes with two unfamiliar faces, the trio seemed to have been setting up a game of cards before you joined, or before Kaveh began to rant about whatever he rants about. 

After a quick round of introductions and placing your order for a glass of sweet wine, you were quickly acclimated to their conversation. Tighnari was a part of the research and development team, while Cyno was the head of company security ensuring no classified information gets leaked to competitors. Kaveh, you already knew was the star of the architecture design department. 

It felt nice being able to relieve stress about redundant company policies and gossip, or at the very least it was entertaining to hear Kaveh whine nonstop about them. 

“Ah, I still just don’t understand how that man got the position of head secretary. I swear he has it out for me, he refused to process my request for approval because ‘it was outside of his working hours’ and because of that my project got delayed a whole week! There is no way he climbed the ranks with that work ethic!” 

You did not even have to ask who the subject of Kaveh’s dismay was, it was quite obvious to the 3 of you at the table. 

“Just because I can manage a healthy work-life balance, does not mean my work ethic is mediocre. My work hours are clearly posted outside of my office, it seems that literacy has decreased.” A husky voice rang out from just behind your chair. 

You felt a slight shiver run up your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its journey. He was here, the main antagonist in Kaveh’s rants has finally shown his face. 

“Oh, ‘Haitham? It’s rare to see you come out of your shell of books.” You looked over your shoulder at the towering man as he loosened his tie. Scooting a bit closer to Cyno, making more room for him to sit at the last seat. 

“It is a surprise to see you here as well, did Kaveh drag you out to play a game of cards… or perhaps did he want you to foot his tab.” Alhaitham gave the blond man a slight side-eye before returning his attention back to you. 

“Hey! I can hear you!”

“It was intentional, couldn’t you tell?” 

“You-”

You let out a light giggle from behind your wine glass, noticing the sliver-haired man’s eyes turning back towards you. 

“Did you want to sample a bit of the wine? It’s sweet.” You offered your glass to him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shiver when his long fingers brushed against yours as he accepted it. You tried to keep your face as polite as possible, not allowing your eyes to wander down along his neck as he took a sip. 

“Not bad,” he placed your glass back down in front of you. “Boss, this is good wine. I would have the same, please.” He turned his large body slightly as he called out to the tavern owner. 

Allowing you to see just how well that button-down shirt fitted his form, the top button seemed to be holding on with all its strength. 

“I thought we were all grown enough to not be entertained by mindless gossip,” Alhaitham remarked towards the table. 

“Not at all, we were just curious about the raising star of the company,” Tighnari commented. 

“There’s nothing special to talk about, I just arrive and do the task I have to before I clock out.” 

“It’s a bit odd for a man that lacks ambition to land such a high role within a year.” Cyno followed up, his eyes holding a hint of suspicion. 

“ It’s really nothing complicated. I’ve even rejected some promotions, the work of a secretary is simple, that’s why I wish to keep things this way.” 

“Ah, he’s humble-bragging now.” You hear the tan man beside you mutter as he crossed his arms. 

You also couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy as well. While you were proud of your childhood friend having success in his carrier, he advanced much faster than you even though you got a two-year head start. 

“Ugh, how did you stand this egomaniac for so long.” Kaveh harshly set his glass down, directing the question at you. 

Seeing this as an opportunity to tone your childhood friend down a few, you couldn’t help the slight grin that spread across your face. 

“Well, he’s always been this way,” you swirled your glass, “I guess I just got used to it.” 

“Makes sense, attitudes like his tend to develop at tender ages.” Tighnari vouched. 

“He was so cute when he was younger. This man used to pull on my sleeve and beg me to read Aristotle to him.” You stole a quick glance over your wine glass. 

“Oh? You two go that far back?” Cyno inquired. 

You hummed in confirmation as you took another sip, “I guess it’s partially my fault for not correcting him back then. But he used to have the chubbiest cheeks, I couldn’t help but be swayed. Who would’ve known that once that cuteness faded, all that’s left is a mulish man.” 

You heard Alhaitham tsk in annoyance at your jabs, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. 

“Clinging onto the past will serve no benefit towards the future. Frankly, it’s a foolish thought.” 

You hid the sting in your heart with a teasing smile, hoping that it reached your eyes as well. He was right, the past was gone and over with, with little to no bearings on the future. The same stood with your relationship, childhood friends, and nothing more. 

Alhaitham had the looks, the stellar career, and was already a homeowner while being four years your junior. Even with your head start on life, it felt as if you were constantly behind him, trying to catch up. You knew one day he’ll leave you in the dust, so it is for the best that you let go of this one-sided crush. 

“Oh? Then I guess I’m released from that childhood pact then. How freeing.” You let out a slight laugh before taking a larger sip of your wine. You should probably order another glass, maybe two actually. 

The stoic man raised an eyebrow at your statement, “and what do you mean by that.”

“Aw, it looks like little ‘Haitham forgot,” you pouted. However, you could not let this opportunity to tease him slip away. 

Setting down your glass, you turned to face everyone gesturing a hand toward Alhaitham. “You see, when we were still children. He walked up to me with a flower and asked me to marry him when we grew up.” 

Instantly piquing the attention of everyone at the table. 

“Pfft, there’s no way that happened.” Kaveh let out a hearty laugh, waving his hand as if dismissing that notion. 

“Best believe it, he ignored me for a week when I told him no. Only ‘forgiving’ me after I gave him extra sweets and promised to think about it again in the future.” You supported your face with one hand. 

“So I guess you are to blame for his apatheticness? Traumatizing him so young? I’m starting to sympathize with you, Alhaitham” Tighnari scoffed. 

“Well, I apologize for my shallow taste when I was a child. I used to dream of being carried off into the sunset in a white dress by my groom.” You dramatically sighed. 

You mockingly patted Alhaitham’s arm, feeling the solid muscle hidden beneath the fabric tense up then relax at your sudden skinship. 

“Before he became an absolute tree, this guy used to be half my size and weight. Which is why I rejected him back then, I didn’t want to crush my groom to death at our wedding.” 

Just what were your intentions when you brought up that childhood memory? Alhaitham was racking his mind, trying to pinpoint a motive, too distracted to be bothered by the snickering that permeated throughout the table. 

Your hand, which still lingered on his arm, brought pulses of heat along his skin, the hair at the nape of his neck pricking up from the sensation. 

“On the topic of marriage, have you gotten any luck so far? Found anyone special yet?” Kaveh tucked his hands under his chin, as he rested his elbows on the crowded table. 

“Ugh, Kaveh, stop you sound like my fucking mother.” You brought your hand up to your temple. Alhaitham’s skin immediately craved your touch again. 

“I’m taking that as a ‘no’ then.”

“Obviously, gosh, every time I go to visit my parents it turns into an interrogation of why I didn’t come back with a ring on my finger.” You took another swig of your wine. 

“Is that so?” Kaveh prodded, wanting the conversation to continue. 

“Honestly, at this rate, I won’t be marrying for love. I’ll be marrying to shut my parents up.” 

“Oh? And what would a husband candidate need? To be able to carry you off to the honeymoon?” 

“Har har har, Kaveh, very clever.” 

“Okay, now seriously.” 

“Well, obviously he needs to get along with my parents.” 

Just earlier this evening Alhaitham had responded to a message from your mother, telling him how thrilled they were to receive his housewarming gift basket. Your mother wishing that more young people were as considerate as he was towards his elders. 

“And I would prefer someone attentive.” 

Alhaitham did not even have to think when ordering coffee for you. A mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and an extra drizzle of chocolate syrup. When it gets closer to the holidays, you liked to add one pump of peppermint syrup.

He also takes note of how your words tend to get more graphic once there's alcohol in your veins. 

“What about income, you want a man with 6 figures? 7?” 

“Ha, if my husband made 7 figures I’d run him a warm bath with rose petals, the house will be spotless, and have dinner set on the table at 7 o’clock sharp. A girl can dream, it would also mean I won’t have to see that ugly bastard’s face again.”

Roses were nice. However, lavender was much better for baths to relax the muscles. After 3 years Alhaitham was confident that he could renegotiate his salary. He knew that your organization skills violently oscillates between an absolute disaster to professional house cleaning service depending on how stressed you were. Your cooking though was always guaranteed to be delectable, 7 pm just so happened to be his preferred time for dinner. 

Pause, wait a moment-

“Huh? Is your manager still bothering you? Isn’t he already married? What a sleazebag.” 

“Tell me about it,” you were rubbing your temples more aggressively. “I’ve thought about staking my pen through his hand if he tried to place it on my shoulder again.” 

“Would you like me to file a report to HR?” Cyno looked over at you with concern and sincerity. 

“Thank you, but I’ve already tried. They said until there was hard evidence of such behavior they can’t move on with an investigation.”

“Ugh, it’s always HR protecting the top dogs once again. Seriously, I’m not even from the same department but even I can feel that slimy gaze of his whenever he looks at you. Makes me want to burn my skin off in the shower, how you withstand that is beyond me.” Kaveh, rested one over his chair, dramatically making a face to show his disgust. 

Your manager, yes, it’s been noted on several performance reports that his productivity has been on the decline. Perhaps, an additional report from Alhaitham about the suspicious disappearance of funds under your manager’s supervision would warrant a full-scale investigation. 

That fool had his wife listed as his emergency contact, the ashen-haired man wondered if he would detail her husband’s harassment of young women in his department to her. 

“Let’s move on to a different subject, shall we? I’d be damned if my Friday night is ruined by thoughts of that man.” You rubbed your thumb along the stem of your glass, a nervous habit of yours he noted. 

And with that, the drinking continued to pour, as Cyno and Kaveh began a round of cards. If you weren’t so distracted by Kaveh’s theatrical whines of how Cyno should take an easy on him, you would’ve seen the look that promised no good on Alhaitham’s face. Its true intentions are well hidden behind a stoic face. 

“You would think he would have learned his limit by now.” Alhaitham couldn’t help but scoff at his housemate. 

The blond was absolutely hammered, slurring his words as if they were some encrypted message. Upon seeing the state that Kaveh was in, everyone unanimously agreed to call it a night. Cyno and Tighnari supported him as Alhaitham went to the edge of a sidewalk to hail a cab. 

“Are you not going to ride in the same taxi as Kaveh? You’re both going to the same destination no?” You inquired, looking up at him after he gave the directions to his house and cash for the trip. 

“And what, get puked on during the ride? Kaveh is a big boy now, I’m sure he’ll manage. Besides…” His teal eyes quickly trailed up your legs.

Your stockings accentuating the shape of your legs as they beckoned his attention towards that pencil skirt with a cheeky leg slit. Not revealing enough to be chastised as unprofessional, but oh so tempting. 

“It’s more important that I see you get home safely. Now, come.” He turned his back towards you, heading in the direction of your apartment. Not wanting to be caught staring at you. 

Throughout the walk the two of you were silent, but it was a calm silence that can only develop from a place of comfort and familiarity. The clicking of your heels and the taps of his dress shoes filled the air between you and him like a metronome. Alhaitham made sure to remind himself to match his pace with yours, lest his longer legs pull him far ahead of you. 

--

Finally arriving at the entrance of your apartment complex, you swiped your keycard to unlock the heavy security door. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system but it took all of your body weight to pry the metal door ajar. You felt a small hand on your back, stopping your pitiful attempt. 

“You’re going to strain your back, here, allow me.” Alhaitham’s voice was so close to your ear that you sore the vibrations tickled it. 

Stepping aside, you allowed Alhaitham to grasp onto the side of the door as he swung the door open as if it weighed nothing. He took hold of the handle, meeting your eyes as he gestured you to enter. You felt a bit stupid for struggling so much with the door in front of him, so you quickly shuffled inside as he followed right behind you. Strolling through the lobby you finally arrived at the shiny doors of the elevator. 

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” You looked up at Alhaitham as you pressed the call button. 

You heard the ding of the elevator arriving… only for the doors to not open.

 You pressed the button again, it dinged again, and again… then the light of the elevator flickered out. Great, just your luck, the elevator decided to break down now of all times. Further embarrassing you in front of Alhaitham. Even though his face remains stoic as ever, he probably thinks your place is shabby. 

“Ha ha, what a way to end a night. I guess I’ll be taking the stairs… You should call a cab to get back now.” You cringed a bit on the inside, why did you sound so awkward? 

The stairwell door creaked open with all the grace of nails dragging down a chalkboard, the noise almost causing a headache to form as you begin your ascension up the gray stairs. 

Only for your 6 flight journey to be halted at the second step as you stumbled. Once again, those new heels you were so excited to wear decided to rear their nasty face. Luckily, you were able to catch yourself on the solid hand railing. Sighing to yourself, you prepared to clutch onto it like a lifeline for the rest of your trek. 

Suddenly your body felt weightless as two solid arms hoisted you up, and you felt your figure way too close to a warm, built frame. 

“W-what are you doing??” Your hands were flailing as you did not know where to place them. 

“Quiet, it’s past midnight and your voice is bouncing off the walls. Do you want a noise complaint?”

“That wasn’t my question! Haitham put me down I can walk!!”

“Oh really? Did you seriously not notice how many times you’ve been tripping and stumbling on your way back? It’s safer for me to just carry you, unless you prefer tumbling down the stairs.” 

“N-no! I-” 

Alhaitham seems to be ignoring your plight as your slaps on his shoulder and arms elicited no reaction. His firm grip on your body did not let up as he effortlessly ascended the stairs, even shifting your weight a bit when he went to open the door to your floor. 

You were stone-cold sober at this point but your face was hot and flushed when Alhaitham finally placed you back down on your own feet at your apartment door. 

You couldn’t muster up the courage to thank him let alone even look at him, in case he sees the obvious red tint on your cheeks. Keys fumbling in your hands as you tried to line it with the keyhole, a small click and turn of the brass knob has your apartment ajar. 

What do you do now? Is this the final goodbye for tonight? Should you take a cold shower to purge these overwhelming emotions? 

“Um… would you like to come inside for a glass of water?” You spoke those words before you could think it through. Great, you just prolonged your suffering, great job. 

“Sure.” And much to your dismay Alhaitham agreed. 

His teal eyes lazily observed the plush throw pillows on your sofa along with the soft blanket hastily thrown over the back of it. Alhaitham could hear you bustling in the kitchen as you prepared a glass of ice water for him. 

In stark contrast to his own walls, yours was crowded with many photos like a timeline of your life. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he observed a photo strip taped onto the side of your college graduation portrait.

It was a cheap strip of laminated plastic from some mall photo booth, but your smile was radiant as you had one hand squeezing his face trying to get the stone-faced boy to crack a smile. 

“Here, it’s on the house.” You clinked the frosty glass onto the coaster in front of him. 

He felt the sofa dip a bit more as you plopped your body on the other side, letting out a content sigh, probably finally being able to feel your feet again. He knew those heels caused you great discomfort, but he almost wished for another glimpse. 

“Thank you.” 

Once more a comfortable silence encased the air between the two of you. Somewhere along the line, your hand found its way to his gray locks, gently running your fingers along his scalp. 

“What shampoo do you use, ‘Haitham? Your hair is always so soft and voluminous. I’m kinda jealous.” He heard the amused quip in your voice. 

He both yearned and despised whenever you pet his head. As your fingers continued to rake through his ash hair he couldn’t help the rush of blood that flowed south. Yet, a pang of annoyance was felt in his chest. ‘You still thought of him as a kid’ was the message he decrypted from your actions. 

“Whichever brand is closest to me at the store. Or whichever bottles Kaveh left in the shower.” Alhaitham leaned a bit more into your touch.

“Tsk, of course.” He could hear the smile in your voice. 

There was no end benefit to be gained from his feelings towards you. In fact, his life would’ve been so much easier if only his brain didn’t release dopamine the moment he hears the slightest mention of you. 

As a person who prides himself on his objectivity and factuality, he could not explain why you were an outlier that skews his rationality. 

The peaceful moment was shattered by the sudden pierce of your ringtone, the name that flashed across the screen caused Alhaitham’s eyes to narrow. 

Manager Kimiya

The manager who has been the source of your frustrations, evident by your conversation back at the bar. Why was he calling you this late? Alhaitham observed the grimace on your face as you quickly retracted your hand from his hair, picking up the phone as you excused yourself back to the kitchen. 

Why were you answering his call? 

You were speaking in a rather hushed voice, even with Alhaitham straining his ears to try and hear just what was so important to warrant a phone call so late at night. 

“Yes, of course…. No… I see… okay… yes… I understand… yes, goodnight to you as well.” 

Before Alhaitham could stop himself, he found his form behind yours at the kitchen counter as you finally ended your call. Frown present at the corners of your lips. 

“Why did he contact you this late?” 

Your body flinched in surprise. Ah, so you did not even notice his presence behind you. As his teal eyes stared down at your smaller frame, he could feel the clawing of a green-eyed monster tugging against the restraints Alhaitham so carefully bounded it in. 

“No reason, just work stuff… mostly.” 

Mostly? Alhaitham pushed down at the monster, trying to bottle the disgusting foreboding envy. 

“Why did you answer?” 

“I just told you, Haitham. It’s for work.” 

Alhaitham’s teeth ground against each other as he clenched his jaw. The monster was thrashing around violently. 

“You didn’t have to answer.” 

Your eyes closed in annoyance as you opened your mouth, a snarky reply ready to be thrown his way. Only for it to be stuck on the tip of your tongue as Alhaitham’s arms grasped the counter at either side of you. Pinning you between the cold granite top and his towering frame. 

“Are you interested in him?” There was a dangerous edge to his low voice. 

“Did you have too much to drink?” You whipped around in disbelief, annoyance dripping from your tone. 

Your face was very close to his, nose almost touching, breaths brushing against each other’s lips. 

“Answer the question.” His voice deepened further, a dark glaze over his eyes. 

“I don’t.” You narrowed your eyes at him, inching your face closer as if to prove a point. 

Alhaitham’s restraint of the beast began to slip. He needed a moment to grasp back onto it, to regain control. No, he could not wait any more, not one second longer.

 It was as if all the past decade's worth of pinning that kept him up at night came rushing out. Bursting through the walls that Alhaitham spent years building to contain them. 

It all rushed out in a messy, heated, and disgusting wave that washed over him and drowned his rationality as he slammed his lips into yours. Capturing the soft flesh into an all-consuming kiss. It was ugly, yet it felt so beautiful. So all consumingly beautiful. 

Your brain was trying its best to regain itself as you recovered from the whiplash, you were kissing Alhaitham. His larger frame pushes your body up against the kitchen counter, cold stone pressing up against your burning skin. His tongue brushed against your lips hungrily, asking out of courtesy for permission. Your lips parted, allowing him access as your fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

It was almost animalistic the way he devoured the air from your lungs, your head began to float as pleasure trailed up your spine. You harshly tugged at his ashen hair to break the near-airtight lock your lips were tangled in. 

Barely getting two much-needed breaths in as your eyes connected with lustful teal before lips clashed once more. You tasted the sweet wine that still lingered on his tongue, the sweet taste of crossing a dangerous line. 

Alhaitham released your lips then dived back into trail kisses from your glistening lips to down your face and neck. A pleased whimper escaped as you titled your head to the side, allowing him more access to your sensitive spots. 

You now had two arms thrown around his neck, back arching as his large hands began to rub your thigh over the thin fabric of your stockings. The heat from his palms and the friction creeping up to your core. You felt the suction of his mouth against your neck causing you to press your chest more into his as you whined. 

Two hands firmly gripped onto each of your legs then harshly parted them, allowing for Alhaitham’s solid torso to press up against your pulsing core. You couldn’t help the slight roll of your hips against his abs, your poor cunt begging for a crumb of attention.

The air was too hot, tension too thick, Your skirt now all bunched up as his fingers skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. You replicated his actions as you clumsily groped at his chest to locate the buttons of the dress shirt, your senses graced by the plushness of his pectorals. 

It was animalistic the way Alhaitham was claiming your skin with his kisses, every now and then marking the tender flesh of your breast and neck. ‘Fuck, how can simple kisses feel so good’ was the thought running through your hazy mind, pressing his head more against you. A hardness making itself known against your neglected wetness. Excitement spiking up inside you. 

“Wrap your legs around me.” He commanded. 

You obediently did so, locking your ankles together behind his back, intentionally rubbing your cunt against his trapped erection. Alhaitham straightened his posture as he scooted your bottom off the counter, large hands digging into the flesh of your ass then firmly squashing your core against hardness. 

The sudden movement causes you to let out a gasp. He shot you a look, warning that he did not have the patience to be teased. 

Effortlessly he carried you into the bedroom, kisses still desperately being exchanged the entire time. Tossing you onto your messy sheets, he took a moment to admire how absolutely wrecked you looked. Cheeks flushed red, lips glossy from mixed saliva, eyes teary yet burning with desire. If you looked like this from simple kisses, he couldn’t wait for what you’d look like during the main event.

With you now on your back, more vulnerable, it gave him the opportunity to finally strip the blouse off your body, exposing more of your skin. Feeling a tug at his shirt. 

“You too…” 

When you asked so shyly with those pouty lips, how could Alhaitham refuse? A silent game began, as for every piece of clothing one shed, the other would follow. Your bra, his belt, your skirt, and his slacks were now littered across your floor. Hands greedily groping at each other's flesh, a large hand cupping your breast as your hand dipped to rub his bulge through his boxers. 

“Excited?” Your confidence was boosted when you felt a small wet patch on the fabric. 

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed. 

Hand releasing your breast to grope the contour of your pussy through your ruined panties. Harshly pressing against your eager clit, a moan tumbled out of your mouth. Alhaitham dropped his head right next to yours, baritone voice against your ear,

“See, you even soaked through your stockings. Just how wet are you?” 

Long fingers began to trace along the slit of your cunt, lazily rubbing a circle on your clit before tracing back down. Your legs wanted to clamp down on his cruel hand but with his body pinning you down it was impossible. The message was clear, you were at his mercy. 

“What do you want?” 

A simple question he asked you, but your pride would not let you answer. That bastard knows what you want, your cunt was practically sobbing for something to be buried deep in it. But he still continued his slow, torturous movement, eyes locked on your expression. You faced away from him, unable to handle the intense glaze on your flushed face. 

“Eyes on me.” His other hand squished your cheeks as he turned your face back. 

Teal and orange eyes piercing into yours, you wanted to protest, he was being so mean. His perfect face only had a slight flush, while you were certain yours was a mess. Alhaitham must have sensed this as he nudged his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest against your pink tongue. 

“Come now, use your words. What do you want?” 

Pride be damned, the burning sensation between your legs overtook your reasoning as his other hand was now harshly circling your sensitive bud. 

“Y-you.” You moaned around his thumb. 

A smug look was now plastered on his handsome face, you weren’t sure if you wanted to slap it or pull him into another kiss. 

“Good girl.” Looping his fingers into the waistband of your stockings, harshly tugging them down the length of your legs. 

He definitely ripped them, but your brain was too busy processing the words he just called. 

Shifting your body more onto the bed, he pried your legs open, giving him a direct view of your drenched panties. Snapping back into reality and suddenly now worried about your modesty you reached a hand down as if to shield your desire from his observant eyes. A quick slap to your hand echoed through the room. 

“It’s a bit late to be embarrassed now.” The same hand pushed the ruined fabric to the side before a long, thick finger was thrusted inside. 

Your head jerked back at the sudden intrusion, barely being able to bite back a moan. Your aching cunt now had a taste of what it craved so desperately, but now it only craved more. Something thicker, longer, heavier. It wanted more even as Alhaitham slipped another finger in with minimal resistance. Scissoring the digits inside of you, exploring deep inside as slick drooled out. 

You tried to suppress your moans by biting down on the thumb that still lingered in your mouth. He sucked a breath through his teeth at your actions. 

“Be nice.” He ordered, tearing his thumb out of your mouth at the same time as his fingers from your cunt. 

His two fingers coated in your juices were then shoved into your gaping mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. Wordlessly you maneuvered your tongue against his fingers, cleaning the slick from the thick digits. His cock twitched when he felt you welcome his fingers deeper into the gummy walls of your mouth.

Alhaitham wanted to play with you more, to tease your clit and pussy until it was swollen and soaking the sheets below. However, right now, he did not have the patience as the length in his boxers raged angrily. Perhaps, if his plan goes well he can save that desire for another time. 

He chuckled to himself, this is what you do to him, you turn him into a man so consumed by lust he would not even stretch you out with good foreplay. Your cunt felt wet enough, he could see how drops of slickness were trailing onto the sheets, you were ready for him. Finally releasing his member out of its confinement, he let out a small hiss that the feeling of his sensitive head rubbing along your slick folds. 

“Wait,” you got up on your elbow as another hand pressed against his toro, halting his movement. 

You swiftly reached over to your nightstand, digging through to find the box of condoms. You took a foil package out, turning back to Alhaitham you handed it to him. You did your best not to look at his member, but it was hard to when it was just that intimidating. On lonely nights, there were times you imagined what that tall, buff body hid beneath the layers. 

‘Would the condom even go over it?’ you wondered as Alhaitham stiffly ripped open the foil. Fortunately, the condom was able to encase his length, you patted yourself on the back for getting the variety pack. 

“Heh,” Alhaitham’s hands grasped the sides of your hips. “You were prepared.” 

It could’ve been your imagination, but his calm tone felt forced. Almost as if he was angry, but Alhaitham never got angry at you. 

“What’s the ma- AH!”

The concern died in your throat when the entirety of his length was thrusted into you. Your cunt clenching around him, not wanting to let go of the deep satisfaction of finally being full. Alhaitham let a quiet moan through his clenched teeth, pulling out halfway then snapping his hips back into yours.

Your hands desperately latched onto your sheets, twisting and pulling the fabric to try and ground yourself. The stretch had you stumbling over your words, never had you felt this full.  He felt so heavy inside of you, deliciously dragging against your quivering walls.  

Alhaitham followed the intrusion with a few slow thrusts, the squelch of your cunt welcoming his length sounded through the heavy air. The grip on your hips turned unyielding as his pace shifted, his hips settling on a punishing pace against your poor masochistic cunt. Moans leaving your lips without regard for your neighbors. 

“Were you expecting this tonight?” He ended his sentence with an especially deep thrust. 

You barely heard him over the wet slapping of skin, mind focused on how good it felt when his tip rammed into that one spot. Alhaitham noticed how your cunt contracted when he hit a particular place, quickly angling his hips to strike your weakness again, then again, and again. Each time he did you would let out a cry, tongue lulling out of your mouth. At this point, his fingers are for sure leaving purple marks. 

“Is that why you were at the bar?” He continued. 

The green-eyed monster clawed its way up inside him, if he had not gone to the bar earlier by chance, would you have shown this sinful face to someone else?

A voice at the back of his mind called for him to take you lovingly, to slow his pace, to caress your face with his hands and kisses. But the voice of the beast whispered in his ear to ruin you, use you to further his own pleasure, to pound the shape of his length into you. Yes, perhaps if he did that then no other man could ever satisfy you. 

“So, who did you plan to take home?” 

He thrusted his tip deeper, you swore it was hitting your cervix now. Breast bouncing along with his violent pace. A thumb dug into your swollen clit suddenly causing you to throw your head back as your mind came dangerously close to the edge of sanity. A delicious tension begins to form in your core.

“Answer. The. Question.” Each word was followed by a harsh thrust, as your bud was pinched between his two fingers. 

“Ah- ah!” Was the only reply you could muster. 

Alhaitham stilled his motion deep inside of you, heavy, thick member resting right up against your cervix. Fingers now cruelly rolling your abused clit in its grasp, making your toes curl and back arch. 

He could feel your walls convulsing around him, begging for more of his punishing thrusts, not wanting the tension to dissipate. But he didn’t want to give that to you, not until you give him what he wanted. 

“Who. Who are you thinking of? Are you imagining being pinned down like this by them?” 

Your lust-hazed eyes looked into his with confusion, brain barely able to string together a coherent thought to process his question. As if he asked you the most elaborate philosophical question. 

Even with your mind nearly liquefied by the heat of pleasure and vision blurred from tears, the self-loathing in his eyes was obvious. Releasing the sheets from your iron grip, you cupped his face as you pulled him into a soft kiss. The first of the night. 

“Y-you ah!” You moaned against his lips. 

His hand stilled for a moment, then quickly regained its pace rolling the bundle of nerves. His lips chased after yours, shallowing your moans as he pinned your body more into the mattress. 

“Say it, confirm it.” A trail connecting your lips as he pulled away. 

“Alh-ah! Alhaitham!” 

A switch was flipped as his hips sprang back into motion, the push and pull rocking the bed as your hands found refuge on his broad shoulders. The tension only grew in your core with every blow against your weak spot in tandem with the circles he was grinding into your bud. 

“Alhaitham! A-ah Alhai-yes, right there!” Shamelessly moaning out his name like you did on those desperate nights with your own fingers. 

Your toes were curling painfully from the pleasure currently engulfing your entire body, your cunt full and hair a mess. Arching your body more into his solid figure as his unforgiving pace continued to abuse your grateful walls.

The wet slooshing of your slick as your hole welcomed his member over and over again no longer embarrassed. You were growing close, the ball of tension in your core was so close to snapping, you wanted sweet release so badly. 

“P-please! Ah! Please!” You begged for him to let you fall into cloud nine. 

Quickly understanding your plead, Alhaitham continued his the motion of his hips, making sure to strike that spot with more force as his thumb rubbed your clit faster. He dipped his head down to kiss along the edge of your tear stained face. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your neck was the catalysis that finally pushed you off the edge. 

Your body pressed itself taught against his, walls clamping down like a vise around his member as the orgasm ripped through your body. Strangled moans against his ears as your vision turned white. 

He removed his thumb from your clit, now even redder and swollen, as he bit more into your neck, the sensation of your walls trying to milk him dry almost brought him over as well. However, he couldn’t let it end so fast, not when he had fantasized about this moment for years. 

He forced himself to drag himself out against the tight grip of your walls, then used his body weight to thrust back into you to continue with his rhythm. He felt his own release approaching as he stared at how your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. 

‘Would you notice if I were to rip the condom off?’ He wondered as you were still on cloud nine, but your body still responding to his moves. 

‘Would you even care? Would you want it too?’ The thought of painting your walls in white and watching as your cunt drank up his thick cum filled him with a dark desire. 

He wanted to fill you with his essence, to claim you as fully his from the inside out, to steep into every fiber of your being. His hands found purchase on your hips again as he pinned your frame below him, thrusting deeper than he had ever before into you as he spilled himself into the latex.

His body shook against yours as he panted from the exertion. 

The creaking of the bed stopped as Alhaitham pulled back to press sweet kisses to your temple, coaxing your consciousness back to reality. Using his fingers to wipe away the tears that still leaked from your eyes, as your pupils came back into view. Returning from their trip at the back of your head. There was a moment of stillness, as pants echoed through the air, breaths overlapping and caressing another. 

You felt him shift, pulling his length fully out from your gummy walls. Your cunt clentched at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he grabbed a few tissues from your night stand, then proceeded to roll the filled condom off, disposing it into the paper. 

You shut your eyes, chest still heaving at the exertion you had just put your body through. 

The sound of condoms shaking against their cardboard box made your eyes snap back open. As you watched the ashen haired man shamelessly pull another foil package out of the container. 

Oh… The night was still young. 

--

The bright and pitched chirping of the birds outside stirred you from your slumber. Oh god, your hips were so sore, you questioned whether or not you would make it out of bed. 

Two arms firmly encompassed your waist, pressing your back against the warm source of the pain in your hip. 

As much as you hated to admit it, Alhaitham looked angelic when he was asleep. Usual stone face now relaxed and soft, the sunlight drawing blurred shapes along his skin and hair through your curtains. 

You wanted to brush the hair out of his peaceful face, fingers reaching out then freezing as the reality of last night hit you. 

You two had crossed the bold line that was drawn in the sand, now standing the cold ocean of the unknown. The questions of what your relationship had turned into violently crashed into you like unforgiving waves as you feel yourself beginning to drown in self-doubt. 

Was this a one-time thing? A closeness you will never experience with him ever again? Was this the final chapter of the story of you and Alhaitham? Did you ruin years of trust and friendship?

 The questions began to become overwhelming, you needed to get up, to just get somewhere to clear your mind. 

Slowly your tried to shimmy yourself out of his firm hold, carefully trying not to rouse him from his slumber. Only for your plan to come crashing down as his arms tightened around you, halting your motion. 

“Stay.” An uncharacteristic softness present in his tone. 

You stilled your body, heart pounding so hard against your chest you were certain Alhaitham could feel it too. Just like how you could feel the rhythmic beating of his against your back. 

His deep breaths brushed against your neck as he buried his face into the crook. Tension now hung in the air, but who was going to be the first to break it? Mustering up all the courage you could gather, 

“Alhaith-”

“I found you a nuisance when I was first introduced to you.” He began. 

You felt your heart sink at his confession, but he continued. 

“The way you dragged me out to play, fed me snacks, and especially when you pet my head. I found it all annoying… It was annoying because it would cause me heart palpitations, my breath would hitch, and my face would flush. I thought I had caught a sickness from you, a sickness that made me addicted to your presence.” 

Your heart was now jumping as if it wanted to burst from your chest, he buried his face deeper into your neck. 

“Then one day I read a book that detailed my exact symptoms. Do you know what the diagnosis was? Love - an intense, deep affection for another person. That day when I proposed with that small weed, I discovered that I was in love with you.” 

You froze, almost not believing your own ears. 

“Well of course back then I did not meet your qualifications. I hoped that the sickness would disappear. No actually, I used to pray to gods I don’t believe in that they would take you out of my head, where you always seemed to haunt . They must have cursed me because as time moved on, my illness just got worse. It began to border on mania, madness. So, please listen.” 

He turned your body in his arms so that you were staring right into his eyes, a hopeful and sincere glimmer present in the saturated teal.  

“I love you, I adore you, I wish to wake up every morning to you in my arms just like this. I want to walk through life hand in hand with you. Your parents hold me in high regard. I will get a mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and extra chocolate syrup every morning for you, I can even learn to make it. If you are worried about finances, if this company doesn’t agree to my raise by the end of two years I will search for another position that will.” 

His fingers intertwined with yours as he brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 

“And I am confident in my ability to carry you no matter what wedding dress you dawn. So do I meet your qualifications now?” 

His teal eyes looked into yours, yearning for your answer. Your eyes were wide and lips frozen. You were waiting to wake up in your messy sheets alone, fully clothed, and for the other side of the bed to be cold. This had to be a dream, this couldn’t be real. 

However, the hot tears that clouded your vision and dripped down your cheeks felt too real to be an illusion. The look of adoration in his eyes was too genuine to be conjured up by your pitiful imagination. 

“Could we… Could we take this slowly?” You whispered, squeezing his hands. 

“Of course. I’ve waited for over sixteen years, I can wait a little longer.” 

You buried your flushed face into his chest, he let your wet tears soak into his skin as he kissed the crown of your head. Embracing each other as if the other could disappear.

“I love you too.” 

--

Fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

[mister0ctopus]

apart-mental issues part 3

mini series - jeon jungkook (ongoing)

Pairings: Neighbor JK x Reader

Summary: Just your awkward and embarrassing encounters with your next-door neighbor, Jungkook. This story has three parts.

I LIED. put your clothes back on. this story doesn't have 3 parts. I realized it's going to be too long to fit into just one chapter. I'll probably make it into 4 or 5 chapters, idk idk. Hehehe!!!

PART 3 i want to be a stone in my next life i can’t keep up let me in

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Mini Series, Neighbors, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Slow Burn (?)

Word Count: 2.9K

a/n: inspired by when i moved to my new apartment and my next door neighbor wasnt jungkook :(

🐙 Masterlist / AskMe

apart-mental issues part 1 apart-mental issues part 2 apart-mental issues part 3

🗿i want to be a stone in my next life

“A stone.”

“That’s what you want to be in your next life?” Sean asked again, giving you a look like you’d just said the earth is flat.

“Yeah, this life is so tiring. I just wanna chill in the next one,” you justified, fingers flying over your keyboard as you edited your case study due this Friday.

Your dining table was a mess of open textbooks, half-empty coffee mugs, and sticky notes plastered everywhere.

You had been working on this project for days, spending countless hours in the university library with your classmate and case study partner, Sean.

However, today, with only online classes on your schedule, Sean offered to come over to your apartment to save you the hassle of commuting to the university. It was thoughtful of him, knowing you had a shift later at work.

Your eyes strained from staring at the screen too long, and the sleep deprivation didn’t help.

A knock on the door startled you.

“I hope that’s food because I’m starving,” Sean said without looking up.

“I didn’t order anything, but... let me check,” you muttered, standing up.

You opened the door to find Jungkook standing there, holding two large containers. A kiss on your forehead and his usual smirk greeted you. “Hey, you should take a break.”

Your chest tightened, a wave of warmth and guilt washing over you. You hadn’t seen him in almost a week because of your packed schedule. You missed him so much. You couldn’t wait for this case study to be over so you could breathe again.

“Thank you, baby,” you said, smiling as you widened the door. But before he could step inside, his eyes flicked over your shoulder, landing on Sean, hunched over his laptop at the dining table.

“Oh, that’s Sean” you added quickly. “Remember? My partner for the case study.”

“Yeah, you mentioned him before” Jungkook nodded, his expression unreadable.

Then you noticed something. “Wait, why aren’t you at work? You should be at work right now.”

He gave you a soft smile, scrunching his nose and sniffing the way he always did when he tried to downplay his feelings. “It’s our company’s anniversary. We got the day off? You haven’t been reading my texts, have you?”

Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t—again. You haven’t been the best at reading and replying to his messages. You didn’t mean to. Not intentionally. It was just you’d been so focused on your case study. Your phone, where even was your phone—

“Baby?” Jungkook’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Oh, yeah... I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ve just been so busy, and I forgot to check…”

“S’okay,” he cut you off, his voice calm and gentle, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you’re busy.” He shifted slightly, adjusting the containers in his hands before holding them out to you. “I just dropped off some food, but I’m heading out now. I’m meeting the guys and Tae’s family for lunch.”

“Oh! Why? What’s the occasion?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

Jungkook gave you tight smile, his eyes lingered on the floor. “It’s Tae’s birthday.”

Oh, right. Now you remember. He told you last week. He even asked you to choose a color for the hat he bought as a gift. You chose brown over black. You groaned, shutting your eyes as the realization hit.

“I’m so sorry!” You rubbed your temples in frustration with yourself.

“Hey it’s ok” he said,  giving your shoulder a light squeeze.

Your thoughts raced, mentally kicking yourself. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. Thank you for the food.” You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“See you tonight after work?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, see you tonight!” you replied with a giggle. “Tell Tae happy birthday. I’m sorry for my fault,” you added, your tone light as you referenced an inside joke he’d shared with you.

He nodded and chuckled softly but didn’t respond, holding your door so you could get back inside while holding the containers.

You turned back inside, placing the containers on the counter as Sean looked up, wide-eyed. “Holy shit, that’s a lot! Who’s that from?”

“Oh, my… next door neighbor,” you said absentmindedly, guilt gnawing at your chest.

“Sweet,” Sean mumbled, obviously distracted and unaware of his surroundings, already back to typing.

Grabbing your phone from under a pile of papers, you unlocked it to find a string of unread messages from Jungkook.

nextdoor<3: [7:15 AM] good morning my beautiful baby 😘 youre just home this morning for online class right? [7:45 AM] baby? still asleep? I don’t want to bother you.. but just reminding you I’m home this morning [8:16 AM] heyyy.. can I come over during your lecture? just want to see you 🥹 [8:32 AM] do you have company? I heard noise.. [9:36 AM] I’m coming over, made you some food.

You stared at the messages, your chest tightening. He’d sent them hours ago. God, hours.

You hadn’t even noticed. It always happened when things got overwhelming, everything else outside the chaos just faded into the background.

You groaned softly, burying your face in your hands.

“You got that chart we made last week?” Sean’s voice pulled you back from your spiraling thoughts.

“Uh… yeah, one sec,” you muttered, rifling through a stack of papers.

Fuck, I can’t keep up.

☠️ i can’t keep up

"YN, can you cover the closing shift?" Your manager’s voice sliced through your foggy mind like a knife. You barely had time to register her words before she continued, practically pleading, "I'm so sorry, Amy and Lia called in sick, and I can’t leave it to the new girl."

"Seems like I don’t have a choice, do I?" You smiled through the pain, already knowing the answer.

Her face lit up with relief as she gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry! I promise you’ll get an extra day off once they’re back.” She hurried off to greet a table that had just walked in, leaving you to mentally prepare for the hours ahead.

This week had felt like it dragged on forever, maybe the longest, most exhausting one of your life.

You had to put a pause on your case study with Sean this morning when you rushed off to work, and now, coming in to an understaffed shift.

You caught Rosie’s eye, one of your friends and fellow servers, as she wiped down a table.

Both of you exchanged a pained look, her exhausted expression saying it all. She pulled a disgusted face before storming off to the kitchen.

Normally, your shift ended at 10 PM, and you should’ve been home before 11, but tonight you’d be staying until last call, closing down the bar, and prepping the floor for the next day.

The place was buzzing, and you barely had a second to breathe between clearing tables and taking orders, clearing tables and taking orders, clearing tables and taking orders…

Hours passed, and exhaustion slowly crept in. You heard your manager yelling at someone in the kitchen, a table throwing a fit because their negroni was too bitter...

Balancing a tray of drinks, you weaved through the loud, chaotic room. Most of the crowd was tipsy or drunk, their voices blending into a dull roar that made it hard to think straight. Your focus shifted between navigating the tables and keeping the drinks steady, until someone caught your eye.

Sitting in the corner booth was Jungkook.

You hadn’t seen him come in, but there he was, scrolling through his phone.

And that’s when it hit you—like a punch to your gut—you didn’t text him! Again.

You were supposed to let him know you’d be late, but of course, you got distracted. Again.

You meant to send a quick message earlier, but one thing led to another, customers needing refills, tables to bus, orders to run…and you forgot.

Again.

You were supposed to see him tonight. How long had he been waiting for you at home? And why was he here?

You dropped off the tray of empty glasses at the station and hurried over to him, your stomach twisting with guilt.

He looked up when you approached, his expression calm, but there was something in his eyes that made your chest tighten.

It wasn’t disappointment—not the sharp sting of frustration you’d seen in others when you forgot something important.

No, this was worse.

Hurt.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” you started, words tumbling out in a rushed mess. “I didn’t mean to not text you, but I had to cover tonight…” Your voice cracked as the guilt clawed its way up your throat.

“It’s okay,” he said, his tone calm, though there was a tightness to his smile. “I figured something came up. I’m here to pick you up. It’s late, and I know you’re tired."

Your eyes darted to the table, where a half-finished root beer float sat. “How long have you been here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Not long,” he replied, leaning back in the booth and fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie.

You opened your mouth to apologize again, but before you could, a loud crash pulled your attention to a table where a drink had seemingly toppled over, or perhaps fallen, as the guests waved frantically to catch your attention.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, giving him an apologetic look before hurrying off. You felt his eyes follow you as you crossed the room, the weight of his gaze lingering even as you focused on taking the group’s order.

After tending to the mess and getting refills, you made your way to the kitchen when Rosie grabbed your arm, pulling you to the side.

“Confess,” Rosie said firmly, narrowing her eyes at you like she was interrogating a suspect.

“Confess what?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

“Who’s the guy in the corner booth? Boyfriend? Situationship? Secret fling? Because he’s been staring at you since he got here!” She gestured wildly toward Jungkook’s direction.

“We’re…He’s…” You trailed off, your thoughts tangling. What was he? Someone who deserved better than you forgetting things.

“Girl, I swear, I thought you were single as hell this whole time!”

“Well, I am! I mean… we’re not officially together.” You sighed. Does he even want you still?

Rosie slapped her forehead dramatically. “Well, girl??? Secure the bag? Are you kidding? He’s hot!” She groaned loudly, fanning herself with exaggerated flair as she walked away. “Oh my God.”

You shook your head, laughing softly at her antics, but the smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

You forced yourself back into the flow of the bustling crowd.

Jungkook patiently waited for you in the booth, and you both shared quick glances from time to time.

You closed at 2 am. Every muscle in your body throbbed with exhaustion, your eyelids heavy with the weight of fatigue. Even the thought of changing out of your work clothes felt like climbing a mountain. Instead, you grabbed the t-shirt you’d come in with and pulled it over your crop top. You just want to go home.

Mentally and physically, all you wanted to do was collapse.

↪️ let me in

As you stepped out of the bar, you saw Jungkook standing near the back door, hands in his pockets, waiting.

The dim glow of the streetlights cast soft shadows over his face, but his sharp gaze was unmistakable as it immediately found yours the moment the door creaked open.

The gloomy sky loomed overhead, thick with the promise of rain. The chilly air bit at your bare legs as you walked towards him, your steps sluggish, dragged.

When suddenly, you felt him shuffle beside you, and his familiar scent enveloped you as he draped his unzipped hoodie over your shoulders.

“It’s freezing, baby,” he said softly, his voice warm against the crisp night air. He adjusted his hoodie to make sure it covered you snugly.

The pang of guilt in your chest weighed heavier than the exhaustion in your bones.

“Thank you,” you murmured, offering a tired yet genuine smile as your eyes traced his familiar features.

His hair had grown longer, the ends curling softly. Instinctively, your fingers reached up, brushing through the strands. And as you did, he closed his eyes as he leaned closer to you. A quiet, contented sigh escaped him, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Without a word, he took your bag, slinging it over his shoulder. His other hand found yours, fingers naturally intertwining, offering additional warmth aside from his hoodie draped over you.

The two of you walked to his car in silence, the sound of your footsteps filling the stillness of the night.

You slid into the passenger seat, the car door clicking shut with a soft thud.

It's deafening, the silence.

Jungkook glanced with a soft smile before starting the engine. His focus was on the road, but the tension in the air between you felt palpable.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting tonight…and the other nights. I should’ve texted. And I haven’t been present for you these past weeks. It’s not fair to you…”

Jungkook’s gaze flickered to you for a moment. He didn’t look angry, but tired. And that made your heart ache even more.

What if this time, the tiredness in his eyes wasn’t from the long wait, but from you?

“I’m not mad at you.” he said, his voice is steady and warm. “I know you’ve been busy, and things get hectic.”

“But…” you hesitated, unsure if you could even finish the thought. His patience has to have limits, right?

Jungkook’s hand slid over to yours, his fingers gently squeezing, as if he could already feel the weight of your thoughts. "What’s going on in that head of yours?" he asked softly, his voice gentle, coaxing you to open up.

You looked down at his hand on yours, feeling small and fragile under the gravity of your own insecurities.

You hated the thought that maybe, just maybe, if he looked too closely, he’d see the mess, the noise, the chaos inside you. And then he’d walk away.

Your walls had been crushed, but as you felt the rush of vulnerability wash over you, the temptation to rebuild them surged.

“I just feel really bad, everything is just so overwhelming right now. Sorry for making this hard.” you exhaled a shaky breath.

“Hey,” he says, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I know you didn’t mean to forget. I’m just relieved to see you at work tonight…I just thought something happened.” His words trail off, but his worry lingers in his eyes.

“When I don’t hear from you, my mind goes all over the place. I worry about you. But I didn’t want to press, because I feel like maybe I’m bothering you.” He continues, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

It’s harder to speak now, but you managed to force the words out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to explain it… It’s like… my brain gets so tangled, and I can only focus on what’s right in front of me. Everything else… it just slips away.”

You held his hand tighter, hoping to somehow communicate the mess in your head, make it simpler, make it easier to understand. “I’ll try harder.”

He slowed down, glancing at you with such tenderness that it made all your broken pieces feel whole again.

“Baby…” he started, his voice soft but steady. “I know how much you’re juggling, and I’m not here to add to that. I don’t need all your time. I just want to know I’m part of your world, not an afterthought.”

He reached over, his hand gently caressing your face. You leaned into his touch.

“And you don’t need to try harder for me. I just wish you’d tell me how I can help. Let me in. That’s all I want.”

“Then I’ll try my best to tell you…”

“I would like that very much.”

——

The moment you entered Jungkook’s apartment, a wave of relief washed over you. It was always so comforting here, his presence in every corner, making the space feel like home. But tonight, your body screamed for rest, and you barely had the energy to sit down, let alone do anything else.

You saw the table already set, two plates waiting idly, a silent testament to the meal he had prepared for you before deciding to come to your work when you didn’t come home on time.

Fuck.

You both quietly ate, your mind silent, but guilt lingered.

After finishing your meal, you were too tired to go back to your apartment. Moving on autopilot, you showered quickly and changed into one of his shirts, the one you usually wear when you stay over. When you stepped out of the shower, you saw he had just finished washing the dishes and was heading straight for the shower himself.

You couldn’t help but sink into his bed, the soft sheets smelling like him, embracing you like an old friend. You wanted to wait for him, to wrap yourself in his warmth, and kiss him until your worries and weariness melted away, but your body had other plans. You curled up under the blanket, and before you knew it, sleep claimed you.

When you woke up the next morning, he’s already gone for work and you were alone in his bed.

His spot is now cold, but the meal on the table is warm.

<- Prev

a/n: Thanks for reading as always. Happy New Year beautiful people! ITS BANGTAN YEAR!!! Here's to 2025!!! <3

-🐙

taglist: @goldietigers294 @ericawantstoescape @kyljjk @daskewl @the-immortal-dreamer

[lustlovehart]

I know I’ve expressed it before, but I absolutely love this monster au and its Reverse set up too, especially with how the dynamics change! No matter the universe and its setup, MC is surrounded by besotted, dangerous individuals, whether monster or man.

I wonder how this setup would work with Jack, since he and Hunter!MC are coworkers even if separated. Perhaps he met Monster!MC prior to becoming a hunter, spared by them for some reason or another and, after being inspired by Leona too, Jack decided the best way to find Monster!MC again was to learn from the best and track them down.

Love how Malleus is so clearly already obsessed with them even before meeting them and returns frustrated and in love to the point few of his faction even comment on his brooding. Poor guy just wants to woo the beautiful monster he’s been assigned to kill, but he will ignore the orders from Crowley because he acknowledges it’s a stupid order.

And just all the scenarios of the Event dudes too!

Human Fellow quickly going from personal to romantic gain after meeting Monster!MC is so funny, especially when he’s not affiliated with the Hunter organization. He’s probably spared by them for this reasoning:

Monster!MC to Human Fellow: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.

That or the fact he’s accompanied by young Gidel and Monster!MC has some boundaries about killing kids or leaving them orphaned. Either way, they’ve now added a conman to the list of their dogged pursuers.

This is probably just a random idea, but Neige’s blurb for the reverse au makes me wonder if he did meet Monster!MC in another lifetime, only to recall them via his dreams/memories (depending on how old MC is here). Perhaps as a besotted young royal who saw the beauty of the monster long ago, only to die tragically before he could express his love or before they could return it. And perhaps there is a near forgotten law from ages past of some forgotten kingdom, whose destruction is credited to Monster!MC, that Riddle finds that would have pardoned a monster from execution via marriage to someone of high standing.

A law Riddle may keep in his back pocket to justify his obsession while finding a loophole to executing Monster!MC. One that a few others might discover if he’s not careful…

Rollo, Rollo my favorite Catholic guilt menace. You are not immune to hot monsters in your area.

Seriously, love this au and all the fun scenarios fit paints, thank you for the brain rot and creativity!

Jack is such an interesting concept in both Au’s! There’s a certain masked stoicism he gives off, whether he has a tail or not, he gives the vibe of one wagging behind him whenever in your vicinity, even when avoiding eye contact…! When I think of one of Jack and Monster!Mc’s first meetings, I imagine you falling out of a tree again except this time, Jack is there to accidentally catch you (Through push ups. When you fall on him, he stays in perfect push up form. It’s you first sign there’s… definitely something different…) When you don’t attack him despite having him underneath you, his curiosity spikes once more. Leona busts into their lounge complaining about you escaping once again.

Maybe… Jack can prove himself to Leona if he catches you (totally has nothing to do with you though, definitely not.)

He has no idea this will actually backfire on him.

Ahh!! I’m so glad the Malleus idea is appreciated!! It’s actually a parallel to Twst!Mc knowing absolutely nothing about Malleus in their first meeting. Meanwhile, Malleus knows everything about you! He knows your capabilities, your height, your weight, your hand size, but.. He knows nothing about you. His only wish is to know your favorite color, your favorite time of the day, perhaps your favorite… gargoyle? Crowley knows about his ever growing infatuation with you…

He always tries his best to tell Malleus you’re just a heinous murderer… But then he glares at him, and the Foundations all powerful leader, backs away immediately.

Fellow is so silly, he looks at you with dollars signs in his eyes, and then you growl a “Shoo” too him with your face in view, and the money is replaced with heart eyes. And ugh!! You’re so right about Monster!Reader not killing younger humans!! Both Mcs have a semblance of kindness. While Hunter!Reader may have a much much bigger soft spot than Monster!Reader, M!Reader doesn’t like the thought of killing a mortal who hasn’t even had the chance to do anything wrong yet… The hearts in Fellows eyes grow bigger while he schemes about having Gidel expose you’re human empathy much more.

You’re actually right about Neiges whole meeting MC in a different life!! It’s really up to interpretation but my idea with it was more like, Neige remembering Monster Hunter!Reader instead! I was listening to “Birds of A feather” by Billie eilish when I was writing his part and then these lyrics popped up and I was struck with inspiration!!

“I knew you in another life. You had the same look in your eyes…” I like to think, even though Monster!Reader is the reason his comrades are on the verge of dying, for single moment, you and Neige lock eyes. He recognizes the way they soften… A more humanized version tenderly smiling at him as they decorate his wings with pretty paint. Except, he never remembers having bright feathers flailing behind his back. Neige is the only one who experiences this phenomenon. When he brings it up the rest of the Reverse cast, they look at him in confusion for these so called dreams.

I do love the idea of him being a prince though, and forbidden romance!! Maybe while Neige damsel in distress carries you away, he confesses a love he never remembers existing. And then… You’re left wondering… How the hell did the royal from 200 years ago find you again? The one who… Begged you to rule over his kingdom with him?!

Riddle finding loops holes in rules is also yummy?!? He wants to follow rules so bad… Finding loopholes almost feels like breaking them in truth, but then again, many less than legal actions have happened within the other units (Not Heartslaybul though, he’ll never let that happen). Before you know, You wake up painted in red roses, Riddle crouching next to you. The pattern is inconsistent, but that’s not the point…

“One is forbidden from yearning for a clean, unsullied, pure monster.” You shiver with the feeling of red paint dripping down your head. “You’re not clean anymore. You’re dirtied with red.” Your clawed hand reaches to wipe the paint from your face, but calloused hands stop you. “That means it’s not forbidden.”

I like how rather than having four ways to treat you like everyone else (Depending on the Au and its Mc), Rollo only has 2. His attitude depends on soley whether you’re a monster or a human. For a human, it will always be “You’re pure, untainted I love you I shall forever stand by you.” Meanwhile 💀, Rollo has a more domineering countenance if you’re a monster… He’ll call you all mannerisms of a devil, yet the beating in his chest can’t stop the fact he heavily yearns for your touch. He’s convinced you’ve hexed him. He’s litterally that Plankton meme. “Oh no, you’re hot!”

I’m so happy my brainrots have been enjoyed by you! I’m always looking forward to your comments on Monster!Twst posts with your thoughts! It’s amazing to see and feel how much you enjoy the Au and my writing ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

[kaspbra-cant-even]

Never Tear Us Apart (Spencer Reid/Reader)

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

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

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

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

Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just give me the keys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to tell you something...”

Chapter 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again.” “Spenc-aah”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[toxicanonymity]

Uber

1.1k / stepdad!Joel x f!reader

#3 in stepdad AU | joel master SUMMARY: When you're drunk, you call Joel instead of a ride share to pick you up, and you try to tempt him on the way home. WARNINGS: I8+ Reader kinda softdom, girthy age gap, brief degradation, stepcest, drunkenness, groping while driving, panty gagging, fingering, mutual masturbation, panty stealing.  

A/N: @megangovier20 inspired his glasses look, and the original post. This is #3 in the AU. Read alone or after Instagram and Snapchat. NEXT after Uber: All Recipes.

---

“God, you’re a mess," he says with his arm around you, helping you walk straight.  "How much have you had to drink?” 

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Few shots.”  It was at least your third when you had the bright idea to text him instead of a ride share.

He grits his teeth then adds,  “And why are you dressed like a fuckin’ hooker?”

He looks like a whore himself. Well-fitting joggers, tight white T-shirt, muscles bulging out everywhere, glasses, bed head.  God, he looks hot. Ugh.

You're falling all over Joel as he opens the door to his truck and has to physically help you into the seat.  You’re playing it up with the hope that Joel feels bolder with you drunk off your ass and away from the house.  You’re home for Thanksgiving. It's a tradition to stay over for the week even though you don't live that far. He's been obnoxiously well behaved and smug about it.  The tension is killing you at every meal.

As he gets you situated, he pushes your legs in to close the door and his hand lingers on your thigh.  You flash your eyebrows and bite your lip.

“I think you like it,” you say, looking him up and down.  How is he so hot?  “and at least you know I’m not takin' anyone home,” you mumble and he walks around to the driver’s side to get in.  Meanwhile, you fold up the center console and slide over into the middle seat.  

-

“Fuck me,” he mutters when he sees you moved. 

"Yes sir," you say, reaching under your skirt to roll down your slutty stockings and take them off entirely.

"C'mon now. . ." He says, then looks you up and down as he buckles his seatbelt. "Christ, you're tryin' to kill me."

He pulls out of your friend's neighborhood and takes a dark backroad. He takes a sharp turn and you fall over him. He shrugs you off. "Put your seatbelt on.” 

You don't. 

"Damnit." He reaches over to grab the lap belt and you seize his big, veiny hand while it's close to where you need it. He resists but just barely.  Far, far less than his strength would allow. You hold his hand on your thigh.

"Not like you haven't touched me," you say. 

"For two seconds," he justifies to himself.

"You want it as bad as I do." You slide his hand between your legs. Then you you rub your balled up stockings into his nose and add, "I know you've been thinking about it."

He takes a deep breath and his eyes darken, then you put the stockings away.

He says, "You're filthy. You know that?" He cant help himself now. Reluctantly, he cups your bare, wet pussy and begins stroking you up and down. 

Your hips rock into his practiced hand and you counter, "what does that make you?" 

He plunges his middle and ring finger inside you, stroking you gently. Just enough for him to feel it. Not trying to get you off.  Probably trying to memorize the inside of your cunt for the next time he jacks off to your Instagram. 

You ride in silence for a minute while he fingers you.

Then his head falls back against the headrest and his mouth falls open.   He curls his fingers and moans as he really starts fucking you with his thick digits. 

You lean over and grab the thick, rock-hard bulge in his joggers, and he groans. His hips lift into your palm and you push back.  His hardness gives you a shock of arousal.  You turn your whole body toward him and slip your hand into his joggers, massaging him through his boxers.  You feel a sliver of his smooth shaft and reach into the hole, finding his tip where precum is beading. It's the first time you've touched his cock and having it in your hand gives you a desperate need to have it other places.

You begin to lower your head to his lap and he shakes his head, "No, uh-huh sweetheart." He takes his hand out from between your legs.  His wet fingers grab your wrist and take your hand out of his pants.  He throws your hand back into your lap as he turns into the neighborhood.  "Not goin' there."  You can't help but think it's a matter of time.  His boundaries started out with hesitancy to jerk off in front of you. Then quickly crumbled to no touching.  Now you're at hands only? With a brief backtrack into no touching. Out of guilt, you imagine. 

-

After parking at the house, he doesn't open the door for you or help you out of the truck. He walks toward the house alone, irritated and determined to stay strong.  

Then you stumble out of the truck and fall on the driveway. 

"Damnit," he says under his breath.  He comes back and helps you inside and upstairs to your room.  You can't help but reach for his cock again on the stairs and he whispers "I swear to god."

If you respect this boundary it might give him the reassurance he needs to push it further next time. 

He helps you into your room and you shut the door behind him. 

"Okay fine, no touching," you relent in a whisper, adding, "sorry, I'm wasted." You're not sorry, you just need his trust.

You lay on your bed and get out your vibrator. "Let's just finish real quick," you tell him.  He sits down at your desk and takes his cock out in silence. He strokes himself and wets his lips as he watches you. When his lips part you worry about his moaning. 

"And keep quiet for once," you say. You get up and stuff the stockings in his mouth and his face looks painfully aroused. 

You turn on your toy and lock eyes with him as he jerks himself off. You want to edge yourself but there's no way you'll last long unless you close your eyes.  You can't physically pry your eyes away from him in his glasses with your stockings in his mouth. 

His nostrils flare as his breathing gets heavier.  His masculine knuckles hypnotize you as his hand moves up and down his length.  His eyelids droop. His neck flexes. His t-shirt stretches. He moans into your stockings and you begin to come. You close your eyes, then as you're riding your orgasm and soaking your comforter, you open open your eyes just in time to see him get up from the chair and cross the room.  You turn off your toy.  He pumps himself just twice more, then aims at your cleavage and comes all over you with a muffled groan.  

When he's finished, he takes the stockings out of his mouth and pockets them.  Then he grabs a tissue from your nightstand and throws it at you. 

On his way out, he says, "get an Uber next time."  

-

This is the third of the series, scroll to the top for links. Fourth coming some time between 5/2-5/7. No tag list for this Joel sorry

Glasses look from @megangovier20 who also caused the original stepdad story (Instagram) with an ask.

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339  @manazo @wolvesandvampires 

[leashybebes]

For the kiss prompt may I request 41 if it so inspires you. If not my backup pick is 10. 😊 Good luck with your assignment!!

41 is because the world is saved. may i offer you a pacific rim au in these trying times?

Tommy has never seen the LA Shatterdome so full. PIlots and technicians and cadets and - civilians, maybe? - are running around, there's the sound of cheering, the babble of excited speech, the boom of announcements. Tommy takes some of Sal's weight as they look around, and up at the looming shape of their Chrome Brawler. Tommy's mentally calculating how long the repairs will take, and trying not to think about how the hell she even managed to get them back to the Shatterdome in one piece. Jesus, what a day.

"Six weeks minimum," Sal says, the drift lingering enough that they don't have to say any more.

"Yeah," Tommy sighs. "C'mon, let's get you to medical."

They hobble along in silence for a few minutes before Sal says, "We'll get an award for this one."

"I'd rather get a week R&R," Tommy argues. God, he wants to sleep so bad.

"Of course you would, you fuckin' misery." Sal digs his elbows into Tommy's ribs and Tommy briefly contemplates dropping him to deal with his fucked up ankle on his own.

They pass Hen and Chim of Sierra Mentor. They seem pretty unscathed, and Hen shoots him a quick look, gestures towards the row of Jaegers and gives him a thumbs up. Tommy feels something of the knot of tension unwind just a little in his chest. Corsair Shrike isn't lined up with the others yet, but then she'd been right at the head of the pack, as always, giving Tommy a fucking heart attack as Evan and Eddie threw themselves into the effort to seal the rift without a single other thought in their minds.

He gets Sal to medical, hands him over bitching and complaining to the medics, and even submits to a quick check over himself. Somehow, he's totally unscathed apart from a pounding headache and he finds himself in the hallway outside medical, drinking from a tepid bottle of water and sweating in the drive suit he should really take off. He closes his eyes, just for a second.

"Tommy!"

The voice jolts him out of the sleep he's been longing for for seventy two miserable hours, cures his headache, erases his tiredness, sends him to his feet because there - Evan. He's also still in his drive suit, only the helmet removed, and he and Eddie have an arm around each other, limping their way towards him. Eddie straightens to stand on his own, gives Tommy a lazy salute, then shoves Evan towards him. Tommy's water bottle falls unheeded at his feet, spilling the last dregs across the floor, and they collide. The stupid suits mean there's no way they can get close enough, no way he can check Evan for injuries to his own satisfaction, but maybe he doesn't need to, because Evan is beaming and babbling, clearly riding the high of adrenaline and the drift and success.

" - you see us out there, Tommy that was amazing, we did it, we did it - "

"You guys were incredible," Tommy says, glancing over to include Eddie in the statement. "Took five years off my life, but wow."

"Deluca okay?" Eddie asks, and Tommy gestures to medical.

"Nothing major."

"Alright," Eddie says. "I'm gonna - " He melts into the hubbub around them and Evan promises to come check on him.

"Tommy," he says again, quieter now. "Tommy, we saved the world."

"Big damn heroes," Tommy jokes, and Evan pulls him into a kiss. It's awkward with the bulk of their drive suits between them, but they make it work. God, it feels so good to have Evan in his arms, alive and whole and justifiably on top of the damn world. If the way Evan presses closer and bites at his lip is anything to go by, tonight is going to be a hell of a night.

The sounds of victory, so long absent from the LA Shatterdome continue to roar around them but Evan sways in his arms and lets out a happy little sigh, and Tommy doesn't hear anything else at all.