#he could avoid jail…

[yeonggisbitch]

the freaking wood broke idek what it’s called but, is nolan going full soulmatery with shin-ae that he’s going to fall off a balcony like she did?? that’s so goals guys 🥹🥹

[vodka-and-ocs]

the ranger had another stupid idea

[bunnylovesani]

A Marriage Story

Summary: You met your husband Spencer at college and fell in love at first sight. A decade later, he’s struggling to be the man you need after spending months away in prison. Can you find your way back to each other even when outside influences want to keep you apart?

Content warnings: smut, fluff and angst all rolled into one, rough sex, oral sex, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, references to infidelity and divorce

WC: 10.7k

“Can’t sleep?” You peered into the living room to see your husband slouched across the sofa, sporting a stiff, groggy expression as he examined what looked to be a pine-green leatherbound book.

“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” He mumbled in response, barely looking up. Spencer was snarky by nature- it was something you’d grown accustomed to and even found endearing- but you were woefully unprepared for just how much would change following his stint in prison. 

“You can barely read in here, it’s so dark.” You grumbled as you stretched to turn on an orange light posted in the corner. Your fingertips brushed past the bobbly canvas of the lampshade as you recalled how the appliance was a wedding gift. You weren’t exactly sure who bestowed it to you but the memory made you a little misty-eyed. 

“And you don’t have your glasses either.” You muttered under your breath as you readily paced to your bedroom down the hall to retrieve his black-rimmed specs. “Here you go.” You extended your arm out, waiting for him to take them out of your grasp but he paid no notice. 

“Spence.” You nudged him but he just shook his head wordlessly and retreated into his pages even more, squinting profusely. Perching beside him, you tucked his unruly waves out of his face and nestled them behind his ear before carefully sliding on his glasses, letting them rest on the delicate bridge of his nose. 

“Thanks.” He whispered after a while and you tried your best not to sigh at the state of your husband. His under eyes throbbed purple, the darkness consuming them in a veiny, crescent spill. There was no avoiding the way Spencer’s eyes had gradually dullened, as if the light had drained from them entirely. 

“It’s 3 in the morning, my love. Clearly that stiff sofa isn’t doing you any favours, why don’t you try sleeping in our bed tonight?” You hummed, nervously pawing at his forearm in anticipation of his answer. 

“Not tonight.” He dismissed, shaking off your hand as he recoiled from you. 

“You always said that sleeping with me put your mind to rest. Let me scoop you up into my arms and I’ll bet those nightmares will ease right up.” You nuzzled into him playfully, badly craving that now unfamiliar warmth. It had been 3 months since Spencer returned home from jail and another 3 since you’d even slept in the same room. 

“That was back then.” He replied coldly, swallowing a lump in his throat before finally looking up to meet your gaze. “The sofa is just fine now.” 

“So you plan on spending the rest of our marriage sleeping in here, do you?” You laughed in disbelief, overwhelmed by the incredible misfortune that had struck your husband- and by cursed extension, you.

“I didn’t say that.” He ripped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with tired frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I have been more than understanding.” You observed the broken man hunched over before you with both pity and unbridled anger. “But my lenience has a limit. At some point, you have to get over it.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” He snapped back, almost interrupting. 

“Because you won’t tell me.” You countered, blood pressure rising over his incredulous obstinance. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t let me?”

“I don’t need your help.” He scoffed, shuffling back as if the slightest contact with you made his skin crawl. 

“I am your wife.” You uttered solemnly, the words beginning to sound foreign to you both. “Or have you forgotten?”

“How could I? You never leave me alone.” He stated carelessly with such absurd cruelty that it made your heart split in two. 

“Who are you? I don’t even recognise you anymore.” Your voice trembled as tears swelled and you willed yourself not to fall apart entirely right then and there. 

“I don’t recognise myself either.” He murmured inaudibly.

Awkwardly plumping the pillows you had flattened as you rose, you straightened out your cotton nightie and headed towards the solitary bedroom, leaving Spencer glaring shamefully at the floor. 

“Do you remember our wedding day?” You whispered into the doorway, unsure whether he would even hear. 

“Of course I do.” He sighed heavily, as if the memory hurt him and he wasn’t too grateful for the reminder. 

Realising that those were the only words you’d be able to coax out of him tonight, you proceeded down the corridor and slumped into bed defeatedly. The right side of the bed was always kept empty, partly out of habit and partly out of hope that he might, by some miracle, change his mind one of these nights and join you. A particular quote that your husband once read aloud from a Nietzsche book sprang to mind: “In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” He had laughed it off as the words left his perfect lips, dismissing the mournful proclamation as pessimistic melodrama- but now you wondered whether the boy genius had, for once, been wrong. Clutching a rumpled old pillow close to your chest, you thought back to better days as your melancholy lulled you to sleep. 

“Spencer, you’re so annoying.” You playfully slapped his forearm once you caught sight of the little drawings he was leaving in your notebook. “This journal is for my notes, not your mediocre art. Is that one meant to be me?” You pointed at the silly stickman with long hair and a speech bubble declaring ‘I love Spencer’. 

“Well you’re obviously not the ruggedly handsome one.” He gestured at the nerdy-looking bespectacled caricature of himself. It was evident he didn’t have the highest self regard but you couldn’t figure out why- to you, there was no one more perfect. “Do you write about me in your little diary?” He glided the pages out of your reach and began flicking through their contents with a sneer. Knowing exactly what he would find, you allowed him to skim through your written confession as you witnessed his expression soften. 

“I met a guy today in my criminology class.” He muttered, reading an early entry aloud. “I hardly know anything about him, but I’m already certain I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is that crazy? To love a complete stranger? I think I would let him drive me into the furthest depths of insanity if it meant I could hold onto a piece of him forever.” 

You blushed hearing your own words spilling from his lips, recalling the day you met on your first day of college. 

“Wait.” Spencer put your notebook down before frantically rummaging through his backpack to retrieve his own. Yanking out a pine-green leatherbound journal, he flitted through its pages before turning it around and sliding it across the library desk. “Read this here.” He tapped a passage located right around the middle with an impatient forefinger. 

“Okay…” You drawled hesitantly, sliding your textbooks out of the way to focus on the script put before you. “I met a girl today. That doesn’t really happen to me. Liking aforementioned girl is even more of a rarity but today, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. There I was, my nose deep in a second edition tome of Fundamentals of Research in Criminal Justice when someone who could only be described as a blinding ray of sunshine bounded into the lecture hall. When she took a seat in the back row beside me and made a deliciously snide comment over Garland’s incompetency in examining the Lombrosian Project, I knew I was a goner. Note to self: do further research on what it means to be ‘in love’.” 

“Yours was a little more romantic.” He chuckled, observing the incredulous look on your face. 

“Spence…” You shook your head as you grabbed his hand and tried unsuccessfully to convey the complexity of your feelings. “I- I don’t know what to say.” 

“I love you.” He said simply, like he had many times before but you never grew tired of hearing it. 

“I love you too.” You grinned, resisting the urge to kiss him and give surrounding students in the stuffy library a show. 

“Can I ask you something crazy? But promise not to think about it too much.” He chewed on his bottom lip with an almost crazed look in his eyes. 

“You can’t surprise me anymore.” You nodded, giggling. 

“Do you want to get married?” The question made you break out into a flurry of goosebumps, contradicting your last sentence entirely. 

“W-what?” You raised your eyebrows, listening intently for a sign that he was just teasing. 

“Right now. Lets go somewhere and get married.” You scanned his handsome face in shock as you realised he was being serious. 

“B-but we’re only 22. We’re so young.” 

“Yes, we are.” He calmly responded, allowing you to run through all your doubts.

“A-and we still haven’t graduated.” 

“No, we haven’t.” He shook his head.

“And oh, our parents would be so mad!”

“They very well might be. Marry me anyway.” He flashed a broad, toothy smile and the way it made your heart stop gave you the only indication you needed. 

“Okay.” You smiled. 

“Okay?!” He repeated in surprise.

“Okay. I’ll marry you.” 

Spencer shot out of his seat, lifting you up with him as he grabbed you by the face, planting excitable kisses over your lips and cheeks. 

“Don’t we need to make appointments for this kind of thing?” You squeaked out between kisses, the logistical cogs in your mind whirring. 

“Well, baby.” He paused, gazing into your eyes with a mischevious twinkle. “It’s a good thing we live in Vegas.” 

Grabbing each other’s hand with a fervour you thought would last forever, you headed straight to a walk-in chapel, where along with two drunken witnesses you dragged off the street and a pair of vending machine wedding bands, you officiated your love. The haughtily dressed minister, who resembled a cowboy more than a government official thanks to his white, studded getup- took several takes before agreeing to ordain the ceremony. “Crazy kids…” he muttered under his breath when you managed to persuade him, ushering you down the altar with a disapproving sigh.

Spencer marvelled at how you could look so beautiful in a cheap, rented veil and he vowed that day that he would never dare take you for granted. He would make damn sure to remember just how blessed he was, no matter what life threw at him. 

He remained true to his word for the most part, proceeding to spend the next decade or so faithfully by your side. As in most areas of his life, Spencer excelled at being a husband. After his first substantial promotion, he knew exactly what to spend all his savings on: he made a beeline to Tiffany’s for a long overdue engagement ring, surprising you with the small robin’s-egg-blue box on a random Tuesday night. You loved it, of course, and gushed over the lavish diamond, proudly flashing it to anyone who would let you- though you kept your tarnished old band on your bedside table and observed it with nostalgic fondness. 

Every promise Spencer made, Spencer kept. From the silly details down to the crux of your marriage, he was unfalteringly respectful, supportive and always appreciative. 

You certainly weren’t too shabby playing the part of his wife either. Dinner was always on the table, the house was always spick and span and you had no shortage of tight outfits to greet him home dressed up in. You hadn’t ever anticipated your role in life would be that of a housewife but Spencer made it easy- and if you had to be one, a loving, handsome genius was the man for the job. You figured you could do worse.

When the company you worked for years ago filed for bankruptcy and you were too burnt out to look elsewhere, your husband was more than happy to assume his new position as the breadwinner. 

While the thought of relying on a man used to inundate you with horror, this particular man was like something out of a movie- for him, you made every exception, choosing a life of domestic bliss in suburbia over the dreams you once had. You weren’t the most fulfilled woman in the world but you’d never had serious concerns- until this year. It wasn’t Spencer’s habit of overprioritising work, nor his stretch in prison- it wasn’t even the thousand yard stare that painted his face at all hours of the day following his release. 

It was the arrival of the sudden and unprecedented thought that he might actually leave you. 

As many fights as you’d had over the years, the possibility that Spencer may not be the man you spend the rest of your life with had never once crossed your mind- you had it ticked off as a definite and planned your life accordingly around that simple fact. You thought you had agreed that nothing could ever tear you apart. 

But now; the way he recoiled when you came near him and the disdain that dripped from his voice when he spoke to you had you reconsidering whether the man you knew would ever make a return. 

It was your biggest fear and everything your mother had warned you about; her nauseating words gnawed at you as you remembered how staunchly she opposed your impromptu decision to get married. She never really accepted Spencer- choosing instead to graciously tolerate him as a favour to you, but neither of you were under any illusions as to what her real thoughts on the matter were. 

“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up.” The lofty voice of your mother rang out and the air sharply shifted around her. 

“Sorry, mother. I- uh, woke up a little late. Got caught in the midday traffic.” You sniffled, trying your utmost to be subtle over the fact you’d spent all morning weeping pathetically in bed.

“Yes, I suppose that’s something you can afford being unemployed and childless.” She scoffed, suspiciously eyeing up your puffy face. “Though I suspect traffic isn’t to blame on this particular occasion.” 

“Of course it is.” You dismissed, taking a seat before her at the garden restaurant you had agreed to meet for lunch in. It was a little too snooty for your taste, but then so was she. 

Burying your face in the menu before she had the chance to inspect your somewhat ragged appearance further, you tried to ignore her heavy sighing. 

“I worry about you, you know.” She lowered your menu with a pristinely manicured finger. 

“Oh trust me, I know.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the menu back, eyeing up the scandalously named cocktails and wondering how many you could get away with ordering. 

“I’m being serious. Your whole life revolves around him. And he’s a mess. You know what that makes you?” She reached into her handbag and fished for a compact mirror.

“Please, enlighten me.” You groaned as she checked her mauve lipstick. 

“A mess by extension.” She haughtily added, snapping the mirror closed with a snappy click. “And it’s my job as your mother to set you straight.”

“Lucky me.” You muttered, disinterested. 

“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t care how old you get or how much you think you know, I know better. You need to come back down to Earth and realise that your marriage is failing.” She snakes her hand across the table and places it on top of your own. “Prison changes a man. He’s not the Spencer you once knew.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You retorted stroppily. “I know he’s changed but that doesn’t mean we’re going to- we’re not getting a- you know…”

“Divorce?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that.” You shrugged. 

“It fills me with deep concern that you can’t even say the word. How are you going to function when he leaves you?”

“Mother!” You gasped. 

“Oh, if and when, same thing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, her nimble pearl bracelets clinking against one another. “My point is, darling, you must accept that there’s a…significant possibility your life will change. You need to be ready for it.” 

“No.” You shook your head, refusing to let her words sink in. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”

“Oh?” She finally removed her sunglasses and you caught sight of the genuine concern in her steely eyes. “What did he say to you before you left this morning?” 

Your eyes shot to the floor as you remembered how he’d elected to go to work early, leaving the house without a farewell as was his routine these days. Seeing the anxiety and shame written all over your face, your mother sighed yet again. 

“Men in these situations often seek comfort in others.” She softened her tone but not her words. “You’re too close to the situation to make him feel better about it. You know too much.” 

“What are you trying to say?” You squinted. 

“He needs to feel like a man right now. And you can’t give him that.” She innocently sipped from the paper straw floating in her lemon water. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismissed her, the thought of Spencer cheating inconceivable. 

“Look out for the signs. If he’s working late too often, if he has secretive phone calls…” She trailed off. “It can’t hurt to pay attention.” 

Although you tried not to let them, her words had a nagging way of worming themselves into your brain and never coming back out. 

Later that evening, you returned to the empty confines of your house and spent several hours anxiously flitting your eyes to the clock on the wall. He should’ve been home early today. 

“Spence, is that you?” You called out once you heard the faint clicking of the door unlocking. The slow thudding of his heavy footsteps was heard before he entered your bedroom, looking very weary and sporting even more stubble than usual. 

“Who else would it be?” He asked with a shadow of a smile. Offering no explanation, he peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie as he perched on the edge of the bed. 

“Must be a really tough case you’re working on with the amount of overtime shifts you’ve been putting in.” You cleared your throat.

“It’s, uh, it’s been a tricky one. Yeah.” A deafening silence followed his obscure reply.

“Did you give any more thought to taking time off work?” You continued, yearning to wrap your arms around him but resisting. 

“No. I mean, yes I did, but I don’t want any time off. It wouldn’t help, I can hardly stand being at home.” You gulped at the hurtful connotation and he turned around to face you. “No, I didn’t mean like that. Not because of you. You know what I’m trying to say.” 

“Not sure I do.” You muttered under your breath. 

“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I just need time.”

“Of course, Spence, I understand that. It’s only that- well,  i-it’s been 6 months. 6 months of me doting on you and letting you get away with acting and speaking to me however you like. At what point does it end?” Your words had a desperate tinge to them. “I need some kind of indication.”

“I can’t tell you the exact time and date that I will forget everything that happened to me.” He stood up with a huff and you knew you’d touched a nerve.

“Don’t get defensive, I’m just trying to talk to you.” You got up and stood beside him, laying a flat palm to his chest. “To get through to you somehow, anyhow.” 

You could feel his warm, unsteady breath on your skin as he scrunched his eyes shut, wanting to be anywhere but here. 

“Why can’t you talk to me? You used to be able to tell me everything.” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your thumb across his cheek pleadingly. 

“I can’t give you what you want. Not right now.” He gently lowered your hand and stared into your eyes apologetically. 

“We haven’t made love in so long.” You murmured hesitantly and he shot you an irksome look. You hated to bring it up but the pain of his rejection was getting too much to bear- you had to let him know how badly you needed him.

“Is that why you’ve been on my case so much lately?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“No, of course not.” You sighed. “Not the only reason, at least.” 

“Sorry, baby. I’ve been too busy dealing with major trauma to factor in your sex drive.” He quipped sarcastically. 

“That’s not fair, Spencer.” You had anticipated such a response but your heart dropped anyway when you heard it. “It’s not just about that and you know it. I just miss my husband- all of him.”

“Things change.” He mumbled. 

“Well, will they ever change back?” You snapped a little. “Tell me right now, can I get my husband back? Matter of fact, do you even want to come back?” 

Your eyes betrayed you with a steady stream of tears pouring down your reddened cheeks. 

“Do you still want me?” Your voice quivered, praying he wouldn’t take this opportunity to shatter you completely. 

“Yes. I do.” He answered simply though there was an air of conflict about him. “I’ve loved being your husband. I just, I- not now. I just can’t. I can’t do it.” 

He shook his head and paced out to the hall, shutting the living room door loudly once he was safely inside. 

Your blood began to boil. All the grace and understanding you’d shown him this year and he couldn’t even finish a conversation without running away like a coward. 

“You bastard. Come back here right now, Reid.” You barked out, running after him. “Or so help me God-.” 

“You’ll do what?” He opened up, lean figure resting against the door frame. ”You gonna kill me, honey?” 

“I just might!” You shrieked frustratedly. “I’m so unbelievably sick of you doing nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Enough is enough. Wake up and smell the fucking flowers!” You crossed your arms, exasperated and a small smirk spread across his handsome face. “You’re smiling.” 

“Such good attention to detail. This is exactly why I married you.” He winked and you slapped his arm a little too forcefully. “Yes, I’m smiling. You’re adorable when you’re bratty.”

“If being at my wits end with you means being a brat then yes, I’m the biggest brat in the world!” You started bawling- you knew it was irrational but you were too sensitive and overwhelmed with emotion to let his teasing slide.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, shh.” He pulled you in close, pressing your delicate head against his chest. “Come on, my love. You know I can’t stand seeing you cry.” 

“How come you’ve been letting me do it every night, then?” You whimpered, pitiful words swallowed by the fabric of his white work shirt.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He looked down at you, a noxious blend of guilt and sympathy flickering in his tired eyes. “I-I thought you understood.” 

“Understood what?” You let out a muffled murmur as you drew in his heady scent, the musky cologne combined with his sweat soothing your overwrought senses. 

“That even though I’m in a dark place-” He lowered his face until you felt his hot breath against your flushed cheeks. “It doesn’t, for a single second, mean that I don’t love you.” 

“Really?” You gazed up at him lamentably. “It was starting to feel that way, li-like nothing I did was good enough.” 

“I’m sorry.” He almost winced, his regret tangible in how tightly he held you. “It’s not you, you’re perfect. You’ve been patient and understanding and I’ve completely put our marriage on the back burner….there’s no excuse.” He fell back into the sofa, pulling you down into his lap as he gently spoke.

“God it was just the weight of it all- the weight of how long it was taking me to shake it off. The longer it took, the more I felt like a failure and I couldn’t stand coming home to you every night and disappointing you. Seeing the unfalteringly hopeful look on your face and knowing it’d be wiped off after one conversation with me…I started avoiding you.”

“Spence…” You wilted like a flower at his confession.

“But that was selfish, I know that.” He took your face in his hands and professed earnestly. “I can’t apologise enough, my love.” 

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Your heart leapt as your husband’s familiar warmth flooded you- and while you were grateful to get a glimpse of the old Spencer, you were also confused by the abrupt shift in his demeanour- if not suspicious. 

“Honestly? You getting pissed off flipped a switch in me.” He looked just as puzzled as you at the admission. “All this time you haven’t gotten mad once- even when you’re upset, you’re always sweet. I guess it took you acting out of character to make me see just how badly I’ve been treating you. You brought me to my senses by threatening me.” 

“And I’ll make good on that threat if you keep shutting me out.” You wagged a finger at him and he chuckled, clasping your hand and planting a soft kiss over it. 

“If I ever talk to you like that again, you have my full permission to kill me.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You scowled at him playfully and he patted your damp cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, drying the remnants of your tears. 

“I was reading my journal from our college days last night.” He admitted as you soaked up how good it felt to be in his arms again. 

“I knew that dusty old green thing looked familiar!” You bit your lip to contain the smile about to burst through. “Why were you looking through that?” 

“I needed a reminder of what kind of man I vowed to be. To stay true to that little nerd who couldn’t believe his luck when he got to marry you.” He pressed his forehead against yours as he filled your head with words you’d spent the last 6 months dreaming about. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to sleep in our bed again tonight.”

“You mean it, Spence? You really don’t have to if you don’t-“

“No, I really do. You’re my home, baby. And I’ve been away from home for too long.” He pulled you in closer until his lips gently met yours, kissing you so sweetly you thought you might melt. 

“God, I missed you.” You whispered as a shudder ran down your spine, his touch proving to be too much after you’d spent so long deprived. 

“I missed you more. I promise I’ll make it up to you. For all my mistakes.” He cooed but you weren’t even paying attention, all your focus centred on the dizzying way his large palm stroked your back. 

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder against your own. 

“Mhm…” You moaned lazily, allowing him to drag you up and guide you into the comfort of your bedroom, which instantly seemed more welcoming now that you knew he was finally joining you. 

“There, all tucked in.” He beamed after stuffing the edges of the duvet beneath your languid body. “I just need to change and brush my teeth, I’ll be right in.” He kissed your forehead and sauntered over to the adjoining bathroom. 

Before you could surrender to sleep, you pawed clumsily at the nightstand in search of your phone, overcome with the urge to message your mother- you just had to let her know she was wrong. Composing a text to assure her your marriage was no longer in danger, you sent it through with a satisfied sigh. Unexpectedly, the screen lit up not a moment after you’d put it down, accompanied by a quiet chirp that let you know she had sent one back. 

“Don’t let your guard down. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Her ominous words pulsed off the screen and left you feeling queasy. 

“Remember what I said. Look for the signs.” A second text flashed across the screen. 

You dropped the phone with a shaky clatter, as if your hands couldn’t wait to be rid of the thing. How could she remain insistent that Spencer had been cheating when he’d given next to no indication of it? You would’ve chalked it all down to her longstanding aversion to him and fallen into a peaceful slumber- if it wasn’t for the muttering you heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door. 

Like a jumpy cat, you raised yourself against the headboard at once and listened with bated breath. Struggling to make out a complete sentence as the running water smothered his words, you cautiously crept over to the door and ever so slightly pressed your ear against it. 

“I appreciate that but I can’t. We’ll have to reschedule.” Spencer’s muffled voice rang out, sounding slightly stressed. “No, I’m not thinking about leaving. I know I need you. Yes. Everything’s fine, I’m just not free tonight.” 

You let out an exasperated breath, in pure disbelief over what you’d overheard. Before you could gather your thoughts, the tap stopped running and you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, prompting you to leap into bed and swathe yourself amongst the covers. 

“You asleep already, baby?” He whispered when he emerged from the bathroom, pressing his warm, pyjama-clad body flat against yours. You said nothing, remaining as still as a church mouse as he cosily nestled his face into the crook of your neck and dozed off. While your husband enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in the better part of a year, you spent the remainder of the night staring into the expanse of your dark ceiling, paralysed with fear. 

A Saturday morning was usually yours and Spencer’s favourite day of the week; it meant you could sleep in, have breakfast in bed and make love until noon all in glorious succession. This particular Saturday was markedly different- partly because Spencer had been called into work- and partly because you couldn’t go a second without driving yourself crazy thinking about his affair. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Hotch is insisting he needs the whole team together.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he hopped around in a struggle to get his socks on. You sat up in bed and nodded complacently, not wanting to set off any alarm bells to your profiler husband. “Hey babe?” He asked, fiddling with his tie. 

“Hm?” You smiled innocuously. 

“How would you feel if you had to start working again?” He bit his lip and looked at you, full of intrigue. “Would you manage?”

“Umm, I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, caught off guard completely by his question. “Why do you ask?” 

“Didn’t you have dreams? Goals you wanted to accomplish?” He asked sincerely and a thinly veiled panic began to rise in you. 

“Sure, I guess. I didn’t plan on abandoning them but- I don’t know, life got in the way and other things took priority.” 

“Hm. Okay.” He looked absorbed in thought as he grabbed his blazer. “I’ve got to run- how about I meet you for dinner at that new steakhouse in town? We’ve got a lot of things to discuss.” 

“We do?” You gulped. 

“I know I do.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as you desperately tried to read his body language. “See you later.” 

“Bye, honey.” You choked out as he breezed out the door, leaving you with bile rising up your throat. 

You hated to admit it, but your mother was right. 

“And-and then he told her he needed her!” You blubbed down the phone when you finally plucked up the courage to call her later that day. “And don’t you dare say you told me so!”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Your mother retorted dishonestly. 

“But that’s not all- before he left this morning, he was asking me how I’d feel if I had to start working again!” You whined, your body racked with so much anxiety it made you nauseous. 

“He’s trying to gauge how you’d cope if you no longer had him to financially rely on.” She sighed knowingly. “He’s trying to subconsciously prepare you. It’s almost thoughtful- in his own strange, dysfunctional way. Typical Spencer.”

“You really think this is it? He’s done with me?” You sniffed, desperately hanging onto the last thread of hope. “This might just all be a big misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, the late nights, the phone call, the interrogation about your career. And the spontaneous apologetic outburst. It’s clear to see he’s bursting at the seams with guilt.” She tutted, feigning sympathy- but you knew she’d been waiting for Spencer to slip up for years. As much as it might have pained her to see her daughter like this, the satisfaction of knowing Spencer was almost out of her life outweighed the anguish. 

“So now what do I do?” You whinged, the last thread snapped. 

“You’re going to dress up in the tightest outfit you have, drive down to that restaurant and tell him you want a divorce.” She instructed with her signature self-assured candidness. 

“B-but I don’t want a divorce.” You mumbled meekly, acutely aware of how pitiable you sounded. 

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.” 

Her words resounded in your aching brain as you rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit that fit the brief, ultimately settling on a satin black mini dress- Spencer’s favourite. 

Driving to the restaurant rehearsing your parting words was nothing short of excruciating. You adored your husband just as much as you did the day you first met; spotting him in that lecture hall, shiny brown hair slicked back as he twiddled a pen between his spindly fingers and scrunched his eyebrows up in displeasure at the set text. It was like a bolt of lightning struck you- love at first sight. 

How did you get to the point of divorce? Your brain was racked with potential guesses as to where along the line you lost him. Were you not interesting enough? You wanted to get your career back on track but you assumed Spencer would prefer a stay-at-home wife. Is that where you went wrong? Perhaps some woman at work was more engaging, perhaps he had more mutual interests with her than his boring wife. 

Pulling into the parking lot, you braced yourself to head for the entrance and find your soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would get the car in the divorce? He paid for it so you supposed the courts would award it to him. 

“Oh God.” You muttered under your breath, head spinning as you waited inside for a hostess. If you went by that logic, you’d be left with nothing. 

“Do you have a reservation?” The young worker hobbled over breathlessly. 

“Uh- probably, under a Mr Reid.” You twiddled your thumbs as she searched her database.

“Oh, he’s already been seated, just down there.” She pointed in his direction and you saw the back of his head, luscious curls nestling around the base of his neck. You sighed, he was going to be a tough one to get over. 

“Baby, there you are.” He rose from his seat to plant a quick kiss on your cheek and as always, pull out your chair. Where were you going to find someone as gentlemanly as him? “Are you okay?” 

“Sure.” You managed a small smile though you were sure he saw right through it. 

“I’ve already ordered us some wine, they had that white zinfandel you like.” He said, pouring you a glass.

“Trying to get me drunk, Reid?” You swirled the liquid around, inhaling the sweet aroma. 

“From half a bottle?” He chuckled nervously, your mannerisms already causing suspicion. “No, I want you sober for tonight.” 

“That’s unkind.” You muttered unintelligibly, knocking back your glass in one go. 

“Woah, slow down.” He cautioned as you clinked your glass against the bottle, prompting him to hesitantly pour you another. 

“You sure everything’s okay?” 

“Yes, great. What did you need to talk to me about?” You braced yourself for impact. 

“Okay, well, I know it would be a big change but just hear me out. I think in the long run, it’d be better for you if-“

“Actually, no. Everything’s not okay.” You slurred, the alcohol already impairing your senses. 

“Oh? What’s the matter?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his wedding band. 

“I want a divorce.” You blurted out tastelessly.

“You- what?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he blinked rapidly. “A divorce?”

“You heard me.” You gulped, trying your hardest to be stern even though you were about to fall apart. “You’ve run out of chances with me.” 

“Baby, what? I-I know it’s been rocky but I thought we talked it through? You seemed just fine last night, I don’t understand.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised so high a painful-looking row of wrinkles stacked up on his forehead. 

“I thought we were fine too, but I was wrong.” You took another glug of liquid courage as you avoided eye contact, knowing you would cave if you took even one glance at his big, round eyes. 

“I know I don’t have much room to complain after what I’ve put you through but can’t we at least talk about it first?” He pleaded, heart jumping out of his chest. 

“What is there to talk about, Spencer? You couldn’t come to me so you closed yourself off and found comfort in another woman- God knows how long this has been going on while I’ve been here pining after you like an idiot-“

“What?” He raised his hand, signalling you to pause your rambling.

“Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been cheating on me.” You scoffed, determined not to fall victim to his gaslighting. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” His mournful expression was replaced by one of bewilderment. 

“I heard you last night on the phone to her. Who is she?” You cocked your head, a little smug over the fact that you’d caught him- what kind of a genius calls his mistress while his wife’s next door? 

To your surprise, Spencer broke out into a laugh, taking his head into his hands as he shook it in relief. “You got me, baby. You caught me.” He smiled dazedly. 

“I did, so I don’t know why you’re smiling.” You scowled.

“You caught me talking to my therapist.” He shot you an unimpressed glare. “I started seeing her 2 weeks ago and I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up. But Jesus, baby. Divorce? That’s where you landed?” 

“It’s not just that!” You jumped to your own defence. “How do you explain all the late nights at work- and that conversation we had this morning about my career?”

“That’s what I was going to talk to you about today. I got you a job.” He stated. 

“Huh? Why?” You gawked, hesitant to believe anything he said. 

He took a deep breath, shuffling his chair a little closer and taking your hand. 

“Look, baby, I know you try your hardest to be a great wife. Too hard, if anything, and you’ve always been exceptional and far too good for me. As much as I love your dedication, you need to think about your own needs and prioritise those for a change. It’s no secret that you’ve been feeling unfulfilled for a while now, I can see it from a mile away. I should’ve addressed it sooner but, well, you know.”

“Spence?” You shook your head in uncertainty, wondering how you could’ve been so wrong.

“I should’ve never let you give your career up. I should’ve pushed you harder but I just loved having you at home all the time, it’s selfish, I know. My job is stressful but it gives me a sense of purpose, one I know you crave.” He explained, trying not to giggle at your awestruck face and your inability to form a single sentence. “What I’m saying is, I want to see you reignite that old passion you had. How would you feel about joining me in the BAU?” 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for his admission and tears of shock and immense relief began coursing down your face. “Spencer, I can’t believe this.”

“In hindsight, I should’ve talked to you about it first but I thought it might be a nice surprise- I’m an idiot, you don’t have to take it, of course, if you don’t want to.” He backtracked, suddenly aware of how flawed his plan was. 

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time.” You uttered softly. 

“R-really? You want to do it?” He raised his eyebrows in that adorably curious way of his. 

“I don’t know how you managed to figure out I wanted a job before I did, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I want to do it.” You nodded, too consumed with excitement to mull over your embarrassingly wrong assumptions.

“Now, it’s only a low-level position for the time being, just to ease you into the transition but you have the potential to-“

“I’ll be with you.” You smiled simply.

“Yes, for the most part. I thought it’d be a good way to spend more time together- not including the times when I’d have to fly out and can’t take you with me yet, although-“

“Spencer.” You interrupted him. “Thank you.” 

“Well, of course. Anything for you.” He squeezed your hands and you felt the anxiety throb away. “Can’t believe you thought I was cheating.”

“You gave me some major indicators!” You scrunched your face up awkwardly. “And my mother pointed out that-“

“Ah, there we go.” He sighed, unimpressed. “That woman has had it out for me for the better part of a decade.” 

“Sorry, baby, you know she has a talent for burrowing inside my head.” You confessed shyly, aware you should’ve known better. 

“I’m going to talk to her.” Spencer declared.

“Huh?” 

“First thing tomorrow, we’re going to her house and I’m throwing it all out there. After a decade of pent-up resentment, it’s time.” 

Spencer usually avoided your mother at all costs, electing to work overtime on weekends when she decided to visit and often coming down with mysterious ailments during the holidays that prevented him from attending her get-togethers.

“Can’t wait to see how that turns out.” You chuckled gleefully. “And therapy, baby? Wow. I’m so proud of you.” 

“I was sceptical at first but I think it’s helping- I’m learning to compartmentalise the issues and most importantly, not take them out on you.” He stared into your eyes and your breath hitched; even after so many years, he had a way of making you feel impossibly shy. 

“You sound like a new man, Mr Reid.” You teased, the wine floating around your bloodstream in a way that made you deliciously fuzzy.

“It’s all because of you, Mrs Reid.” A smirk tugged at his lips. 

“So we’re really okay?” You asked in disbelief, immeasurably relieved that the rollercoaster seemed to be at an end. “What now?”

“I’ll tell you.” He drawled in a softly seductive tone. “We’re going to order dinner and dessert, I’m going to get you a little too drunk.” He dropped his hand to your thigh, trailing up it as he spoke. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.” 

“Oh.” You squeaked, breaking into tingles at the prospect. 

“That sound good, doll?” He kneaded your inner thigh and you felt your body go numb as words failed you. “I thought so.”

Seeing that the bottle on your table was glisteningly empty, Spencer beckoned over a waiter.

“Give me your most expensive wine.” He smirked while ordering. “We’re celebrating.”

Although he was a law-abiding federal agent, Spencer ran more than a few red lights that evening given the ravenous way his wife stared at him from the passenger seat, crawling out of her skin with the desire to touch him. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, you were both in a desperate rush to get inside. You clawed at Spencer’s shirt while he shakily tried to unlock the door, trembling with anticipation. 

“H-hang on, baby.” The sound of clinking keys mixed with his groans. “God…”

You left messy, wet kisses all down his neck as he finally pushed the door open, taking you into his arms and guiding you indoors. 

“Right- mm, here.” You whined between kisses, gesturing at the sofa as you kicked your heels off. 

“My desperate girl, can’t even wait long enough to get to the bedroom.” He teased as he pushed you down onto the couch, hooking onto the waistband of your tights with his bony fingers and slowly dragging them down your legs- leaving small kisses down your thighs and calves in the process. 

You let out impatient whimpers as he folded your dress up over itself and dragged down your panties.

“Were these your ‘I’m a strong woman’ divorce panties?” He chuckled as he yanked the tiny lace garment off your feet and threw it behind him. 

“I needed as much confidence as I could muster.” You pulled him closer by the tie for a heated kiss. “I was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“You could never lose me.” He stared into your eyes with a dizzying intensity that made all the blood rush to your heat. “You’re my wife…” He drawled huskily as he ripped the front panel of your dress open. “Until the day I die.” Looping his fingers around it, he tore the material further with a loud tug, leaving your bare tits bouncing out of the tight fabric. “You jump to conclusions like it’s a full-time job.” He pressed his lips against your hot skin. “But I love you.” You wanted to laugh but a moan escaped your lips instead when he wrapped his tongue around one nipple, grasping the other with a rough hand. “And my God, do you have the best tits I’ve ever seen.” 

You raked your fingers through his thick, messy hair as you squirmed beneath him, sure that if he made you wait any longer you’d start crying. 

“Patience, baby. You’ll get it.” He whispered, dragging his lips down your body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left sloppy, open-mouth kisses along your thighs, so near your heat you could feel his warm breath fanning it. 

“P-please, Spence, please.” You muttered, bucking your hips to close the distance between you.

“You know I always give my girl what she wants.” He breathed heavily, snaking his arms around your shaky hips and tugging you closer to drag his tongue across your clit. You melted into the sofa as he sucked on your most sensitive spot, locking you into an unescapable vice with his strong arms. 

“Mmh…” You threw your head back, still squirming as he ate you with such passion and hunger that you committed every godless detail to memory. His hair became increasingly dishevelled as you twisted it into messy knots, fidgeting with the curls as he licked broad stripes up your clit with fanatical force. 

“Fuck, fuck…” You grew delirious as he sped up, legs trembling from how good he was making you feel; you desperately pressed yourself further against his mouth, wanting to be devoured until there was nothing left. 

“Can-can I, please, can you- oh God.” You rambled nonsensically as he showed no sign of slowing down, worshipping you with his tongue until you felt like blacking out. He groaned in approval as he flitted across your wet slit aggressively, knowing it pushed you over the brink every time. It had been months since he’d had you wrapped around his neck like this, panting in that slutty way that drove him wild- and as much as he wanted to savour it, he couldn’t wait much longer to have you. As you pushed his head down, he sucked so sloppily that the sounds emanating were nothing short of pornographic.

“Spencer!” You moaned out sinfully while you came, gripping his shoulders with your thighs as you dissolved into a mushy, whiney mess. Your hips twitched as he pulled away from you, wiping the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt. 

“No need to yell, I’m right here.” He grinned, deriving great pleasure from seeing you fall apart. 

“Oh God, I’ve forgotten how good you are that.” You winced, trembling from the force of your release. 

“I’ll make sure you never forget again.” He smirked into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, barely giving you any time to come to as he ripped off the remnants of your dress. “Sorry about that, doll- I’ll buy you a new one.” 

“It was my divorce dress, I never would’ve worn it again.” You giggled as you helped him out of his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, desperate to feel him inside you. Your back arched instinctively as soon as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit; your head rolled back as you felt him slide in teasingly slow, letting you feel every last inch as he spread you apart and scattered sensual kisses down your neck. An obscene moan left your lips when he buried himself as deep inside you as he could. 

“Spence, fuck, I don’t know if- ah.” You struggled to get the words out as he stared down at you with amusement. “Too big, I-“

“A few months without my dick and you’ve forgotten how to take it?” He jeers, a twisted smile radiating from him. “That’s no good at all, baby. We’re gonna have to teach you all over again.” 

You bit your lip to conceal the whimper that threatened to spill as you nodded obediently, hanging off his every word. 

“Breathe.” He pulled out by just an inch or two, ensuring you would barely notice before slowly pushing his hips forward and plunging himself to the hilt. 

His hair dangled over his forehead, the unruly locks almost tickling you as he hovered above you, waiting for you to adjust to his thick length. 

“Mm…” You peeped, looking at him coyly like butter wouldn’t melt. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before you nodded. With the thousands of times you’d made love, he knew the meaning of every subtle cue and whimper; he knew you were often too shy to speak so he let you get away with using your varying whines as a form of communication. His dirty talk overwhelmed you, leaving you flustered and speechless- and he knew just how much you loved it.  

Spencer pulled out half his length this time, grabbing you by the jaw to hold you lovingly as he thrusted in and out, making sure to look you in the eyes as his swollen cock massaged your walls. Ever the shy one, you tried averting eye contact and looking away from his intense glare but he gently guided you back with a firm hand. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made love to you, your twisted eyebrows and parted lips too sweet to ignore.  

You cried out when his thrusts grew rougher, panting heavily as he fucked you even harder than you remembered. 

“You can take it, baby.” He cooed as he fucked you deep and slow. “I know you can.” He pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back in, coated in glistening arousal. “Deep breaths for me, doll.” He breathed with you, setting a tempo as you struggled to get anything but your whorish moans out.

“You like it when I stretch this little pussy out?” He groaned, wet flesh and skin smacking against hip bone. “Yeah you do.” He smirked as your cheeks flushed red at his lewd words. “How were you going to go through with a divorce? You can’t even tell me you like the way I fuck you.” 

“Spencer!” You gasped, partly at his vulgarity and partly at the way his tip just brushed against your deepest spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“What, baby?” His hands trailed their way down to your hips as he sat up, gripping the handles of your body tightly as he fucked you onto himself. “We both know you could never find someone who fucks you this good again. Who pounds into your cunt exactly the way you need it.” Your jaw dropped at his crude words- he’d always had a penchant for making you flustered but it was clear that prison had made him even rougher around the edges. As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you couldn’t deny the truth to what he’d said; there was no upgrading after Spencer.

“You’re cockier than I remember.” You manage to breathe out, glassy eyes watering with overstimulation. 

“And you’re tighter than I remember.” He smirked maniacally as he started rubbing rough circles into your clit, not slowing down the way he was sorely pummelling into you. “Goddamn, angel, you take me so well.” He muttered under his breath as he observed the mouthwatering way in which your pussy swallowed his entire length, gushing with arousal as the wet smacking intensified. 

He swooped down to kiss you, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth as he pushed your knees against your chest. “You feel that?” He shuddered, guiding your hand to your stomach where his member was poking through the flesh, leaving an imprint.

“Uh huh.” You panted.

“You like having my cock this deep in your guts?” In an unexpected move, he pressed down on your lower stomach as you nodded to his question desperately. You screamed in blinding ecstasy as you reached your peak, the borderline cruel way in which Spencer continued pounding against your sweet spot proving too much to take. 

“Look at that, I got my answer.” He licked his lips at the sight of his cock glazed in creamy arousal as he pulled out with a groan. You lay motionless on the cushy sofa, limbs numb as you noticed the scowl Spencer was sporting on his chiselled face, small beads of sweat running down his temples. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled darkly. 

“Resting?” You upturned your eyebrows sweetly. 

Before you could protest, he dragged you down the sofa and turned you over, positioning you to arch your back and expose your throbbing pussy to him. 

“You think I’m going to let you get away with one round?” He spanked your ass with a firm, open palm. “I know you’ve been whining about this all the time to your friends. I know how desperate you’ve been for your husband to fuck you. Well, honey- I’ll give you something to talk about.” Before you could respond, he guided his veiny cock into your squishy walls, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch as he pounded into you from the back. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He demanded as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, holding your back flush against his body. “You wanted to be fucked like a whore? Answer me.” 

“Yes! Yes, Spence, I want it so bad, treat me like a slut.” You surprised yourself with your sinful words, the rough treatment prompting you to act out of character. He pushed you back onto the bed, holding you down as he drilled into you with dizzying speed. The couch squeaked with the force of your face getting pressed into the pillows as you panted so breathily you thought your heart might give out. You bit into the cushions as drool seeped freely from your mouth and wet the dark grey fabric. 

“Harder…” You murmured, barely audible.

“What was that?” Spencer asked in disbelief, slowing down a little to make your words out clearly. 

“Harder. I want you to fuck me to within an inch of my life.” You confessed sultrily and a dangerous smirk crept across your husband’s face. 

“Anything for you.” He was more than happy to comply with your request.

You spent all night tangled up in each other’s bodies, taking turns being mind numbingly rough and tooth achingly sweet. He whispered confessions of love in your ear one minute and he pinned you down hard enough to leave bruises the next. It was, without a doubt, the best night of your life.

Waking up the next day in Spencer’s arms gave you more euphoria than any drug ever could. He smelled of last night’s wine and sweat, intermingled with the floral detergent of your freshly washed sheets. 

“Good morning, baby.” He cooed when he saw your eyes flutter open. “Or rather, good afternoon. How’d you sleep?” 

“Never better.” Your husky voice replied. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.” 

“I guess I’ll have to carry you to your mother’s, then.” He chuckled, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his smooth, bare chest. 

“What? You’re not still serious about doing that.” You looked up at him pleadingly. 

“Oh, yes I am.” He scolded playfully. “She convinced you I was having an affair and encouraged you to get a divorce. I’d say there’s a conversation to be had there.”

“You know, I really wish you weren’t so respectable sometimes.” You dreaded the prospect of such a confrontation. 

“There was nothing respectable about the way I was splitting you open last night.” He countered mischeviously and you rolled your eyes to distract from the blush creeping over your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy us breakfast on the way. Get dressed.” 

“But Spence!” You tried to argue but he had already climbed out of bed, humming showtunes on his way to the bathroom. With a hefty sigh, you swung your legs round the side of the bed and started searching for your underwear. 

“Are you sure? It’s not too late to turn around.” You twiddled your thumbs standing outside your mother’s house, her near-black wooden door looming over you as you waited for her to answer. 

“Yes. Stop being a wimp.” Spencer replied just before the door swung open.

“Oh. Hi darling.” She eyed you up before slowly turning her head. “Hello Spencer.” 

“There’s my favourite mother-in-law. We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast.” He lifted the brown paper bag containing drive through diner food. 

“As if I’d eat that.” She raised her eyebrows contemptously. 

“Come on, mom, are you gonna let us in or not?” You piped up after seeing she had no intentions of making things easy for Spencer. 

“Yes, fine, in you come.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside, letting you both enter her lavish home. 

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He commented a little snarkily, noticing the extensive remodeling work that had been done.

“Oh yes, we did it last spring. I suppose you haven’t been round for years so you wouldn’t know. Are you avoiding me, Spencer?” She took a seat across from you both in the living room. 

“Me? Never. Just like you’d never convince my wife to get a divorce, right?” He quipped and your stomach twisted over how little it took them to start arguing- you’d only just walked in through the door. 

“I’ve only ever advocated for what’s best for her.” She stuck her nose up at her son-in-law. 

“And why are you so certain that’s not me?” He snapped, genuine curiousity tinging his voice. 

“You’re not good enough.” She replied with a resoluteness that must’ve hurt. 

“Why, mom? What’s so bad about Spence?” You asked. 

“He’s just not who you were supposed to end up with. You were not meant to give up your life to be a housewife to a mediocre man.” She answered simply, like she didn’t even have to think about it. 

“So you resent him because of my career choices?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little as she shrugged. “Mother, I chose to leave the field. He had nothing to do with it, he supported me-“

“Oh, I bet he did. Having a woman at home to cook and clean must’ve been too tempting of an offer to pass up.” She scratched at her right arm- a leftover habit from the nicotine patches she used years ago. She claimed she quit smoking but you suspected she’d be in dire need of a cigarette after this conversation. 

“That’s ridiculous-“

“She’s right.” Spencer interrupted you. “I was more than happy to have you at home. I preferred it, really. And I didn’t say a word even though I knew you were making a mistake, even though I knew it wouldn’t make you happy.” 

“See. The pipe cleaner admits it.” She scoffed and you shot her a venomous glare. “Not to mention what you’ve put her through this year.” 

“I know I haven’t by any means been a good husband, but I wouldn’t cheat and I’d never want a divorce. I’m trying to make things right.” He confessed earnestly. 

“How?” She scowled, clearly believing him to be beyond redemption. 

“He got me a job at the BAU.” You chimed in, wanting to see the smugness wiped off her face. 

“And I’m seeing a therapist.” Spencer continued. “I’m determined to be better.” 

She sat there in silence, incapable as always of expressing any remorse. 

“I love your daughter and I’m not going anywhere. I’d like it very much if we could somehow start over.” He shot her those puppy dog eyes of his and you sincerely believed if she didn’t give in, she must be the only woman in the world immune to his charms. 

“Alright. Alright, Spencer.” She sighed after a short contemplation. “If my little girl is happy, I suppose I have no choice.” 

“The bastard actually managed it.” You thought as you witnessed his beaming smile flood the room with light, his vibrancy so infectious you knew even your mother noticed. 

“Glad to hear it, mom.” He joked and she choked on the water she had begun to sip.

“Don’t push it.”

“Told you it’d all work out.” He said excitedly while he opened the car door for you, practically skipping out of your mother’s house. 

“I know, and she actually invited you round?!” You shook your head in disbelief as he started the engine and drove away from her gated residence. 

“Maybe we’ll make these trips a weekly habit.” He suggested, resting his hand soundly on your thigh. 

“Not every week. I need some alone with my handsome husband.” You gushed, admiring his perfect side profile. 

“You must have me confused with someone else, lady.” He chuckled as he switched on the radio. “Oh my God, baby! This song!” 

“No way, I haven’t heard this since, since-“

“That time in college.” He winked at you and you threw your head back in laughter, precious memories flooding your mind as the familiar pop tune hummed on. 

“Yeah. That was the first and last time we ever do it on a carnival pedal boat.” 

“Hey, never say never- I see a lake right over there.” He pointed out the window as you drove by.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” You slapped his arm playfully. “Those days are behind us, we’re old and boring now.”

“If this is boredom, sign me up for eternity.” A warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“God, I love you, Spencer Reid.” 

“I love you even more, Mrs Reid.”

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 14

Tim was the best thing to ever happen to Danny.

He didn't mean that just because how much of a sappy romantic he was to Tim, but because he literally saved him from his own mind.

Danny was never going to leave Amity Park so long as the portal was open.

The portal would always remain open between his parents practically treating it like thier third child and thier ability to simply make another if anything would have happened to that one. Not to mention the super creep named Vlad.

So Danny would have stayed in Amity forever, cleaning up after his parents and being miserable.

Or ya know. Until they managed to kill him.

But then Tim came into his life and fixed everything. He befriended Danny over nightime rooftop rendezvous and groaning at his dumb (read awesome) puns.

As they got closer Sam and Tucker seemed to get both anxious and angry. Were they jealous? What right did they have after the Gregor incident?! Its true that they'd both been to busy to hand out with Danny for the past few weeks, leaving Danny with only Tim to turn to for company.

Tim pointed out that they may feel threatened knowing someone else knows his secret and Danny couldn't help but agree.

Tim pointed out that Danny was going to be stuck here cleaning up after his parent the rest of his life if he didn't find a way to stop the portal. Danny had nearly broke down at that and admitted he didn't know what else to do, so Tim devised a plan with that big beautiful brain of his.

They created a machine that ran on ectoplasm and magic that could wipe information from both technology and the human brain. They could remove all traces of ghosts ever existing in this town and erase 20 years of knowledge and research from Vlad and the Fentons minds, but it would come at a cost as magic usually does.

They would have to forget Danny existed as well. Tim offered that they could run away together.

Danny decided that was okay. The only person he had left in this town who had cared about him was Jazz and she was better off without him there to get her hurt.

Tim also had a plan to strip Vlad of his powers as well as his knowledge, and Danny was looking forward to not having to deal with him anymore

It was the day after everything went down, Tim was driving the GAV while Danny flew in the Ops Centers Jet form. They had made sure to swipe everything they could from the labs as well as everything the thought they needed to travel to Tims home dimension.

Danny had promised to help Tim uncover the secrets of his past and who he really was and to do that they essentially planned to travel around the Earth being wandering criminals.

Between Tims intellect and Dannys powers they were undefeated and unnoticed. They stole whatever they wanted and did whatever they pleased, making sure no one had to get hurt unless there was no other options.

Of course they stole cash from bank vaults as well as whatever else was in there. They couldn't stop Phantom from entering since anti-meta tech didn't affect him and couldnt track Phantom due to him being whatever he was plus the collar Tim had helped Danny design that covered up his ecto-signature.

They lived like this for over a year, breaking in to abandoned places, having waterfights in large city waterfountains (and running when they heard police sirens), tagging some of the places they'd hit when they wanted to leave a message, long romantic walks at night, lots of laughter, going on dates to restaurants (they never dine & dash. Some places make the wait staff pay which is bull and they might want to return to that establishment at some point), that one time they stole a $900 wedding cake from a homophobic bakery owner, lots of Fake out-Make outs to avoid getting sent to jail, ect.

They were having the time of thier lives up until they stopped in a little 24 hour diner in Bludhaven. They were doing what they usually do, flirting and laughing until the waiter takes thier order, when a guy approached thier table. Tim and Danny exchanged worried looks before the guy held up his hands in mock surrender, "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise, I'm Dick Grayson." The man held out his hand to Tim, who hesitated before shaking it, "Tim," he answered honestly.

Danny nudged him with his foot under the table.

The man smiled wide, "Like Tim Drake?"

Tim and Danny looked confused, "Like who?" Danny asked and Dicks smile faltered

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.

it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.

luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.

now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.

"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.

"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."

your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.

“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”

jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“

“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”

deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.

“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”

on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.

“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“

“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”

you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”

“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” his calloused thumb rubs across your cheek, and a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.

˚❀˚

[audisive]

♪ MILLION DOLLAR MAN. (💌)

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: you need a bodyguard, and simon's the only one you can trust. for now.

tags: fluff, angst (ish), hurt/comfort, romance, soft!simon, bodyguard!ghost, model!reader, trust issues, hints to a panic attack, you have a bad dad (and family)

        There's an ugly yellow folder on your vanity, sticking out like a sore thumb.

That's the first thing you see.

There's a hitch in your breath before you speak. "Vel," you walk over to your desk and call out to the lovely girl with your coat over her arm, your favorite maid. "What's this?" With manicured nails, you pick up the folder cautiously with the feeling of familiarity and déjà vu.

Veliana tilts her head to the side, the clueless little bird she is. "A folder, miss." You huff a smile out at her simple response, the pretty little thing never knowing better. "Please give Noah a call." You tell her and she nods her head automatically, still smiling at you.

When she carefully places your coat on the rack, she scurries off to who knows where. You're left in the comforts of your too-large room, a delicate piece of work that you'd paid thousands of dollars for after your face had snatched the interests of magazines, reporters, and such. You find that there are even uglier men inside when you open the flimsy thing in your hand.

Veliana is breathless when she comes back to you like the obedient girl she is, handing over the phone with your manager's name on it.

"What's wrong, darling girl?" Noah asks, annoyance seeping into his tone despite the usual pet name. "What's with the profiles?" you question right back, flipping through the folders, carefully scanning each gruesome man with horrifying detail. You already know the answer, but you dread it.

"About time you actually considered my suggestion," he voices out. "You need a new bodyguard."

  You find that your new bodyguard is just as noticeable as the folder you threw away without much thought. There's people staring at him when they would be gawking at you. 

Simon Riley is a trusted man; at least that's what you try to tell your manager. A remarkable 6'4 military man who should be off in a bar with beer – he drinks whiskey, imbecile – or resting in a broke-down apartment, not babysitting his model of a friend. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded it if he acted just a little annoyed at you, but he doesn't even spare you so much as a glare. You're not sure if you should be glad or not.

You have to admit that you do feel a little smug when your manager avoids yelling at you with Simon glaring daggers at him. Then again, there's this anxious feeling pooling at your stomach when he gets a little too close. He's certainly scarier than the last one.

His large hand calms you down when it lands on your lower back and sneaks his warmth through your thin clothing. You let out a breath, as if he'd just commanded you to do so without a word.

  Simon should be in his awfully empty apartment, sleeping the day off or making a small trip to the groceries for necessities fresh out of deployment. But when he opened the door to you, who's clearly so troubled and almost begging to help you out with.. whatever it was you asked, how could he say no? 

"It's just temporary, I swear. I just need some time to do a proper background check on the other bodyguards."

Given that your shitty father's in jail with unfinished as well as illegal business, it wouldn't be proper of him to let a civilian walk around with danger right at her back. That's what he says to himself, anyway.

He's just not so sure he signed up for the right job as a bodyguard. Truth be told, he would've preferred to be your boyfriend.. but as long as he has rights to protect you, then he won't complain.

He's well aware of the men coming for your neck for a variety of reasons. Some out of jealousy – Simon thinks that the fashion industry might as well be a warzone. Maybe that's why he accepted this in the first place – and some because of your problematic family.

He's also heard about your past cowardly bodyguards, if you can even call them that after they'd left you in the face of death. It's a wonder how you're still alive, but he wouldn't dare question it.

It doesn't help, not really, when there's an ear-deafeaning explosion and a panicked angel in his arms, clutching onto him for dear life. "Simon," you all but whimper, labored breaths and uncontrollable tears slipping out of you.

He hushes you, coos at you as sweet as he possibly can. He soothes you and cradles you against his chest as he shoots back at death and carries you to safety when the storm of chaos calms. And he never leaves. Not once.

Not even when you're well and sitting on the cold bed of an even colder hospital room. You'd begged him to stay and lay with you, and when he does, you insist that you owe him your life, and he tells you he's just doing his job.

Still, you can't help that you push yourself closer to him. "Thank you," you whisper, "for staying."

"'M yours to keep." Simon gruffs out, "my loyalty and life belongs to you. All of it." And so does his heart.

(bodyguard!ghost is just modern knight!ghost to me :3c)

        divider by @cafekitsune !

[spdrvyn]

miguel and his sunshine human gf that loves to annoy the shit out of him and sometimes in order to stop her/calm her down he has to put her in an air jail 🤭

ardor and annoyance

miguel and reader who's a bundle of energy and joy. having to tame your late night rituals is no easy task, but it's one that he's always willing to take. what's more important than having your dear lover in bed with you?

pure fluff. reader can be seen as either civilian/spider. is it really one of my fics if i don't write about how much miguel hates himself even by just a little bit

dividers by @cafekitsune

What Miguel learned from being a leader, setting an example, being his mother's son, and serving as a hero was patience. 

It was a value that he had slipped up on from time to time, more often with himself. If he ever found himself at wit's end with someone else, he would mope until it passed or wait to get some precious alone time and healthily expresses his emotions by making a mess of his quarters and breaking down until he'd get tired and just sleep it off, restarting this precious cycle. 

Eventually though, he had begun to no longer exhaust himself by getting angry. Unless the entire multiverse was at stake (ahem), then he'd have to spring into action. But his main priority now is to fix the problem, get it over with, rinse, and repeat. 

When you entered his life, he realized that there was more to his ridiculous routines, more than his self-destructive attitudes, and that true patience came with love and caring as well. Obviously, he's light years away from being content with himself, but you redirect him, navigating through when that dastardly cycle repeats, so that you can wash it away and make him anew. 

Miguel isn't the only one that has his layers peeled back though, there's so much that he notices about you. That composed and mature persona that you set up for yourself, that has built good albeit only professional connections with the other spiders eases its way into a bubbly and joyful demeanor whenever you're around him. 

It almost didn't make sense, Miguel just seemed like the kind of guy to not want to do that with, to not want to relax around. He couldn't even relax on his own, the thought that anyone could feel comfortable in their own skin around him was shoved into the back of his mind. That connection that he so painfully needs is put aside for prioritizing the safety of everyone everywhere else. 

Your true nature is infectious, to his dismay. It's too difficult to avoid the care that you're so insistant on giving him, it started with working overtime, to enjoying working overtime, to going over to Miguel's place for work purposes, to going over to Miguel's place for non-work purposes to kissing him for the first time, and now you're dating. 

The catch with Miguel having let loose around him was that all that conserved energy circulated around his apartment, whenever he got home from another long day at the Society, he'd climb into you doing five different things all at once. Reading, watching a show, watching a baking show, baking a cake, and texting. 

It was hectic, nothing that he couldn't handle, but how you're not on the verge of collapsing probably deep into the trenches of the night concerned him. For slightly more selfish reasons, Miguel doesn't like not having you in bed with him. This wasn't as extreme as the missions he took up at work, but it was a mission nonetheless.

You're... Busy, Miguel doesn't know what with. He sees yarn, he sees cookie dough, he sees a laptop, tablet, phone, and headphones, and so many other trinkets that are buried under the pile that you've built on the kitchen counter. Your focus shifts between each individual station, and Miguel shifts closer and closer to you quietly. 

You're occupied on the laptop, occasionally looking at the stove while you're doing so. Then returning to your yarn and now knitting needles? Before mixing the cookie dough even more and even liking the mixture off of the spoon, humming to yourself contently. 

You don't even notice that Miguel is right behind you, until he secures you against his front and lifts you up with a squeal. 

"Miguel!" You whine, squirming against his solid arms. Your feet swing in the air and you try to push his hands away from your midsection, but there's no use in trying to free yourself when it's with him anyway. 

"Go to sleep. No más tonterías, cariño." His voice is fogged by sleep, as his grasp on you tightens. You turn slightly with what little space that you have and you can see his slumber muddled stature. Tousled hair, relaxed expression, eyes half-lidded, and he raises a brow at your staring. "What?"

"Nothing," you sigh, "I'll go to sleep, you just have to let me go."

Miguel shakes his head, rocking your swinging body from side to sidet to go along with it as well. "No, I don't trust you." There's a humorous fry to it, you accentuate the pout on your lips, and he laughs. 

It takes a little while for you to convince him to put you down, you can't say this is the most uncomfortable position for you. Whenever you're around Miguel, you always wind up in his arms one way or another, but this time that principle is just being used against you. The conversation shifts, less about your captivity, more about Miguel's day, your day, anything new outside, anything new in Spider Society. The position you're in, the silky nature in his voice, it gets you groggy and Miguel can sense it. 

He wins. 

He handles you to the bed properly now, laying your once tireless form onto the comforter as he tucks you in. You don't even try objecting anymore, the stove is still on, the video on your laptop was probably still playing, and that knitting project will have to remain unfinished until tomorrow, but it was fine. You know that everything is fine when Miguel gets into bed with you, pressing his lips to the top of your head in one long kiss. 

He wins this little dispute of yours, but you know that you've won at life knowing that your nights end like this, engulfed in his embrace, the sound of his breathing bringing you to a deep sleep as well. 

[sugucidal]

# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER i. [3k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.

୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!

୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3

‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.

Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.

Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.

You were finally gonna confess.

"I want you."

The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.

A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.

"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."

You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!

What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.

He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.

You hate when people play hard to get.

"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?

"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.

"Whatever gets you off my case."

That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.

You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.

You regret talking to him that night every single day.

Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.

Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.

Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.

Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.

You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.

Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.

"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.

Guess some things never change.

You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.

Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.

'Speak of the devil', you sighed.

Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"

"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."

You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.

You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.

The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.

"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.

"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."

Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.

"Yeah..quite some impression alright."

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.

"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?

The answer was yes. Yes It was.

Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.

A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.

'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.

"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"

Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.

Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.

You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.

But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.

Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.

And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.

Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.

Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.

"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.

So you opt for the safest response.

With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."

Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?

Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.

"You barely changed."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.

Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.

'What's up with me??''

Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.

Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.

Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.

Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.

The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.

'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.

Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."

Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.

But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.

The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.

Toji couldn't stop looking at you.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–

"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?

"To my room, why?"

"Didn't you hear at dinner?"

'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'

"No, hear what exactly?"

"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."

A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.

"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.

She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"

Oh. Nevermind then.

"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.

Low blow, mom.

"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."

"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."

"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."

Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.

"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."

Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.

© SUGUCIDAL 2023 — All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.

[satoriberry]

Higuruma Hiromi is a cat.

No. That's not the correct verb.

Higuruma Hiromi behaves like a cat. Occasionally. Well, it only happened once.

Higuruma Hiromi, a man who lives up to the reputation he doesn't even know he created for himself a while back, never ceased to amaze you. He amazed you a first time when he correctly guessed your favourite skittle without even knowing your name ("You have the face of someone who would enjoy grape skittles.").

He amazed you a second time when he technically won a case and managed to score his client a one-month house arrest instead of a decade in jail after proving her innonence with nothing but tax return receipts as his golden piece of evidence. He amazed you a third time when you watched him ride a mechanical bull and manage to stay still as a statue the whole ride - not even whobbling when he got off.

A few dozen (read: hundred) more shocks and synonyms of the word "wow" later, you found yourself cohabiting a cozy apartment with him, one that conveniently allowed him to dodge public transport and bask in the crisp morning air on his way to his firm, then lackadaisically gaze at the moon on the way back. Nevertheless, Hiromi didn't find himself any more chipper or excited about going to slave in an office than he was before.

It had been a while since Higuruma has done something major that made you ogle him with a mixture of fear and wonder, ergo, amazed you. It had been a while since he's wowed you, but that didn't make you love him any less. It may actually be quite the opposite: ever since you made the mutual decision of living together, you believe you've become even more charmed by the man. His painfully bland yet charged lifestyle was practically the whole reason behind you sighing dramatically with heart eyes whenever someone mentioned the first two syllables of his name.

However, Hiromi managed to update the surprise score you had in your brain just for him, and, for the first time in a while, made you wonder what exactly was he made of.

9:56 AM.

You stood in the kitchen, palms on the marble counter's edge and eyes drooping every few seconds as you tried to resist the urge to sleep, and the only noises that kept you somewhat awake came from the chirping of birds outside your balcony doors, the typical Saturday traffic and the faint sizzle produced by the waffle maker you had plugged in.

You chose to skip some sleep, that was now starting to sound much more appealing than it did previously, and cook up an elaborate breakfast to avoid the avocado toast and coffee combo you and him have been having out of convenience for the past 10 days or so. You were waiting for the waffles to be done so you could move on to the other food items.

You reached for the egg tray and held one in either hand, contemplating the cook that you were going to go for, then horror struck as you heard your shared bedroom door creak, followed by the sound of irregular footsteps against the wooden tiles. He was already up. Feeling a bit betrayed and looking visibly deflated, you replaced the eggs on the tray and went back to staring at the red light that indicated that the waffles were still cooking.

The footsteps became louder as Hiromi approached your figure, rubbing his eyes with the ends of his palms, completely mute aside from the "ouch" he let out after bumping the island.

"Morning sleepyhead," you greeted him with similar fatigue in your grin, enjoying the sight of him manouevring rather terribly. You didn't move, awaiting the back-to-chest embrace he made a habit of offering you every time the occasion presented itself. However, you didn't get one. You didn't feel two warms arms wrap around your midriff, nor did you feel a jaw being placed on one of your shoulders.

You simply felt a nudge on your neck. More correctly, you felt a series of nudges, pokes and nuzzling motions on the side of your neck, accompanied by his bedhair scratching your ear multiple times. You additionally felt him rub his boney cheek against your shoulder's exposed skin, uncovered by the baggy shirt you had on.

He was rubbing his face against you. Like a cat.

You were certain of that due to the familiar bump of his hooked nose jabbing you gently, and rubbing along the expanse of your neck in a vertical motion. All this with his eyes glued shut despite wiping the life out of them a few moments ago.

You breathlessly giggled at the ridiculousness of....whatever this was. "Hiromi, don't take this the wrong way but, what on Earth are you doing?"

He made a bizarre grunt, but no words came out of his mouth. He contently kept tilting and pushing his face into your shoulder, his body stiff and arms dead on either side. A few times, you felt him push the top of his head in the junction between your shoulder and neck, as if he was spreading his atoms all over you. The feeling of his somewhat spikey morning hair made you emit a perplexed chuckle.

After what felt like a century, he switched gears and began peppering light kisses that started at the cap of your shoulder and made a trail to behind your ear, where he placed a final peck before patting your head and making to the bathroom, croakily mumbling, "Morning angel."

Just as you were doing before, you stood in the kitchen silently, body still and palms on the countertop's edge. Yet contrary to earlier, you were gobsmacked, absolutely lost as to what the fuck your will-be husband just did. Your eyes didn't leave the spice rack that was in direct line with your vision, and your jaw was still floored by the feline assault you just went through. It wasn't until the waffle maker's light switched to green with a clicking sound that you snapped out of your shock-induced stupeur, and began moving again.

Scratching your head in a cartoony manner, you walked to the bathroom whose door was completely ajar and showed that Hiromi was almost over with his morning routine, splashing water on his face to rinse off the ridiculously priced cleanser you persauded forced him to get.

Grabbing a towel from the rack, he patted his face dry a couple times before looking up at you with a mocking grin plastered on his features. Throwing the towel away haphazardly, he placed a callous palm on your shoulder and planted a brief kiss on your forehead, then proceeded to let you know just how good whatever it is that you're cooking up smelled, before heading off, leaving you a second time with no answer to your question.

Higuruma Hiromi was a man with a myriad of tricks up his sleeves, but waltzing up to you and acting like a needy cat wasn't something you could have predicated.

[plutoispurplw]

Guilty As Sin?

Summary: You are new at the bau and you finally meet Spencer, you fall for him but he started to avoid you.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: Smut, little angst, legal age gap of ten years (35 & 27), happy ending.

A/N: Hi everyone, guess who is back! This is inspired by Guilty as Sin by my favorite blonde. Stream The Tortured Poets Department.

Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ

When you began to work at the BAU, Penelope had told you that one of the members of the team was in prison, she said that he was innocent. 

Months later, when he was out of jail you finally met him, you were mesmerized by him, he looked like something out of your wildest dreams. 

You notice the dark circles under his eyes and how he looked tired but still, you were under a spell by him. 

"Hello, nice to meet you, Dr.Reid, my name is Y/N" You acted like looking at his eyes was nothing while you felt how your heart was beating like crazy. 

If he noticed it he didn't make an effort to say something about it. "Nice to meet you too and you don't have to call me doctor" He gave you an awkward smile, and that was instantly engraved in your brain. 

Even if you were attracted to him, that didn't mean that the age gap between you two was comfortable, it was weird to try to have a conversation with him, there wasn't any type of conversation themes to have. 

But as time went by, the age gap seemed to be less uncomfortable, you began to open up a little more to him and vice versa, the conversations you both started to have were nice, and you liked to listen to his ramblings. 

After some more time, you two started to go to a café in your free time to talk, when you talked about something that you liked he gave you his attention, and he didn't make you feel weird. 

Then it started the glances, the quick brushes against each other. The tension was growing like crazy, but only happened when you two were alone. 

Something magnetic was pulling you towards him, maybe was destiny or chemistry but it didn't matter, because you couldn't escape from that feeling. 

When you touched yourself, you would fantasize about him, but how could you be guilty if he hadn't touched you yet? 

Only in your mind, his name was written on your inner upper thigh. 

And finally, the tension just broke one night. 

After solving a case and being back home, the team went to a bar to relax after those stressful days. You were tired and you asked Spencer to take you home, and he accepted. 

When you were at the entrance of the apartment and were about to say goodbye, you felt how his gaze was fixed on your lips, you couldn't stop looking at him like a lovesick teenager at that moment. 

Then it snapped, he stole you a kiss, and you reciprocated it, you felt the passion and desperation that he put on the kiss, your whole body burning because of the need for his touch. 

The kiss didn't last too long because then he pulled away, and regret was written on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." Before you could say something he was gone, you just lay on the bed until you fell asleep with thoughts running through your mind. 

After that, he started to avoid you if it wasn't important like you were some kind of plague that could kill him. 

You started to think if you did something wrong but nothing came to your mind. 

You felt hurt and after a time you didn't try to make amends for something that you were sure you didn't break anymore, it was better if you were alone or that was what you tried to tell yourself. 

After some time, in a case. The team was staying in a hotel like always, you were in your room when you noticed that the air-conditioning wasn't working, you went to the lobby to ask for another room but they told you that there weren't any more rooms available 

It was summer and you knew that wouldn’t sleep with the heat. 

You decided to ask Spencer to share because his room was the closest one to you, that was what you tried to think, but deep inside you knew that the true reason was to just be close to him. 

You knocked on the door, and moments later she opened it, he was sleeping in sweatpants and a shirt. His went wide when he saw that it was you.

"Hi, Y/N" His voice sounded deep like have been sleeping before you knocked. The door. He looks at you in the eyes with shame and guilt. "What do you need?" 

"Sorry for waking you up but the air-conditioning doesn't work and there aren't more rooms available so I was wondering if you let me sleep here? Tomorrow I'm gonna ask for another room." 

"Okay, don't worry, I leave you the bed and I sleep on the floor so you can be comfortable." He sounded sincere and you felt how you were falling again for him. 

"We can share the bed, we just put a pillow between us, what do you think?" You look at him with puppy eyes so he can sleep on the bed and don't wake up in the morning with pain in the back.

He just gave you a nod and let you enter, you two started to accommodate the bed again so the two could be comfortable, and while doing that you started to speak again. "What happened that ni-" 

He interrupted you and didn't let you talk. "Let's just forget about that please, I'm tired and you're tired." His voice sounds annoyed by your words. 

You looked from the bed to his eyes. "Stop trying to avoid the theme like it's some kind of explosive, please let's just talk." Your voice sounded like you were begging and maybe you were but you just needed to know why he avoided you like the plague. 

At that moment something snapped inside of him. "I don't want to fucking talk about that Y/N" His voice was louder and now he sound angry at you. 

In other circumstances, you would stay quiet but you were tired from all of this, you didn't want to see him every morning in the office knowing that he didn't want to have any interaction with you like before that night. 

Now you were the one yelling, all the pent-up anger spilled on your words. "Well I need to know why you have been avoiding me like I'm some kind of fucking bad drug for you, I prefer to spend all night awake uncomfortable than being here." You immediately felt guilty of saying something like that to him knowing his past but you didn't say anything and started to walk towards the door. 

Then to your surprise, he stopped you in your tracks grabbed you by the wrist, pulled you towards him, and started to speak. "You know why I been avoiding you? Because if I let you get more closer I won't be able to stop." 

His eyes fixed on yours like they were some kind of gems. "I want to make you mine, I want to consume all of you, you're a drug for me that I know if I taste it's gonna be the death of me." 

He stepped back and stopped grabbing your wrist. "But it wouldn’t be fair, I have more experience than you, your frontal lobe got fully developed two years ago and mine almost a decade ago." 

Before he continued talking you were the one interrupting him this time, you got closer to him. "I want you to be the one to ruin me, I have been thinking of you since I met you, it feels like I'm under a spell that makes me need you, I need to wake every morning next to you." 

In seconds you were kissing each other like it was your last moment on earth, the kiss was filled with desperation and pent-up passion from months accumulated. 

His hands were everywhere making you moan against his neck while you kissed him. 

He pulled away from you and sat on the edge of the bed, his hands pulled towards him making you fall on his lap. 

Your lips against his jaw and neck, his hands started to descend towards your hips carefully and slowly to not startle you like you were some kind of animal. 

Then he started to talk again and you didn't have more patience left. "Are you sure you want this? We could stop if you-" You stopped him before he continued talking. 

"I wanna do it, Spencer, I'm sure" He stopped in his tracks and then his lips were against yours again in a passionate and intense kiss. 

He continued to descend his hands until they were on the waistband of your shorts, he looked you in the eyes, and you just gave a little nod to let him know that was okay to do it. 

He started to pull it down in a slow motion to make you more desperate,  now he could see your lacy underwear. You didn't know if it was worse for him than for you to wait. 

You stood up and took the shorts off completely, then you took your T-shirt off too. His eyes laser-focused on your chest when he realized that you weren't wearing a bra or anything. 

You blushed at his indiscreet gaze and tried to cover yourself but he pulled you towards him again, you fell on his lap again, and his hands were quick to move from your hips towards your breasts. 

He just started to caress them playing with your nipples. "You look so beautiful like this." His kisses started from your neck to your chest, his mouth was on one while the other was being massaged by his other hand. 

After minutes like this, he switched giving attention to your neglected breast. You were just a mess already, letting out little moans and sighs. 

You felt how his hands were on your hips again, then he lay you down on the bed carefully like you were made of crystal. He raised from the bed and then he got on his knees getting a gasp of surprise from your lips. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to." 

"But I want to, I want to see if you can come just from my hands and mouth or if you're gonna need more." His words made you feel a chill run down your spine. 

His hands spread your legs open letting him see how the underwear was wet from your arousal. "Look at this, you were really desperate for my touch, didn't you?" You just gave him a nod in response. 

He took your underwear in seconds so that you were sure that he tear it apart but it didn't matter anymore, you were just focused on his breath against your cunt. 

He started to kiss your inner thighs while his middle finger and index finger entered you and started to move inside you. Moans started to escape from your lips. 

Then his mouth was on your clit making you were seeing stars, saying his name like a mantra, you felt the knot on your stomach starting to get tighter until it exploded and you scream his name, you felt how every wave of pleasure washed over your entire body. 

He got up from his position and you see how he started to to take off his sweatpants and his boxers, you help him take his shirt off. 

All the clothes were scattered on the floor. 

You lay down on the bed again spreading your legs open, he got between your legs, and you could feel his member brushing against your folds teasingly. 

"Please, Spencer, I need to feel you inside." Now you were sure you were begging him to be inside you, you needed it and he need it too. 

In a moment he pushed slowly inside you, and you felt him deep inside you. In his perspective, you were a complete mess, cheeks of a scarlet tone and moans escaping from your rosy lips. 

"You look so pretty, you feel so good, angel." His voice was an octave lower than usual making you shiver. His eyes were full of affection for you. 

He pulled almost out and then his hips snapped against yours making you moan so loud that you were sure that the other persons were hating you two by all the noise. 

The bed started to move with the movement of your bodies, the wood headboard was hitting against the wall again and again, the room full of the noise of moans and curses, and the smell of love. 

He moved to be closer to you and started to whisper sweet nothings against your lips and neck, moans of his name escaping of your lips along pleads of never stop. 

Then everything went quiet when the two of you felt the knot snapped. He pulled out and kissed your forehead with love and you gave him a giggle. 

"I love you" He whispered against your hair while he covered your bodies with the sheets hiding the mess that both of you made. 

"I love you too." You whispered against his neck and gave him a little kiss, now you felt at peace.

[faux-ecrivain]

Yandere Darling

Yandere Darling x gn reader

(Eighteenth Official Post)

(This isn’t my best)

(Yan’s name is Amos)

Yan Darling that used to be kidnapped, that thought he would never escape.

Yan Darling who fought everyday to keep his Kidnapper from hiring him (regardless of how much they claimed they loved him).

Yan Darling that almost gives in after months and months of torture and mind breaking, who almost believes the Kidnapper when they say no one’s coming for him. (“Give up Amos, sweetheart, no one’s looking for you, no one wants you.”)

Yan Darling who cries tears of joy (and anguish) when you rescue him (completely by accident, you just wanted to rob the place).

Yan Darling who panics when you leave his side to talk to the police officer, he’s afraid that’ll he’ll get hurt again if you aren’t with him. 

He tugs on the back of your shirt, your turn your head to look at him and are met, briefly, with teary eyes, and pouty lips. “Please don’t go, I’m scared..” He mumbled, his eyes cast to the ground  and his hand clutching your shirt like a life line. You can’t help but feel the urge to protect him, to watch over him and it’s only because he reminds you of your little brother. “Alright, I’ll stay, but I’ll have to talk to the policemen eventually.”

Yan Darling who’s eyes light up when you tell him you’ll go with him, his heart pounds when you ride in the ambulance with him and then when you sit beside his bed he can’t help but cry again.

Yan Darling who cries even more when you try to sooth his cries, he apologizes over and over again. He feels so terrible crying in front of you like that, he shouldn’t do that, but he can’t help himself.

Yan Darling who starts giggling when you begin to panic over him, he giggles even more when your face contorts into confusion and you don’t know how to help him.

You were fussing over a crying Amos when he started to giggle, you didn’t know what was so funny and asking him didn’t help. He just kept giggling, then when your face shifted into confusion he began to full on laugh. (It was kind of creepy) He only stops when he starts coughing and his throat feels sore, it’s been a while since he laughed like that. Amos smiles when you hand him a glass of water, you’re so kind to him.

Yan Darling who pouts when you have to leave, no he doesn’t care if visiting hours are up, he just wants to spend time with you.

Yan Darling who makes you swear to come back tomorrow, or he’ll never talk to you again, and feels delighted when you agree.

Yan Darling who can’t wait for you to come back and when you do return, he greets you with open arms. 

Yan Darling who chats with for hours and hours, occasionally bursting into tears if you show him an inkling of kindness. Each moment spent with you is a moment he cherishes.

Yan Darling who looks forward to you visits and even dreams about visiting you.

Yan Darling who was upset when you didn’t come in on your usual days, then he got even more upset when his family visited instead of you. He doesn’t like his family, but they don’t seem to care.

Yan Darling who gives you the cold shoulder when you do eventually come visit, regardless of the reason you give him (or the apology).

“Amos, I’m really sorry, I just got caught up in work and by the time I got off visiting hours were over. (Actually you were in jail and just got bailed out)” You apologize again, trying to get his attention and you even go as far as to place your hand near his own hand. He takes notice of this and can feel his resolve crumbling, he really wants to hold your hand. “Hmph, liar, I bet you were just avoiding me!” 

He grumbles, his lips pulled into a cute pour and his eyes narrowed in a heated glares. “No, I wasn’t avoiding you. I could never avoid you, I care about you too much.” You smile softly and his resolve wavers, he gives into your kindness, and cautiously grabs hold of your hand. “Hm, fine, i guess I’ll forgive you, but don’t do it again!”

Yan Darling who is so excited when he’s finally released, now he can go over to your house and spend more time with you!

Yan Darling whose mood quickly drops when he’s released to his family and not you. He didn’t want to be with them, he wanted to be with you..

Yan Darling who gives his family the cold shoulder, no matter how much they try to care for him (he knows it’s all an act).

Yan Darling who begins to lash out when his family forbids him from visiting you. (“I’m not a child, mum! I can make my own decision and see my own people!”)

Yan Darling who runs away from his family and wonders around until he comes across you. Actually, you had saved him once more when he had been cornered by a group of thugs and almost beaten up. 

Yan Darling whose heart races when he sees you defending him, protecting him and his mind runs back to when you first rescued him. You care about him so much, you must love him.

Yan Darling who readily nods when you make a joke of being his bodyguards and following him 24/7. He gets so confused when you become concerned for him, did he say something wrong (yes, he said you should stalk him).

Yan Darling who begins to cry when you ask him why he’s out so late and so far from home, he reluctantly informs you of his troubles and is overjoyed when you invite him over.

Yan Darling who finds your house fascinating, it’s so lived in and it’s so.. you!

Yan Darling who eagerly listens to the tales you regale him with tales of your exploits and stories about your childhood. 

Yan Darling who gets upset when you compare him to your younger brother, he doesn’t want to be your brother! He wants to be your lover. 

He pouts and glares at you, he doesn’t want to be your brother. “I’m not your brother! I’m not related to you at all!” He gets so confused when you giggle at his response, he’s being very serious right now. Don’t laugh at him!

Yan Darling who pouts and tells you to take him seriously, he’s a person too! 

Yan Darling who becomes relieved once you reassure him that you do indeed view him as a person (and essentially a man).

Yan Darling who whines when you tell him it’s bed time, but relents once you promise to tuck him in and kiss him good night.

Yan Darling who gets all flustered when you do actually tuck him in and kiss him good night. Ah, you must really love him!

Yan Darling whose face is all red when you kiss him, he’s never felt this way before..

Yan Darling who struggles to fall asleep and can’t help but think about you, think about a future with you.

Yan Darling who gets angry when he thinks about the prospect of you leaving him or finding another to dote on. His little heart couldn’t handle having you leave him and it definitely couldn’t handle you loving another!

Yan Darling who catches himself before his mind wanders into dangerous territory, he shouldn’t feel this way, especially not after what he’s gone through. He doesn’t want to hurt you like he was hurt, he wants to love you.

Yan Darling who apologizes when he sees you in the morning, which of course confuses you. Why is he apologizing?

Tears stream down his face as he confesses his thoughts and begs for your forgiveness, meanwhile you’re still trying to process that weird dream you had last night and this situation doesn’t help. You put down you mug and try to reassure him, surely whatever he’s feeling is normal, and he shouldn’t feel so guilty over such thoughts. After all, he seems to have no intentions to make his dreams come true.

Yan Darling who feels so much better after you accept his apology, that’s so kind of you and after he’s caused you so much trouble. Oh, he just wants to hug!

You’re surprised when Amos entraps you in a hug, you didn’t expect this to happen. You awkwardly pat his back and then wait for him to quit hugging you. He’s seemingly oblivious to how uncomfortable his unexpected hug makes you, he seems to take your reluctance to respond as you being shy. He smiles and hugs you tighter.

Yan Darling who whines when you manage to escape his hold, he just wanted to share his love with you.

Yan Darling who almost throws a temper tantrum when you prevent him from hugging you again.

Yan Darling who’s only placated when you  offer him some warm food, although he’s sure to kick up a fuss if you don’t cuddle him later this afternoon.

Yan Darling who becomes overly clingy and affectionate throughout the passage of time, each moment around him is spent in his hold or with him hanging off your arm.

Yan Darling who’s scared you’ll leave him alone and does whatever it takes to keep you happy.

(you can probably tell, but I lost motivation halfway near the end, when I started this fanfic i was half asleep and had stayed up all night. So, it wasn’t the best and I apologize for that.)

(Also, you could expect another post later today, but don’t get your hopes up!)

[thoughtsandmusingsandideas]

I had a thought for a creator but they didn't believe they were the creator and could influence others into believing it too.

The two characters are Sara kujou and yae miko

@mastadon64 here you go!

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Godboss - Kujou Sara and Yae Miko

Kujou Sara

Cw: Sexual innuendos

-Honestly, waking up in Teyvat, you had a hard time convincing yourself you weren’t dreaming

-(It took you tumbling down a hill and slamming into a particularly sharp rock to realize it was not a dream. Also, ow)

-(You ignored the way your blood was golden. You were pretty sure you’d never seen the Genshin characters bleed anyways. It was probably just censoring. Totally.)

-Some way or another, you ended up in Inazuma

-Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting

-Most of the creatures were pretty chill, and as long as you avoided the people, you didn’t get in much trouble

-And then you kicked a Tenryou commission officer in the face and got arrested

-You know, jail wasn’t as bad as you expected either!

-Your cellmates weren’t too bad either- one of them asked you if you were god, which was weird, because you didn’t look anything like the Shogun, but you gave him a stick of dango and he shut up

-(You might not have been a god, but the fact that you managed to keep your inventory from the game was the closest thing to a divine blessing that you could imagine. Who needs a gnosis when you have your own pocket dimension?)

-It’s about half an hour before you’re taken from your cell for questioning

-You walk into a small interrogation room, shock igniting in your chest as you spot Kujou Sara

-Wasn’t she important?

-Was kicking that guy in the face really such a grave offense?

-“Are you the Creator God?” She asks, deathly serious

-Why did people keep asking you this???

-You’re pretty sure you don’t look too godly, garbed in stolen clothes that you’re ninety percent sure you put on wrong, a fading bite mark on your arm from when you tried to pet a rifthound, leaves in your hair. Honestly, you looked pretty disheveled, and…

-“Is that your way of saying you think I’m hot? Like… godly or whatever?”

-Considering the way the Tengu’s face turns a vibrant red, you’re either very right, or very wrong

-It’d be funnier if you were right though, so you press on

-“I mean, not that I’m not into it, but I’m feeling kinda iffy about the power dynamic here- prisoner and cop is a cute trope and all, but not all that smart in real life, I mean I get it if it’s a kink or whatever, I know handcuffs are attractive, but as of right now it’s immoral-”

-“Shut up. Please.” Sara mumbled, covering her red face with her hand. Her hair has more volume than usual, tiny sparks of static dancing between the strands

-“… I mean after I get out of prison I’d totally be down to go on a date, and if you feed me well enough I might even let you handcuff me.” You add.

-The silence in the room is heavy

-“Get out.”

-“Yes ma’am. Hm. No. Yes Mommy? Yes Master-“

-You’re cut off by an electrically charged arrow striking the wall beside your head.

-“Out.”

-“Okay!”

-You’re released from prison three days later, now with a whole gaggle of new friends from criminals

-(You ignored the fact that some of them made really important sounding speeches swearing their fealty to you. Also the small shrine they were building in your honor. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist)

-You were surprised that as soon as you left, you were met with a glaring Kujou Sara, who takes your hand in her own

-“Am I being arrested again?”

-“… I’m going to take you on a date. And then I’m going to handcuff you.”

-“Yes Mommy!”

-“I Will Shoot You Again.”

Yae Miko

-You had to admit, stumbling upon a small shrine that seemed to be dedicated to your doppelgänger was creepy

-But you had also just been Isekaied to video game land, so you were pretty adaptable at the moment.

-Or high on adrenaline.

-You pick up one of the Sunsiettas from the shrine, biting down and relaxing, until-

-“Your excellency?!” A voice squeaks, and looking up you see a very frazzled shrine maiden staring at you.

-“Uh. No?” You say, swallowing the Sunsietta.

-The shrine maiden starts sobbing. “Your excellency!”

-“Oh- no- I’m- uh- I’m like you? You know? I’m uh… a messiah? Priest? Prophet? Whatever gets you to stop crying?” You awkwardly pat her head.

-“You- you’re the Creators chosen one?” She blubbers.

-“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Stop crying.”

-“CHOSEN ONE!” And she’s crying again

-After a lot of crying, you’re led to the Grand Narukami shrine, where you’re introduced to the head shrine maiden as the chosen one

-“… Are you sure she’s not just the creator?”

-“You flatter me. I’m just gods favoritist and most specialist little princess.”

-The Kitsune likes this. Perhaps too much, but we’ll let her have her fun

-And thus, the war to get you to admit that you’re the Creator begins, hidden under the guise of her introducing you to chosen one duties

-She takes you on a pilgrimage all across Inazuma first, going to the most dangerous places possible just to put you in danger and save you at the last second, disappointed that you never use godly powers to save (read: reveal) yourself

-She meditates with you, and paints obscure markings on your face when you fall asleep, which you have to pass off as messages from the creator

-She takes you to meet the Shogun, but after leaving you alone for five minutes, returns to you teaching her poker and robbing her blind. You cited divine luck and she pretended she didn’t notice the cards stuffed inside your sleeve

-It ends pretty anticlimactically, actually

-She’s introducing you to the local foxes, when you trip over a rock and face plant into the floor

-And get a nose bleed

-Miko can’t help but doubling over in laughter at the sight of your pout as golden blood drips down your face

-“And how are you explaining this one, Oh revered Chosen One?”

-“Genetic condition.”

-The laughter doubles

[pinkie-pop]

"Do Paimons Dream of Floating Sheep?"

Mondstadt: Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Based on this

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Paimon! Reader, Yandere Genshin Impact, Aether, Albedo, Eula, Diluc, Kaeya, Lisa, Venti

Word count: 1.7k

Synopsis: Being dragged into the world of your favorite video game is hardly your idea of a relaxing Saturday, and being dragged into the world of your favorite game, taking over the role of mascot even less so. Unfortunately, it seems fate has no interest in what you consider to be a normal day, and it will do anything to replace your idea of normal entirely.

Includes: Blackmail, imprisonment, drugging, injury, kidnapping, nonconsensual kiss, suicide

Note: This is the final installment.

This is only your guess, but it seems the futures that the Archive shows you are only possibilities. It's your own choices that dictate which, if any, become true. In that way, they’re similar to the hangout quests in the original game. Unfortunately, the Archive doesn't tell you what choices you have to make in order to get your desired ending. You flip through more threads of fate. 

•~•~•~•~•~•

“It’s quite simple, [Name]. All you have to do is take my hand, and we can put this whole thing behind us.” You look down at Kaeya’s outstretched hand, a bead of sweat rolling down your back. You thought he was your friend.

That was before he had you jailed for false charges. You gaze up at him in resentment, spitting on the hand he offered you. 

“Now, now,” he says, wiping his hand with a handkerchief. “There’s no need to throw a temper tantrum. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but can you really blame me for getting a bit impatient? You’ve been playing hard to get for so long now I was really starting to get the impression that you weren’t interested.” It’s amazing just how close to the truth he can get while still being delusional. “Think about it,” he says, turning around and leaving you in your cell. Alone, again.

•~•~•~•~•~•

You take an uncomfortable sip of your tea, not missing the careful way that Lisa examines you as you do. She’s been watching you carefully for a while now. Maybe if you were smarter, you would have asked about it.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. You can already feel the drug take its effects.

The edges of your vision go fuzzy until Lisa is the only thing in focus. You feel your mind floating away as you fawn over her, with her reciprocating just as much. You give yourself to the feeling, loving how you no longer need to think, how you no longer need to focus on anything that wasn’t her. 

How could you ever have thought of resisting her? Of trying to run away from her and her loving embrace? 

You must have been out of your mind.

•~•~•~•~•~•

The chain clinks rhythmically as Aether tugs you along, his fingers interlaced with yours. Sometimes, you wonder what the point of the bindings are, if he’s just just going to hold your hand anyway, but you dare not voice these thoughts of yours, too afraid of his reaction.

Aether has been…eractic, recently. His mood swings are out of control, and it’s all you can do to avoid setting him off, walking on eggshells like your life depends on it—which it sort of does. He would never hurt you, he says, but the bruises on your arms tell a different story.

He would never hurt you, he says, except for all the times he has.

What a gentleman, right?

•~•~•~•~•~•

Eula doesn’t say anything as she slides a ring onto your finger. An old family heirloom, she had told you earlier. It had just been sitting around, collecting dust, when she found it and thought of you. It didn’t mean anything. It was just a pretty trinket from a friend. That’s all. 

She didn’t tell you that the ring had thorns.

They face backward, making the ring easy to slip on but excruciating to take off. A simple sign of her affection for you. Pretty on the outside but suffocating within. Eula was not nearly as subtle as she liked to think, but even so, you play along. 

She’s easier to deal with when she’s not being honest.

•~•~•~•~•~•

You wake up with a searing headache. You don’t quite know how you got in this situation, all you remember is taking a midnight stroll, feeling something heavy hit your head, and then, nothing. You’re blindfolded, but you can still tell some things from your other senses. Like how you’re currently tied up on a bed.

You think you’ve been kidnapped. But by who? Who would do such a thing, and why to you? You don’t have money to ransom, you’ve got no grudges with anyone, you don’t have anything that a kidnapper would want. The idea that maybe they’re targeting you to get to Aether crosses your mind, but if that were the case, why would they place you on a bed? Why use silk for your bindings instead of harsh ropes or chains?

It doesn’t make sense.

“Ah, you’re awake.” You perk up immediately. You know that voice, it’s Diluc! Is he here to rescue you? But, wait…what was that he said? ‘You’re awake,’ it’s almost like…he already knew about your situation. 

It’s almost like…he was the one who put you in it. But that can’t be right.

Can it?

•~•~•~•~•~•

Your feet ache. A side effect of the surgery, Albedo tells you. You can’t believe him. You said you were leaving to Liyue once, and the next thing you know, he’s put you under anesthesia and severed your Achilles tendons. Maybe you should be more horrified about this, but right now all you can feel is annoyance. Perhaps you’ve already grown used to Albedo and his possessive tendencies.

Perhaps you’re simply banking on your ability to fly. Sure, it’s true that you’ve never flown since that day, but that doesn’t mean you’ve suddenly forgotten how to. It’ll be easy. All you have to do is get over your paralyzing fear of heights, bypass the cabin locks Albedo installed, find an opportunity to get away, survive the sheer cold of Dragonspine, and then you’re home free.

…

Or, maybe you’d be better off adjusting to a life of captivity.

•~•~•~•~•~•

“Close your eyes,” Venti says in his usual boyish, cheerful tone. As if the two of you were simply playing. As if he doesn’t have you cornered in an alley, his hands locking yours in place.

You close your eyes. Instantly, you feel his lips on yours, again. His lips move against yours in a careful rhythm, almost like the songs he used to play for you. Peaceful times like that feel so far away. Now, your relationship is coded only in violence, only in him taking, taking what doesn’t belong to him. His grip on your arm tightens as he squeezes, the message clear. You kiss back, disgusted by how easily you give in to his whims. 

It takes all the will and self-restraint you have not to try and push him off—you already know such an attempt would fail, anyway. After all, you’re only human. And a human has no chance of winning a fight against a god.

So much for the city of freedom.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Okay, the idea of being in the world of your favorite video game was fun at first, but this is too much. You can't do this. You need a way out.

But…how do you find an exit when you've never even seen the entrance?

You flip through more pages of the Archive. You scroll through information on weapons, characters, and items. You read about local specialties, character ascension materials, and enemy mobs. None of it helps. You find nothing.

You keep searching. 

You find nothing. 

You look again.

Nothing. Again. Again. Again.

The world seems to fade in and out of existence as you search until it finally melts away completely. Your vision goes fuzzy, with black splotches blocking the light, but only for a moment. When you open your eyes, you realize that you are no longer in the dungeon. You are in an infinite white that stretches out for as far as you can see. The only thing besides you is the Archive.

You look through it for a final time.

You find something. Finally. Finally, you find something. A plain white envelope falls out from between the pages. You aren’t sure how you missed it before.

Carefully, you tear open the envelope with the conveniently provided letter opener and read its contents. You don't like what you find. 

Experiment Number 0000, 

I hope that this letter finds you well, though I know that it will not have. If you were well, you would never have seen this letter in the first place. If you have found this letter, it means that things have already gone sideways or are about to. I am sure you are reading this hoping for answers. To find this letter is to have already doomed yourself. The moment you opened the book and started reading you tore open the fabrics of reality. Timelines are like strings, and your actions have molded them into a mangled knot. I do not quite know how you have found yourself in such a bizarre situation, only that you have.

I suppose I owe you an explanation, don’t I?

This book—the Archive, as you call it—is not a book at all. It is more like a ledger. What you have found, 0000, is not the future but instead a collection of the past. 

This is not your first life. 

My colleagues and I have been experimenting with eternal life and reincarnation. We tested on animals first, but nothing can ever truly replace a real, living human. I tried to stop them, believe me, I did. But I am just as powerless in the situation as you are. I could do nothing to stop their cruelty. The only thing I could do—the only thing I can do, is to write this letter, and to hope that it reaches you. Enclosed is a tool that will aid in your escape.

I am sorry, 0000. This will be your last life.

Sincerely, 

0001.

As you read through the letter, flashes of memories return to you. You remember events that have never happened in this life. You remember dying, living, killing. You remeber being kidnapped, bludgeoned, abused. You remeber being loved, cared for, and killed. You remeber everything. All these lives that you’ve lived…they must all total to well over a hundred years. You’ve had enough. You’ve lived for far too long and seen far too many things. 

You need a way out.

You look down at the letter opener in your hands. No, wait, it’s not a letter opener.

It’s a dagger.

You have no other choice. Anything to escape this hell.

And just like that, you plunge the dagger into your heart.

Taglist: @shadowkitty-me @probablynoposts @kissyhalik @persephone-kore-law @neverending-animelove @crxscnt @teravolting @resident-cryptid @esthelily @shellofthewall @dilucragnidvr @altheq0 @wegottastayfocus @jellothefool @c0l1fl0r @francisnyx @imma-just-chill @fantasyhopperhea @iamapotatoe @utahimechan @undecidingfate @saltystudentdefender @vee-love @ayameei @shadowkitty-me @fantasyhopperhea @c4xcocoa @yarabutterfly @mitsukashi @dreamlessnight @ayameei @yuan1819 @dreamsenternally @sfinksv @nyx-u @swagbucksjester @candycxndy @leshugasworld-blog

[evilminji]

A Moral Dilemma! Question!

Let's say there is a trucker. An average man. Kind enough, did okay in school, loves his wife and misses her like you wouldn't believe every time he has to go. Misses his little girl even more. HATES he's missing the early years of her life. First day to school, getting her up and brushing her hair into pigtails, making pancakes like his Pa used to make. The works.

But the economy is shit. Him and his wife have to work. Make ends meet. They're DESPERATE to get out of Gotham. Move somewhere boring. Safe.

But... well, places like that cost money. Kids cost money. And he did OKAY in school. Not a lot of jobs out there for "Okay" guys from Gotham.

His cousin finds him a route though. A solid job. Really pulled through when push came to shove and things were looking bad. Like he might have to take up that offer to Goon. Now he's a trucker.

And his route? Well the half way point is Amity Park. He stops to stay the night every time. Never really STAYS, has heard they got themselves a Cape and such, but? It is what it is. He's from Gotham. He minds his business. Parks on the outskirts of town to avoid getting hit.

Doesn't realize, he's getting SOAKED in Ectoplasm every time he's in town.

And this trucker? Not the healthiest man. He wishes he could be. But life on the road is not exactly conducive to fresh fruit and leafy greens. He eats more grease and sugar then his doctor would EVER recommend. In fact, has specifically warned him not too.

But some days you just need a warm meal. You miss your kid, your wife, your bed. And you know it'll be days before you can see any of them. But at least there is pancakes.

You can pretend you're eating with your family. Or at least, let the coffee be warm enough for the two of you. God, but the poor man is tired.

And as he gets close to Gotham?

Breaking News!

The Joker. AGAIN. The trucker cringes, horror filling him. What poor soul has that mad man hurt NOW? When will it end? Him and his wife are so close to getting the hell out. Thinking Kansas. His wife has been joking about pie baking competit-

No.

Oh God No.

There, on the screen, tears streaming down her beautiful face? Is the love of his life. His best friend. His EVERYTHING. And in her arms, trying so, so hard to be quiet. To muffle her terror born sobs... is his little girl. One pigtail torn from its srunchie, blood on her tiny face.

The trucker knows how this story ends.

Batman will try. He ALWAYS tries. And sometimes... sometimes that's enough. But he knows the odds here. His family are in front. Stars of this sick show. The trucker can't breathe. His heart is pounding, too hard for a man of his health.

He's not young. Should be on blood pressure meds he simply cant afford. Is panicked by a terror few should ever suffer. And? What runs in his family, strikes true. It feels so far away, the pain in his chest. He... No, he can't.

He can't.

His family.

He can't die. Leave them. They're in danger! They can't die like this. So close to freedom. Happiness. They... the..y.. ca..n..t...

.

.

THEY WON'T. HE REFUSES.

~~~

So! Here in comes the QUESTION! As you sit, watching this terrified child call for her father, ripped from her begging mothers arms, you see a green opaque man full body tackle the Joker.

You watch his eyes visible glow and change color, fight a visible STRUGGLE, like jeckle and Hyde, for control of his body. Between the monster known as Joker and what seems to be? The little girl's newly Meta father.

The Father wins.

You watch the Bat arrive with the police. Thank the man and say he can release Joker into custody. See the EXACT moment the Meta realizes something. Turns to look at his daughter, then his wife. Looks back at the commissioner.

Says "No".

Is he right to do this? To Possess the Joker, as a life sentence, to insure the safety of others? He is perfectly will to sit that life in a jail cell. Knows he will never be allowed to roam free again. But! The Joker is contained.

Is this Right? Or merely emotionally satisfying?

Discuss :3

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe

[theshadowrealmitself]

I’m on some weird side of TikTok that hates Gwen for some reason and I’m terrified of looking on tumblr and seeing if that’s just the majority opinion, but anyways my thoughts on it:

So most of the videos I’ve seen on hating Gwen are about her “not being there for Miles” and because “she didn’t tell him”, and I don’t think those people watched the movie because

1.) Gwen joined an organization. An organization with rules. An organization with rules with tracking technology. There’s no way that they would’ve been okay with her just visiting Miles. Yeah she visited other Spideys, but those Spideys were a part of the organization.

If they had caught her visiting Miles for no reason, which they would have most likely noticed immediately, if not because of the tracking technology, then because of Jessica checking in on her often as her mentor that vouched for her, she could have been kicked out of the organization. Which for Gwen meant going back to her universe where she’d either be homeless and on run from the law, or just in jail.

There was no way she could have just visited beforehand, and they most likely had her on strict rules on not contacting him too (because this is an organization that tries to prevent the multiverse from breaking down, there’s no way they didn’t have strict rules), but the second Gwen was able to go to his universe, the very first thing she does, is stop by his house.

In fact, her mission is a second priority to her, she just leaves a tracker where the Spot is going to be, and then focuses on spending time with Miles.

2.) She tells him, then what? Either he accepts it, and just,, waits for his dad to die, knowing it’s not an event that he’s allowed to change (to their knowledge), or he fights against it, which would be the natural instinct of a 15 year old hearing that a loved one they’re close to is about to be killed, which would then put his entire universe at risk.

You heard them, they can fix Pavitr’s timeline “if they’re lucky,” most likely if Miles saved his dad and his universe started collapsing, they might not be able to save it, then he doesn’t just lose his dad, he loses everyone (if they let him join the society, would he be able to if his universe goes or does he go with it?)

Yeah some of the Spideys have some suspicions on whether or not interfering with the canon actually does cause a universe to collapse, but the only for sure facts they have is that Miguel fucked with a universe’s canon and that universe fell apart, it’s too risky to test it out on a hunch, and y’all wanted her to still risk it? knowing that there’s a 50/50 chance Miles still tries to save his dad and accidentally takes down his whole universe???

Now we as the audience have different information, and we’re pretty sure Miguel is wrong about the canon events, but you gotta think about what the characters know in universe, and what Gwen knows is that a Spidey wouldn’t want to just sit back and let a loved one die, and that screwing with canon might cost someone waaaay more than just one loved one

So Gwen not telling Miles anything and not visiting him wasn’t actually her flaws in the movie, yeah we felt betrayed that she did that, because it’s from Miles’ pov and Miles felt betrayed, but just because we wished she had done something different, doesn’t mean that her actions were wrong

Tragically, knowing what she knew, her mistake in the movie wasn’t “not being there more for Miles,” it was actually being there for him and visiting him, instead of avoiding him and focusing on her mission to capture the Spot, because if she had done that, then she could’ve stopped him before he started screwing with the multiverse

[7s3ven]

ALL I WANTED WAS YOU. luke (pjo)

( master list ) - soulmate au

IN WHICH… Two opposites fall in love and where one sees an anchor, the other sees jail bars. And eventually, the pair must ask themselves, is this really worth destroying ourselves over?

“All I wanted was you.”

Warnings : Implied sex, spoilers, angst, a bit of gore

A/N : this fic is my Roman Empire

—

Ever since Luke had discovered the concept of soulmates, he had hated it. Why not let people decide who they wanted to love? Most people didn’t follow the laws of fated partners anymore, but those who did always ended up hurt.

Luke still had yet to meet his. He often stared into the mirror, his gaze trailing over his soulmate mark below his ear that looked more like a tattoo in his opinion. He was never interested in it before, even going as far as to try and harshly scrub it off. But ever since he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, he had been staring at it nonstop.

It stung and burned sometimes, probably a good sign to most but a bad one to Luke. It meant that your soulmate was close.

Stumbling into them was inevitable but Luke did all he could to avoid them, whoever they were. And then finally, the day Luke dreaded arrived. It was a new Aphrodite girl who shared Luke’s tattoo. His heart sank as soon as he spotted it adorning her neck.

Was it the commitment that scared him? Probably. Luke had never witnessed a healthy relationship, something that was impossible when you were a demigod surrounded by unfaithful deities.

And yet, Luke continued to hide from both her and from the soulmate connection. The more he ducked under heavy vegetation for cover, the more he noticed about her. How she loved to dive into the lake to collect perfect pearls. And how she always wore the same necklace her younger sibling had given to her the day of her arrival.

Luke found himself admiring her and while his brain tried to say no, his heart gravitated towards her. In a short span of time, Y/N had successfully captured him within her charming spell. It’s not like she was trying to anyway.

Weeks later, Luke finally had the courage to approach her. He started off with small talk and if Y/N felt the same stinging sensation in her mark as Luke, she didn’t comment on it. It felt like months until they finally acknowledged they were soulmates and while Y/N was overjoyed, Luke had to take a step back.

He resorted to standing in front of the lake, skipping smooth stones along the surface of the water.

“Luke?” A voice called out. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. He could instantly tell when his heart skipped a beat.

“Y/N. Hey.” He quietly greeted her, skipping another pebble into the water.

“Are you okay?” She questioned, stepping closer to Luke who wanted nothing more than to be away from her. She was a sweet girl but Luke felt suffocated in her affectionate presence.

“I’m okay.” He skilfully lied through his teeth, causing Y/N to smile.

“I was just making sure. You were in a rush to get away from sword training, which is usually your favourite.”

Luke could smell her soft floral perfume now. It engulfed him, making it hard to breathe. Or was it his imagination? Nevertheless, Y/N noticed his furrowed brows.

“Are you sure everything’s alright, Luke?” She gently questioned, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his torso. Luke went stiff for a second before he forced himself to relax. Y/N’s perfectly manicured nails dipped under his shirt and trailed across his back. It should have felt calming but instead it felt like sharp claws dragging across his skin, slitting his flesh open and letting blood ooze out.

Luke didn’t know he was holding his breath until Y/N pulled away. If she acknowledged his strange behaviour, she still said nothing. That was what she always did. No matter how Luke acted, she remained silent, not wanting to ruin the fragile relationship they had. If it was even considered that.

It was clear in that moment that Luke struggled with abandonment while Y/N suffered from getting attached too easily. Luke swallowed his protest as Y/N drew out the already long hug, not wanting to upset her.

When Y/N finally pulled away, Luke held her hands in his. They were soft with lotion and yet Luke could feel rust beginning to set into the cold handcuffs that bound him to her.

“People say I feel like sandpaper.” Y/N uttered as Luke enjoyed the feeling of her warm hands against his, even if it was for a minute before his dread kicked in as it always did. “So I make my hands gentle with lotion.”

Luke silently nodded before he let go of Y/N’s fingers.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” He put on a fake smile just for her and Y/N slipped away, giggling under her breath. It gave Luke a moment to catch his breath. And then the thoughts came. The dark, impulsive ideas that swirled around in his mind until he could only focus on them.

She’ll be happy if I leave.

She’ll find someone else.

She won’t agree to come with me… will she?

Even if Y/N was willing to follow him into hell, Luke wouldn’t let her. He didn’t want her to throw away her life as well simply to please him.

Luke had always been told he had to learn not to run away so he stayed put, knowing it would only increase the risk of Y/N becoming more attached to him. Thus making his acts of betrayal harder to swallow.

Evening came and the sun dipped below the bright green hills. Luke arrived late to dinner, already finding a plate of steaming food sitting next to Chris. There was the small outline of a heart next to his food and Luke already knew what that meant. Y/N had taken the liberty of her time to care for a boy who couldn’t care for her back.

Nevertheless, Luke sat next to his friend and ate in silence. Occasionally, his gaze would flicker to Y/N, who was already staring at him like a hawk.

Luke should have blushed. Anyone else would have if a gorgeous girl was looking at them like that. But he saw another thing behind those loving eyes, something monstrous and obsessive. Something no other camper noticed except for him.

Y/N’s pretty tinted lips curved into a happy smile and while outsiders to their complicated relationship saw a joyful girl, Luke saw the one person keeping him chained to camp. He would have left Annabeth without hesitation if he had to but something about Y/N kept him grounded and held him back.

It would only be a few more days until Luke’s master plan created chaos between the gods and their children, giving Luke the perfect opportunity to slip away. At least, it should have been the perfect chance if it weren’t for Y/N. No matter what Luke did, his mind couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving her behind.

He suspected it was the soulmate connect.

Luke had barely finished his dinner before he suddenly stood up and walked over to Y/N, who was chatting with her siblings. He tapped her shoulder, immediately gaining her full attention. She stared up at him with doe eyes and slightly pouted lips, causing Luke’s heart to jolt.

“Follow me.” Luke quietly uttered, not wanting to freak Y/N out with the infamous words we need to talk.

Y/N trailed after him like a lost puppy as he led her to his empty cabin. He shut the door behind him, locking it for good measures. He wanted to give Y/N something warm to remember him by instead of only recalling his cold and distant nature.

So he kissed her. And she, to nobody’s surprise, swiftly kissed back. Y/N took careful steps towards Luke’s bed, her lips still locked with his. The back of her legs hit his mattress and she fell onto it, bouncing slightly as the springs loudly squeaked.

“Are you sure?” She murmured. She wasn’t stupid. Y/N could see Luke adjusting his pants and unzipping them when he thought she wasn’t looking. Luke nodded his bed as he cupped her face in his large hands, trying to memorise her beautiful features before he left.

Luke pressed his lips to Y/N’s once more. Unlike her usually warm body, her lips were cold and unwelcoming like the jail bars that enclosed Luke. But he pushed on, relentless as he tried to chase every teenage thing he had missed in one night.

His first kiss.

His first time.

His first love whom he was starting to grow feelings for, and that scared him.

Every sound and whisper Y/N made drove Luke mad. This time, as her hands touched his back, he could feel her nails dig into his skin, scratching neat lines down.

Y/N fell asleep before him. The other kids had yet to return from dinner, as there was a campfire happening now, so Luke quickly washed himself off in the shower reserved for camp counsellors. He dampened a cloth, running it over Y/N’s body as she peacefully tossed and turned, mistaking a pillow for Luke and snuggling into it.

Luke watched with a sort of fondness before he snapped himself back to reality. He grabbed a glass of water that he had already prepared and, with a quick gesture, dropped a few sleeping pills into the cooled liquid.

He sat Y/N up and carefully tipped the cup against her mouth, watching as she swallowed every last drop while she was still unconscious. Her body drooped in his arms, the pills taking effect immediately.

Luke held her for a few seconds, enjoying the peaceful silence that now fell upon the cabin.

“Sorry, Y/N.” He muttered as he brought her back to the Aphrodite cabin and tucked her into bed, hoping she would still be asleep by the time he left.

As Luke predicted, the camp fell into chaos. The cabins took sides as Annabeth, Percy, and Grover had yet to return. It was like a battlefield, every person for themselves. Luke watched the discord unfold, knowing he was at the sole heart of it.

Y/N was still asleep by the time Percy arrived back at camp, which concerned most of her siblings. She had been moved to the infirmary and the Apollo kids brushed her case off as a small overdose that she’d recover from eventually.

“You knew Clarisse didn't steal the bolt… You did.” Percy’s eyes widened. This was the moment Luke had been working towards. For Percy to finally realize who as a friend and who was an enemy. His reaction to all this would determine what Percy was to Luke. “You worked with Ares to plant it on me so when the shoes you gave me pulled me down into Tartarus, the bolt would be delivered right to Kronos.

“I didn’t think you’d give ‘em to Grover to wear.” Luke sighed, “I am your friend. Percy, none of this was meant to betray you. The Gods are my enemies.”

“You…” Percy couldn’t choke out another word as he stumbled back, unable to belief his first friend at camp had been the mastermind behind all this.

“I’m here to recruit.” Luke grinned in a way that unsettled Percy.

“I don't wanna fight.” Luke muttered, “This is what I wanted to show you. This... is our way out. Way out of what? Camp. And their control.” Behind Luke, a portal appeared. “Backbiter can open secret doors. We can stay on the run as long as it takes.”

“Stop saying we.” Percy snapped. He wanted no part in Luke’s little game with Kronos.

“It's the word Zeus fears the most. The gods want us to fight for them, worship them, fear them. And they couldn't care less what we want. They're bad parents, Percy. And they've gotten away with it for far too long.”

Luke had a point there but Percy still wildly shook his head. “No. This isn't you. This is Kronos. He got to you.”

“No, he opened my eyes to the truth. A golden age. That's what they called it when he ruled. We're gonna help Kronos bring the Golden Age back. Stealing the bolt and the helm was easy. For what comes next... we're gonna need all the help we can get.”

Their swords clashed against one another, sparks flying everywhere.

Percy panted as he spoke, “Our parents aren't perfect, but they're trying their best. I met your dad. But he...“

At the mentioning of Hermes, there was a new type of anger flashing in Luke’s eyes. He grunted as he swung his weapon at Percy. “You did get better.” He heaved.

The portal thrummed again, reminding Luke that he didn’t have much time left. “Last chance.” He warned Percy.

The blond boy didn’t respond. He blocked one of Luke’s blows, accidentally cutting the brunette’s cheek. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Percy was quick to apologise as if it were a simple sparring session.

Luke was ready to swing back at Percy harder until he heard the sound of twigs snapping. Annabeth revealed herself as she took off her invisible cap.

“Annabeth?” Luke whispered, furrowing his eyebrows. The anger in his gaze was suddenly replaced with remorse and sadness.

Annabeth hesitatingly lifted up her dagger. “I heard everything.”

Luke was about to step into the portal before he heard the sound of Y/N’s voice in the distance. In a desperate, and probably stupid, attempt at making the most of his few moments left, Luke opened another portal and jumped into it.

He immediately crashed into Y/N who held him up by his shoulders.

“Is it true?” She wailed.

Luke could only stare at the ground as his soulmate mark burnt with such intensity that it made him want to shout. “I’m sorry.” Was all he could muster up. Y/N’s emotional sobs racked her body until she let out a small gasp and wiped away her tears.

“I’ll come with you.” She uttered, “You don’t have to be alone. We can leave now!” Y/N grasped Luke’s wrist, tugging him forward. He remained still and unmoving.

“I can’t let you do that for me.” He said. “I won’t let you leave everything you’ve ever known behind for me.”

“But…” Y/N’s bottom lip trembled, “I want to… you have no idea what I would do for you.” Y/N almost pleaded, wanting to prove her complete devotion to Luke.

“I know. You would have walked to the ends of the earth. You would have walked off a cliff. You would have jumped into a pool of fire all for me.”

The tears running down Y/N’s cheeks made Luke feel pity for her. His sympathy towards her soon rotted into apathy as he spoke again. “That’s the problem. You’re willing to loose yourself to find me when I didn’t even know how to find myself. Let alone find another.”

Y/N quietly sniffed.

“The issue isn’t that I don’t know how much you love me… it’s that you love me too much.” Luke told Y/N the words he hadn’t been brave enough to say before.

But Y/N was not willing to back down. “Maybe if you knew how to love me, I wouldn’t have to make up for it with an abundance of myself.” She snapped.

“Maybe you‘re right.” Luke mumbled, unable to look her in the eyes as his ego deflated and he felt weak, like he was a new camper all over again. “Maybe I don’t know how to let you love me and maybe you love me too much and I love you too less.”

Luke slowly stepped away from Y/N. She reached out for him, hoping to grasp him before he slipped away. And she ran after him until he disappeared, his once calming presence slipping away and becoming one with the air.

Y/N kneeled to the ground as she cried. Her heart practically shattered in her chest, feeling like a million needles stabbing into her skin. Her tears felt like poison, stinging the flushed apples of her cheeks until her skin ran raw.

The rejection of a soulmate always hurt the most, both physically and mentally. As Luke said, the people who followed the rules of soulmates always ended up wounded.

Y/N walked away with a newfound awareness about her identity. That her hugs were more suffocating than comforting and no matter how pretty they are, her hands will always resemble cruel talons when grabbing things. Her ‘I love you’s are always said with her finger on the trigger of a gun and her careful kisses leave sore bruises instead of delicate lipstick stains.

Luke emerged from the portal, away from camp and his friends and family, with a newfound sense. His desire for intimacy is more like a repulsion and with every new door he opens, his hands will always tremble on the handle. No matter how pretty the walls are inside, he would always find himself standing next to the fire exit, ready to flee the first chance he gets.

To love a ghost without pouring some of your own essence into their empty and weary bones is an impossible request.

Y/N eventually came to the upsetting conclusion that she should have stayed away from Luke while Luke wished he had found more reasons to stay.

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