#until they stand up and look at you and it clicks

[mggslover]

Unrequited love

In which reader has been haunted all her life by the ghost of unrequited love, always reminding her of everything she could never have. That is — until she met Spencer.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: angst x fluff x smut (18+) Content warnings: spoilers for s8e12, very angsty but no worries there's a happy ending Word count: 5,4k A/n: for anyone who can relate to not having their love reciprocated, I'm hoping you'll find your spencer reid soon

It’s stupid, really, to love someone so wholeheartedly. It’s even more stupid to expect them to love you back.

Never in your life had anyone reciprocated your love — hell, no one had even accepted it. Unrequited love was a burden that has clung to you all your life, a thread of rejection woven through the fabric of your earliest memories. 

You remember the moment clearly, when as a little girl you found your mother hunched over the dining room table, furiously wiping away tears she did not want you to see. You watched from afar, making sure she left the room when you tiptoed to the table, finding a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook. Your small finger traced the letters of the handwritten note. The words were jagged, some unfamiliar, making you skip them. You experienced a rush of pride and excitement when you could make out some words: leaving, sorry, woman, goodbye. It was the first time you’d read something that wasn’t written in the large colorful books Miss Abigail assigned in school. It wasn’t until a few days later, when your mother explained that your father wasn’t coming back, that the weight of the note fully sank in. From that moment on it felt like your fate was sealed. 

In middle school you had some friends, but when the moment came to pairing up for school trips, it was you being the one left out. You always had someone you would call your best friend, but you’d never be theirs. Someone always seemed to be better, more lovable, more wanted. 

In highschool, you got your first boyfriend, Timmy. You weren’t sure you loved him, but you wanted to be seen, to be noticed. So when he asked you out, you said yes. For a while, you reveled in the feeling of someone showing you off. That was until the day you overheard his friends, talking by the lockers.

“I swear, his tactic is working!” one of them said. “Jessica dumped James the second she saw Timmy walking hand in hand with Y/N through the hallways.” 

“Oh shit, man,” another friend laughed. “If I knew that, I also would’ve used a fake girlfriend to get to Hannah.” 

A fake girlfriend. The words echoed in your mind as you started to make sense of the situation. It suddenly clicked how Timmy only showed you off in public, only kissed you in the busy hallways, where people could see. It was never about you.

You decided to give love one more chance in university, but when a night that was supposed to be the first of many, ended in a one-night-stand and a “I’m sorry, but I don’t really see you that way”, you made yourself a vow: no more chasing love. You stopped giving your love to people who would never truly appreciate it, and instead, you gave that love to yourself. The library became your refuge, spending endless hours studying to give yourself the future you deserve. You passed your exams with flying colors and never forgot to reward yourself after every small victory. And when you landed a position at the BAU, making it as an FBI agent, you knew you made the right decision to never fall in love again. That was until you stepped into the office, and you saw him. Spencer Reid. 

—

“And this is doctor Spencer Reid,” your boss Hotchner introduced him with a nod. 

He was tall, awkward in the way only someone who was brilliant could be, but he smiled warmly as he waved a hand at you. “Hi.”

You smiled back and stuck out your hand instinctively. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

He blinked at the gesture, looking uncomfortable. He swallowed, his voice uncertain. “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t like shaking hands.”

You tilted your head and laughed. “That’s totally fair. Do you know how many germs your hands carry?”

His eyes widened in surprise, as if no one had ever said that before. “I-I actually do! The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to-”

“Kiss?” you interrupted, a grin spreading across your face.

The words came out simultaneously, and you both laughed. A sound that felt... easy. Like something you hadn’t experienced before.

Someone you would later come to know as Morgan, who had been leaning against a desk, looked up at the two of you, eyebrows raised in disbelief as he shook his head. 

It was then you realized — there was something special about Spencer Reid. It was something unspoken, something more than just the intellectual connection. Before you even knew it, you had fallen in love.

—

You never confessed your feelings to Spencer, but you felt like there was an unspoken understanding between you. Every morning, you arrived at work with an oversweetened cup of coffee for him, and in return, he made sure you never went without your favorite sandwich from the shop around the corner, especially on days when you were too absorbed in a case to remember to eat. On your days off, you took each other on trips. Sometimes to a museum where you would explain the art in great detail, and he would pretend not to know any of the facts, just to hear you talk. Other times, you’d go to a movie screening, where he would simultaneously whisper translations of the foreign dialogue to you, making you giggle when his breath tickled your ear. You convinced yourself that this was what love was: understanding someone to the point of not needing words.

But how foolish were you to have forgotten about the shadow that lingered behind you, always ready to remind you of everything you could never have.

—

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! Have you heard the news?” Penelope squealed in delight as she rushed toward you, the rhythmic click of her heels making a melody against the office floor. 

You glanced up from your desk, raising an eyebrow. “Based on the excitement, I’m going to assume you're not talking about the wildfires in California.”

“Oh no, no,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m talking about big news. The juicy kind.”

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair as you sipped your tea. “Alright Pen, bring it on.”

Penelope’s grin widened. “Spencer has a girlfriend!” She yelped, hands flying to her mouth as she realized just how loud she’s gotten.

You blink as you try to process her words. “He finally adopted a cat?” 

Penelope shook her head vigorously. “Y/N, I mean a real girlfriend. An actual human being girlfriend!”

You scrunch your forehead, the words not quite connecting. “I don’t think I understand.”

Penelope leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Derek told me that Blake told him that Spencer’s been making calls... to a woman.” She glances around quickly, making sure no one can overhear. 

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your smile drops at the familiarity of the situation. Spencer had been leaving the bullpen often recently. You’d always assumed it was because he was still struggling with his headaches and didn’t want the team to get worried. Not in a million years would you have expected Spencer was seeing someone.

Penelope continues speaking, but her words fade into the background as your thoughts spiral. “Excuse me,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you push yourself out of your chair and rush to the bathroom.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you. Your chest tightens, the familiar weight of a panic attack settling in as if it had never left. Your breath comes short and shallow, the room spinning slightly as you grip the sink. The air feels thick, suffocating even. For the first time in years you find yourself back in this situation, fighting to breathe.

—

After a while, the whispers and giggles about Reid's love affair had died down. Still, it took Spencer some time to feel comfortable enough to share more about her — Maeve Donovan, the brilliant, lovely woman who had stolen his heart. As his best friend, you were the one he turned to, the one who had to endure all the little details of their intimate phone calls.

And you tried, you really did. You tried to be the supportive friend, even when each word about Maeve felt like a thorn in your chest. You’d joke, asking him if he was sure Maeve wasn’t some sixty-year-old man catfishing him, or teasing him about how it didn’t count as a relationship if you’d never actually met the person. The snark was the only way you could cope with the sinking feeling every time he smiled when her name came up, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of her. But Spencer was oblivious to your remarks. No matter how hard you tried to plant seeds of doubt in his mind, it never seemed to have any effect.

It was a sad thing to admit, but on nights when anxiety kept you awake, you couldn’t help but wish for their relationship to end. You prayed for a chance to tell Spencer how you really felt. You convinced yourself there would be time, that everything was going well, and eventually you’d find the courage to speak up. But on nights like these, you deeply regret never having thought of the possibility of another girl realizing how incredible Spencer is, and making a move before you ever could. 

Those feelings of jealousy turned into big regret, when Spencer came bursting into the bullpen, panic and fear evident in his eyes. He was frantic, certain that Maeve had been kidnapped. His suspicions turned out to be tragically true, and your world crumbled the moment the gunshot rang out, taking Maeve from him. Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as Spencer broke down in front of you, and you couldn’t even reach out to comfort him, believing it was you who caused this. That the ghost you knew as unrequited love, finally gave you what you wished for. 

You wanted to scream, to turn back time, to take back every selfish thought. But now wasn’t the time for regret. When Spencer locked himself in his apartment, unwilling to speak to anyone, you made it your mission to be there for him. You were the only person he let in, and when the door creaked open, you were struck by the sight of him — pale, hollow-eyed, and worn down in a way you’d never seen before. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace. The two of you cried together, until his neighbor shouted at you both for the noise. From that moment on, you’d take Spencer to your apartment. Making sure he had a warm, homemade meal waiting for him as you’d binge Doctor Who episodes, trying to get him to smile even just a little. Slowly, he began to open up, the weight of his grief pouring out in quiet conversations. And you made sure you listened to every word as you held him close, offering whatever comfort you could.

As the weeks passed by, the weight of the situation was becoming overwhelming. It wasn’t easy hearing the love of your life talk about another woman. The way he spoke about her, like she meant more to him after just a couple of months than you ever did in all the years you stood by his side. It was almost too much to bear. When you overheard a moment between Reid and JJ, where Spencer mentioned how he would’ve had kids if it weren’t for Maeve dying, you realized you couldn’t keep going like this. You needed time to process what you were feeling, to grieve what you’d lost — even if it wasn’t really yours to begin with. So, you called in sick for the next case. Hoping you could clear your mind, while the team was out of state.

—

So here you were, experiencing heartbreak like all those times before — rotting on the couch with a pint of ice cream as you watched reruns of Love Island. 

You jumped when a loud banging echoed from the front door. Your surprise faded as quickly as it came, knowing there was only one person that would bother you this late an hour. 

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up!” Spencer’s voice rang out, firm and insistent.

With a sigh, you shuffled to the front door, trying to steady yourself before facing him. The moment you opened the door, you were met with Spencer, brows furrowed in concern and annoyance.

“Where were you? You didn’t show up on the jet, and you’re never late,” he said, brushing past you to step inside.

“Sure, let yourself in,” you muttered under your breath, closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t feeling well, had a headache,” you replied, keeping your tone casual.

Spencer paused, taking a quick glance around the room. His eyes landed on the TV blaring in the background and the half-empty pint of ice cream on the coffee table. He turned back to you, eyebrows raised.

“Your TV is on full blast, and you’re eating ice cream,” he said, his tone skeptical, clearly aware of your lie.

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, I just needed a break.” 

“A break?” He scoffed. “You never take breaks. We practically had to force you to stay home when you got shot. You’re always there, no matter what. I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

As much as you appreciated hearing that he needed you, this wasn’t the time to feel flattered by it. “Spencer, I know,” you started, your voice taut with frustration. “I just had my own things to worry about.”

“What things?” He stepped closer, his tone rising. “What could be more important than your work? Then being there for a friend when he needs you?” It was obvious how upset he was. “I was worried about you,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I called you every day, and you didn’t pick up.”

His words hit harder than you expected, and a bitter laugh escaped before you could stop it. “What about me, Spencer?” you snapped. “Have you ever thought about me needing a break? Or am I not important enough for that?”

“Oh, please.” His voice dripped with disbelief. “You’ve always been there for me, but suddenly you can’t pick up your phone because you need time for yourself?”

“God, you’re such an ass,” you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Me? I’m the ass?” His voice pitched higher, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yes, Spencer! I told you I wasn’t feeling good. I needed time off.”

“You could’ve just picked up the damn phone!” he yelled, his voice cracking with emotion. “Do you even realize how worried I was?”

“It sounds like you were more worried about yourself than me,” you countered, your tone icy.

His face twisted in frustration, but then his shoulders sagged. “Is that what you think?” He asked quietly, his voice trembling. “I was worried about you. Can you even imagine what it was like for me to call and get no answer?”

You swallowed. For a split second your mind drifted to Maeve, thinking that he might’ve felt the same fear as when she didn’t pick up the phone. You quickly put the thought away, he didn’t care about you like that.

“If you’d just asked Hotch, you would’ve gotten an answer right away,” you said defensively, crossing your arms to shield yourself.

“Oh, so Hotch knew?” His tone turned bitter, his eyes narrowing.

“Of course, Spencer. He’s my boss!”

“And I am your friend! I always tell you everything before I let anyone else know.”

You rolled your eyes, frustration taking over. “Well, that’s on you. Just because you feel the need to bother everyone with your problems doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

The instant regret was written all over your face as the words left your mouth. Spencer’s expression shifted, looking completely stunned.

“Spencer, I didn’t mean-”

But the damage was done. His shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightening as he looked away.

“Please, Spence, I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” you said softly, your voice trembling as you reached out to him, but he instinctively stepped back.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry,” you pleaded, your voice cracking. “I don’t know why I said that.”

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Oh, but you said it. And you meant it.” His voice was quieter now, but somehow it felt heavier. The anger in his eyes had faded, replaced with something worse: disappointment.

“Spencer,” you whispered, the sound barely audible, terrified to say anything else that could upset him.

He looked down, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled shakily. When he finally looked back at you, his expression had softened slightly, though the hurt still lingered in his eyes. “Do you really think I’m someone who bothers people with my problems?” he asked, his voice raw with vulnerability.

“No!” you said quickly, the desperation clear in your tone. “I don’t know why I said that. I don’t think that at all. I’m so glad you opened up to me and trusted me with your feelings.”

“And yet…” he trailed off, rubbing his temples in frustration. “You ignored my calls. You avoided me. And then you said that. Jesus.” His hands fell to his sides as he let out a tired sigh, his exhaustion etched into every feature.

“Spencer,” you started, but he interrupted. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking at you like he was searching for answers he couldn’t find. “If you’re glad I talk to you about my feelings, why did you shut me out?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question bearing down on you. “It’s just… a lot to handle, Spence,” you admitted. “I’m not a therapist. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings. I want to be there for you, I really do, but it takes a toll on me too.”

“It takes a toll on you too?” His voice rose, and you cursed yourself for triggering another outburst without meaning to. “I’m the one with ‘the problem’. I’m the one with the dead girlfriend! All you had to do was be there for me when I needed you.”

You exhaled heavily. “I’m getting a drink,” you muttered as you made your way over to the kitchen. Spencer followed behind you, not willing to give up yet.

“Of course,” Spencer said, with a sarcastic edge. “Grab a drink. That’ll fix everything.”

Ignoring him, you grabbed a glass and poured a generous amount of whiskey. You raised it to your lips, savoring the burn as you swallowed.

He crossed his arms, watching you with a raised eyebrow. “You know what? Go ahead. Keep ignoring the problem. That’s what you’re good at, right? Avoiding things.” He said, his tone filled with hurt. 

Your hand trembled slightly as you set the glass down. “I know you don’t believe me,” you said, voice shaking, “but I am trying.”

“Trying?” Spencer’s laugh was humorless. “You didn’t even call me. You just disappeared. I needed you, and you left. What kind of ‘trying’ is that?”

“God, Spencer, I didn’t want to avoid you. I wanted to pick up the phone, to explain everything, but I couldn’t. I knew I’d just hurt you more, and I couldn’t-” Your voice broke against your will. “I couldn’t risk ruining all the progress you’ve made.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his furrowed brow easing as confusion replaced his anger. “You’re not protecting me by keeping whatever it is that’s bothering you to yourself. You’re hurting me even more by shutting me out. I want to be able to help you when you’re struggling, Y/N.”

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill. You bit your lip, trying to hold your words in.

“Please,” he whispered, his hand gently taking yours. “Let me in. Let me help you like you’ve helped me.” 

You stared at him, your chest aching. How could you possibly tell him? How could you burden him with this truth when he was already carrying so much? But the way he looked at you, so desperate — it broke something inside you.

The words escaped before you could stop them. “I’m in love with you.”

Spencer froze, his heart skipping a beat as he loosened his grip on your hand, making you regret speaking up.

“You.. you’re in love with me?” He asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, guilt twisting in your chest.

He stared at you in silence, his gaze unreadable as he processed your words. After a long pause, he spoke up. “You’re sorry?”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded. “I’m an awful friend,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“No, no, no,” Spencer said quickly, stepping closer. His heart ached as he reached up to gently cup your face, brushing away your tears with his thumbs, hating to see you cry. “You are not an awful friend — you’re wonderful.”

“Don’t say that,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not wonderful, Spencer. I listened to you grieve every night, and still I felt jealous because she got your love, even if it was just for a second.”

His eyes widened. “Jealous?” he asked softly. “You were jealous of Maeve?”

You cringed at his words, shame tightening your chest. “I know, it’s disgusting. I get it if you never want to see me again.”

“Is that what you think? That I’d stop wanting to see you?” He shook his head. “How can you think I’d judge you for having feelings for me?”

“Because I blame myself, Spencer!” you cried. “I should’ve been happy for you, but I wasn’t. And now she’s gone, and I feel like it’s my fault.”

He closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for any of that. You didn’t make any of those things happen,” he reassured. “They were just… they were just an unfortunate turn of events. You didn’t have any control over it.” He held you tightly against him, trying to comfort you as his heart ached. 

“You shouldn’t touch me,” you sniffled, but you weren’t able to pull yourself away, needing his touch.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. “I should touch you,” he said firmly. “I should hold you, and comfort you, and be there for you. Because that’s what friends do. That’s what I want to do.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice quivering with emotion. “I did feel jealous, but please, don’t think for a second that I didn’t care. I’d do anything to bring her back.”

“I know you care,” he murmured into your hair. “I know you do. That’s why I could never think of you as a bad friend.”

You cried against his chest, the weight of everything finally crashing down. His arms tightened around you, his hold warm and grounding. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t be the one comforting me.”

“Yes, I should,” he said. His arms didn’t loosen, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish if he let go. “Your feelings matter. Your happiness matters. I don’t want you putting yourself aside for my sake.”

Something in his tone gave you the courage to lift your gaze. His eyes met yours, searching, filled with an emotion you hadn’t dared to hope for. Slowly, he reached out, his thumb brushing against your tear-streaked cheek with a gentleness that made your chest ache. 

“I mean it,” he said, his voice firm. “You matter to me, more than you probably realize.”

You leaned into his touch instinctively, the warmth of his hand calming you. “You can still talk to me,” you said quietly. “I just… I needed a break. But we can still have our talks.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I know. And I’ll take you up on that.” 

His hand remained on your face as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “I care about you. I always have, and I always will.”

The proximity was impossible to ignore as his thumb traced slow, soft circles on your cheek, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice quiet and pained, “for not realizing sooner how you felt about me.”

“It’s fine, Spence,” you replied, lifting your shoulders. “I should’ve been more obvious.”

He let out a quiet sigh, his heart heavy with remorse. “You were, I should’ve known. Penelope and JJ never treated me the way you did.” He admitted. “I wasted so much time. I could have had you, but I was too blind to see it.”

“You… you would want to be with me?” you asked, surprise noticeable in your voice.

His eyes softened, his expression filled with disbelief. “Of course I would. How could I not? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re caring, you’re beautiful...” His voice dropped to a tender hum. “You’re everything.” 

You looked away, as doubt crept in. “You’re just confused,” you said. “I gave you a lot to process all at once.”

“I’m not confused,” he said steadily, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not about this. I know how I feel. I know that it’s you that I want.”

Your heart ached at how convincing he sounded, but you couldn’t stop your uncertainty. “You’re not over her, Spence.”

The mention of Maeve made him swallow, his gaze flicked downward for a moment. “I know,” he said quietly, as he looked up at you. “I know I’m not completely over her. I may never be. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “It doesn’t feel fair,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted you for so long. It doesn’t feel fair that I get to have you now.”

Spencer gently pulled you closer, the simple comfort of having you in his arms overwhelming. “You deserve everything, Y/N. You’ve been there for me through everything. You’re one of the most selfless, most loyal, most caring people I know.” 

The warmth in his gaze, the tenderness in his touch, made it impossible to look away.

“I need you,” he said, his voice a raw confession. “Not talking to you these past days was torture. I can’t do this without you. I need you in my life, Y/N. Not just as a friend.” He paused, his voice softening. “You deserve to be loved, please let me be the one to do that.”

You felt your breath catch, not finding the words to express how you’re feeling. “Can I kiss you?”

His lips parted in surprise, but his eyes softened, filling with an emotion that made your chest ache. He nodded, “Yes. Please.”

His hands were warm against your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was everything — urgent, raw, and filled with years of unspoken longing. A soft, desperate sound escaped your throat, conveying all the need you’d kept bottled up for so long. Spencer seemed to feel it, deepening the kiss as his fingers threaded into your hair, afraid you might slip away.

He effortlessly lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his body fitting perfectly between your legs as you wrapped them tightly around his waist. The closeness wasn’t enough to satisfy your need. Your fingers found his tie, fumbling to loosen it before letting it fall to the floor.

As you moved to the buttons of his shirt, Spencer groaned softly against your lips, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. The moment your hands met his bare skin, his breath hitched, and his grip on your hips tightened. The heat of his body was intoxicating, and every inch of him seemed to respond to your touch.

“God, Y/N…” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and filled with desire. His forehead rested briefly against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath. But his hands never stopped, sliding down your sides and pulling you even closer.

You continued your exploration, your fingertips tracing the planes of his chest and shoulders as if trying to memorize him. 

You’d always imagined taking your time when this moment finally came — savoring every touch, every kiss. But now that it was happening, you couldn’t stop the rush coursing through you. The need to feel him everywhere, to prove that this was real.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered against his mouth, your voice filled with desperation.

“I know, sweet girl,” he murmured, knowing exactly what you needed. His hands slid down to your thighs, gently parting them to make room for himself. The warmth of his touch had you gasping, and you let out a quiet cry of relief as his fingers moved to his belt, the soft clink of the buckle filling the air.

You didn’t want to waste any time, tugging your pants down your legs in a frenzy, eager to meet him halfway. Spencer’s gaze flickered to yours, his eyes dark with need, and in an instant, his mouth was on yours again.

His kiss was hungry, consuming. One hand gripped your waist, holding himself steady, while the other hooked beneath your leg, lifting it effortlessly to pull you closer. The heat between you is overwhelming, every touch igniting yet another spark. 

You threw your head back as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wet folds. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he slowly pushed into you, the stretch intoxicating. Your fingers gripped his back as you sunk your nails into his skin.

The sharp bite of pain drew a low, guttural groan from him, his face buried in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot against you as he murmured your name like a prayer.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you gasped, as he began to move, his hips rolling into yours. 

His breath hitched at your words, and he pressed a soft kiss to your jawline. “I know, baby,” he mumbled. “We’ll make up for it,”

A soft giggle escaped you, but it was quickly swallowed by a moan as his pace quickened. 

“Oh, Spence… I’m already close,” you confessed, never having reached an orgasm this fast.

“Thank God,” he groaned, his voice rough with desperation, as his grip on your hips tightened. He guided you to meet his thrusts, the intensity of his movements growing erratic, overwhelmed by pleasure. 

Unable to resist, you cupped his face, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss as you moaned and gasped for breath. 

Your walls clenched around him, drawing a string of desperate whimpers from your lips as your head fell back. Spencer took full advantage of your exposed neck, sucking and biting on the skin, claiming you. His thrusts grew deeper, determined to hit the spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

His low, breathy moans filled the air, and you could tell he was close. Your legs began to shake around him, and as if perfectly in sync, your release crashed over you just as he shuddered and spilled into you.

“I love you,” you gasped, the words leaving your lips over and over as your orgasm rushed through you. Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. You couldn’t tell if it was the sheer intensity of the feeling or the flood of emotions you’d been bottling up for so long, but what you did know is that you meant every word.

Spencer stayed close, his breaths uneven as he gently rocked into you, drawing out the shared high. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to brush your hair out of your tear-streaked face. His eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he truly saw you — every part of you.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you too.”

[0mg-bird]

bombshell of the bau was soo good, I need more of those two pls!!!

Aghhhhhh thanks! Okay, upon popular demand, here’s a part two.

Bombshell Of The BAU~ Part II

Spencer Reid x Fem!Agent Reader

Summary: With all the attention you get, it’s hard to hide something as scandalous as what you and Spencer have going on. Often times, it comes down to stolen moments and too close calls.

But you don’t expect the team to find out the way they do.

Warnings: Tehehehehe. Okay, 18+ content, suggestive material, smut, MDNI, um they’re so cute! Morgan being a c!ck block on like too many occasions, slight voyeurism kinda?? Exhibitionism kinda? Two second mention of Reid’s addiction. Reader gets hurt by UbSub but she’s fine. Idk, enjoy.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Emily asks as she walks with you down the hallway.

You pull the clip from your hair so it softly falls down around your face. A sigh leaves your pouty lips that are long gone of lipstick.

“After the day I had? I’d much rather take a very long shower, order room service on Hotch’s dime and watch Sex and The City.”

Emily laughs. “That sounds pretty perfect to me. Hey, did Morgan really make you crawl up in that attic?”

A shiver runs through you. “I don’t want to relive that trauma.” You claim.

She rubs your arm affectionately. “Well, you try your best to recover.”

“I’m a fighter, I’ll be okay.” You say dramatically, flicking your hair out of your face.

Emily drops you off at your door. “Call me if you need anything.” She says.

“Aw, sugar, I can always count on you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, the way you always do as a goodbye to your female agent friends.

You dig the room key from your pocket and press it into the slot. Though, you don’t push the door open, you instead look to the elevator where Emily disappears in, headed down to the lobby where most of the team resides.

When the coast is clear, you briskly turn further down the hall, passing multiple doors until you come to stand at the right one. Sparing another glance over your shoulder, you raise your knuckle to the wood.

The door opens after two knocks, and that arm raised in the air is grabbed and tugged, making you fall swiftly into the room.

You let out a soft giggle, though it’s cut off by an equally smiley kiss.

The door clicks shut behind you as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Spence.” You sigh dreamily against him. “Long time, no see, handsome.”

He pulls back to look down at you, that lopsided smile you love so much, playing on his lips.

“I saw you this morning at the station.” He reminds, letting his hands roam up your sides to hold your face.

He’s learned how to be comfortable in his actions, knowing now that you aren’t going to push him away when he reaches out. For three months, the two of you have been hiding this well kept secret, and maybe it was wrong to keep something like this from the team but…

Both you and Spencer agree that it’s nice, having something to yourselves.

So that’s why the two of you steal away any moments you can, like being on the same hotel floor after solving a case.

You give a pout. “But I’ve been stuck with Morgan all day. He was so cruel to me.”

Spencer matches your rutted lower lip. “Oh, he was cruel, huh? How was he cruel, angel?”

You love it when he calls you that.

Your hand slips into the hair on the back of his head, it’s definitely gotten a little longer.

“Made me follow him all around town, boosted me up into an icky crawl space to search for evidence.” You explain, trying to kick your heels off.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Spencer jokes, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“It was a miserable, miserable day.” You sigh, dropping a few inches in height once your shoes are off. “But I’m here now and let me tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Spencer gets that slight blush he always does. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Instantly, lips are parting and he’s tasting that unique-to-you taste of your tongue. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but after awhile, he’s addicted to that sweet flavor that lingers on your lips.

You sigh and melt into him, ready to forget about all the work the two of you went through today. Taking your hand, you grasp one of his and bring it down to your belt. He gets the hint, then quickly tries to get you out of the clothes you can’t bear to be in any longer than you need to be.

While you pull his tie loose, he pulls the concealed carry holster from where it was tucked inside your waist band. He sets it on the nearby table, then pulls your shoulder holster off. You chuckle against him as you pull his own fire arm off and join it with the other two.

“So many guns.” You comment.

Without a risk in the way, he untucks your blouse. “Occupational hazard.” He adds.

Slowly, articles of clothing are making a home on the floor, and once you’re down to your underwear, you’re falling onto the bed with a laugh.

“You’re on my hair.” You wince.

“Sorry.” He adjusts, gripping your waist as he flips the two of you over.

Knees on either side of his hips, you’re free to do the thing you’ve been thinking about all day. Your favorite thing is the little gasp Spencer gives you when you first create a dizzying friction against him. You absorb it with your mouth on his, hands on his cheeks, manicured nails slightly pressing into his skin. You still haven’t figured out what flips inside of you, or what it is exactly that he does that makes your brain think ‘I want to eat him’.

“What time are we flying out tomorrow?” You ask, placing his hands on your hips.

His fingers flex into your skin, and drags you against his lap.

“7:00.” He answers, knowing how much you hate early mornings, and long flights home.

“I have a bone to pick with that Hotchner guy, I think he’s out to get me.” You huff. “He ships us out when the sun comes up, he puts me with Morgan all day, and he never lets me hang around when you’re doing paperwork in the briefing room.”

Spencer, much more brave now, trails his lips down your jaw and neck.

“That’s because you’re distracting.” He states.

You gasp. “I am helpful!”

“Helpful when you have your hand between my legs under the table?”

You giggle. “I’m helpful in more ways than one, baby, and you are no better than me.”

With a slight disbelief of his eye, he pulls away from tracing your pulse with the tip of his tongue, and shakes his head at you.

“How am I no better?”

You slightly tug at the ends of his hair. “Spence, you almost got us caught when you shoved me into the conference room on your lunch break and Emily was looking all over for me.”

He smirks, feeling all too proud of himself for that bold move. “It was my lunch break…I was having lunch.”

Ever since Spencer learned how much he enjoys his face between your thighs, it’s like he’s a junky all over again and can only go so long without making you fall apart for him. You remember thinking that there was no possible way the two of you could get away with it as he pushed your skirt up and sat you on the edge of the table, kneeling before you. You also remember thinking this was one of the hottest things he has ever done.

In the beginning, you were worried that he thought you only wanted sex. The sex, it’s great, it’s …well, it’s wow. But being with Spencer means laughing more than you ever have, spending days off together, holding his hand in public and going to as many bookstores as he likes. It’s all so much more than you ever had before.

At work, it’s the same as it’s always been, you shamelessly flirt and Spencer, being the victim of your sultry ploys, keeps stumbling his words and hardly ever raises red flags.

Sure, the team noticed that he’s a little more out of his shell, has more confidence about him, but they just think he started believing all those compliments you tell him. In all actuality, he just feels proud that he has someone like you in his life, whose socks end up in his laundry and who leaves lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts.

Fingers trace up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin as they aim for the clasp of your bra. He’s getting pretty good at undoing the hooks.

But just before he can try to beat his time, a knock comes from the door.

The two of you pause, your lips pull back, your fingers leave his hair.

“What do we do?” You whisper.

Panting slightly from the lack of oxygen he receives when your tongue is slotted to his, he just shrugs. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Just like that, your hips continue their motion and he’s going to free your chest.

Another knock.

“Reid, it’s Morgan.” The voice comes.

Spencer lets out a rather irritated huff, his eyes shut as he swallows hard, willing the man to just go away.

“Reid! Open the door.”

Nope, he’s not leaving.

“Son of a bitch.” He grunts.

“Oh, watch that dirty mouth, Doctor.” You tease as he pulls you off his lap.

He stands, running through mathematical formulas to try and calm down in his boxers. He scoops up a sweatshirt that lays on the back of the desk chair and pulls it on. In a panic, you roll off the bed and hide behind it on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Reid-”

Spencer pulls the door open. “What?” He snaps.

Derek is surprised by his bluntness, but he takes in his disheveled appearance and is more confused.

“What were you doing?” He asks.

“R-reading.”

Derek looks at his bare legs. “Without pants on?”

Go away, go away, go away.

Spencer breathes out. “I was about to take a shower. Now, what’s up?”

Morgan folds his arms over his chest. “Everybody is downstairs, don’t be a loner up here.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m pretty tired so uh, I’m gonna turn in.”

Morgan looks at him for a moment too long. “You sure you’re okay? You seem…flushed.”

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” He reassures.

Laying face down on the carpet for a few minutes while the two men hash out whatever it is Morgan needed to, you come to the realization that you’re actually exhausted. By the time Spencer finally gets Derek to leave, you’re sitting yourself back up on the bed with a frown.

“What is it?” His brows furrow as he sees your expression.

Never have you ever had a partner so attentive, so loving in every touch they gave you. But Spencer runs his fingers through your hair as you tell him how you long for sleep, and he reassures you that it was okay you weren’t in the mood anymore.

He brought your bag from your room to his, though you truly just fell asleep in a t shirt and panties.

In the morning, you pretend you were in your room the entire night, and you meet the team in the lobby, fresh faced and ready to fly home.

“What’s your plans for this weekend?” Morgan asks after discussing with Emily what she’ll be doing.

You, who is currently taking up too much space on the couch, look over at the pair and shrug.

“I’ll have you know I have a very hot date with my bathtub when I get home and a very big plan to clean my apartment.”

That was all a lie.

You’d be over at Spencer’s this weekend, you’d be spending all your time with him, acting like a normal couple in public, having dinner and he’d get flustered when you’d kiss him in public.

But the team can’t know that.

Spencer comes back from the back of the jet, only to see his spot on the couch has been taken by your legs. He stares at you for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” You innocently question.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to.” He nods, watching you smirk.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please?”

You sit upright, planting your feet on the ground. “Always so eager to beg.”

Emily laughs, Spencer goes red in the face.

To them, it’s exactly how it always has been between the two of you.

He sits beside you, not too close, but your fingers twitch to reach over and touch him. Your nails go to your mouth instead to keep them busy.

Without truly paying attention, Spencer reaches over and tugs your hand away from your mouth and instead hands you a sucker he pulled from his bag.

It’s such a domestic act that though there’s nothing too suggestive about it, Emily notices. She clocks the behavior as something a little odd. Sure, you and Reid have always been close but since when has he carried around things for you?

Truly, you should’ve known that Emily would be the first to suspect something, but you continued on blissfully, believing that the team was so caught up in everything else that they wouldn’t catch what was happening right under their noses.

“The station was able to get us last minute rooms but there’s only four available, some of us are going to have to double up.” Hotch says nearly a month later on a case in a small Texas town you were only supposed to be in for the day.

But when the case turned into something far more complicated than anticipated, the team opted to stay for a bit longer.

The team shares a few looks as Hotch holds the motel room keys in his hand, all knowing that he wasn’t about to bunk in with Rossi anytime soon.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan declares as he begins to feel like it’s going to be assumed. “Make the girls share a room.”

All three of you begin to protest, knowing you’re fine with sharing but not fine with Morgan making that decision for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

JJ, always such a leader, looks to you. “If you and Prentiss want to share, I’ll bunk with Reid.” She sighs.

Spencer starts feeling like he’s a child again, watching his parents talk about custody, knowing one parent truly doesn’t want him.

The suggestion, though innocent, has your nails pressing into your palms. It’s a terrible idea in your mind, because here is a chance to stay with your golden boy for the night and it’s getting taken away.

“I’ll stay with Spencer, I don’t mind. Is that okay with you, Spence?” You turn to look up at him, innocent smile, sultry eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Fine- it’s fine with me…I’ll take the floor.” He stutters awkwardly, sealing the deal with a cricked smile that’s very Spencer Reid.

Hotch narrows his eye as he hands you a room key. “Keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“How can I when he just makes it so easy?” You joke, taking the key.

As you grab your bag, Morgan begins to uncontrollably laugh.

“Go easy on him.” He jokes. “He’s a romantic.”

“Morgan.” Reid sighs, following behind you.

“You have a fun sleepover! Hey, you still got that whistle? Yell fire if she gets to be too much!”

I glanced back at Morgan, shaking your head before looking to Spencer. “Come on, lover boy, I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” He mutters.

“Only sometimes.”

Hotch prays he’s not going to get an email from HR. He’s already hearing it from Strauss, a meeting needs to be set up for inappropriate conduct between coworkers, and everyone knows Garcia and Morgan aren’t the only ones to blame, not when you’re addressing Spencer as ‘handsome genius’ in work emails.

The door clicks shut and you turn the lock, letting out a sigh and taking in the modest room, everything decorated in a dated western fashion.

“Were you serious about taking the floor?” You ask, causing him to look back over to you.

“If you want me to, yes.”

Bless him and his gentleman qualities, it has you wanting to jump him in the most passionate way.

“Now, why would I want you to be down there when I’ll be up in the mattress all alone? Here I thought you had a high IQ.” You tease, opening your go bag. “You mind if I shower? You could join me if you want.”

The offer is tempting.

“I better stay here in case someone comes knocking, might be a little suspicious if we’re both dripping wet at the same time.” He says, feeling proud that he still can think logically, though it’s far too hard when you’re around.

A smirk pulls at your soft lips. “I thought I was the only one who knew anything about being dripping wet.”

Spencer becomes flush, his cheeks burning as he says your name, prompting you to stop your explicit behavior.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just so easy.” You come to kiss his jaw before finding your way to the bathroom.

The shower is warm and the low light in the bathroom is soothing, you rinse clean and shampoo your hair, making the steam smell like your scent. Spencer browses the minimal television selection, then fights his urge to unmake the bed because he knows you’ll want to adjust the blanket and sheets a certain way.

“The water pressure is surprisingly good.” You say after about fifteen minutes, coming out, releasing that waft of steam.

Toweling your hair, you come back to your bag to find your various travel lotions, though you don’t get very far because Spencer is looking at you like you just hung the moon.

“What?” You ask, slightly adjusting your robe with an unsure smile.

He smiles softly. “I just…it’s unfair how beautiful you are in every form.”

Your heart swoons like it always does when he’s around.

“You have no room to talk, mister.” You remind, abandoning the skin care and come to stand between his knees that he parts for you.

Your finger traces the line of his jaw as his hands gently place on the backs of your thighs.

“You’re so sexy with your hair pushed back like this. Did you start wearing it like this because you knew it would drive me crazy?” You ask coyly, half teasing, running your fingers through it.

“It’s getting long.” He says.

“Nonsense, I love it.”

“You love everything.”

“I love you.”

The two of you pause. Those are three words you haven’t exactly expressed often. It’s been said, in a ramble from Spencer where it just came out and you had beamed up at him like you’ve won a prize.

Now, you say it with certainty, and he wants to hear it again.

“I love you.” You say with more intensity, leaning down to where you have his face in your hands, holding him there as you kiss him.

“I love you too.” He mumbles against your lips.

You don’t pull away when he slowly reaches for the tie of the silky robe, you’d never reject him.

He’s already lost his shoes and socks, his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but he loses more as you help him. Further up on the bed, you let the open robe fall off your shoulders, not feeling bashful as he studies you with his eyes.

Spencer could never look at you in anything other way than adoration.

“Hotch is dumb.” You decide in his lap, placing his hands on your hips.

“We’re taking advantage of the situation.” Spencer declares, face falling to your shoulder as you sink further down onto him.

“I feel no remorse.” You breathe.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, the first time was a long time coming and it was perfect. So gentle and warm and everything the two of you craved. You laid in his sheets and traced the freckles on his skin and it’s a moment you think of often because you often don’t get them.

Now, you have a moment and are seizing it.

“You okay?” You ask with the drag of your hips.

“You’re heavenly.” Spencer proclaims, tasting the clean skin of your neck.

“Spence.” You gasp, getting the hang of a rhythm. “Fuck.” The word leaves your lips as soon as he thrusts up into you.

You and Spencer have always worked well together so this is no different.

It’s addictive, the feeling stirring in you, the shear pleasure washing over him. He knows a thing or two about addiction and he can confidently say that you make him feel far better than any needle in the vein did.

At some point, with your hands in his hair, mouth hot against his, and his grip moving you how he wants…

Your phone rings.

At first, you do your best to ignore it, but it continues in an annoying fashion.

“No.” You plead, trying to chase that oncoming feeling.

“Who is it?” Spencer breathes heavy as you reach for the device.

“Emily.”

His head falls in defeat, movements slowing, prompting you to answer.

You do your best to not sound aggravated as Emily asks if she can bring dinner by, but the idea of a burger does sound nice.

“Yeah, we could eat.” You state, free hand over Spencer’s mouth to keep him quiet as your slow movements continue.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Emily states in a kind yet suspicious tone.

“Will do, thanks Em.”

You throw the phone away, overwhelmed and determined to reach the high that was slowly slipping away.

“I hate our team sometimes.” You determine, frustrated that you lost momentum.

Not so gently, Spencer adjusts you to be on the mattress, taking over when you threaten to call off the entire idea because there was a stumble in the step.

“They should just know not to call on the off chance two coworkers are breaking HR rules.” He jokes, entering you without hesitation, making you gasp out.

The roll of his hips is slowly bringing you back to the precipice at a dangerously fast rate, leaving your legs to shake a touch.

“Emily is going to be here soon.” You stress, digging your skull into the pillow.

“We’ll be done before then.” He assures, reaching his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a hot friction.

“Emily could stand here and watch for all I care.” You state, pleading for a release. “I just- I need it, baby, please.”

“I know, I know, angel, you’re going to get it.”

How could a man be so soft when he’s doing such dirty things to you? It’s a mystery you’ll never quite understand, but Spencer has always been a wonder, so this is to be expected. He’s coaxing you to the finish, letting you suck on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

And when it happens after the build up of waiting for weeks, it hits like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless, open mouth gasping silently for air. Spencer is shuddering and pressing his face into that space between your jaw and collar bone.

You half expect a phone call, some kind of urgent message that will ruin this moment but nothing comes. It’s just you and Spencer.

At some point after getting cleaned up, you lay side by side, limbs tangled. Your eyes threaten to shut at the way he traces the shape of your face.

“Sometimes I’m just waiting to wake from this dream.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear.

You hum. “It’s not a dream, that’s what makes this so great.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head down to brush his nose to yours. “Sometimes I think it is, because in what reality am I really the person you choose?”

You don’t like that, it obvious on your face. “I’d choose you in every universe, even if you don’t choose me.” You say sternly, a hand pushing his hair back.

He likes when you’re genuine. Well, you’re always genuine, but you also always have a face on, one of coyness and humor. When you’re like this, emotionally bare, he likes you the most.

“I’d never not choose you.” He states before turning to kiss your wrist.

You want to comment about how romantic he is without trying, but Emily knocks like you knew she would.

The two of you spring up, thankful you’re already dressed. You take a calming breath as you head to the door, and Spencer quickly tries to straighten the wrinkled sheets.

Emily isn’t dumb, she knows something is different, but she truly doesn’t suspect anything yet, which is questionable because she has a perfect view of signs that indicate adult activities when she comes in to deliver the burgers.

She goes and tells JJ that the two of you act different, a little more guilty, but Emily doesn’t know for sure until a completely different scenario comes about.

Two weeks later, when you’re sent into a living nightmare. Hotch makes the call to send you into the Unsub’s house alone first, you do it without hesitation because that is just how you do your job when it comes to the life or death of three missing children.

“House is clear, I’m going down to the basement.” You say into the com on your vest, confirming your safety to the team.

But you speak too soon, the Unsub does something the profile was wrong about. Hotch sent you in there because he suspected the man to be submissive to confident women of higher standard.

Though you were cautious, you weren’t expecting the Unsub to attack you at first chance.

You do your best to fight back and get the kids free, but you’re completely blindsided. Who knows what would have happened if SWAT and the team didn’t storm in when they did.

When you sit in the back of the ambulance, in shock, a paramedic cleaning up the gash on your forehead, Spencer is there with concern and comfort.

“The kids?” You ask.

“They’re safe, they’re going to be okay.” He reassured, holding your hand between both of his.

“I didn’t…I should’ve-“

“Shh.” He frowns. “You did good, angel, everything’s alright. Do you feel okay?”

Your brows draw and you shake your head. “I don’t feel well. Do I look well?”

“You have a concussion, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Am I still gorgeous?” You ask in a dreamy voice.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He assures, cradling your cheek. “You’re just gorgeous with a head injury that you’re going to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Your eyes shut as you hum, the warmth of his palm runs through you. The two of you embrace gently, completely forgetting how casual you are supposed to be appearing.

The team sees it now, of course they do.

You’ll have to explain the secret you’ve been hiding from them later, but now you’re just listening to Spencer’s voice murmur to you, wrapped in his FBI jacket, fighting the urge to adjust his hair.

[mygayasslovesbluealiens]

ʚDAD!SWANSEA X GN!READERɞ + ❀DAISUKE X GN!READER❀

SUMMARY : your dad gets a job in space and returns a bit different, though, at the dinner table he meets someone familiar.

WARNINGS : SPOILERS!!! A little angst.

WORD COUNT : 2,394

A/n : I wrote this cuz some of y'all loved this idea. I didn't edit it so there might be some mistakes.

Click "Keep reading" for more!❀ʚɞ☟

You and your dad had an unbreakable bond. Ever since you came to the family, that man was attached to you by the hip.

He was a typical dad, throwing dad jokes around, carrying you around his shoulders, hanging your silly drawings on the fridge. Yeah, it was safe to say that he made you feel loved.

When your younger siblings came you were more than excited, you tried your best to suppress your happiness when your dad put your baby sister in your arms.

Just a child carrying a baby, how cute, your parents cooed at the sight.

But your dad never stopped giving you attention when your siblings were born, a matter of fact he tried his best to get you to bond with them, and it worked.

The more you grew up, the more you started discovering yourself. Everyday you'd find yourself a new hobby, and that hobby of yours started to show more in your teen years.

Your dad was actually thrilled but didn't show it. Like, one day you made him lunch, the second day you sculpted him, the other day you made him a scarf. Dam, he was proud.

School competitions? Yeah you joined them, and somehow won each single one (just imagine Swansea standing next to you with a smug grin on his face as he looks at the parents of the other contestants).

Then it hit him, it hit your dad that you weren't a child anymore, you were 17, your birthday in a few months. He was a bit heartbroken but knew that's how life is. You reassured him that you'll frequently visit them.

And that's how it went, you moved out, got a job, and started living your own life. But since you never really had any friends besides your co-workers, you payed frequent visits to your family. It was great, sitting at the dinner table and talking about your life and job.

Your mom did ask you about your dating life, it got a little heavy on you, but you did tell her that you were 'waiting for the right moment' and she let go of it.

At the mention of your job, your dad brought up the topic of his new job that he had applied to recently, apparently he was going to be a mechanic in a tulpar or something.

It... Something felt wrong, your gut was telling you that there was something wrong with what your dad had applied to. You brushed it off as you had nothing to say about it.

Until that day came, the day your dad left for the job. Before he went he spend a good time around you and your siblings. You made sure to hug him tight before he left, he joked about wanting to find a grandchild when he comes back from the job, which made your mom and sisters tease you about it.

Then he left...

For a few months nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You leave for work, hang out with your colleagues then visit your family. Nothing unusual.... Right?

It was when you stepped inside your family's home, a box of baked goods in your hands as you sat on the couch. Your sister practically snatched the box out of your grasp and inhaled half of the box's content.

You really didn't care as an uneasy feeling crept up your stomach. Brushing it off you looked at your mom who was busy on her phone. Taking a hold of the remote, you scrolled through channels, from one to the other. You kinds zoned out a bit, snapping back to reality when your mom dropped her phone, staring at the TV with a mortified expression. Looking at the TV screen, the colors on your face drained as you listened to the reporter's words.

The tulpar went missing...

Without missing a beat, you rushed to the bathroom and threw up from shock.

Why... Didn't you stop him from going?...

We're you scared that you'll come off as paranoid?...

Scared that you'll come off as clingy?...

Scared of disappointing your dad?...

Now look, he's now in the middle of space, in the middle of god knows where with limited food and resources to survive!

You were disappointed in yourself, you could've stopped him but you didn't.

After the incident, you quit your job and moved back to your old home to support your family. It wasn't easy, just thinking about what might've happened to your dad made you sick.

You'd gotten yourself a new job near your home. You were in control of the house now. Your mom became less energetic than she used to be, but you didn't care, you let her rest and have some time for herself.

As for your younger sisters, they started skipping school a lot, you went to the school yourself, to try to explain the situation to the school council to at least have some empathy for your sisters.

It was a draining job, you felt yourself become less and less bubbly than what you used to be. Your manager noticed it and decided to give you a break.

You wanted to cry, everything about this was overwhelming. You missed your dad, the guilt was eating you alive. Why did things go so wrong?

And that became your routine, maybe drive your sisters to school, comfort your mom, do your chores then lay on bed and cry yourself to sleep.

It was like your hope was completely shattered. You became more depressed those passing days, neglecting your own needs as you were busy helping out your family. Your mom took notice and tried helping you, pulling herself together so you can at least have a rest from all of this.

But what did you know? No one knows where your dad is, and it's your fault. You could've stopped him. But here we are.

Now you laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling just hoping something good would happen to at least give you some motivation to stay alive.

A slam from the door made you jolt up. You looked up to find your mom looking sweaty and rushed. When she saw you she screamed at you to get in the car. Absolutely freaked up, you sat in the passenger seat as she drove.

You were sure the police would pull you over at any moment by how fast your mom was driving, maybe crash into a few cars, but she didn't and that was good.

When she parked the car you found yourself at a hospital. Your mom dragged you there with her as she went to the elevator. Now inside, she stood there, shaking up. You wanted to ask her what had happened but didn't as your voice was stuck inside.

As soon as the elevator door open, you were dragged again to a room. Your heart was beating fast, your body sweating a bit from anxiousness.

The nurses let you inside the room. Scanning the room, you felt your jaw drop, there was your dad, sitting on the hospital bed with his left eye remaining and a scar on his forehead. Your eyes became hot with tears as your legs made you move to your father.

You immediately dropped your head on his lap as you sobbed. You felt like a kid again, as if you've woken up from a nightmare and went for your parents for comfort.

I mean... It was some sort of nightmare....

You managed to calm down a little. You felt your dad's hand on your head, patting you.

Moving to sit on the chair that the nurse provided you with, you looked up, seeing your dad stare at you.

"So, any grandchildren?..." You started crying again.

Your mental health have started to get better when your dad came back, your younger sisters were sobbing hard when they saw dad alive and well.

Seeing everything now back to normal, you suggested you move out again since you've done your job, but you had no other choice as you were forced to stay by your parents.

Now in a better mental state, you quite your job and got a new one at a cafe. You enjoyed your time there with your new co-workers. The customers were nice as well. It's as if a weight was lifted off your back.

Working at that cafe, you've met many lovely customers, but one had caught your attention. He came to the cafe every week, would order something then sit at one of the tables and do his thing.

He had brown hair, brown eyes, a scar in the middle of his face and some moles. He was cute. Wait what.

You never had an eye for anyone, so whys a random guy that visits your cafe suddenly cute? Weird...

Whatever, but these days, you've noticed something about him, he never orders, unless you were the one taking orders, you also noticed how he'd always tip you, despite your job paying you well. Does he.. Like you?.. Nah there's no way.

It was raining heavily outside, there was barely any customers, so you took your time to clean up the tables. You then made your way back to the register, made yourself something to drink as you waited for a customer.

Soon, the door bell rang, looking up from your phone you found no other than... Him.

"Hi what can I get for you?.." God your tone sounded rude, gotta work on that voice..

"Oh hey uhh, the usual you know.." He said awkwardly, scratching his head before looking away, sliding the cash on the surface of the register.

The usual was caramel frappe, sweeter than normal and some heated molten, he got a sweet tooth...

While doing his order you snuck glances at him, just to find him staring back.

Now placing his order in a tray, you made your way towards him, setting the tray down, you steadied your feet to walk away. "Hey! I'm sorry.."

You looked at him, he was wobbling in his seat as he tried to find his words. "So uhm... Can we.. Get to know each other?..."

Looking around the place, it was still empty, no customers, even if there was a customer, your co-worker Matthew would've delt with them so... You sat with him on the table.

The conversation was awkward at first, he confirmed your name and introduced himself. The conversation escalated quickly, you found out that you had a lot in common, you both the same age as well as you both had a passion for art.

You found yourself giggling at his jokes, amused by his humor. He also asked a lot about your interests, and like that you began to explain everything to him. Although, you were avoiding eye contact with him as he kept staring at you the entire time and you felt shy.

The night passed quickly, before he left, he handed you a pink envelope before walking out the door. Looking at the clock, your shift was going to end in a few minutes. You were curious about the envelope. Impatience and curiosity are the worst combos, being both, you opened up the envelope to find...

A detailed sketch of you, behind it he wrote his number and asked if he can go out sometimes...

Your heart skipped a beat when your brain processed everything. That night, you came home all giggly and smiley, your family took notice of that but didn't comment.

In the past new days, your family, especially your dad, took notice of your change.

At first, you didn't have a big skin care routine, but now, every morning, you're up early making sure everything's nice. Same with your clothes, you didn't pay much attention to your looks, now you're over here making sure you didn't wear the same fit twice.

Sometimes your parents caught you packing food in a tupperware while going out.

Something was off...

While your family wondered what you were up to, you were enjoying your time with Daisuke.

Few dates from time to time escalated to daily ones. He'd take you out to movies, restaurants, parks and cafes. He was a gentleman, doing cliche things to you every now and then.

He holds the door open for you, feed you sometimes, share his food with you and hold you close.

He started inviting you over to his place, it's when you started packing food you'd make for him.

And yeah, he's touchier in private, whenever you're at his place he's technically glued to you. Cuddling was his favorite thing to do whenever you watch a movie.

Not gonna forget to mention the gifts. He's always making you something. Either a drawing or some origami, and you loved them.

It took the both of you a few weeks to get comfortable with each other, with that, Daisuke started planting kisses on you everywhere, forehead, cheeks, lips, neck and hand.

And those weeks made you comfortable enough to tell your family about your new partner. You arranged a day for them to meet him and get to know him. Your dad was the one that suggested that idea, as he wanted to know if that boyfriend of yours was a real one or not.

Telling Daisuke about it, he was more than thrilled about the idea, he even asked you what outfit he should put on. It was quite the show. And the day finally came...

You, your mom and your sisters stared at the two scarred men in front of you. They were holding some... Intense eye contact.

Your dad's expression was unreadable while Daisuke pressed his lips together, a smile forming on his face as he tried to prevent himself from laughing.

"Pfft... L-long time no see..." Daisuke muttered before bursting into a fit of laughs. Snapping your head at your boyfriend, you looked back and forth at him and your dad.

"Wha- wait you know each other?!.." You asked, looking at your dad whos face-palming. "Yes.."

The dinner table was full of conversations, one side from Daisuke and how he was at the tulpar, the other Swansea exposing him and spilling the embarrassing things Daisuke had done.

After all, you all enjoyed the evening together. (But Swansea kept asking you for grandchildren)

[ambitiousmars]

.☘︎ ݁˖ GENTLE precision

.☘︎ ݁˖ summary: viktor works in his own way. on the floor, in the dark, sometimes even in his sleep. but no matter the circumstances you'd hate for him to miss his morning coffee.

.☘︎ ݁˖ pairing: viktor x gn!reader

.☘︎ ݁˖ genre: fluff

.☘︎ ݁˖ warnings: no use of y/n, pure fluff, not proof read, based on season 1

I'll gently graze you, so you'll remember my touch. I'll softly speak to you, so you'll remember my voice while it's coaxing you rather than haunting you. And I'll remember you, so when you remember me, we'll remember us.

"Morning, Viktor." You greeted yourself as the door of the darkened lab clicked behind you, hand grazing against the wall to find the light switch.

"Keep them off," Viktor would urge, "Please." He'd mumble politely as a blue light sparked from the floor beside his chair.

"What are you working on?" You'd ask, making coordinated steps with coffee in each hand towards the sparking light.

You didn't know it could be so dark in a light room. The window looked as if it was the dead off night, and you clearly wouldn't know any better if he told you it was, in fact. Even if you were outside ten minutes prior.

One step: lies a cord notorious for being tripped on.

Picking your foot to place three more steps.

Where a table clock laid, broken glass facing down that no one bothered to pick up.

Picking up your foot, you took a few more steps before standing beside the busy man.

"I hope that's coffee I smell." Viktor whispered, not because he didn't want you to hear but because of how gentle he took your care. Whispering was a sign of vulnerability, not even he noticed about himself.

"Well, you always did get what you hoped for." You responded in the same tone, a smile evident in your voice as you lowered yourself to sit beside him.

He pulled away from whatever he was working on and removed the goggles he placed on his eyes to the floor beside him.

He reached a hand out to you, noticing you couldn't see him in the dark and you weren't even looking at him. He located your wrist to grasp lightly and slide the coffee from your hand before letting go.

"What are you working on?" You asked, moving your eyes back to him. As your eyes found his, you noticed the glisten in his eyes that still glowed through darkness, something you'd hate to miss.

He hummed through his sip off the hot beverage, letting you know he acknowledged your curiosity.

"Same thing I was working on yesterday,  and the day before..." He spoke, although not great with humor, you could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. As if he wanted you to laugh at the thing he found frustrating,  maybe to make it less frustrating for him.

"And why are we on the floor?"

'we.'

A simple word, a simple pronoun aimed at the two, now sat on the floor together.

"You can sit on a chair if you'd like." Viktor suggested.

'we.'

No one told you to sit on the floor.

"Then you'd be the only one sitting," You shook your head even when you knew he couldn't see it.

"And you'd be the only one standing." He whispered, more to himself than anything.

"Presicely."

Being alone was what he wanted, but being with you is what he craved. He didn't mind being accompanied on the floor by someone who doesn't mind accompanying him.

But it was far more than his presence, you'd hate to remember him by the man who was all alone unless you asked. You shouldn't have to ask, and he shouldn't have to answer.

Your hand found the air, with what you could see you brought it towards where you thought the shoulder of the man was. You were a bit far off until it landed on the fabric of his vest.

He didn't say anything, although he was curious he knew once you'd find what you were looking for, he'd know. Like now, when your hand glided across his chest to his right shoulder--letting your face follow where your hand went, you rested your cheek on his empty shoulder.

Which he allowed, as he sipped his coffee and thought about the question told once today.

"And why are you on the floor?"

[daryltwdixon]

hello dear!! i dont know if your are still taking requests or not, but if do you i would really love to see you write something fluff with a drunk daryl and reader, where he totally forgot that they are dating and just start acting shy and awkward around her, i know its cliche but i really love how you write daryl and think it would be so cute to see something like that written by you😭, but i totally understand if you are busy, i hope you are having a great day!���

A drunk Daryl grows uncharacteristically shy around you, forgetting for a moment that you're together.

author notes: I just want to say its not v common for people who are drinking to forget who their s/o's are, but anything for you lolol, enjoy!!! x

thank you for the love!!!

The Alexandria dinner party is louder than usual, laughter spilling out into the quiet night. Someone had insisted on opening the last few bottles of wine, and you watch with amusement as Daryl, leaning against the far wall, swirls the red liquid in his glass like it’s some kind of trap.

“Never took you for a wine guy,” you tease, stepping closer. His eyes dart to yours, and the flush on his face deepens. You figure the alcohol’s working its magic, though Daryl had always been shy about these kinds of things—especially in a crowd.

“Don’t even taste right,” he mutters, setting the glass on a nearby table like it might bite him.

You grin. “Then why drink it?”

He shrugs, glancing at you sideways. The usual ease between you feels a little... off. His gaze flicks to your face, then away again, like he’s avoiding something. You tilt your head, trying to figure out what’s wrong, when his voice breaks the quiet.

“You look real nice tonight.”

The words come out low and shy, almost like he hadn’t meant to say them. You blink, surprised, but before you can respond, he fumbles to add, “Not that ya don’t always, but... I mean, yeah.”

“Daryl,” you say, trying to catch his eye. He’s looking anywhere but at you now, cheeks burning. “Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. But the way he shifts on his feet, the nervous way he rubs the back of his neck—it’s not like him. You step closer, studying him, until something clicks.

“Oh my god.” You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “You don’t remember, do you?”

His brows furrow, lips parting in confusion. “Remember what?”

You can’t believe it. “You’re acting like we just met or something.”

Daryl stares at you, his eyes swimming with haze, but he blinks hard, trying to piece it all together. His eyes widen slightly. “Wait... we’re—?”

“Yes, Daryl,” you say, trying to suppress another laugh. “We’re together, at least I thought so,”

The realization hits him like a brick wall. His mouth opens, then closes, and for a second he just stares at you, dumbfounded. “Shit,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “I—uh... forgot.”

“Obviously,” you tease, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “Should I be worried you’re forgetting about me already?”

“Nah,” he says quickly, his voice quiet but insistent. “Just... too much wine. ‘S all.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile too wide at how bashful he looks. The Daryl you know is rarely this unguarded, and it’s endearing. But as you watch him glance down at you—his face still flushed and his nerves practically visible—you catch something softer in his expression. His hand drifts to the back of his neck again, but this time, a crooked grin follows.

“You’re... somethin’ else,” he murmurs under his breath, almost to himself. “Must be the luckiest som' bitch,”

The words catch you off guard, and warmth blooms in your chest. “Damn right you are,” you say softly, but there’s no teasing in your tone anymore.

His lips twitch, and he finally dares to meet your gaze. “Guess I don’t mind that.”

You smirk, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. The move makes him freeze for half a second before his face turns a deeper shade of red, but his hand brushes yours in a subtle, almost instinctive gesture. Even drunk, even shy, Daryl Dixon couldn’t hide how much he cared.

“C’mon,” you say, tugging lightly at his hand. “Let’s get you some water before you forget anything else."

[rubyboobidoo]

not tryna make you jealous, but it looks so good on you | sofia gigante x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, dom sofia (obvi), hair pulling, degradation+praise, spanking, thigh riding, just absolute FILTH 18+

A/N: this took me too long smh but i think it was worth it

it can’t be easy, running an entire empire that is. you know sofia appreciates you being her doting and understanding girlfriend, always by her side, always good for her. but lately, it’s been too much. all the late nights and days spent without so much as a kiss from her leave you worried and ever so desperate. it’s not like you’re asking for much, just a little bit of attention.

when you first noticed the revealing dress sofia had gifted you at the back of your closet, you knew exactly what to do. the plan was simple — wear it around the falcone residence until she finally noticed her mistake. you were confident it would get the reaction you wanted. until she saw you, her face twisted into a furious scowl. before you could react, she grabbed your arm and marched you straight into the nearest bedroom, the tension in the air palpable.

sofia struts to where you stand in the room, the haunting click of her heals on the floor following her. she circles around you, her hands skimming over the silk dress. it's funny how such a garment can cause such a fuss. "now, let's get one thing straight" she stops, hands lingering at your hips "all this" she purrs as her eyes scan your figure "is mine. understood?"

you decide to push her further, "i don't follow. all i'm doing is showing off what you bought me, baby." you sway, drawing attention to the fabric - or lack there of - on your body.

sofia's eyes narrow, her grip tightening on your hips as she yanks you close. "you think you’re being clever, hmm?" she hisses, her breath hot against your neck “playing games in front of my men?"

with one hand on your hip she raises the other to your head, grabbing a fist full of hair.

she watches with satisfaction as your eyes well with tears from the shock. "this dress, this body, this pretty little mouth of yours... all mine to do with as i please.”

one hand slides up your side, fingertips tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest just below your collarbone. "this dress... should be a reminder of who you belong to." her other hand tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat.

her grip in your hair tightens, just shy of painful. "over my lap. now." sofia releases you abruptly, stepping back to sit at the edge of her bed. "don't keep me waiting, sweetheart. i'm not a patient woman.” she taps her fingers impatiently against her thigh, staring through you as she restlessly awaits your response.

your chest tightens with fear of what she'll do next, but you don't move. instead, you stay still, pushing her further.

“god, must i do everything myself?" she snaps, rising from the bed. in one swift motion, she grabs your arm, yanking you toward her. you gasp falling into her lap forcing air out of your lungs and causing your dress to ride up.

the cool air leaves goosebumps over your thighs and sofia leaves little time for you to collect yourself before binging her hand down against your rear.

"count them out." she demands coldly. her hand comes down again as you wrangle a muffled 'one' from the back of your throat.

sofia continues her assault, filling the room with the echoed sound of skin on skin. you stop fighting the tears several slaps ago, letting them flow freely down your face as your flesh becomes increasingly red.

satisfied with her work, sofia pauses, her hand resting on your lower back. "good girl," she murmurs, her tone almost affectionate. you allow yourself to bask in the praise before uttering a small "thank you."

sofia shuffles back towards the headboard of the bed, smirking as she signals you to move with her. she watches in satisfaction as you crawl towards her, tapping her thigh with her slender finger as if to say “take a seat”.

you can feel her taking in the sight of you - the heat of her gaze on your skin. moving to straddle her leg, you realise how embarrassingly wet you had become.

sofia's lips curl into a hungry grin as she watches you crawl toward her. eyes raking over your figure, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks, damp from tears.

“you wanted my attention and now you have it, princess.” she growls, her voice low and dangerous.

you know what she wants you to do - make a mess, give her a show. but your mind was too fuzzy and you just couldn’t seem to make your hips move. instead, you lean in for a kiss.

sofia allows it, letting your lips clashing against each other as you whine into the kiss.

you a pitiful whine as she breaks the kiss, your breath coming in harsh pants. she bring her gaze down to where your heat meets her tight-clad thigh. “need a hand?” she teased, cocking her head.

she watches you eagerly nod and with that, she takes ahold of your hips, digging her nails into your flesh through the thin silk.

there’s something so jarring about being so bare before your fully clothed girlfriend but it’s all worth it for the friction that sends sparks of pleasure up your spine.

at a steady pace she guides your hips up and down her thigh. her feeling is torturous, delicious but leaving so much more to be desired.

you bite your lip to stifle a moan, your embarrassment palpable. she loves you like this - eager, desperate for more.

she leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers “poor baby,” her voice laced with sarcasm “so desperate for my attention yet too shy to make all those pretty little noises.”

"sofia," you moan, arching further into her thigh.

"ah ah," sofia tuts, slowing her movement completely. "i didn't say you could move, did i?"

she hooks a finger under the strap of your dress, tugging it down to expose more of your skin. "i love seeing you like this," she breathes, her lips trailing down your neck. "squirming and whimpering, all for me."

“only you.” you breathe, maybe if you appease her she’ll give you what you so desperately need.

“please, baby” you beg, hips bucking up in the desperate search for more traction “i need it.”

"since you asked so nicely," she growls pulling her lips from your skin.

sofia returns her hands to your hips, grinding you against her thigh with expert precision. the friction is incredible, building the tension coiling in your core.

she grips your hips tighter, her nails digging into your flesh as she grinds you harder against her thigh. sofia relishes the debauched sight of you - chest heaving from sporadic breaths, shaking legs tensing around her thigh, hazy eyes brimmed with tears of pleasure.

she quickens her pace as she notices you coming further undone. you can feel it building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter “come on, baby,” sofia urges, her voice low and encouraging. “let go, princess. give me what i want.”

her words in your ear are enough to send you tumbling over the edge. a wave of pleasure crashes over you as sofia draws out every last shudder and gasp.

she pulls back, a satisfied smirk on her face. “what an awful girlfriend i am, hmm?” she tenderly brushes a stray her from your forehead “letting my girl get all needy.”

you pout and joking nod in agreement “the worst.” you chuckle. with the little strength you have left, you shift your weight from her thigh.

“i don’t remember saying i was done with you, sweetheart.” sofia threatens. rather than protest, you steadily lower yourself between her legs, looking up at her through eager eyes.

“who said i was going anywhere?”

[fairylibe]

between us and the moon.

1415 words. angst with some comfort, highly interpretive. based on jude's past records. features: child! jude jazza & kate, victor.

꒰ summary ꒱ kate gives child! jude a hug. some inspiration was taken from this fanart.

(I)

wherever he went, the moon followed.

the moonlight seemed so bright, jude couldn’t help but look down at the concrete.

today as well, the work was grueling.

but when he saw a familiar figure upon pushing the heavy door open, his heart lightened up just a little, and his features softened a tad.

“big brother, you’re home! what took ya so long?”

“took a detour.” jude collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh.

the person before him tilted their head. “from where? goin’ through the nooks n’ crannies this time o’ night can be dangerous, ya know.”

jude closed his eyes for a moment — when he did, an image flashed in his mind.

“…today was a full moon.”

“hehe, thinkin’ ‘bout our promise? don’t go thinkin’ ‘bout breakin’ it.”

jude showed a small smile.

“…don’t matter if i gotta use money, magic, ya name it. someday, i’ll make it happen.”

——how could he not, when the image in his mind was engraved in his soul so deeply?

indeed, it was so clear, it could probably last ten thousand years.

(II)

“wow, the moon is so big…” as kate walked down the hallway, she looked out the window.

outside, the moon hung from the sky, so full and large she felt she could touch it.

“they say witchcraft’s at its strongest when the moon is at its largest.”

“eek!” kate jumped and turned around, seeing victor standing right behind her. “v-victor! don’t scare me like that!”

“haha, you must’ve been fairly out of it if you didn’t notice. bewitched by the moon tonight?”

“hm? oh, i guess…” kate’s voice trailed off as she looked back out the window.

victor’s gaze followed, his voice remaining lighthearted. “i have a tickling feeling some magic is going to happen tonight.”

kate chuckled as well at his somewhat theatric words. “what, are you holding another magic show?”

“aw, miss kate, could it be you miss my magic shows? you know i’m always happy to show you my tricks.” victor’s eyes were like crescents as he smiled, but then his expression recomposed. “…but i mean a different type of magic this time.”

“a different type?”

the corner of his lips quirked up as he brought his index finger up.

“be careful when opening doors after the clock strikes midnight. if you open the wrong door at the wrong time, i can’t guarantee you will be able to return safely until the next full moon.”

(III)

“▧▧▧▧, ya doin’ okay?”

they laid on the bed — a far cry from the energetic disposition they had just some time before.

now, coughing was a regular occurrence. sometimes, they would shiver as well.

jude held onto their hand, grasping it as tightly as his coarse fingers could.

it was as though he wanted to capture any sign of warmth.

or before that, he wanted to find a semblance of it.

“i’m…sorry…”

their voice came out as a raspy whisper before more coughing resounded in the room. the hand jude held gently held his back in a silent urge for him to relax.

although it did little to ease his mind.

after all, what they had couldn’t be treated without medicine.

and medicine costed money — more money than what he could currently make in a year, he reckoned.

jude clicked his tongue, more so annoyed at himself than anything else. but this only elicited an amused, albeit weak chuckle from his sibling.

“why so hard on yourself?” ▧▧▧▧ lifted jude’s hand, and he let them guide his hand as though they were the moon. “…you’re already like the moon to me. so that’s why…”

“▧▧▧▧…” jude’s voice trailed off, his amethyst eyes becoming more misty as he heard their voice fade into a whisper.

“that’s why…if i can stay by your side…that is more than enough.”

“then i’ll stay by your side,” jude replied, “it’s a promise ‘til the end.”

they gave jude a smile before turning their head to look up at the moon, high above the sky.

“i wonder how far the moon is,” they murmured.

jude didn’t know the answer then.

he eventually did find out —— but only when their voice faded to nothingness.

(IV)

kate couldn’t get victor’s words out of her head.

maybe he was indeed joking, but also…what if he was not? what would happen, then, were she to open a door she shouldn’t have?

sighing while mulling over her own thoughts, she turned the doorknob to her door, eager to plop onto the soft sheets of her bed, when——

“ahhh?!”

opening the door, she was greeted by a blinding light.

so bright…!

it took her a minute to adjust to her surroundings, her eyes slowly presenting her with a sight that looked somewhat familiar, but was also a far cry from her room.

“w-w-w-wha…”

the first thing she saw was a fight breaking out.

or…it wasn’t so much of a fight as it was a child, a boy who couldn’t have passed his teen years, getting beaten by some adults.

what stood out to kate was the amethyst-colored eyes this child had, which seemed to gleam with an unyielding flame of determination, only kindled by the inevitable pain.

what is going on?!

kate was bewildered, for sure, but also, she wanted to help that child as well.

her body moved on her own then.

“stop right there!!”

the child’s eyes widened, but he quickly recomposed himself. it would appear he was accustomed to such situations.

the attackers tried to retaliate, but they didn’t know that kate had a good mentor named roger when it came to the art of self defense.

when the attackers fled (not without spitting on the ground in contempt though), kate turned toward the child.

it was then she noticed his silver hair with black streaks.

“you…”

is this jude?

kate reached out to him to check to see if he was hurt, but the boy slapped her hand away, shooting kate a glare.

“i never asked for your help, ya goody two shoes.”

well, that was more than enough to answer the question that popped into her mind some mere seconds before.

(V)

who knows how much time had passed.

the first few days, kate ran into (child) jude, and he would swat her hand away, glare at her, and run off somewhere she didn’t know.

he kind of reminded her of a cat.

but as a bit more time went on, the two started making small talk.

“how long are you going to eat stale bread?”

“none o’ ya darn business.”

“actually, i think i have very valid concerns about your health, jude——ah.”

kate put her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.

jude looked at her, his brows raised.

“i didn’t tell ya my name. what does that make ya, a stalker?”

“no way!”

and, as a week passed, kate would sometimes find jude sitting on top of some burlap sacks piled on top of one another, looking up at the sky.

usually, his amethyst eyes had some fire in them, but when they looked at the moon, they seemed so dull in comparison. it was like he was deep in thought, but said thoughts weighed down on him, making him look far from a child.

one day — or one night — for the first time perhaps, jude asked kate a question.

“…how far is the moon?”

“…around 385,000 kilometers.” adult you told me at one point, after all.

jude spared kate a side glance before looking back up. “…i see.” after a pause, his next words came out in a murmur. “maybe if i met ya sooner, things would’ve been different.”

somehow, seeing his profile in the darkness, illuminated only by the silver moonlight, made him seem infinitely lonely…

and kate couldn’t help herself as she wrapped her arms around jude.

at first, he stiffened, but he didn’t push her away; he likely didn’t have much vigor to do so at this point.

no words were exchanged between them, but none were needed.

but then, another question seemingly whispered in kate’s ears.

“then, do ya think it’s possible to go to the moon?”

it seemed like a simple question, and yet at the same time so vulnerable for a reason kate didn’t know of.

“yes,” she replied after a pause, “i do.”

“hah, ya sure know how to be a goody two shoes.”

but for the first time since she came to this mysterious world, she felt arms wrap around her back.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @velisle @candiedcoffeedrops @judesmoonbeauty @.comment to be added or removed!

[vodika-vibes]

Things Unsaid

Summary: You’re a lighthouse keeper. A job inherited from your father, who inherited it from his mother. In fact, your family has been tending to the lighthouse since the day it was built all those years ago. Your friends don’t understand why you’re so comfortable being so alone…and you’re not sure how to explain that you’ve never been alone a day in your life.

Pairing: Dragon! Commander Monnk x GN!Reader

Word Count: 767

Warnings: None

A/N: I said I wasn't going to write today, but I wanted to try and so this was born. It's not very long, or very good, and I hurt even more now than I did when I woke up.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

The storm rages outside your home beneath the lighthouse. The rain falls in sheets, and thunder rumbles across the cliffs every 3 minutes. Lightning lights up the sky every so often, sometimes accompanied with the bone rattling crack of lightning striking something.

You don’t mind the storm.

You’re safe in your home, and above you the lighthouse shines its beam of light over the ocean, marking the location of shore for any ship unlucky enough to still be out there.

You settle on the window seat, a warm mug of tea cradled between your hands, as you watch the rain pound against the window. 

It is hard to see anything outside, with how dark it is even with the lighthouse shining brightly above you, but if you look closely, you can see something large flying within the clouds. 

Of course, you can only see it when the lightning lights up the sky. 

You track the large creature in the clouds with each crack of lightning, and you set your mug of tea down on a side table as the large creature dives down into the ocean.

You’re only able to catch a minor glimpse of the creature, large and covered in dark blue and yellow scales, as it dives into the ocean, but a small smile lifts your lips as you stand and walk over to the bathroom to pull out some towels, which you then lay on a table next to the side door.

You unlatch the side door, and pull it open, before you step onto the porch, protected from the severe weather only because the porch is closed in. And you watch as the large creature emerges from the ocean and flies over to your home. 

The creature, a dragon, lands on the other side of your garden, and you lean against the door frame as the large dragon approaches your home, his form twisting in shifting, until a handsome man with long bleached hair is strolling down the cobblestone path.

“Did you have fun?” You ask, your voice light as he pulls open the door to the covered porch and accepts the towel you offer him.

“Always,” He tosses the towel over his hair and squeezes some of the water out, “The storm is going to last the rest of the night.” He adds as he pulls his hair into a low tail, and hangs the towel around his neck.

“That’s alright, we need the rain.”

Monnk, the man standing in front of you, is a dragon. Just like all of his people. He’s been here since the lighthouse was built, though he’s only shown his human form in the years that you’ve been in charge of the lighthouse. 

He says it’s because you’re the first lighthouse keeper he trusts, but you’re not stupid. You see the way he looks at you.

The same look he’s directing at you right now, in fact. Warm and soft, a look that you would call pining, if he weren’t an ancient dragon.

“I have food in the oven for you,” You say as you step closer to him, and you see the way his dark eyes drop to your lips, and the way his fingers twitch (you’ve always been so observant when it comes to him), “And there’s tea as well.”

The smile he directs at you is so adoring, that you have to avert your gaze, “What would I do without you?”

“Smell like rotten fish, probably.” You joke as you turn to head back inside, though you pause and toss him a warm smile over your shoulder, “Welcome home, Monnk.”

He trails behind you, a lopsided grin on his face, “Glad to be back,”

You know that you’re not deserving of his affection. You’re not very nice, you’re kind of petty, and you’re quick to anger when pushed. Not to mention, you’re something of a loner, and you’re genuinely happy living so far away from everyone.

But Monnk seems to find you perfect the way you are. 

As he presses a feather light kiss against the back of your neck once he’s out of the shower and wearing dry clothes, you can’t help but think that this isn’t such a bad way to live.

He hasn’t told you that he loves you. But then, he doesn’t have to. He tells you in every touch of his fingers against your skin, in every way that he looks at you, and in every touch of his lips against you.

But then, you haven’t told him that you loved him either. So you suppose it’s all fair.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

[jazeswhbhaven]

SitrixOC Astra (Third POV) Tags/Warnings: Vanilla, Fluff with porn, vaginal penetration, heavy petting, cardiophilia, Non-canon, Canon character x OC character Words: 2K+

Astra stood up, her head swimming after finishing the contract removal ritual with Sitri. Being only the second time she had performed this, it was natural that she would feel a bit woozy. 

Damn, I never expected to be this sick. But then again…I’m not from hell…

Ppyong looked at her, flying around in circles with a concerned look. “I think it’s time again, aye! Miss Astra, do you need it?” 

Astra looked up at Ppyong, trying to smile away the nausea that suddenly appeared. It was that time again, but she felt it was too soon. She had just received energy from Satan about a day ago. Or so she thought since the sun technically had not set yet. But who knew how time worked here? A day in Hell could mean two on Earth. 

“I’ll be fine, Pp-” Astra struggles to finish her sentence, nearly bending over and placing a hand to her mouth to keep from throwing up. She also felt like her lungs were caving in, each breath she took being harder than the last. 

“It’s time,” Sitri says, standing up and gently rubbing Astra’s back. She sat up and looked over at Satan who was staring at her wordlessly. 

“Okay, I admit it. I need energy again. But isn’t it too soon?” Astra gasps, holding onto Sitri’s sleeve.

“No, it’s your first time in Hell. You’ll need it more often until you’re used to it.” Satan spoke plainly as if Astra should already know this. She rolls her eyes and squints her eyes at him. 

“Then, will it be you again? Mister, chokes a lot.” She added sass to her voice, which made Satan chuckle boyishly as if he’d pulled the biggest “gotcha” moment. But Sitri kept rubbing her back and answered her question instead. 

“You have already exchanged energy with His Majesty. It would be wise to choose another devil now so one source won’t be exhausted.” 

“Oh.” Astra stood up fully, exchanging a glance between Satan and Sitri while rubbing her thumbs together. “So, I’ll be with you next?” 

Satan frowned, unable to hide his distaste but he knew Sitri was right. “Yeah. Astra, think of the place where you’re most comfortable. Like before.” 

“So we’re doing this now?” 

“Yes. Now.” 

Astra exhales slowly, letting her mind go at ease as she thinks of Minhyeok’s room. It felt odd, just like last time as if she were using his room in real time though it was just an illusion. She wasn’t actually in his room. She wondered if she could get over the guilt of having her first time be with Satan while doing it on what was a manifestation of her childhood best friend’s bed. Though, it was useless to dwell in the past. It already happened, and she needed this to stay alive. 

At the same time while zoning out, she could overhear Satan’s conversation with Sitri. 

“Hey.” 

Sitri stares at his superior, straight-faced as usual and attentive. “Yes, your Majesty?” 

“She’s mine.” 

“....I’m aware.” 

Satan was satisfied with the answer, not wanting to cause problems with his subordinate. However, there was something backhanded about Sitri’s statement that made him want to kick his ass. It was as if that lingering attitude he picked up from Hades was taunting him. 

“Your Majesty, aren’t you going with Miss Astra this time, aye?” Ppyong asks genuinely while flying around closely to the slightly ticked-off king. 

Satan swatted at Ppyong, scoffing and clicking his tongue.

“They sound like we’re in one of those dramas.” Astra thinks to herself, highly amused. Even though it was tempting, there was no time for Astra to say anything or focus on their banter, as Minhyeok’s room came into view. 

It’s cold again. Wait…

Astra took a look down, her body bare like last time. 

“Well fuck where did my clothes go again?” She covers her breasts, looking around for some kind of cover until- 

“Solomon.” 

Astra jumped, tripping over her own feet and landing on the bed behind her. In front of her stood Sitri, staring at her with pink cheeks while still holding a full cup of warm tea. 

“Nervous?” He asks, coming closer to her with a sincere tone to his voice. 

“No. Well, maybe. This is the second time I’m doing this.” Astra had to admit to herself that essentially having what was considered two dick appointments back to back was something out of the ordinary for someone like her. She was a virgin the night before, and now…

“Here, have some tea. It will help.” He offers his cup to her, Astra readily accepting. The smell emitting from it is fragrant and soothing, as she takes her first sip to test the temperature. It was smooth, quite honestly the most perfectly brewed tea she ever had in her life. Before she knew it the entire cup was gone, Sitri grinning from ear to ear as he took the cup back from her. 

“Sitri that was amazing…I’m already feeling-” Astra paused, putting her hand to her chest as her heart thumped wildly. The room was quiet, but now it sounded more like a symphony with her pulse echoing throughout the walls. She looked at Sitri, who was so red in the face and trembling that she knew something was not right. 

“Wait, this tea…is there caffeine in it?” 

“Why yes, it’s black tea.” 

Astra stood up, uncrossing her arms and pointing at Sitri with a firm pout, and her brow furrowed. “Sitri, this won’t calm me down. My heart feels like it’s on overdrive!” 

The other steps up to her, reaching his hand behind her head and bending down to take her lips in a slow and deep kiss. This was much deeper and intimate than the first time she met him. His tongue explored the remnants of the tea lingering in her mouth, his moans and whimpers flowed into her as he brought her closer to his body. 

“Your heartbeat…it sounds heavenly. So good…so loud.” He rasps, his deep pink hues meeting her gaze. 

Astra now could pay attention to the details of his eyes. His pupils, blue upside-down crosses. Swirls of deep and light pink in his irises mesmerized her and made her forget that she gulped down enough caffeine to have her wired for theoretically a week. 

“Solomon, your heartbeat…before then it was hard to concentrate on it. Erratic, mysterious, uncharted. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But now, this simple, steady beat is enough. And I like it a lot.” 

Astra’s head was hazy from the kiss, but she then felt an overwhelming emotion. Disdain. There was one thing she couldn’t stand about Sitri since she arrived, and it was how she was constantly…ever so…compared to her ancestral grandfather. 

“I’m not him.” She gently pushes Sitri away, turning her back to him. “I don’t want to be compared to him. I don’t even know the man and you’re comparing me to him.” 

“Solomon, I didn’t mean-” 

“My name is Astra, Sitri. Astra. A-S-T-R-A. There is no Solomon in that name. Only in my blood. Don’t call me by his name when we’re like this. I don’t…I don’t like it.” With her heightened heartbeat, even more wild now that she was upset, the room shakes in response to her current state. Sitri’s arms wrap around her from behind, his lips against her neck as he gently kisses up to her earlobe. 

“I’m sorry that I’ve offended you, I don’t call you that to compare. It’s just…I’m so used to” 

“Then get used to me. Sitri.” Astra turns around, staring into Sitri’s eyes again before kissing his cheek, then his lips once more, wrapping her arms around his neck. In seconds, she’s lifted off the floor into his arms, her legs around his waist to brace herself as he carries her to the bed. With a gentle flop, Astra lands on her back, smiling and placing her foot on his chest to playfully push him back. 

Sitri smiles, taking off his top, the silky black fabric pulling over his head and falling to the floor revealing a well-toned, muscular physique that he was hiding effectively under it. Astra’s heart thumps louder upon seeing his frame, his tattoos now showing, and his waist, the ratio to his thighs better than any male model or porn star she’s seen before. 

“Wow...Sitri..” She gasps, feeling the arousal increase between her thighs. She reaches out to touch him letting the definition of his muscles flex and react to her fingertips. He sighed, leaning closer to kiss her forearm and flashing a gaze at her that was teaming with ecstasy. 

“You’re getting excited…if you could hear what I hear-” He shudders and exhales again, his eyes closing and opening slowly. “...you would understand how aroused I am right now.” 

Astra sits up, scooting her body closer to Sitri, her hands now at his waist teasing the waistband of his pants. 

“I want these off.” She says in a low voice, giving the other an innocent look. Sitri wastes no time, his pants removed in record time as they too hit the floor along with his underwear. Astra’s eyes take in the shape and size of his cock, noting that he was about the same size as Satan but slightly thicker. 

She allows Sitri to lift her once again, positioning her hips at the right angle before the tip of him kisses her entrance. Astra’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she keeps her eyes locked with his. With a small nod to give him the signal, she feels his shaft slowly push past her wet folds. A whimpering noise escapes her throat, her head burying in Sitri’s neck and chest as she takes him all in one go until he bottoms out. Sitri sits for a minute, slowly breathing as his chest rises and falls. She could tell by the way he gripped her waist that he was savoring the moment, and pressing her chest against his so he could feel her heart thump faster now that he was nestled deep within her. 

“So…good. So steady. I want to hear more…” Sitri whispers in her ear before he pulls out and snaps his hips upward, causing Astra to gasp and cry out suddenly. He then evens out his strokes to the beat of her heart, the rhythm following closely at the same time hitting the right spots over and over. Astra felt no pain, only pleasure as she held onto Sitri the best she could. The way he was fucking her was more gentle, more sensual than Satan. Each thrust had meaning but was just as powerful and unrelenting. 

Before she knew it she was on her back, staring up at him from below as her chest felt as if it were on fire. Her heartbeat was rising, the steady thumps turning into fast-paced pulses as if she were running a marathon. 

“You’re showing off, is that for me?” Sitri asks with a grin on his face before leaning down and kissing the area where her heart was located. He bit down on the flesh, swirling his tongue before focusing on her breast and taut nipple. Astra arches her back, her legs not letting go of Sitri’s waist as he continues to pump into her wildly. Her hand curiously roams down his thigh, taking a handful of his toned and plump ass and squeezing it tightly. Sitri moans and pauses his movements, biting his lips, shaking, and looking at Astra with wild eyes. 

“Again, please.” He begs in bated breath. Astra grins and uses both hands to grasp his ass and mold the flesh between her fingers. She couldn’t believe he was so sensitive by just having his backside massaged when he took so many kicks from Satan. Perhaps it was different during sex, as with each squeeze and tap his cock swelled and throbbed inside her. 

“Oh, Sitri…you’re so hard you’re stretching me out…” Astra pants, the blue-haired devil leaning down to take her lips in a fervent kiss as continues to stay dormant in his position. As Astra kept her hands firm on his ass, he swirled his tongue with hers, growling and pressing his chest against hers.

As she pulls back from the kiss, that’s when she notices Sitri’s horn is gleaming in the light, covered in the same milky substance she experienced when playing with Satan’s horns. She grabs it, rubbing it vigorously. Sitri moans loudly, the sensation causing him to pause in his thrusting before he changes his pattern, his strokes now deep and in unison with her hand movements. 

“Yes…like that…fuck…” Sitri’s eyes close as he bites his lip.

Astra felt herself clench around his shaft, excited to hear Sitri curse as he did. He appeared so well-mannered and distinguished that he was like a different devil in the bedroom. She couldn’t say much more, the stimulation from the caffeine, the sex, and even stroking his horn was overwhelming. It was as if everything he felt, she could too. At the same time, she was moments away from passing out, her climax reaching its peak. 

“Sitri…I can’t…I’m about to lose it!” Astra cries and grabs his forearms tightly as she throws her head back, her walls closing even tighter around his cock as spasms rippled through her core. For a moment she thought her heart stopped, but the gentle kisses of Sitri let her know that wasn’t the case.

“That’s it…just like that, Astra.” Sitri saying her voice so sweetly made her whimper as another wave of pleasure hit her, this time a bit of fluid coating the other’s cock as he pulled out and slid back in to help her ride it out. “We can stop here for now…it’s a lot of you to take this much energy. Normally, you’d be able to exchange much more and receive more but this is enough. We’ll try again at a later time.” 

Astra felt her exhaustion hit like a brick wall, limbs heavy and the wild thumps of her pulse finally regulating and slowing to a normal state. She looks at Sitri with tired eyes, reaching out to him to gently cup his cheek, his lips kissing her palm. 

“Sleep well,” Sitri says, his nails gently tracing her jaw down to her chest. Astra smiles weakly before closing her eyes, Sitri’s swollen cock still deep inside of her until she is softly snoring. He removes himself reluctantly, wishing he could stay like this with her for a while longer. But he knew well. 

“Someday, I’ll do what I want to with you…and that’s when I’ll let you know my true feelings.” He says, picking her up into his arms as they sat in the manifestation of Minheyok’s room in silence. The steady beat of her heart intertwined with Sitri’s being the only thing that played like music in his ears.

[viennakarma]

I’m loving these little snippets of Luna and her parents please don’t stop 🥰 keep them coming

{Say Something Masterlist}

You bet your ass that the Mr. Fancypants incident wasn’t the last of “territorial” Lewis.

One evening you’re waiting for Lewis to come pick Luna up for the weekend and you are getting ready because you have a date night after Luna leaves with her dad. So you’re minding your business when Lewis arrives and get inside to help Luna grab her backpack.

And he does a double take when he sees you all dolled up, makeup and hair in an up-do that showed your beautiful neck and a diamond necklace (that Lewis had gifted you many years before as a push gift)

“Going out tonight?” He asks, worried. You barely look at him as you just hum positively, “with your girl friends?”

You finally look at him, a slightly annoyed expression.

“What do you want…?”

“Date night?”

“Stop asking questions you don’t want to hear the answer to” you deadpan.

Lewis bites the inside of his cheek and plops himself on the couch, a shameless little grin on his face.

“Weren’t you and Luna going to the movies tonight?” You ask wanting his to fuck off.

“It can wait.”

Lewis ignores you to chat with Luna about her week, purposefully stalling. When you see a sleek black Ferrari pull up, you curse internally. Mr. Fancypants arrival to pick you up for your date wasn’t supposed to overlap with Lewis picking Luna up.

When you go to open the door, Lewis stands up and tells Luna to get her things. When she’s out of sight, he turns to Fancypants, assessing him like a predator would assess a prey. He looks at his clothes, his face and hair, then the flowers in his hand which are obviously for you.

It’s a weird, awkward moment until Luna comes back rushing outside to her father’s car. Lewis follows but stops by the threshold, with a smirk.

“She doesn’t like red roses…” he clicks his tongue. No greeting to Fancypants, no introduction, no other acknowledgment, no nothing. Then Lewis turns to you, “the brown scarpin will look lovely with that dress…”

He winks and leaves.

And he leaves you and Fancypants stupefied behind.

[blu3-ja3]

IT'S TIME! second to last one of this little series! I hope you've all enjoyed these but also be ready for the actual story! It's going to be a good one I promise!

!TRIGGER WARNING! Blood, Semi Graphic Depictions of Violence, Panic Attacks, Semi Graphic Depictions of Injuries

1) Open Doors Can Be Closed For A Reason

Since day one my office door is open unless it's needed to be closed. More often than not it's open while I work, my office is secluded and at the far end of a very loud and echoey hallway. It's an unwritten rule though that if my door is closed do not open. The rule is there for one person really and that's Ghost.

I promised him his privacy from the world while I did my formal work. At first he hated removing his mask for me, I made sure it was the first thing or last thing we did so it was done and out of the way. It was purely for medical needs, I worked fast and efficiently. Which he seemed to like, made him comfortable. I hardly knew what he looked like, he was as much an enigma to me as he was anyone else. And that made Ghost comfortable so I was comfortable.

Then Las Almas happened and I got a proper look at the young man's face. He trusted me with that information well after we got back on base, though I did my best to keep things quick.

Soap burst into my office carrying a staggering Ghost. The younger man deposited Ghost onto the nearby cot before quickly shutting my curtains and door.

"Doc! Ghost hit his head real hard, got him here as quick as I could!" I rushed over towards the lieutenant allowing Soap to remove his partners mask.

"Ghost I'm removing your mask now alright mate? I've gotta check you out and make sure everything is okay."

I stand patient to let Soap work, he's gentle and removes the fabric deftly. I start to move towards Ghost when I hear the click of a door knob. On pure instinct alone I whirl and stride forwards, shoving who ever just opened my door out. The young man tumbles backwards staring at me like I'd just slapped him and told him I'd fecked his mother.

"I don't know what you're fecking doin' but when that door is closed no one is allowed to enter!"

"No need to be so rude about it"

"You listen here you little gobshite and you listen well, if my door is opened you're more than welcome to prance your way in. But if the door is feckin' closed you turn around and leave."

"But I have important docu-"

"I don't give a shite I said leave! Go drop them off with Captain Price! Now leave!"

I watched as the young man scampered away down the hall. I turned around quickly and entered the room, immediately going over towards Ghost and setting about working on his injury. Once everything was good and Ghost was resting Soap spoke up.

"You were a little harsh on the kid Doc"

"Hmm maybe, but I have rules for a reason. They're there for a reason, and protecting my patient is number 1 on the list of reasons."

"I'm sure Simon would appreciate that Doc... Thank you."

I nod and continue my work at my desk as Soap sits next to Ghost. My door remains shut until Ghost is aware of everything and given the all clear. Though he doesn't say much I know he appreciates the gesture.

2) History Repeats

I can't see anything it's pitch black but I know I have my eyes open... it's just dark and wet... This was not how this op was supposed to go. Everything went to shit so fast, I think extraction is questionable, and I think I'm bleeding. It's really hard to focus right now, everything is muffled and fuzzy. I keep getting woken up by something....

No it's someone... Tall, dark, only white skull, cranky Manchester accent... It's Ghost, good he's a smart kid. I can feel the smile on my face fall. He's missing something... Where's Soap?

"Don' know Cap, gotta focus on you right now..."

I see him move as some of the dirt behind blows up behind him... Are we getting shot at? Fuck it's hard for me to think. I heard Ghost rumble something before a loud boom... He must have hit what he was aiming for cause he moved to pick me up. So warm I could fall asleep here... Ghost can handle this... He's a smart lad.

"Shit Doc you're freezing....Hey now talk to me Doc, how's the sleeve going? Johnny making any progress on your missing piece?" I smile at the mention of Soap he's such a good artist.

"Yeah, Johnny Boy's a good kid... I'm so happy you two found each other. Everyone deserves happiness, Simon, even you laddie." I'm so tired, maybe just resting my eyes for a bit... Yea... Yeah that sounds... That sounds real good.

"Hey Doc, got a joke I want to run past you. It's for my Johnny but I'd like to test it first yeah?" I smile, I love Simon's jokes. They're awful but everyone smiles when he says them so they're truly perfect.

"Go fer it, lad. What's the joke?"

"Why does the military plant trees Doc?" I open my eyes and look towards Ghost but everything starts spinning. My head is pounding... Why is it pounding? Gotta respond to Simon, he's telling me a joke.

"Why?" My voice is so quiet, why? Are we trying to be quiet? Everything feels so loud though...

"To grow their infant-tree Doc... Hey, on me Captain!" My head snaps up to follow the order, I can't see much of Simon's face. Just the bright white skull, it's glowing so bright.

A searing flash of pain shoots through my right side, I feel warmth seeping into my cloth. Simon seemed to notice, he said something but it's so hard to hear him. I'm shivering and it gets worse as Simon sets me down. We're in a room, there's a bunch of noise... No, no, not noise it's voices. I know these voices, it's my boys. They're okay... They're safe... They're scared, why? What's wrong?

I feel something warm on my shoulder, it's so warm... I want more, it's so cold. Why is it so cold? Another flash of pain from my right it makes it hard to breathe as I'm being sat up. Something warm is beside me... No it's behind me, I lean against it.

"Maevis we've gotta get your shirt off... You're hurt love." I'm scared, why am I scared... Oh!

"No, they'll see it. They can't see it..."

"It's just me and Price, Doc. We need to see what's wrong." John... John's seen but Ghost? No he'll understand... It's only fair, I've seen his face...

"You promise? I'm scared... I'm scared of what... You'll see..." It's so hard to speak. Why is it so hard?

I'm moved again, away from the warmth. My shivering gets worse as my shirt is pulled off. There's a dull throbbing on my right that turns to a white hot pain when something touches it.

"Doc, this is going to hurt... But you need stitches." Stitches? Is it that bad?

"You promise? I trust you Simon... But I'm scared... Everything hurts and I'm scared."

"I promise Mom... You're getting out of here."

The pain starts very quickly, a pinching stabbing pain. At first it's only annoying but then it gets worse and worse... I try to focus on my breathing... It's too much I can't do this, I'm going to be sick...

Black.

There's a dull ache from my hip and something is wrapped around my hip. I'm sitting upright against something warm and solid. I'm in a vehicle, a car? There's the sway of being on the road and the bumping of hitting pot wholes. I open my eyes and my vision begins to swim. I groan as the pounding in my head comes back tenfold.

"She awake Ghost?" I look to see Prices eye staring at me through the rear view window.

"I'm awake, feel like I was hit by a feckin' truck." I try to sit up but I feel a hand stop me.

"Go back to sleep Doc, you need the rest." I adjust myself so I'm sitting up a bit before my vision spins.

I lay back against Ghost again, trying to keep my eyes open but the young Lieutenant was right. So I concede the fight and close my eyes.

3) Matters of Trust

"Maevis, I'm warning you. The Lieutenant is a bit of a lone wolf."

"How do you mean John?"

"He's known to disappear, leave behind teammates, go against orders. You're better off leaving him until you gain some rapport with him, take one of the sergeants, Gaz is a good choice..."

"How am I going to gain said rapport if we aren't on the field together? If I'm to gain his trust we'll have to work together, I don't expect his trust to come for free. Sending me on this mission with him will be the best way for everything to move forward."

"Maevis..." John sighs shaking his head, "Fine but understand that it could rapidly become a solo op."

"I'm aware, John, but I also trust that the Lieutenant won't get me killed. I have to give trust in order to gain trust and as his higher up it's up to me to make that first step... You taught me that John."

"I regret everything I've ever taught you. Fine, Ghost come out I know you're there."

I turn around to see the shadows in the corner shift and form the almost mountain of a man known as Ghost. Impressive. Also useful to know.

"Pleasure to formally meet you lad! Doctor Maevis O'Connor!" I stick my hand out in front of me.

"Nice to meet you as well, Captain O'Connor." He takes my hand in his and shakes once.

"Let's get this briefing over with John. The faster we're on the ground, the faster we're out." I turn back to the table with all the collected information on it.

4) Surprise

I'm in my office with boxes everywhere. We've moved to a better base, there's less barracks but it's an actual full facility with everything Price has been asking for. Everyone has been excited because they're getting more personal rooms instead of shared bunks.

My office and barracks are next to each other with my office being at the end of the hall and my barracks to the left. I've already finished unpacking and setting up my barracks so I'm in my office.

I'm currently going through files and sorting alphabetically. Placing them into my new filing cabinets, I never thought myself to be someone who would get excited over organized filing cabinets but here I am. I'm finishing up the last cabinet when I hear someone clear their throat. I turn around to find Ghost standing in front of my desk.

"Hello Lieutenant! How can I help you lad?"

"Don't have much to finish in my quarters so I figured I'd see if you'd like some help, I know you'll be setting up your cabinets. "

"I'm a bit surprised but I won't say no!"

I moved to my desk and wrote down my planned layout for my medical cabinets and drawers. I helped Ghost separate the boxes of medical and personal. I gave him the layout and left to unpack my desk supplies and set up another cabinet full of supplies. Ghost was eventually pulled away by Soap but he let me know the cabinet was done.

It was about an hour later before I finished with my medical cabinet. I turned to unpack the last box on my desk, it's full of personal items that go on my shelf. Medical book and my medical license, a couple of knick knacks from different places I've been. A photo of the 141, my previous medical squad, and a picture of my squad when Price was my Lieutenant and I was a sergeant. I had a couple of empty shelves but I figured they'd get filled in time.

I turned to my desk and moved the box to find an envelope and a small box. The envelope has Ghost's hand writing on it. I sat down in my chair and opened the envelope.

'Doc, we knew today would be busy so we all got together for a celebration in the new rec room. The box is from me, enjoy and we'll see you there. - The 141 boys'

I smiled and began to open the small box. Inside was a bunch of cloth, removing the cloth I found a glass blown four leaf clover. It fits in my palm as I look at it before I turn around and set it on my desk next to my photo of William. I walk into the rec room to find the rest of my team huddled together.

"You usually make us a cake today, to celebrate William's birthday. But we figured we could help honor him today since it has been a long day. Surprise Maevis!" Price claps a hand on my shoulder as Gaz turns around holding a small cake with simple chocolate frosting designs. We cut the cake and chatted about the new base. Once everyone began to turn in for the night, I approached Ghost.

"I wanted to thank you for the clover, you didn't have to. I owe you, I'll get you a bottle of bourbon as repayment"

"It was a gift Doc, saw it and thought you'd like it. You don't owe me... Though I'll never say no to a bottle of bourbon."

Id eventually give Ghost his bottle of bourbon. That one gift started a trend of random clover trinkets appearing on my desk until the last of my shelves were filled. For each little trinket I baked something for the team as repayment.

5) Unconditional

My eyes fly open as I shoot up from my bed, heart racing. I tried to calm my breathing and rubbed my eyes. Memories of Las Almas citizens screaming, pleas for help from my burning patients and friends, my own screams and the memory of blistering heat burning my skin all whirling together in my mind.

I get out of bed, I've gotta take a walk. Calm myself down, get ahold of myself. I walked towards the mess hall and noticed a figure standing outside. They're tall, well built, in a hoodie with the name 'Riley' across the back. I make two cups of tea, nothing fancy just some chamomile with honey.

I approach Ghost, standing next to him and handing him a mug. I stood there in silence knowing Ghost wouldn't confide in me verbally but my presence was comfort, enough. I sip my tea looking up at the sky trying to find a constellation or two.

"Why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you do it?"

"I do a lot Shade you'll have to be more specific."

"You're kind? To me... You're such... Augh. I don't know how to phrase this."

"Then just talk, whatever you need to say will come about eventually."

"THAT! You're so patient and understanding. Why? Haven't you been burned enough?" He tensed at that before I set a gentle hand on his arm. He flinches away before relaxing.

"I treat all of you like this, I can't really explain why. I've been like this for so long it's hard to think of myself any other way. I couldn't imagine not treating you lads with kindness. It's just my nature to nurture."

"And my nature is violent, so why be so nurturing towards me?"

"Simon" He flinches again at the name but I continue, "Your nature isn't violent, I've seen how gentle you are. It's clear as day when you're with MacTavish but if you know what to look for it's there with Gaz, Roach and Price too."

I can see his eyes tearing up as I continue, "You have to be gentle with yourself lad and take a step back from being the Ghost. Even if it's only around Soap, you can do it around us also. You're human Simon, despite everything you're human. And humans are fragile creatures." I turn to look up at Ghost as more tears well up in his eyes.

I opened my arm as an invitation, one I expected to be denied. I was slightly surprised as Ghost accepted the hug, clinging tightly to me as he sobs silently into my shoulder. I run my hand up and down his back, gently comforting him. After sometime Ghost calms down, I have him finish his tea before guiding him towards Soap's room.

"Doc my room's not down this way."

"I know but you shouldn't be alone tonight."

I knock on the door in front of me and explain to Soap what happened, briefly not giving many details. He gently guided Ghost into the room before telling me goodnight and closing his door. I make my way back towards my room, finding myself sleeping slightly easier. Reminding myself to be gentle.

[misteria247]

Parole officer Paz and her little bastard charge Bill thoughts coming your way

Okay so Bill's staying with Paz and despite hating his situation he's a nosey little shit and he decides to observe Pacifica in her every day life. Mainly to kill boredom, and he notices a few things that are definitely different than when he'd seen her last time. For one thing she seems to have developed a hording problem. Pieces of scrap metal, gems, little chains and other knick knacks are all scattered around her house. As well as gloves and other useless things. She has books with little pine trees on them and pieces of art with glitter and other sparkling things. It's honestly annoying to him that she has all this stuff in places in her usually clean home. Another thing he notices is she's apparently on better terms with her dad, which is surprising. She always has a scheduled time for phone calls and will be on them for a good while much to his irritation. She also gets other phone calls from people and she's always looking forward to them, not paying much attention to him. (Which drives him up the wall). But the thing that irks him the most is the feeling of deja vu.

It's little things she does, little mannerisms and sayings she speaks. Things like sweet marmalade or what in the sam hell, and he hears it and it makes his teeth grind but he can't figure out why? This goes on for a bit and he grows more and more irritated with it until one day he catches her doing one of her little projects and she's got this expression on her face. One of concentration, with her tongue peeking out unconsciously as she handles a delicate piece of jewelry that it hits him. Because fuck he's seen that same exact expression.

Wayyyy back in the 80s.

On the one person who he can't stand at all.

Mother fucking Specs.

And it clicks and suddenly so much makes so much sense and are you fucking kidding me????? Kind of deal. He never saw this coming and now he's hellbent on finding out how the hell this brat became friends with Fiddleford H. Mcgucket of all people. Bill's not happy at all for the rest of the day, hell the week once he realizes this lol. Basically Fidds haunts his ass even after therapy Bill will never be free of Mcgucket and that to me would be super funny.

[runningracingdancingchasing]

Rapunzel knew that crow, and despite the fact that Pascal camouflaged himself against the black feathers, she saw her best friend there with him. Oh, Pascal! Everything made more sense when he was around!

The fact that the crow was insulting Gothel in Audwin's voice was almost comical, but Rapunzel felt so strained. What was she supposed to do?

"Wait!" she called after the guard. "What happens in the morning?"

"We've finally caught the evil owl sorcerer," the guard informed them gravely. "He is to be executed at dawn."

"No...!" Rapunzel gasped, and once more felt the urge to run to him, find him.

The guard looked at her oddly, and Gothel clicked her tongue. "Don't mind her," she assured the man. "Every time she even hears about that horrible man, she goes into a tizzy. Quite a silly child." She pulled Rapunzel away from the guard by the wrist, leading her rather firmly farther into the forest.

Rapunzel felt her face draw into a frown, and at the same time, Pascal, who was still camouflaged while hiding between her neck and her hair, began to urgently pat her skin to get her attention. He was try to tell her something, but he couldn't whisper very well, and without her being able to see him, she couldn't really make it out.

Still, he was here, and a minute ago, he hadn't been. Audwin's crow had returned Pascal to her. If he genuinely didn't care about her, would he have bothered?

"How long until dawn?" she wondered softly.

Gothel sighed exasperatedly. "Speak up, Rapunzel! You know how I can't stand the mumbling!"

"How long until dawn?" Rapunzel repeated, louder and more enunciated.

Gothel froze mid-stride, and turned to the young woman. "Several hours," she answered truthfully. "The sun only just set a while ago. We have plenty of time to get home while the entire kingdom is celebrating that stupid dead girl and the upcoming death of her captor." She began walking again at a pace that said, under no uncertain circumstances, that Rapunzel was to keep up with her.

Frowning and shaking her head, Rapunzel trotted forward a few steps to get ahead of her and stall her again. "What do you mean?" she asked. "He didn't kill the Lost Princess, she's--" She's me. But she didn't say that. Suddenly, Rapunzel was starting to see more clearly, and knew she had to be smart about this. "She's lost, not dead."

"There's more than one way to lose someone, Rapunzel," Gothel scoffed. "Haven't I ever taught you the phrase, 'I'm sorry for your loss'?"

"No..." Rapunzel was relatively sure that Gothel had never said she was sorry about anything, ever.

"Well, it's about death," she answered bluntly, and stepped around Rapunzel to continue the journey home. "Now hurry! We have to get home, in case he escapes. You're no match for him, and I'm getting older by the second."

She knew then that she had to get away. But maybe the best way to do that would be to trap Gothel in the tower... A plan began to formulate, and she followed silently, resting her hand on her shoulder to assure Pascal that she was aware of him, but that they had to bide their time.

They had several hours until dawn.

Audwin's crow was panicked, flapping wildly as it was chased away from its master by the guards. It could only watch helplessly from a lamp post as the wizard's limp, injured body was thrown in the back of a cage-like cart to be hauled away to the dungeon. The chameleon on its back was on the verge of being thrown off until he squeezed to demand the crow calm down. They also had a missing princess to find!

The crow turned around just in time to see the whispy trailing of elegant skirts and took off after her. It flew over rooftops toward the girl, ready to loudly caw at her for help but it's beak shut when it saw she wasn't alone. A cloaked figure was with her, leading her away.

Oh, no...

The crow glanced back at Pascal and clicked at him. Hold on. it swooped down, caring and flapping in the old lady's face and tugging her hair as a distraction to drop Pascal onto Rapunzels dress. It mimicked Audwin's familiar voice, repeating every insult it had ever heard the wizard say.. Some were pretty colorful and absurd. Gothel had probably never been called a bawbag before.

"Away, you!" A guard ran up, hearing the commotion, swinging his helmet to swat at the flapping creature. The crow pecked at his fingers but ultimately relented and flew away to perch on a nearby stoop. "Nasty beasts! Rats with wings. Sorry, ladies. Don't worry we've got this crow business under control. Should be all taken care of come morning."

The grow ruffled its feathers in irritation at watching the guard not recognize his own princess and let them go. It huffed and had no choice but to fly back into town to try and recruit other help. Somehow...

Oh, look at that. The guards had left a horse guarding the prisoner. It seemed to take its job very seriously.

It looked like this crow was going to have to get very good at charades.

[darkmuffinstudios]

HAD THE MOST INSANE DREAM JUST NOW AND THESE TWO WERE IN IT AND I WAS JUST LIKE JSVFIJVFSJIVFSIKVSFIKSFV STEALING YOU GUYS

LIKE I LITERSLLY ROLLED OUT OF BED AND GRABBED MY TABLET AND SCRIBBLED THESE GUYS BEFORE I FORGOT

SO SO SO! THE IDEA IS THAT SOMETHING SOMETHING WHEN PPL DIE, THEY GET THESE HALOS ON THEIR HEADS WHICH TIE THEM TO THE LIVING WORLD AS A SORT OF LIKE “THEY CANT MOVE ON” SORT OF THING

AND WHEN KILLER GETS KILLED, HE HAS SO MANY DIFFERENT REGRETS AND SO MANY DIFFERENT WANTS THAT HIS SOUL ESSENTIALLY SPLITS INTO TWO—. UT THEYRE STILL VERY MUCH CONNECTED? LIKE THEY ARE DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF HIM BUT NEITHER CAN MOVE ON UNTIL THE OTHER IS SATIATED AND EISJCNDJSKCSKCMDLD

GOD THESE TWO ARE SO BADASS DISJCJCJC MY OWN BRAINROT IS GOING NUTS

MAYBE MORE TO COME SOON OK BYEEEEE

[ronithesnail]

I think it would be cool if the first thing jay remembers when he starts regaining his memory is something from his experience in Skybound

Edit: okay fuck it is spent too long on these tags to not include them in the post because actually i have more to say about this

[enby-cuntboy]

thinking about an escape room but the twist is that if you don't get out in time, you're used by the entire staff until they're satisfied.

you know what you're getting into, of course. you sign the forms saying that the facility can't be held liable for any damages that happen to you. afterwards, you're stripped down and restrained. cuffs around your wrists behind your back as you're bent over a table, chains holding your ankles together. a collar is attached to your neck, connected in two places. one, to hold you still on the table. and the other connected to the ceiling with a lot of slack. you seem to be in a dungeon, iron bars blocking the unlocked exit.

you're left alone and the timer is placed immediately in front of you, counting down, minute by minute. right where you can see it. the restraints are firm and secure, but they each have their give, their weaknesses. the chains on your feet can be undone by looping it around the corner of the table and pulling at it at just the right angle. then you have to move your cuffed wrists behind your back and under your legs so you can use them.

the part of the collar connecting you to the table is dealt with by simply unhooking it, meaning you're able to stand up and move around the room. there's a box with a pile of keys for you to sort through. one of them must open the cuffs. one of them must unlock the bars. you sort through them in a hurry, adrenaline making your cuffed hands shake as you try each and every one of them, adding them gradually to the discard pile. once your hands are free, you fiddle with your collar. it doesn't seem to have any give. but while doing this, you see that on the other side of the iron bars is a bolt cutter, exactly what you need.

you're invigorated, trying all the keys on the bars as the minutes count down. your time is scarce, it's moving far more quickly than you're able to take into account. until finally, the lock clicks. the metal gate swings open and you can see the bolt cutter on the floor right in front of you.

except when you walk forward, the collar around your neck tugs you back. the tool is just out of reach. you can't get enough slack to pick it up. you try desperately, every option you can think of, to stretch your body out and try and kick the bolt cutter closer to you, desperately now as you see you only have three minutes remaining, then two, then one and a half.

until you finally remember the chains on your feet. you hurry back to the table, reaching under it to grab the chains and looking at the time left on the timer. 50 seconds. you hurry back to the iron bars, throwing the chains, trying to lasso the bolt cutter to finally get it in your grasp. and with 20 seconds remaining, the tool hooks onto the end of the shackles on the chains, and you desperately try reeling it in. 15 seconds, and you're pulling it closer, so very carefully. until finally, you reach down and wrap your hands around the tool and that's when your heart sinks.

it wasn't a bolt cutter. it was a toy. lightweight and useless, like something that would go in a child's tool set. and you realise: you were never meant to escape this. you never even had a chance. you had willingly walked into a trap.

your time is up and an alarm sounds, the lighting in the room turning red. the staff walk through the door, heading straight for you, cocks and straps and toys in hand, grins of delight on their faces.

they push you back onto the table and use you exactly how they want to, each and every one of them noticing how soaked you've gotten just from being in the escape room and playing this game, mocking you for what a slut you are as they take you without any preamble.

they use all your holes simultaneously, manhandling you into whatever positions they want. bending you over, taking you from behind. seeing how much can fit into you at once. slapping you about, spitting on you, spanking and whipping, passing you from one to another. never a moment for you to rest or recover before you're impaled on another cock.

all while their mocking voices taunt you.

this is what you were asking for when you came here. this is exactly what you were hoping for. to be used relentlessly. you never wanted to escape anyway, no matter what you'd say. you needed to be used like this. only sluts ever enter these escape rooms, and so you would be treated as what you were. willing holes for them.

once they've all had their turn, they take the toy bolt cutter and shove it into your used hole, fucking you with it slowly. it's too big and uncomfortable, but you stretch around it so easily after all that use. your arousal making it easy. you keep crying out, and they keep laughing. this was the thing you thought would set you free. this was your salvation for twenty minutes or so, all you cared to get. and now they were filling you with it. and worse than that, they were making sure you enjoyed it.

they bring you to an intense orgasm with the very thing you thought would save you. your mind is foggy and you can't think of much aside from the feeling of the toy inside you. you're burning with embarassment.

you came so close to escaping. you were so resourceful and clever about it all. but now you were nothing but holes for them to use until they decided they were done. all that intelligence you used to try and get out would leak out with your arousal as they continued to whore you out. your brain would never work the same once they were done with you. once they had reduced you to something so pathetic.

they aren't done using you. they won't be for a while. and you don't know if you ever want to be done serving them. this is where thinking got you, and now you were being put in your place.