#so.... when he *does* attack. its....... strong. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

candy69gurl · 10 months ago

Note

I love your Noncon stories so much... like DAMNNNN..... CAN you please do a teacher gojo (Gojo sensei) x student female reader noncon???? Where she trusts Gojo so much but at the end of the day she ends up being raped by Gojo..... pleaseeeeeeeeeee 💗💗💗💗

Are you.. not weak?

Teacher Gojo x student f!reader

Warnings- 18+, dark, non/con, mentions of violence blood (fight with curse), age gap (both are adults), public sex, misuse of trust, loss of virginity, nipple play, fingering, blow job, sex against wall, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), mutliple orgasm, raw sex (cumming inside), clit slapping, breeding kink

wc - 4.5k

ART NOT MINE !

The curse swirls and coils, spewing putrid venom at you. You dive out of the way, just evading the devastating strike. The curse screeches and lunges at you again, this time successfully scratching your arm with its sharp claws. You flinch as the venom sears like molten fire against your flesh. The curse charges at you again, its teeth and talons hungry for your flesh. You manage to dodge the assault at the last second, but your stamina is swiftly dwindling.

The curse's venom has burned and left your arm raw. The flesh around the cut is already growing septic, and the pain is excruciating.

The venom rushes through your veins like boiling liquid pain, impairing your judgement and equilibrium. You can hardly stand owing to the shock and anguish. You grab your arm, attempting to stop the flow of blood.

You see the curse about to harm you again.

A-am i going to die?

Gojo's eyes widen as he realises the curse is hitting you. He moves at incredible speeds, appearing beside you in an instant. He pulls you out of the path, accepting the curse himself. His six eyes sparkle brightly as he confronts the curse with strong focus and determination. The curse roars in rage, lashing out at Gojo with its claws and teeth. Gojo does not let the strike hit him due to his infinity blocking any attack attempt to hurt him.

Gojo got the news that you not in your dorm so, so he hurries out to find you, his six eyes narrowing as he tries to figure out where you could possibly be. His cursed energy rises as he explores his surroundings, looking for your scent or any indication of where you could be. He dashes from place to place, looking for any trace of you.

When he sensed you, he dashed to where you were, taking in the sight of you fighting a special grade curse.

He notices that you are damaged, with a burn mark on your arm and venom pouring through your veins. Without hesitation, he utilises his Purple Hollow to break the Special Grade curse. His cursed energy coalesces in his palm as he aims a massive blast at the curse. The Purple hollow hits its target with lethal precision, incinerating the curse instantly. The force of the blast sends the curse flying back and leaves a massive crater behind. Gojo lets out a heavy breath in relief as the curse is no more.

Gojo immediately rushes over to your side, his six eyes scanning you for any potential injuries. He sees that you are unconscious, your breaths slow and shallow. He can see that the venom is still coursing through your veins and the skin around the wound is beginning to scab over. He grimaces in concern as he sees the extent of your injuries.

He softly grabs your arms, lifts you, and carries you on his shoulder.

What was she even thinking.. he sighs, and in a second, Gojo transports you to Shoko using his teleportation power, your limp and unconscious body on his shoulders.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the scene around you became fuzzy and unclear as you tried to make sense of it all.

You're laying in bed with your arm bandaged and a dull aching from your wounds.

You sit up slowly, trying to recall what happened.

Your eyes survey the room, and then to Gojo sitting next to your bed.

"S-sensei?"

He gets up and moves closer to you.

"How do you feel?" he says quietly, his voice full of concerm.

"Mf'ne," you reply.

He gives you a slight��smile, his eyes still full with anxiety

"The venom has been neutralised, so your condition is stable for now." He informs you. "You still need to rest. That was a high-level curse.I can't believe you were able to put them off that long."

"Why were you fighting a special grade curse alone.......Do you realise how dangerous that is?"

His tone implies dismay.

"I-", you try to make up something quickly.

He notices the guilt and embarrassment on your face. "You were trying to prove something, weren't you?"

He asks quietly.

You were up against Miwa, who was apparently a fan girl of Gojo. You failed miserably, failing to land a single hit on her throughout the entire match while she effortlessly evaded your attacks and countered you flawlessly. After the match, you overhear Gojo talking to Miwa.

Gojo: "You did well. Your technique is impressive, especially the way you used the environment to your advantage."

Miwa: "Thank you, sensei."

Gojo smiled at her.

Gojo: Keep this up and one day you will be able to the strongest sorcerer like me.

Miwa squealed and blushed, her face brightens.

You rolled your eyes and felt jealous and embarrassed. You felt determined to prove to GOJO that you're just as good, if not better than her so you decided to go and find a special grade curse to fight, alone.

You continue to roll your eyes as you recall what happened a few days earlier, still feeling envious and ashamed by your bad performance and how much Gojo complimented Miwa.

You snap back to reality and realise you're still in the infirmary bed. Your arm injuries continue to pain, and you feel fatigued and weak. Gojo is still sitting next to your bed, staring at you intently.

"I asked you something, Y/N," Gojo squints his eyes, and you can feel it through the blindfold.

"I-i, yes. I only wanted to prove myself that I am strong, and I failed."

Gojo sighs with disappointment.

"Trying to prove yourself by fighting a special grade curse alone.. that was reckless. It's just too dangerous." He looks at you with a mixture of concern and frustration in his eyes. "You're just lucky that I was able to find you in time before anything even worse happened."

"S-sorry.."

He shakes his head, still looking at you with concern.

"It's alright. Just... don't try to do something like this again, okay? If something happens to you, I can never forgive myself", his voice laced with a slight hint of amusement.

"h-huh?" He smiles slightly "I mean it. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if anything bad happened to you." He pauses, his voice softening "You're my... favorite student after all"

He notices the blush on your cheeks and his smile widens. "Don't go blushing on me now", he teases, his voice laced with amusement.

He stops and gives you a serious look.

"You do understand that I'm saying this because I care about you, right?"

You nod without looking at his face.

"Just know that I'm constantly looking out for you and I will not allow anything bad to happen to you."

He pauses again, his face becoming more serious.

"I will keep my eyes on you."

You notice that Gojo has indeed been keeping a close watch over you. You can feel his eyes on you at all times, watching your every move and making sure you stay safe. He is also keeping an eye on who you talk to and what you do, making sure that you don't do anything foolish again.

He's been very vigilant and keeping a close eye on you, which makes you feel both secure and a bit uneasy at the same time.

Despite feeling somewhat uneasy, you trust Gojo and feel secure that he will protect you and keep you safe. You know that he is only doing this to make sure that you don't do anything foolish again, and ultimately you feel reassured by his watchful eyes.

It's true, you know that Gojo will come rushing to your rescue at the slightest indication of injury or discomfort. He's always keeping an eye on you and ready to act at any moment. His vigilance makes you feel both safe and loved, and you realize how lucky you are to have him. You know that he would do anything to protect and heal you.

The other sorcerers started noticing the strange behavior of Gojo. They found it odd that he began keeping a close eye on you and always watching out for you. They were wondering why he was doing this, as usually he doesn't bother about such small matters.

Whenever they pointed this out to him, he would give some reasons like "You're weak" and "You don't know what you are doing" which would make you angrily pout and say "I am not weak!", and "I know what I'm doing".

You are training with Yuji when something unexpected happens, and you find yourself in a lewd position with Yuji on top of you. Yuji fumbles over his own feet and falls on top of you, catching you both off guard. Both of you are flustered.

Just then, Gojo appears from nowhere. He sees you and Yuji in a very provocative position. He grabs Yuji's hoodie and pulls him off you.

"What you two are doing?" He notices Yuji blushing and stuttering, and you're still shaken and flustered by the situation.

"W-we were just t-training ..." Yuji stutters.

"Really. T-training is..." You also stutter, and you both appear flustered and embarrassed.

Suddenly, something explodes inside Gojo. At first, he thought it was just his annoyance with Yuji, but there was more to it. Fear or an unknown emotion he is not sure of it. He wanted to be your first choice, not anyone else.

Yuji says, "Uh.. I.. I have an important work.. I have to leave now." Yuji walks away with an awkward smile.

You both stand awkwardly, Gojo's expression unreadable. You avoid looking at him because you can feel his intense stare on you.

"Uh, I need to go somewhere," you suddenly say.

As you're about to leave, he says "You are not going anywhere."

"W-why not?"

"Because I said so. You are not going anywhere", his voice demmanding and angry He says with some intensity in that, his eyes are pinning you to your place.

" I-i don't understand why not ", you argue

"You don't need to understand."

You can see tension building up in his body, his muscles stiffening . He's acting weird than usual..... you cannot put your finger to it, but something's definitely wrong.

"Well , YOU CANT JUST ORDER ME AROUND LIKE THAT" you suddenly snap.

He stares at you with a fiery look, his eyes like daggers "Do not give me that attitude." His voice is laced with anger, he's clearly not in a good mood. He seems to be losing his patience with you.

"S-stop making fool of me infront of everyone."

He continues to stare at you for a minute, his rage rising

"Is that what you think?" He askss angrily, leaning closer to you while speaking.

You move back, now your back is against the wall of the Jujutsu High building

He appears to notice you leaning back and steps back slightly to give you some personal space. He's still looking at you with fierce eyes, and his voice remains keen as he speaks.

"I'm not making a fool of you in front of everyone. I'm just trying to protect you."

"I.. I don't need your protection"

He grimaces at that statement, his temper boiling up inside him once again. "Hah! You don't remember do you?", his voice harsh as he slams his hands on the wall trapping you against it. His voice is laced with anger as he speaks, he looks down at you. "You do not need my protection, then why the hell were you dying that day?", he growls.

"I.. am really grateful to you for that but that does not m-", you protest He interrupts you, his voice harsh.

"Shut up!" He's livid now, he takes off his blindfold with one hand and you can see his crystal blue, like diamond sword as he glares at you. "If you are really grateful why don't you show that to me?"

Your face shows confusion.

He's so close to you that you can feel his hot breath on your neck. He seems to be enjoying making you squirm, his eyes still filled with an intense look. "Show me how grateful you are. Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

You try to push him away, but he holds his ground, not letting you go. You can feel his chest now against your body, heat radiating from him. He gives you a smirk as his hands move to hold your wrist, restraining you.

Your voice shake as you understand the situation you are in, "H-how am I gonna do that?"

"Hmmm..by giving me your virginity" he says with a hint of amusement in his voice .

Your eyes widen in fear and excitement, "Y-your joking."

His eyes are still intense and serious as he looks down on you. "Am I though?..."

"Sensei pls let me go", you plead, struggling.

"You wouldn’t wanna be on my bad side, sweetheart.” He grinned slyly, his grip tightening around her wrist. His breath ghosting across her cheek. He presses her against the wall more as his ears fill with her pondering heartbeats. “I will be gentle I promise..” His lips graze your earlobe gently, sending chills down your spine.

"N-no please", your voice begging to let go.

“Hmm Don't you trust me Y/N? ” Gojo purs into your ear, his free hand roaming along your body, “I never intend to hurt you."

He releases his grip on your arms letting them fall down, and they shift to grab his shoulders to push him away. His hands cups your cheeks, squeezing them gently, keeping you close to his body. He chuckles darkly, a sinister look dancing in his eyes. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to give you what you need.”

He does not wait for your response, his hands already travelling down to your legs going up to your thighs under your uniform skirt. You bite your lower lip closing eyes "Aww, you like that, baby? That’s good.” His voice dripped with seduction as he continues upward, lingering on your thighs. Gojo can't help but chuckle softly, his mouth hovering above yours.

“Guess you ain’t as resistant as you pretend to be.” He leans in, his lips brushing against yours, seizing the opportunity to capture your lips with his own. His tongue darts out to taste you, claiming ownership of your mouth. Gojo wants you, he needs you, and now he's taking you right here. His hands roam freely, exploring every inch of your lovely body. As the kiss intensified, he feels your submission within it. His hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading it gently through your clothes.

“Let me have you,” he growls his teeth gently grazing your bottom lip. His other hand slide down your side, cupping your ass and pulling you closer, the heat building up in your core is unmistakable.

"P-please not here, w-what if someone-"

"Then you better not make any noise." He whispers against your lips. His hands shift, beginning to tug at the buttons of your uniform shirt.

“We’ll do this right, ok?” He says reassuringly, yet demanding obedience. He can't resist the urge anymore, his body screams for you, his soul desires you. He needs to make this moment last, to imprint it onto both your minds forever. He starts unbuttoning your uniform, revealing delicate skin beneath.Your eyes follow his hand movements.

A gentle bite on your neck made you gasp softly; a rush of adrenaline filled the air. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll protect you from everything else.”

His voice was rough, almost animalistic in its hunger. He was determined to satisfy his primal urges. He unbottons all the bottons of your shirt.

You try to hide your exposed chest.

Gojo's smirk widened as he feels you hiding yourself from him. "Don't do it.” He orders hoarsely, playing with the strap of your bra. "Don't you trust me?"

You nod, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

He takes your hand which was hiding your breasts and kisses them gently. Pulling your bra up, he reveals your breasts, nipples hardening at his gaze. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, teasing them softly. His hands travel down your waist, lifting your thigh up. His thumb rubbing against your clad clit.

You flinch at his touch, his lips curl up to an evil smile as he finds your neck again, nipping and sucking, marking you as his own.

"Let me take care of you, baby." He pushes your undies aside, thrusting a finger inside you.

Your eyes shut close at his sudden thrust, "Aah, s-so sudden.." your one arm wrap itself around his neck and the other grabs his shoudler for balance.

"Your so wet yet you say you don't want this.. So Tight, ah" Gojo speaks, his voice low and husky. He adds another finger, stretching you wide. "You have no idea how much we both want this, Y/N. It's been killing me – waiting, watching you from a ar."

"nngh n-no more ssensei, c-cant stand"

Gojo's smirk grew bigger, his fingers moving inside you faster. “Can’t handle this, huh?” He chuckles darkly, thrusting his fingers deeper. "If you can't handle my fingers, how are you gonna handle my cock hm?"

"Pls I can't take anymore."

“You said you are not weak, why don't you try and prove it?” His voice was rough, his hips grinding against you. He hooks his finger on your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"Hnghh-" you arch your body as his fingers move faster, hitting a spot that makes you whimper softly, your nails digging into his shoulder as you feel yourself reaching climax, he feels your walls tightening more. his other hand leaves your waist and grabs your breasts, squeezing them roughly, pinching and rolling your nipples slightly. His fingers curl inside you, and you cry out creaming with his fingers in you.

"Shh", he harshly covers your mouth, "you don't want people to see you like this do you?"

You shake your head frantically, as knees shake and you gradually collapse to the ground. He lets you collapse on ground as you breath after such an intense orgasm for the first time in your life.

“Easy, my little bird,” he coos, unbuckeling his belt pulling his erect shaft. “Open your mouth”

Your eyes shift to his member to his face "W-what?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Y/N." He says, his voice thick with lust. "Open your mouth if you don't want to get hurt when I fuck you with it." He repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

"I-its so big"

"Don't worry I will guide you through it" You slowly open your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. He smiles, his eyes filled with lust and desire. He slowly thrusts his cock into your mouth, feeling your tongue swirl around him. He moans softly, his fingers tangling in your hair protecting the back of your head, as he pushes your head against the wall. He thrusts deeper, feeling your gag reflex kick in.

He pulls back slightly, giving you a chance to breathe. He thrusts back in, feeling your throat constrict around him. He moans louder, his hands pulling your head closer to him. He thrusts faster, feeling your nose press against his stomach.

Gojo grins, "That's right, take it all." He groans, his hips pistoning harder, forcing you to take his full length. He slams into you, thrusting in and out of your mouth, his movements becoming erratic. He's so close, his eyes roll back in pleasure. His fingernails dig into your scalp, his balls slapping against your chin.

"Almost there..." he pulls out his dick before he can cum. "Mhm..Nah.. Not gonna cum in your mouth..", drools drip down your chin. You inhale as much air as possible "Good girl." He praises, his breath ragged. He picks you up with his hands beneath your thighs , he presses your legs tightly against the wall as he rubs himself against your wetness.

"D-dont go any further..", you protest.

“I promise I'll pull out if it hurts.” He says, his breath hot against your ear. He positions himself at your entrance, his tip sliding in easily. "I can never hurt you", he gives you a small peck on your lips, as he pushes himself for inside you.

"P-please it hurts .. Ahh.. p-pull it out"

"If you struggle more its gonna hurt you, so relax" He growls, his voice thick with lust. He pushes himself in, inch by inch.

Your body shakes with each inch he pushing inside you. Tears roll down your cheek, toes curling at the pain yet pleasure.

"You crying?" He asks with a teasing look in his face, his pace slowing down. "it won't hurt forever" He thrusts fully in you.

You body arches back against the wall.

"Just relax." He breathes, his hips rocking against you. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He asks, his dick sliding in and out of you rhythmically. He pumps you slowly at first, letting you adjust to the feeling.

Your mind is blank, your just taking everything he is giving to you. He starts thrusting faster, his grip on your hips tightens.

"You're so fucking good, baby. So tight and wet...” He pants, his eyes locked on yours. He slams himself inside you, your walls gripping his size. He bites his lower lip, trying not to release too soon. He slams against your womb, feeling you tighten around him. He kisses your forehead . "I'll cherish you forever, I'll protect you, promise". He holds your face with one hand, forcing you to look into his eyes. He leans down, his lips capturing yours. "I love you." He says between kisses.

"S-sensei hnghh .. a-ah .. l-love you too.. a-ah" Gojo groans, his thrusts becoming harder and rougher, You wrap your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

"Hah! I knew you felt it too.." He thrusts harder, deep thrusts making you moan loudly. He grips your ass, making sure every inch goes in. "Tell me again! Tell me how much you love me!" He roars, one of his hand squeezed your breasts while the other was placed on the wall maintaining balance. His grip on your ass tightens as he feels his climax approaching.

“Love you!” You scream, your nails digging into his shoulders. "

"Yes! That's it!” He roars, his hips bucking wildly. He sucks on your breasts alternatively and fiercely, his teeth grazing your nipple.

“Fuck! Yes!” He releases, your breast with a lewd sound turning you around, pushing you against the wall, by your neck as he slams into you from the back

"Gon' cum", you whimper.

His dick slides in and out of you at a frenzied pace. He spanks your ass, causing you to yelp. He thrusts deeply, your walls milking him.

"Cum for me, baby!" He groans, his pace increasing. "Do it!" His voice tingling your ears as his thrusts getting more and more forceful. His nails dig into your skin as he nears his peak.

"mhm y-yes.. ah", you cum, squeezing his dick so tightly that he can't help but moan His hips slowing down letting you relax before jerking and spilling inside you, filling your womb .

He collapses on top of you, catching his breath. "You're mine.. Now that I have take your virginity." He mutters, nuzzling your hair. "No one can take you away from me." He whispers, his heart racing.

He lifts away from you.. Your nails glide down the wall as your knees go weak and you collapse on the ground with your ass high up and his seed spilling out of you His cum dripping down your thighs "W-why did you cum inside?", your voice still shaken. He smirks, kneeling beside you, he cleans you up, his fingers running over your sensitive clit. "The way your walls were squeezing me. Seemed they didn't want to leave my dick alone mhm" He spreads your legs, admiring his work.

"Don't worry gon buy you emergency contraception" He laughs, shaking his head. "Though you would look good with my child" He slaps your cunt only to watch his seed drooling down and your walls clench around nothing.

"Let's go shall we? or you gon keep your ass high up in the air for me to invade you more"

You get up, glaring at him and try to walk but falls down but gojo holds before you fall. Gojo chuckles, holding your waist not letting you fall.

“You’re so cute when you try to be mad but fail, Y/N.” He says, smiling brightly. "Looks like you won't be able to walk for a few days huh" He says, helping you walk.

Yuji and Nobara notice you two approaching them, and Yuji's face lightens with amusement.

"Are you Okay Y/N?" Yuji smirks and raises his eyebrow.

Gojo shrugs. "Ahahahahahahaha.. She just fell down and I had to look out for her as I usually do"

Nobara rolls her eyes and whispers to Yuji, who giggles. "I wonder what happened here." She chuckles, crossing her arms.

Megumi looks at you with concern on his face.

Gojo snickers as he holds you tighter. "I told you she's fragile," he says, his arm draped around your shoulder.

You yell back at him "I AM NOT WEAKKK"

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okwonyo · 2 months ago

Text

（标题） KINDA HOPE THEY CATCH US.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡⠀you and your colleague share a heated moment.

( 엔하이픈 성훈 ) ୨୧ f .. r 1OOO. fluff secret relationship ── flirting kissing skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

지아 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒ㅤ i can’t change themes without dropping a work huhu enjoy, mwahmwah 🎀

there has never been a bigger sigh of relief than the one you let out of your chest a few millisecond prior.

the feeling of your entire body relaxing, your fingers leaving the keyboard, the sound of its touch finally stopping and your back finally hitting the back chair, there is nothing greater.

your hands’ muscles hurt from tapping for over an hour and the black your eyelids provide to your eyes relaxes them after a while not leaving the bright screen. you join both of your hands and stretch your arms all the way to the ceiling— it does so good to your back, you let out a soft groan.

when you finally open your eyes, they are facing the ceiling just like your palms. you put your arms down and do the same with your gaze.

and a heart attack almost causes your end when you see your coworker, sitting on the desk right in front of you, looking at you.

he smiles when you finally pay attention to him, as if he has been waiting for this for a while. to be fair, you haven’t been paying attention to anyone for three hours. too occupied with your documents.

his glasses slide down his nose in the slightest and with the way his face was originally facing the paper on his table, he is looking up at you with a well too deep look for your liking.

“what?” you mouth, going for annoyed but the more he looks at you, the more a small grin draws itself on your face.

he shrugs as he mouths a back a less than convincing, “nothing” with a smirk that says all the contrary.

you are the one to look away first, going back to your godforsaken document that you have been filling since the beginning of time. you send it to the printer and, before pushing on your heels and getting up, shoot a look to your coworker (that is totally not an invitation to follow you!).

the sound of your heels against the floor resonate in the entirety of the hall. there are other steps that are not yours coming fast behind you after a while. they are fewer yet getting closer, like the person is much taller than you.

you can feel the presence of the individual behind you right after you walk past the tiny room with all the household products. and before you can get too far from it, a strong hand holds your forearm and pulls you in.

a yelp leaves your mouth when your back hits the door and before you can say anything a hot mouth finds yours.

you can’t help but smile and sigh as you slide your palms on his neck, “sungoon,” before kissing him back.

he slides one of his arms around your waist, making you have no contact with the door, as he hums against your mouth. he steadies himself with his free hand planted on the wooden exit.

you think you shouldn’t let a man drag you wherever he wants like that, you also think his glasses are about to crack if he doesn’t take them off. but you would let sunghoon drag you anywhere he wants and the kiss is too good to act on the last thought.

“i’ve been,” he says between two kisses, your hand sliding in his hair. “thinking about you,” he continues, leaving your lips to trail kisses on your jaw, “all day long.”

he is all over your mouth again before you can even respond to that declaration that made butterflies erupt in your stomach. his teeth sink gently on your bottom lips, asking you to open your mouth for him.

it is like your legs evaporate when he slides his tongue inside your in between your lips. he explores, licks everything in it and electricity runs all over your body when both of your tongues connect.

his huge hand on your lower back presses you impossibly closer to him. your fingers grip his hair and the man only smiles as he tilts his head to the side, to get his tongue further into your mouth.

kissing sunghoon at work must be the best feeling ever. the adrenaline the thought of getting caught creates in your being is amazing. his lips against yours is like a drug that soothes and energizes you at the same time.

alas, today is way too busy to mess around like that.

it takes about ninety percent of the strength in your body to break the kiss by turning your head to the side. the fact that sunghoon is completely unbothered and focuses on your neck with no shame and no less fervor doesn’t help.

“someone is going to catch us,” you whisper to him, still smiling at the hot contact of his mouth on your skin.

you should know by now that this is the last thing he cares about, “i hope they catch us,” he responds against you.

you bite down your lip while he keeps leaving pecks on your jaw, down to your neck. one of his hands slowly comes to your buttoned shirt’s first button: you immediately push him away.

“no,” you firmly state, with an accusatory finger that doesn’t go well with your huge grin.

he holds his hands in surrender, the same grin mirroring on his face. his hair is messy, his glasses aren’t in a straight line and there is lipstick all over his mouth. the last ten percent of your strength is put in not kissing him again.

“no more kisses for me?” he asks as he steps one step closer to you, too close.

he is overing you again. he smells like fresh coffee mixed to his cologne. his badge hangs around his neck like a necklace, following the line of his black tie.

you push him away— again— before you can even think of wrapping your fingers around this tie and pull him in another mouth to mouth, “no.”

then you leave the small room. the fresh air hitting your lungs as soon as you step outside of it. sunghoon has the capacity of taking your capacity to breathe normally away.

with a hand on your fast-beating heart, you walk toward the printer to take your papers, “we are not done,” you hear his voice loud, you stop in your tracks and take advantage of the fact he doesn’t see you to smile. when you start to move again he adds : “you’ll see tonight!”

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

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bluecollarmcandtf · 4 months ago

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Dating a ghost isn't easy...

I love my boyfriend. I really do, but his death has put a strain on our relationship. At least Halloween is close which means his spirit is close too. Like always, I spend lunch alone at our favorite cafe, waiting for him to fill the empty seat next to me. I jump when a burly worker throws his heavy frame down, blaring a husky, "Hey sexy! Give your man a smile!"

"Danny?" I ask, shaken by the guy's abrupt arrival and more-than-rough countenance.

"The name's Gordon," he bellows back, draping his dirty arms and legs aggressively outward, "But yeah, it's me sugar, your dead boyfriend. I thought you'd appreciate me showing up in a hunky body of the working man!" He flexes one of his thick arms and flashes challenging looks at some of the nearby customers.

His crass words make me shudder. My Danny was soft-spoken, charming, and thoughtful: nothing like the rude, stinking gorilla in front of me. Sure, a big hairy construction worker like this is great to fantasize about, but it's less exciting when that hulking body is sitting right there. His cocky mannerisms, sour body odor, and wandering eyes that seem to undress everyone they land on: it all adds to the growing pit in my stomach.

"You just gonna stare, sweet-lips?" he goes on, snickering with Gordon's deep timbre, "Spent the morning jackhammering the sidewalk, but now I could hammer your organs out!"

"Danny!" I blush, checking to see if anyone overheard. They're already staring, probably wondering why this guy sat down at this nice cafe caked in mud, "Can you cool it with this Gordon-the-macho-construction-worker vibe? I know you can't help it, but it's a bit much!"

"Fuck! Just shut up and kiss me already," he grunts, leading his heavy body covered in sweat with puckered lips in my direction.

"Danny sto-OH!" I can't help but melt into the bulky embrace. With arms like Gordon's, I don't have much choice, and though his breath smells like cigarettes and his skin is slick with sweat, I enjoy finally kissing my boyfriend again even if it is through the mouth of some ridiculously unmannered construction worker. At least I've got my boyfriend back!

"That's my boy," he growls low in my ear, and I feel a strong hand squeeze my ass tightly through its filthy work glove. Fuck! Danny is so assertive inside this Gordon character.

"Babe, please not here," I wheeze from the effort of escaping the intensely strong grip, "And not with Gordon. Aren't you tired of being an dumb, hairy ape yet?"

"Not at all!" he announces as he reclines in his seat, almost yelling with Gordon's loud voice.

I shake my head, admittedly feeling more and more amused by this rough-around-the-edges giant. Ever since Danny passed away and started possessing people, I realized hopping into bodies wasn't like the movies. He didn't just jump into some dude and take over, his soul became entwined with that other person. All of his hosts have personalities, memories, and habits that bleed into Danny as long as he's wearing them. Honestly, more of the host shines through than my actual boyfriend does, but regardless of who he possesses, his love for me is never affected. I suppose that's enough to put up with some of the more unpleasant quirks of each guy he takes over.

"I don't mind walkin' around in Gordo's boots," he grins at me, obviously at home in the man's sun-dried skin, "But lemme see if I can find a cleaner stiff to hop in for ya."

With that, Danny hoists himself off chair. I swear every move he makes in that body is startling, shaking the table with the ruckus of his tool belt being carelessly whipped around. Seeing the burly worker stand there with his hands on his hips makes me almost regret suggesting he swap out of the body. Sure the mud, sweat, and body hair makes my skin itch, but imagining that thug attacking me with his careless dominance is turning me on: not to mention the tight ass beneath that denim.

"Lunch break is almost over. Needa head back to the yard," he growls and then catches himself, "I mean Gordon does. I'll be back in someone else to finish this fuckin' date!"

"You're a real working man, Gordon," I tease, understanding this character a bit better "I'm sure you're the big boss on site."

"You bet yer ass, I am," he thumbs his chest proudly, "Someone's gotta keep the guys runnin' smoothly. Who else gonna do it?"

"Well I'll let you get back to work. Hopefully I'll run into you again. Maybe at home tonight?"

"Hell yeah!" he bursts, "I'll hop in this guy later, so I can take a look at your plumbing. Anything you need! ...I'll be your handyman, baby!"

"Hope you don't mind getting your hands dirty," I wink, and he flashes me one last wild grin from Gordon's face. That grin falters, and the construction worker shudders. His eyes still stare at me, but I can tell they don't recognize me anymore. Danny's left his body.

"Uh, sorry 'bout that," the real Gordon mumbles, "Dunno what came over me."

"Don't worry about it."

"We know each other?" he asks, pawing at his head in desperate confusion, "We been chattin' like we do. Only just realized I don't think I know you like I thought I did." The poor guy's mind is probably racing with conflicting ideas.

The laborer chuckles nervously. I can tell Gordon is completely unsure about what he's been doing. Danny seems to have that effect on his hosts. Understand that they're still conscious while he possesses them; his thoughts just merge with their own. So, right now, Gordon the rough-neck construction worker is trying to reconcile the fact that he's been thinking of me as his boyfriend for the last twenty minutes. The poor guy's probably never had a gay thought in his life! Yet he just spent his break flirting with some random guy at a random cafe. He even kissed me, and I'm pretty sure Danny was imagining some rather homoerotic things with that guy's head.

"Sorry, man," I shrug, pretending to be just as clueless as he is.

"Fuckin' queer," his face hardens into a glare before he leaves our inexplicable lunch date.

"See you tonight, Gordo!" I call lightheartedly.

The construction worker gives me an intense scowl, but I can see blushing cheeks under that matted beard. Danny definitely had some sexual thoughts while possessing that guy, and Gordon seems completely embarrassed that those thoughts were in his head. Well, his opinion on the subject will completely change once again tonight when Danny hops back in.

"Afternoon, sir," a voice hums to my right, "Got some time to thank me for my service?"

"Danny?" I immediately gasp.

"In the flesh," the policeman flirts with a cool voice, "At least, in your hometown hero's flesh." Danny enjoys a sip of coffee and shoots me a smile from the man's sparkling white teeth.

"Uh, are you sure you should be inside a cop," I whisper, leaning in so our fellow cafe-goers won't hear. They were already staring when a big blue-collar bear sat opposite me, but now their intrigue is growing from this man of the law. It doesn't help that this cop is a local celebrity! Nearly everyone's seen him on the news. With a face like that, it's no wonder the force chose him for public relations.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he extends a capable hand, "The name's Officer Steele."

"Well, officer," I try not to swoon too hard as Danny forcefully shakes my palm, "I'm-"

"You're my lover," he interjects warmly, "I know you like a man in uniform, sir. Why not enjoy the best guy this town has in uniform?"

"Wow, I..." I fumble, "...yup. Are you sure I'm not keeping you from anything important?"

"I've got patrol duty today," he nonchalantly answers, "But the town’s quiet. Besides, a guy’s gotta take a break sometime, right? Can’t be all work and no play." The officer's sneer is dripping with pride, clearly keeping a high opinion of himself! I doubt this man would be so open if Danny weren't in their making Steele think I'm his lover. Who knew the cop was as arrogant as he was charming?

"Aren't your fellow police counting on you to protect and serve, officer?"

"Oh sir, I can show you how well I protect and serve. And my men know better than to question me. I mean, look at me. Who else is gonna chase down the perps? Certainly not those doughnut-loving desk jockeys.” Steele stares me down with a confident, haughty look as he rises out of the chair. It's hard to do anything but listen and watch when Danny's wearing a guy like this. His eyes grip me in a trance while his fingers undo his shirt buttons.

"Like what you see, sir?" Officer Steele smirks.

I can only answer with a dumb nod as I drink in the sight of his chiselled torso. Somehow the dusting of blonde fur only defines his perfect musculature further. At this point, everyone in the cafe has stopped to gawk at the cop stripping in the middle of their lunch.

"You make one hell of a cop, Danny," I breathe.

"It's Officer Steele, remember?" he winks, and bounces his pecs, rippling the fabric dangling off his shoulders, "I work out twice a day, before and after my shift. Sure it helps keep the town safe, but I also just like the citizens of this town to see me as the hot, muscular cop of their dreams. I love their eyes on me when I pull them over or walk past on patrol. They're always intimidated, jealous, or turned on."

With this Danny looks around at the people around him, matching their stunned expressions. I'll admit that I'm a little surprised by how vulnerable my boyfriend is getting with this cop's inner thoughts. Maybe this is all how Steele actually feels, but I doubt the officer would want to share it with the world!

"Maybe we should slow down," I suggest.

"Do I need to get out my handcuffs, sir," the cop purrs, his tone sharpening as he steps closer, "I'm used to having a good girl waiting for me at home, but I want that to be you tonight. Men are a whole lot more capable than women afterall. I'll be late from the gym, but I'd like supper ready. Think you can handle that?" His big hands hold me squarely at the shoulders while he stares down in my eyes. For a second I'm lost in the proximity of his handsome face and statuesque muscles.

That's when I notice the ring.

"Jesus, Danny!" I chastise.

"It's Officer Steele!"

"No! Jump out! You hopped into a married man!" Honestly, part of me is relieved to find something wrong. Officer Hadley was starting to freak me out, and now that I know he's married to a woman, his sexist comments are starting to make a lot more sense.

"Oh, come on," the cop rolls his eyes, "She doesn't have to know. You're my boyfriend, anyway! You won't find a hotter guy than me!"

I put my foot down and give Steele a look, appealing to the Danny I know is somewhere inside him. Like I'd hoped, he relents and let's out one more sigh of frustration. Then the cop's meticulously trained body shivers and his eyes lose their intense focus. In seconds, Danny's spirit slips out of the cocky cop.

"Woah!" Officer Steele gasps, "Why did I do that?" He looks just as confused as Gordon did, frantically trying to button up his shirt and lose the attention of everyone in the cafe.

"Beats me," I play dumb, "Hope your wife doesn't hear about this."

"No!" the cop stomps over, "That wasn't what happened. I wasn't...coming on to you or anything. I'm not even into men!"

"Seemed like you were..." I press.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going home to my wife tonight. You are not..." Steele glances around warily before whispering, "...my boyfriend. Got it!"

"Of course, Officer," I assure him, enjoying the rapid crumbling of his confident swagger.

The policeman lingers around the cafe to collect himself and straighten up his uniform. I can tell he'd like to say a few more words before leaving, but he thinks twice with the crowd of witnesses and strides off forcefully. I wonder if a guy like that would lash out if we weren't in such a public place. His poor wife better watch out tonight. I can't believe my Danny was inside a guy like that! The thought of his good-natured demeanor mixing with that man's entitlement and aggression makes me sick; not to mention his antiquated ideas about gender roles!

That's what's always so tricky about dating my boyfriend through a neverending series of hosts. Sure, I get to sleep with a rotation of the hottest characters I want, but the bad gets mixed in there too. I have to put up with his body's offensive ideas, mean comments, and weird behavior. I know I can't blame Danny for it, but while he's possessing those guys, those are his thoughts as much as they are theirs. It's just unsettling.

"Sorry about that," I hear behind me.

"You're in the waiter now?" I feign a smile, unable to hide how tired I've grown.

Now that the cafe is rid of the policeman and construction worker, the atmosphere of the place seems to go back to normal. People turn their attention back to the food on their plates or the screens on their phones.

"Can I get you another cup? It's on the house," the cafe server tries to lighten the mood.

"Danny, I'm just tired..." I admit, "Wait, what's the name now?"

"It's Josh," the waiter replies, "But I am sorry about being inside that cop. I just want tonight to be special you know. That's why I've been combing the town for the biggest, hottest guys to jump in. You deserve the best!"

"Josh...Danny, you don't need to give me the best. Sure it'd be fun to mess around with you inside Gordon or Officer Steele, but right now I want you to be in someone that makes me feel like it used to. I miss you, the real you."

"I guess I really did pick some bad ones today," the waiter chuckles, smiling with dimples in his cheeks, "I felt so manly and tough in Gordon; like I didn't give a shit about anyone except my man. In Steele I felt so cocky and sure of myself, and honestly a little too entitled to you. It's hard to realize if I'm in the wrong with each of these guys. In their heads, they all believe themselves to be right, and I can't help but think the same in the moment."

"I know," I sigh, frustrated by the influence these guys have over my ghost boyfriend, "How do you feel in Josh the waiter."

Danny perks up in the cafe worker's body. I have to admit that this guy's energy is infectious, and he's far from bad looking. His broad shoulders look perfect for hugging, and he smells faintly of coffee. I don't know how I never noticed him working here before. I must've been preoccupied, looking for ghosts, to miss a charming barista like Josh.

"I have to admit something," Danny says with Josh's sweet tone, "I've got a crush on you. Had it for awhile. You're the hot guy that always sits here during lunch."

"Well, I'd hope you have a crush on me. You are my boyfriend afterall," I snort.

"No, I, Josh, have a crush on you," he smiles.

"Oh," I'm at a loss for words. Somehow this feels like a whole new can of worms. I'm flattered, but unsure. Is it weird if I flirt with someone that has a crush on me while my boyfriend is inside them? They're both conscious right now, so it's genuine right? But am I really flirting with Josh as long as Danny is in there too. Does flirting with another guy while your boyfriend is possessing him count as cheating? I can't even keep track anymore.

I don't have time to think before Josh/Danny has rushed over and pulled me into his arms. It feels just as good as I imagined to be in the waiter's embrace, and it feels even better to kiss. This guy, this Josh, seems romantic, kind-hearted, and gleeful; he reminds me of what it was like when Danny was alive. Before I know it, my boyfriend/new crush is clocking out of work and leading me to his car, holding me close, and whispering in my ear, "Happy Halloween, babe."

I love the spooky season.

#gay possession #halloween #gay ai art #fall vibes #male mind control #blue collar worker #gay boyfriend #gay

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aliteralsemicolon · 9 months ago

Text

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 8.6K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

11:57 PM

Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it.

11:58 PM

The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you.

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored.

11:59 PM

It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue.

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”

12:00 AM

Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today.

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful.

12:31 AM

‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra.

“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe.

“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.

“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”

“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”

“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”

“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”

Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state.

12:56 AM

You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”

The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror.

2:07 PM

You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.

“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought.

“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.

“Um, sure”, you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little.

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.

“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around.

“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.

“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had.

“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen.

“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?”

“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?”

Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.”

“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive.

“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone.

He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”

3:42 PM.

You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything.

Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could.

The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him.

What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.

Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours.

“Emily!”

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.

“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”

Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”

You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.

“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.

Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.

“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.

You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.

Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.

“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.

You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.

4:03 PM

Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”

No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”

“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”

“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue.

“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”

As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.

“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise.

“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself.

The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”

Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”

“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.

“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?”

“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”

“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”

“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”

“What was off?”

“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”

You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that.

“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”

“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”

“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”

“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”

“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?”

You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place.

“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”

“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”

“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.”

She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off.

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now.

Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.

“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?”

“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.”

“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out.

“Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”

You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?”

“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay.

Spencer’s POV

It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.

“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon.

Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say.

“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”

Your POV

Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.

“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:

2:17 AM

“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided.

As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too.

Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?”

“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself.

“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern.

“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it.

He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”

Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?”

You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.”

“Are you sure?” Emily asks.

“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.

“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.

“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason.

“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.

You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again.

4:31 AM

Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.

“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?”

“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time.

“I’m not.” You persist.

“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.

“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”

“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.

“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.

4:55 AM

“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you.

Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.

“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-” He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.”

You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”

“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.”

“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.”

“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.

Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her.

Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark.

“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush.

“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay.

“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back.

“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.”

“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy.

“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes.

“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.

“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”

“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.”

“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.

“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around.

“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”

You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.

“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start.

“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events.

“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer.

“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.

“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”

“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly.

“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears.

“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand.

“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.

“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”

You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing.

The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to.

“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”

“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times.

“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.

“Spencer?” You say after a second.

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.”

“Always.”

Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other.

Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.

AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).

Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #ssa spencer reid #fem!reader #bau team #spencer reid fic #; fics

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 2 months ago

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Are LaDS Men V!rg!n Pre-Relationship with MC in LaDS present timeline?

Note: This is a personal take and observation in the LaDS men memories, short stories, phone call, messages, and etc. Nothing is confirmed by Infold and I maybe wrong/missed something from their memories. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Zayne - Yes

This is easy and Zayne confirms it himself. He mentioned that MC is his only experience. Although they are not romantically involve when they were still kids, (I strongly stress on this one as some creep send an anon message to me before that it is creepy to think that they have relationship pre-LaDS present timeline. Well They are not in a relationship. So hold your horses) I feel like he is strongly bound to her emotionally.

The need to protect her is strongly etched to him. Remember the wonderer attack when they are still kids?(Source: Nostalgic Sweetness) He wanted to cheer her up by freezing her melted popsicle. It maybe a crush or puppy love (whatever you wanted to call it) But this is his pure affection towards MC and he take it until he is an adult.

By the time they are reunited, they were awkward with each other but MC is the first one to show affection. She told him to not disappear again and constantly look up for him. I firmly believe that MC has crush with Zayne too because she remembers him well even with a blotchy memory.

Xavier - NO!!!

Before you kill me, just hear me out. Xavier's age is virtually unknown. For one, they never revealed it and two, Jeremiah was even uncomfortable about the topic of Xavier's age (source: Celestial Message). But who do I think he is been with? I Highly suspect that it is MC herself.

So how is his age and MC been related on him not to be a virgin, you say? Think about it this way, back when they Philos, it seems like (I feel like) he was already in a relationship with MC. That star ornament that MC is bothered about was from her (again not confirmed). And this previous/forgotten lifetime (by MC) they have already done it. Why else will he be so comfortable having very spicy and intimate time with her?

One of also the indication of them being intimate in the previous life was his being territorial with MC. He sometimes get a bit of Yandere vibe (I not really sure it its the correct type of dere to label him) but he kinds of a little bit rough when handling people who got overly close to MC. (Source: Myth and Celestial Message.)

Among all the LaDS men, he and Sylus shows sign in knowing what to do during the intimate moments.

Rafayel - Yes

Despite his flirty and confident demeanor, this baby is really a big baby! Don't get me wrong, he is not that innocent, he knows the deed (Source: gem Affection, Omnipotent perception, Your Fragrance, and Ebb and Flow) But he does not do the did, at least not yet.

Unlike Zayne and MC, who clearly hinted spending the night together (Source: Business Trip, Snowy Serenity, Hidden Motive and Moonlit Dream) Rafayel and MC after the kindled moment seems to be sleeping apart or Rafayel was out of the room or was fully dressed already (source: before Sunrise)

Some may argue that they already did it on "Gem Affection", they perhaps did, but what I'm infinitely having a debate with myself is, how Rafayel is kinda Distant again by "Into the Canvas". I don't mean distant physically, but him and MC is still do not seem in a relationship. They do not communicate well to establish plans in meeting up and he was just kinda following her around.

In the "Tailwag Moment" he was shocked and shy when he nuzzles MC. True it was kinda heated, but if you are already physically intimate with someone (specially guys) the awkward moment and hesitation to touch your lover disappears.

I also don't believe that Rafayel is a friends-with-benefit type of guy. This man is so devoted to MC and search for her when she disappears.

Sylus - Not Sure

Since Sylus was still fairly new compared to the other men, I do not have a strong assumption on whether he is a virgin or not. But if you ask how I personally feel about him, I will say yes, he is a virgin.

From here on out is just assumptions base on his current known memories.

Despite being rough and how he manhandles MC, he is actually giving me an Edward Cullen Vibe (OLD SCHOOL VIBE) Oh my gosh! I am old. Like Edward, Sylus have some heated moments with MC (mainly on Secret Times). Yes they are spicy, but it never really hinted that they pass more than heated make out.

We are also yet to see him kiss MC on the lips. And although, he already kiss her in the head, this is after he gave her a ring. (Thinking about a Victorian Type of Courting) He take her to dates, bring her food, give her flowers, and going on rides. I applaud Infold for creating Sylus as a guy who is mostly rough but he definitely have a sweet side.

He worries about MC, hum while cooking, and taking selfies with her.

I have mentioned this before in my previous entry, But Sylus never inappropriately touch MC. True he like to carry MC but never lays a hand in any parts of her other than her wrist. He also doesn't initiate her or gauge her into touching him.

His relationship with MC is Definitely HOT but not yet intimate.

As for previous partners, I don't think he have any as he is looking for MC as well.

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #sylus #sylus love and deepspace

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gilverrwrites · 8 months ago

Text

One bed trope but its Dick Grayson, and it's basically just pwp.

≈550 words, CWs: F!Reader, v fingering, dirty talk, pet-names: pretty girl, baby. Rating: 18+ MINOR DNI

Dick Grayson who graciously offers to take the floor, but not before joking; “Does this mean we’re sleeping together?” first, and enjoying the sheepish way you bite your lip and look away. Man, you’re cute when you’re flustered.

Dick Grayson who pretends to put up a fight when you say, “Don’t be silly, there’s plenty of space for both of us.” Knowing damn well, he wants nothing more than to be in that bed with you, close enough for your skin to brush together, for him to smell your sweet scent all night, to watch your restful face, even if it means he’ll spend most of the night uncomfortably trying to hide a semi.

Dick Grayson who notices the way your eyes linger just a little too long on his exposed chest when you come back from changing in the bathroom, the way you leave just a little too much space empty on your side of the bed in favour of lying closer to him, the way your body trembles when he breaths against the back of your neck.

Dick Grayson who sees the way you’re tossing and turning and seizes the opportunity to test the waters by placing his hand on your hip, his strong, calloused fingers splaying across your soft skin, massaging in circles until you’re purring under his touch. “Want some help relaxing?”

Dick Grayson who knows you’re putty in his hand but asks anyway “This okay?” as his fingers dip below your waistband, relishing in the fact that you’re already soaked for him. Who greedily swallows every pant and whimper as he slips his fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch out your tight little pussy. “Fuuuck- just sank right in there, you really wanted this, huh, pretty girl?”

Dick Grayson who can’t keep his eyes off of you, can’t get enough of the way your body shudders and reels as he finds that sweet spot inside of you, the way your mouth hangs open, jaw slaw, unable to keep quiet, the way your eyes can’t make up their mind between watching intensely as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, or rolling back every time he strokes your swollen clit.

Dick Grayson whose body sheens under the sliver of moonlight seeping through the curtains as he holds himself above you just high enough that you can feel his body heat radiating against you. "Does that feel good baby, tell me how that feels?”

Dick Grayson who coos and praises you like it’s his full-time job. “You look so good, all spread out for me.” Whose chest grows taut, who can’t stop grinning when he feels your walls twitching as your orgasm approaches. “Are you gonna cum for me baby, you gonna cum on my fingers?”

Dick Grayson whose cock is twitching, begging for action as he guides you through your climax, holding you by the hip to stop you from bucking away as he relentlessly attacks your clit, making sure you see stars as you hit your peak.

Dick Grayson who thinks you look hotter now than when he started, all hazy eyes, hair messy, chest rapidly rising and falling, body glowing.

Dick Grayson who represses the urge to suck on his fingers like a man possessed after making you cum, because he’s not done yet, because he promised to help you relax, because “I’m not stopping until you’re too fucked-out to do anything but sleep, that okay with you pretty girl?”

#dick grayson #nightwing #dc #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #smut #gilverrwrites #dick grayson/reader #imagine #1K

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amywritesthings · 6 months ago

Text

press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise.

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too.

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

— —

Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath.

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days.

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface.

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself.

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now.

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out.

Maybe your drink will be poisoned.

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own.

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out.

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t.

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling.

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks.

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.”

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement.

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.”

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink.

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.”

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully.

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder.

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow.

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought.

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?”

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top.

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave.

“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself.

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words.

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies.

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one:

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over.

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top.

His skin is smooth.

Heated.

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #snk x reader

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