#word vomit. youre welcome.

[nonbinarypirat]

Heyyy so I saw you were open to questions and doing commentary!! So I was wondering do you think Azz and Iruma’s relationship is different than Clara’s and Iruma’s? And and also would love to hear any love trio thoughts🙏 tysm !!!!

this is a great question!! as a spoiler, i am deeply in love and invested in the soulmate group and love the connections they have together and on one on one ways. yes! i do think they are different in many ways! Here's a little break down on my thoughts on their relationships :) .Get ready for word vomit, i went overboard

Azz and Iruma: Azz and Iruma relationship is one of deep personal openess. That isn't to say that they leave Clara out of their personal feelings, they do, but both of them lacked the normal carefree freedom as kids. Azz because of his brilliance and Iruma because of his parents.

Due to this, we see they often fall into sharing thoughts and anxieties with each other in their solo interactions. Azz and Iruma have also known each other the longest, at least a week or two went by before meeting Clara. So Azz met Iruma VERY much when Iruma was at his weakest moment, when he was so confused about the world he found himself in. And despite the weridness with their relationship at the start, Azz has always been there with Iruma, he's the third person he ever met here. With Azz having toned down is extreme admiration to Iruma this has made these moments possible between them.

I also don't want to make it seem like they don't joke with each other, we have seen that they do. They have both changed so much when it comes to having fun thanks to Clara. Now, they are able to have a shopping day and be silly. But without Clara to really push the envelope when it comes to fun, they have more calculated fun.

Clara and Iruma: Very much a playful cutesy relationship. (I honestly hope we get more interactions of just the two of them in the future.) Clara represents the childhood Iruma never had, never could have, and therefore allows him to explore childlike wonder. How to open up in more expressive ways, carefree exploration, amd fun to the fullest extent. And by doing so, Clara is able to understand Iruma's moods better than most since we let our guards down completely during moments of pure relaxation.

We see this when Clara immediately saw Iruma was upset and needed to let out his emotions and just be a child. She knows when Iruma is genuinely happy and when he's stressed and doesn't know how to express it. And we have seen that Iruma greatly appreciates Clara for letting him experience and understand playing, something he never had the time to do before. And by being around Iruma, Clara has been able to develop strong moral and logical thinking. Clara has always been a character that is more aware of what's going on then she let's on. But I think the childlike part got in the way of full development in this aspect of her character.

With Iruma, she is able to explore and understand more complex ideas and thinking. One issue with being so isolated like Clara was is that she never got to explore any type of critical reasoning. These things can only be developed by interacting with others. And so, in the beginning Clara was very short sighted and immature. Now, she not only has the love trio, she also has the misfits and it's not clear if she would have been able to create this friend circle without meeting Iruma. She has grown so much as a character and I love seeing her be mature and willing to make sacrifices (putting aside Iruma time because Azz needed it more) while still being chaotically happy.

Love Trio: What can I say that probably hasn't been screamed about in a different post. They are soulmates, deeply connected to each other in every way and bring out the best in each other. They don't "complete" each other, more like they allow for each other to be themselves to the fulllest. They all default to too serious/angry (Azz), too hyper/inconsiderate (Clara) and too in his own way/"yes man" (Iruma) when apart and together, make up for their weaknesses and boost their strengths.

Each of them has been important to the other's growth. They all have their place in the love trio and deeply love their roles too. The love trios relationship is based on deep trust, mutual (and healthy) dependency, and joy. By being with each other, they have created a safe space to allow expressiveness and vulnerablity while still leaving room for fun and happiness.

And it's so cute to see how close and personal they all get. Especially Asmodeus who always felt more standoffish to physical affection in the beginnings, even with Iruma besides a hand of the shoulder. As the story progresses, we see them be more comfortable with each other and that shows in their physical closeness. It's just a wonderful design choice on the artistic side of things and perfect for showing them care more for each other. On a personal note, my headcannon is a queerplatonic poly relationship (though sometimes I ship it as a full on romantic relationship) so it's even cuter to me.

anyway, those are my thoughts and interpretations of the relationships! since this post become super duper large, I will make a seperate post about Azz and Clara and link it in the comments because their relationship is shaping up to be very cute too and not just iruma focused :)

[theneighborhoodwatch]

submission from i-like-eyes

Wally has been in front of a live audience. Barnaby has been in front of a live audience. Barnaby is not only the only character to be given a segment talking with home in the update (unless I’m misremembering oop) but also the only one to notice that Wally does literally nothing during segments of the show. I’m going to explode.

That wasn’t really well put together I’m still reeling from everything; Barnaby knows there is an outside world. Unless he somehow forgets or is in a fuck ton of denial, he has been in front of a live audience outside of Home. It is heavily theorized regarding a specific incident that Julie DOES NOT. We are probably safe in assuming the rest of Home is the same. Cool. Great. I fear a potential conflict arising between not just Barny and Wally but Barny and the rest of the cast. Explodes again. Side note; what does Home itself feel about Wally going so far away???????

[context for that specific incident mentioned in the second paragraph]

hmm. i think to determine whether or not barnaby still remembers the ~outside world~, we would need to ask ourselves if he was really at that interview at all. after all, wally knows that he’s a puppet, and puppets are made to be, well, puppeteered. the fact that this doesn’t change in front of a live audience probably wouldn’t faze him all too much. but a puppet who Isn’t aware of their status as one to begin with? who knows how they exist out there, if they exist at all. maybe in our world, they’re just their parts regardless of context - the puppet and the puppeteer. (this is, of course, assuming that the interview even really happened at all.) i’m not sure if i’m getting my point across very well here, it feels very hard to put into words. it could also be that it’s less that the neighbors are unaware of the outside world and more that they’re unaware that their world and ours are any different. we’ll probably have to wait and see.

something that struck me about the video files is that the first time i watched them i remember thinking something like “man, it’s kinda weird that for how Genuine the neighbors’ camaraderie feels even with split-second moments of tension, they always act like they have to be reminded that wally even exists.” the second time, though, i thought, “oh, wait, it’s not that they forget he’s there. it’s that he just straight up Never Initiates and we never see his response when he’s actually approached by another character in the video files. which is weird considering he’s the protag.” and of course, the only character who actually notices this (or at least, the only character who Verbalizes it) is barnaby. barnaby doesn’t seem like the oblivious type, or prone to blind devotion in the same way wally seems to be, but you can’t say that his attachment to wally isn’t real, at least not at this point in time. but can you say it won’t screw him over later down the line, especially if other characters become more suspicious of wally at the same time? who’s to say? dude’s probably being set up for some major internal conflict, at the very least.

[tefmiles]

something i will always applaud wtnv for is while they represent a healthy relationship between two gay men, they also do it in a realistic manor. its not over-glamorized or cutesy-wutsey or perfect, its full of flaws and imperfections that make up a normal long term relationship, with added difficulties from their environment, and the choices they make. they go to marriage counseling, they are separated for years, they work through their traumas. cecil and carlos have a son, they have a house, they communicate, and sometimes they don’t. it isn’t overdone, its very genuine in a way that is extremely refreshing to see. 

[polarnoid]

36. How much do they rely on their minds and intellect, versus other approaches like relying on instinct, intuition, faith and spirituality, or emotions? What is their opinion on this? (for Joseph!)

hehehe oooohhhh ehehheehe <my live reaction to this question

the thing with joe is that he is deranged, and he has a very interesting way of seeing his life and decisions, he is definitely some type of smart, but he leads everything by intuition, he trusts himself more than anyone else on this earth and it has to do with feeling like chosen by god, like over time this concept in his head slows down especially as he grows old, becuase he didnt think he got to get old but he does. so his faith and intuition are very much blurred, when in a tough spot it's all oh i don't get to die today because it's not meant to be which is a ridiculous mindset to have when he is literally a pirate and he lives in danger and he could in theory die any day, but he is so sure he won't. it makes it dificult to connect with others and he isn't vocal about what he thinks unless it would bring him some sort of advantage, everything is about playing games with him, to shoot or not to shoot, to jump or not to jump...it boils down to his intuition and his faith in himself which is absolutely delusional, luck doesn't exist and if it does it's for losers type of mentally. he's a dickhead and selfcentered but there is some humanity there it's just the way he has chosen to like cope with the trauma of being born in the space he was born in and it absolves him of responsibility, but it gives him power.

he doesn't have much of an opinion, he can be a bit condenscending at times about this because people are not appointed like he believes he is. so you know it does come with some judgement for others, but over time he settles and he calms down, but he never truly gives up on his own intuition, he stops linking it with faith. i haven't chosen what makes him like wake up ??? but something does at some point ! he also does detach himself from his emotions when it comes to making decisions at times, especially early on and sometimes that does affect others, in the sense that there is a lack of empathy because he comes first always...until he finds someone or multiple people to care about. he is just mentally a ball of tangled up yarn, he knows how it works, and how it benefits but it takes him time to like deconstruct it...

[noirrest]

by the gods if i ever have to work in a group project with neurodivergents again lets just say chernobyl wouldnt be called chernobyl anymore

[gorejo]

▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au

synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.

content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.

The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.

“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror. 

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.

Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.

“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.

“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment. 

“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.  

“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.  

It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.

College reunions, who looks forward to that? 

There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.

One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project. 

Poor kid was fired the next day.

The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened. 

No wonder it was so fucking loud that night. 

Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital. 

Never in hell were you going to show up alone. 

And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.

&lt;< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!! 

Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.

Maybe it was an excuse? 

Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it? 

But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world. 

Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”

Was that already eight years ago? 

But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…

… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.

“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.

Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.

“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.

“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”

“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”

“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”

“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.

“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging. 

“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”

“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.

“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed. 

Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?” 

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.

“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off. 

“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.

“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”

“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”

“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back. 

“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?” 

“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.

“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.

Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”

“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.

But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”

“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”

“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”

“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.

“You think so?” 

“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”

“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers. 

“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.

“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”

Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”

“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression

“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.

“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.

“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.

“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”

Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”

Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.

“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.

“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.

“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”

Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”

Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat. 

“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko, 

<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.  

Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”

— 

Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours. 

They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.

But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.

Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career. 

He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish. 

When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied. 

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam. 

With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.

And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl. 

Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”

“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”

“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”

“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes. 

“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”

“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”

“Yea, why so?”

“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!” 

Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you. 

For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you. 

Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number. 

And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.

“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”

All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes. 

But with him, you experienced all your firsts.

Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled,  “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream. 

You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day. 

Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?” 

Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you. 

Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity. 

To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.

He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart. 

Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.

You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him. 

So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it. 

And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.

From: Mom.

>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled. 

To: Minako.

<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako? 

From: Minako.

>> Whenever! I can meet now!

>> Is this about our potential engagement?

To Minako.

<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.

You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.

The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.

You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”

how long was this going on for? 

Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?

Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved? 

Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?

The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.

... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day. 

Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”

“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.

The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb. 

After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”

Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.

“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”

“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”

“Says who?” the man challenged. 

“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”

“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.

"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking. 

“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”

“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”

Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.

After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him. 

To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience. 

To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.

—-

“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head. 

Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.

You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl. 

Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him. 

But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.

Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way  —

Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor. 

“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?” 

You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice. 

Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered. 

“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving. 

You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.

“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.

Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week. 

“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws. 

Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs. 

“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?” 

“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot. 

A ring? you wondered.  

“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.

“Had no excuse not to come.”

“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”

“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.

Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”

Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes. 

Since when did he have that ring? 

Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.

Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —

“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”

Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.   

Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”

“What are you talking —” you stammered.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat. 

“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.

“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”

“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?

“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”

“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.

“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.

All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.

“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”

“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”

"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.

"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.

"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"

" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.

"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.

"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"

“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?” 

“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.

“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.

“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.

His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"

“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.

You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore… 

“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.

The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair,  his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.

“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.

“… I love you,” you confessed.

Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”

...

You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.

Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.

Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.

“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.

Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring

“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.

“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again. 

“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.

“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.

Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.

Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile. 

And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.

“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you. 

Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."

At least for this night, he was yours. 

You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.

And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip. 

Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed? 

“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.

“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.

“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.

"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.

“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum. 

His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.

Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.

“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”

You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.  

“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.

And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.

“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.

“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured. 

“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head. 

Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.

Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.

“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.

Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.

“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.

… 

How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago. 

“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?” 

Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.

“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”

Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.

“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”

“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.

“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”

“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.

“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.

Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.

"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."

"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.

“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.

“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”

Seven.

He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,

“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out. 

You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.

“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.

“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.

"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms. 

—-

Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.

Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.

Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.

Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.

His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.

His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.

Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing. 

Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.  

Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night. 

“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.

“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.

You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.

And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,

“I’m sorry…”

—- 

It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel. 

You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.

Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.

You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.

You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.

You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.

And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,

“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”

“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.

Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.

You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish. 

But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.

Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.

Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.

Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?

“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.

Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.

“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.

“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”

“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked

“Well, she did ask about us."

“And… did she threaten you or anything?”

“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled. 

Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."

And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.

“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.

"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”

"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.

"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."

“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.

“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.

“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.

“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”

Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”

“B-but you came late to the reunion.”

“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.

“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.

“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."

"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."

"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”

“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.

“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.

“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.

“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”

"I'd like that," you whispered.

“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes. 

And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,

“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”

author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells

again, i hope you enjoyed it!!

p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!

It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards. 

He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it. 

For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello? 

Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him. 

That was until you made the first move. 

It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything. 

At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams. 

"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"

"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"

Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"

"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own. 

You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree. 

In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind. 

"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?

Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet. 

"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten. 

"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"

"Watch out!" You shrieked.

"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed. 

"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds. 

"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."

"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"

Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."

Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"

Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."

"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him. 

"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."

"Um..."

"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."

"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur. 

"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."

Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."

At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"

"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."

"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously. 

Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."

"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.

Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"

Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"

"Mhm," you nodded. 

"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours. 

"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."

"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows. 

"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"

Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."

Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."

[reiderwriter]

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.

Genre: Smut, with very little plot and some fluff as an appetiser. MINORS DNI

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink (contraception mentioned), also they have sex literally against the readers front door but I don't know how I'm supposed to add a warning for that...

Word Count: 2.4K

Here's Part 1 and my Masterlist!

A/N: Welcome back! I have a week off from work and no plans for at least four days, so I'm going to be writing a lot this week, so if anyone wants to be added to a taglist pls reply and let me know! My requests are open, too. For now this mini-series is complete, but I might write a third part at some point with the shower scene. Let me know what you think!

The small moment of silence after feeling yourself die a small death in Spencer’s hands is possibly the clearest your mind has been all week. You felt the fatigue melt away from your body as you relaxed into the car seat, knowing that the man who had once again taken to tracing his fingers in small shapes on your thigh, was absolutely going to take care of you.

As he pulled up to your apartment, however, your mind started working all over again, and you cleared your throat ready to start possibly one of the most awkward conversations you’d ever have in your life.

“Thank you for dropping me off.” You opened, not really sure where you were going, but praying that the car stopping didn’t signal whatever this was between you and your coworker stopping as well.

“Y/N, it’s your car. I didn’t drop you off, I practically commandeered you.” He smiled at you now, with that soft, tender smile you’d so often wished to have directed at you and only you.

“So,” you start, your hesitation shaking your voice slightly, “were you serious about joining me in that shower? Because that is absolutely something I need right now, by the way.” You almost curse yourself for how much your vomiting out the words, but the smile never leaves Reid’s eyes as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“You need the shower or you need me to join you?”

“You know, before today, I’d never have pegged you as such a fucking tease.”

“And I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who begged your coworker to finger-fuck you in the office on full display for your friends to watch, but I guess were both learning a lot about each other today, right?”

“I did not beg.” You stared at him indignantly, finally unbuckling your seatbelt and rearranging your dress and panties so that the walk to your apartment would’nt be too uncomfortable.

Jumping out of the driver side, Spencer quickly joined you at your door as you stepped out of the car, closing the door and pushing you up against it, his hands firmly holding your waist now as he pressed his forehead against yours.

The moment was so intimate you almost forgot how to breathe, but the giggle that jumped from your stomach forced air into your lungs just as his lips curled up into a more playful smile as he responded to you.

“You didn’t beg with your words,” he emphesised the end of his sentence with an innocent kiss to your cheek, pausing to add “but we work as profilers.” Another kiss, this time to your other cheek. “And I’m very good at my job.” This time he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

It was so totally unlike the desperate kisses you shared in the elevator that you were thrown off your guard for a minute and would’ve absolutely lost your balance had he not been there holding you up against your car. Where his earlier kisses had been hot, purposeful and full of need, these were almost deliriously slow. You felt him smiling into the kiss as his hand moved up to cup the back of your head, pushing you further into his embrace as you gave each other everything you had.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air but grinning like fools, he quickly pecked you on the lips again before slipping his hand into yours and pulling you along into your own home. He unlocked your door, threw down the keys and immediately had you pushed up against it, his hands back in your hair as his mouth made its way along your neck, as if he didn’t want to leave any spot untasted, undiscovered.

“Spencer,” you moaned into his embrace, but he did not relent, finding a specifically sensitive spot at the nape of your neck and devoting all of his worldly attention to it.

“Spencer, do you remember when we met?” You breathed out, needing to force the thought out before you lost the chance. He hummed a quick affirmation against your neck, but didn’t pull away, like a child reluctant to part from their favorite toy.

“Spencer, please,” you laughed and finally managed to force him to look into your eyes, your bodies still pushed together at the hips, as if the physical contact was tethering him to the moment.

“Yes, Y/N, I remember. I remember everything, that’s my thing. Now can we continue this, please.” He dropped another kiss to your lips and lingered there for a moment too long as if to punctuate his thought.

Rolling your eyes, you continued. “I tried to shake your hand, and you gave me that speech that you give to everybody about germs and bacteria and whatever and then you said it’d be safer to kiss.”

“What’s your point, princess?”

“The point is that the very second it came out of your mouth, I wanted you to do it. Kiss me, I mean. I wanted you to do this, to pin me against a wall and make my heartbeat ten times faster than it already does, and, yes before you say anything, I know that would be incredibly dangerous for my health, but you are Spencer. You are the most dangerous thing that has happened to me, and I love you so fucking much.”

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t resume your activities either. You just stood there together in companionable silence, breathing each other in. As if breaking himself out of a daze, he finally dragged one finger down your cheek, taking all of you in before replying.

“I love you. And I’m not good with words or talking so I need you to let me show you that I love you. Can you do that, Princess?” You eagerly nod, your hips rolling forward unconsciously, as if your body suddenly remembered what the two of you were there to do.

He pulls your leg into him, letting the entirety of his body push up against you, as you feel the physical manifestation of his desire for you for the first time. He returns to your neck again, but pushes your leg up higher, so he can nestle as deep between you as he can get. You let your hands trail down his body, making quick work at the buttons of that tantilising shirt, and when he comes up for breath, you don’t allow him a moment to move back in before you’re on his neck.

The sweat sticking to his skin tastes salty as you kiss and lick your way from his jaw to his collar bone, pushing his shirt down his back so you can go further down. His throaty moans are the only sounds filling the room as he rocks his hips into your thighs, desperate for friction of any kind.

Although he’s reluctant to let you go, he’s almost relieved when you finally drop to your knees and make short work of his belt, still no further into yout apartment than your welcome mat.

“God, I’m so glad I get to keep this memory of you on your knees for me forever, Princess.” He smooths your now messy hair away from your face as you pull the tops of his pants down just enough to reach into his underwear, too eager to worry about fully derobing him. When his cock finally springs out of his pants, you’re hands are on it immediately. You press small kisses on the tip and sides, your hands moving down to his base as you work your way up to kitten licks, teasing the man slowly.

“Such a little whore for me.” You know from the change in pet names and the tightened grip on your hair that he’s growing impatient, and so you finally take him into your mouth, slowly, making sure to breath through your nose as he moves closer and closer to hitting the back of your throat.

When you get as much of him inside your mouth as you’re able, you start slowly bobbing your mouth up and down, one hand on his thigh maintaining your balance, and the other making sure the rest of his impressive length doesn’t feel neglected.

“Fuck, yes, Just like that baby. You’re doing such a great job,” he moans, but he’s getting impatient again, and you pull off his cock quickly, sticking out your tongue and giving him the permission to use you the way he needs.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says, pulling your hair into place with one hand, whilst the other pumps the base of his cock and pushes it back into your mouth, ready for him to use you like the little slut he knows you are.

“Just breath through it, Princess, you’re doing so well for me.” He starts thrusting into your throat, slowly at first, but quickly building speed like a man deranged, whose only hope at solace is spilling himself into the back of your throat. You do your best to keep your jaw relaxed, and honestly he’s impressed by how long you last, but when you finally start gagging, he’s seeing stars and his groans are having a notable effect on you.

You’re soaking now, so desperate for friction and contact you briefly consider pulling his leg into you and grinding yourself against his shoe, desperate for another release. You know he’s getting closer to his own, when he loosens his hold on your hair and let’s it fall down again, his hands pushing against your front door again as he braces himself.

“God, Princess, look at what you do to me,” he moans as he finally pulls you off of him, your face covered with a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum, a whole lot of which is still trailing between your lips and his cock as you look up at him from beneath hooded eyes.

“Spencer, please,” you shudder and try to catch your breath, as he hits the head of his cock gently against the side of your face, marking you again in the places his lips touched you earlier.

“Please what, Princess? You have to use your words.”

You catch your breath again as his tip traces your bottom lip, gathering some more of your mess.

“Please fuck me, Spencer.” It comes out as a whimper, and he’d almost feel bad if he weren’t so fucking turned on right now, looking down at your innocent face, slick with saliva from choking on his dick. He pulls you up quickly, grabbing at your hips, pulling the bottom of your dress over your ass and ridding you of your panties in one movement.

“So fucking wet for me, my special baby.” He whispers tenderly, pushing your upper body into the door and pressing a small kiss just behind your ear.

He presses himself against your slit, teasing your senstive spots by stroking up and down the length of your pussy until you're dizzy with need and shaking in anticipation. Just as you’re about to scream in frustration and push back on him yourself, he thrusts himself entirely into you, and you are once again breathless.

Your mind goes blank as he pushes into you, gaining a steady rhythm as he whispers praise into your ear.

“You’re taking me so well baby, so fucking good, like you were made just for me.” You feel yourself clench around him as his breath tickles your still sensitive neck, and each time you do you're rewarded with the sweet tones of his groans in your ears.

His hands find their way down to your clit as you beg him for more, unable to form words, but the pants and whimpers you’re letting out supplying him with enough to know that you’re close to the end of your tether.

“Where do you want me, baby?” He asks, his strokes getting slower and somehow even deeper as he does his best to prolong your shared bliss.

“Don’t pull out,” you groan without even thinking. You don’t want to let him go but in this position you cant wrap your legs around him and hold him close so you have to muster up the strength to tell him what you need.

“Oh fuck baby, you want me to fucking cum inside you? Want me to breed you like the little fucking whore you are? Every word drove you crazy, the weight of his body pushing you against the door providing delicious pressure as he drove into you.

“You want everyone to see how good I fuck you? Show everyone how much you like having my cum inside you?” The wet slaps of your skin colliding with each thrust fill the room as your mouth fails to form a reply, your orgasm hitting you as soon as the word inside forms on his tongue.

You shudder around him as your eyes roll back in your head, his fingers on your clit rocking you through it as he keeps up his pace.

“Fuck, that’s it baby girl. Gonna fill you up now, gonna keep you filled from now on,” he moans, and with a final snap of his hips he’s buried inside of you letting his cum flow directly into your unprotected pussy.

You stay like that for a two minutes, panting and gasping for breath, your dress completely stuck to your body, and his pants still stuck around his ankles.

When you both finally catch your breath, he pulls out of you and turns you around, pulling you in for another tender kiss and just holding you for another minute before pulling you further into the apartment.

“Just so you know,” you eventually manage to push out. “I’m on the pill.”

“I know. I saw the pills when we shared that hotel room on the Denver case a few months back. It was still fucking hot though.”

You shared a laugh, almost embarrassed by how much the two of you had wanted each other. You make a bee-line for the bedroom, almost desperate for sleep after your vigorous activities, but Spencer paused as you passed the bathroom.

“You know,” he laughs exhaustedly, “we never did make it to the shower.”

“In due time, Doctor. In due time.”

----X----

🏷️ @spenciesprincess

[shewroteaworld]

I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't

Premise: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you.

Word count: approx. 3,200

TW: Brief mention of vomit and, perhaps, hospitals

(Y/N/N): Your nickname

Author's Note: Super excited to introduce brilliant sunshine!reader (aka, super smart sunshine!reader) onto my fanfic writing scene! Definitely willing to write more of her in the future if anyone is interested. Hope you enjoy!

“Does anybody have more water?”

“Where is the damn ambulance?”

Perhaps your job classically conditioned you to respond to Hotch’s “I’m seriously not fucking around” tone because your eyes crack open. 

Someone put weights on your eyelids and cranked the sun to extra-bright. The harsh rays burned your retinas and washed everything in a white blur. Did someone set off a flash bang?

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” Miraculously, out of the screeching white, you made out JJ’s halo of blonde hair. 

“JJ?” You groaned. Even though you could barely see, it felt like the whole world was spinning, 

“Hotch, she’s coming around!” You recognized Morgan’s voice. “Welcome back to the world of the living, honey. We’re happy to see you.”

Your heart rate spiked. You never died. Did you die? 

“Yes, we still need a medic!” Hotch barked. 

You winced. “Wha?” Suddenly, your mouth couldn’t handle a one-syllable world. Even more alarming, your brain, the same brain that kept up with Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid,  couldn’t understand what the hell was going on.

 “What I do?” You whined. 

“He’s not yelling at you, honey,” JJ said like a kindergarten teacher. “You’re just a little out of it right now.”

“Is she conscious?” Another voice entered. Your head spun. “I brought more water.” 

You moaned to suppress a gag. Your eyelids drooped, and you relished in the break from the light.

“Hey, smarty pants, stay with us.” Morgan pat your cheek. “Let Emily get some water in you.” You couldn’t force your eyes open more if you tried.

Your friend Emily. That’s who the voice belonged to. 

Suddenly, JJ pulled your hair from your face, Morgan lifted your head, and Emily forced a water bottle to your lips simultaneously.  The blinding glare seared your eyes and your head spun. You wanted to sob and maybe vomit.

Your chest hitched with a shallow inhale. “Stop.” You whined.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” JJ said.

“No!” You exclaimed.

“Honey–” Morgan tried. 

You thrashed against his hold, but your exhausted muscles couldn’t throw Morgan’s gentlest grip. 

“Maybe we should let her go.” Emily said.

“She needs water.” JJ countered.

“She’s disoriented.” Hotch cut in. “Let her get her bearings first, but don’t let her close her eyes.”

Gingerly, Morgan lay your body back on the grass. Your head swam, and your vision rippled as if you could see the heat waves in the California air. You tried to take a deep breath but choked.  

You sputtered. Every inhale led to a series of dry coughs. In your delirium, you thought of Spencer. Your Spencer. Where the hell was he? Did he not love you anymore?

Suddenly, Hotch loomed over you. His tall frame blocked out the brutality of the sun’s glare, which eased your headache and nausea but not your cough. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed they formed a trench of wrinkles across his forehead. “Check her airway.” 

Suddenly, you stared into JJ’s blue eyes. Other hands tried to manipulate your body. You jerked.

“(Y/N), relax.”

“Honey, please–”

“Turn her on her side!” Morgan’s cut off by Reid, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard. 

***

Spencer Reid has survived many traumatic situations. 

He's cared for his schizophrenic mother. He’s been kidnapped. He recovered from a drug addiction. And those are just a few items from his dissertation-length “PTSD-Causing Experiences” list. 

But many of his worst traumas were a by-product of being a profiler– a job which allowed him to utilize his intellect to help others. He was willing to accrue trauma like Pokemon cards in exchange for applying his genetic gifts to create a safer world. 

Reid could have framed your heat exhaustion as another scare in the line of duty. But when Reid saw you, his brilliant girl, on the ground, his heart fell through his feet.

Then, he saw how his the team responded to your medical emergency.

When he witnessed you coughing and writhing on your back as the team leered over with water, he thought he might explode.

You could be asphyxiating, and the team could be letting you choke while forcing more fluid down your throat. 

He shivered as he sprinted down the steps of the local precinct and onto the grassy field where you lay. 

“Turn her on her side!” He yelled as diagnoses and courses of action fled through his mind on hyperspeed.

“We’re trying, she—”

“Spence?” You choked out through a coughing fit. He’s surprised his ears caught it.

Reid knelt next to you. “Let’s get you into recovery position.” He said, his voice suddenly soft as clouds. Reid gingerly pushed you onto your left side. “Off your back, there we go.” He bent your right leg and slid it in front of your body to prevent you from rolling onto your stomach if you lost consciousness. 

“Did she faint?” Reid asked the team. He couldn’t take his eyes from your face. 

“We think so. She was dizzy, so she laid on the ground. Then she was unresponsive for at least 40 seconds,” Emily said. 

Spencer pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Predictably, you were feverishly hot. “She’s burning up. Has someone called an ambulance?”

“Allegedly.” Hotch said, an edge to his voice. 

“We have, sir. They’re on their way.” A local police officer responded, exasperated.

Spencer’s eye twitched. “How long has she been down?” You whined, and he stroked your cheekbone with his thumb.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He whispered. 

“In total, 15 minutes.” Hotch supplied. “Emily, pour some more water on her.”

“This was for her to drink.”

“Use one bottle to pour on her face and neck.” Spencer said. “I ran and got Gatorade. She should start with sips of that when she can swallow. Heat stroke can also be caused by salt depletion.” 

Spencer was conversing with a local officer over the safety protocols in the area when a pair of policemen walked into the precinct, gossiping about the FBI agent who “folded fast in the southern Cali heat.”

Spencer’s jaw had clenched. Maybe one of his team members was ill since they put in most of the grunt work to catch the unsub. He would’ve been more annoyed if not for the worry gnawing at his brain. What if they were talking about (Y/N)? She looked a little shaky right after her chase with the unsub, but Spencer didn’t get a chance to ask his friend if she was alright. And, stupidly enough, he forgot to text her to check if she drank any water post-case. Quickly, Reid excused himself, grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, and rushed to the field where your limp body trembled on the grass. 

“I’m going to pour some water on you, honey," Emily said. You flinched as the frigid water hit your hairline. 

“Breathe, relax.” Spencer said, shielding your nose. The last thing you needed was some accidental waterboarding.

Seconds after the water drenched your forehead, your whole body relaxed into the grass. “That felt good.” You smiled weakly. 

Spencer stroked your arm. “Let’s sit you up in a minute, okay? You should try some Gatorade before the EMTs get here.”

“EMTs? I’m fine.” You whined.

Spencer didn’t think it was possible for his eyebrows to crease further. 

“You’re not fine.” Gentler, he said, “and it’s okay not to be fine, sunlight.”

“But, I’m alive.” You tried to roll onto your stomach, but your bent leg kept you safe on your back.

Some on the team members chuckled, but Spencer didn’t find your delirium humorous. “I know you’re alive, sweetie. But you’re way too hot. I think you’re a little confused right now.”

“I’m just…” You winced. “I’m alive.”

The knot in Spencer’s chest tightened ten-fold. This could be heat stroke. At the very least, you had heat exhaustion. You were dehydrated. You were delirious. 

Best case scenario: you were ill for a few days. Worst case scenario: You had vital organ damage.

Just as he’s about to call 911 himself, JJ interrupted him. “Look–ambulance lights. Help is on the way, honey.”

“You hear that, (Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine.” Morgan said. If only Spencer felt that confident. 

“Spence…” You blocked your eyes from the light with your limp right hand. “I’m scared. I don’t feel well.” 

“Oh, (Y/N), I know.” He cupped your shoulder and hoped you could feel his love for you through his palm. That sent a jolt down his spine. He wasn’t supposed to comfortably think those thoughts about you.

You were sick. This wasn’t the time. He leaned over your body. He gave you plenty of breathing room, but his torso was  parallel to your hip so his eyes could meet your watering ones. “Hey, take a breath for me, Smartie.” 

Your nickname for him slipped from his tongue so easily it spooked him. Suddenly, he noticed his thumb stroking over your cotton t-shirt. He should stop. The whole team was watching. He was being was too intimate; he'd face stupid quips from Morgan for days. He kept stroking anyway.

He observed your chest rise and fall. Your breaths were shaky but deeper. He relaxed a tad. Vital oxygen was reaching your bloodstream.

“(Y/N), can we try something?” Spencer asked.

“Yes. Maybe. What is it?”

The knot in his chest loosened. You responded immediately and with more than two words; you were becoming more lucid. 

“Can you sit up and have some sips of Gatorade? I got your favorite flavor. At least, if your favorite flavor hasn’t changed from three years ago.” It most likely hadn’t. Once your opinion settled, it was frustratingly hard to erode your verdict. 

“I can’t…I don’t know.”

“I know sitting up is hard. I’ll help you. And I’ll prop you against my chest. I’ll hold your weight when you can’t.”

“KK, Spence.” Your childlike tone tugged at his heart strings.

Spencer and Morgan lifted your limp body from the ground. They manhandled you into a sitting position with your head propped on Spencer’s shoulder and your body tucked between his thighs. 

One of his arms stabilized you while the other raised a cold bottle of orange Gatorade to your lips.

After nine sips of Gatorade, you spoke again. 

“Orange.” You took another sip. "My favorite.”

He smiled into your hair. “When have I ever lied to you, (Y/N/N)?”

***

Spencer nearly created a crater in the linoleum floor of the ER waiting room with his bouncing heel by the time the doctor came back with an update. 

“She had a mild case of heat stroke. We currently have her on fluids, and she’ll need lots of rest for at least the next week.” Doctor Bahamani concluded. 

“No signs of metabolic dysfunction? Any respiratory distress?” Reid checked. 

Doctor Bahamani smiled knowingly. “She’s going to be just fine, Doctor Reid.”

“Can I see her?” Spencer asked. 

“Yes. Only two at a time, please.” 

Spencer didn’t care who volunteered with him. He moved without thinking. An outpouring of gratitude for his eidetic memory flooded him. Through the thickest brain fog, he could trust his recollection of the hospital to bring him to the correct hospital room.

The security staff practically had to drag him away from your bedside after the ambulance ride. They might have thrown him out of the ER if not for the flash of his FBI badge.

Something nagged at him as he sped past the nursing station. 

You were going to be fine. The ER doctor confirmed it. Yet his heart was still pounding and he could barely refrain from running. Even more odd, he wasn’t ashamed of his irrational behavior. 

So what if a doctor deemed you were okay? It was you. And he saw you groggier and more out of it than you'd ever been. And who knows how thorough the doctors were with their examination? It was completely reasonable to worry for one of his closest friends. 

He just couldn't believe you were alright until he checked you over with his own hands and his own eyes.

***

When you grinned at him from your cot, Spencer wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.

Tears glazed your eyes. But, your gorgeous smile was back. 

“Spencer?” You asked, brow raised and head cocked. 

He’d been staring too long. He looked like an idiot, lamely standing in the doorway as if he were the one with heat stroke.

“Straighten your head. Your neck is probably tight.”

You smiled, but this time it was tight-lipped and painful-looking. “You’re too worried.”

He watched saline drip down your IV. “Of course I’m worried, (Y/N). You got heat stroke.” With a deep breath as a shot of courage, he sat in the chair by the head of your bed.

There was nothing odd about sitting with his best friend at the hospital. 

His chest twisted at “best friend” and his resolve collapsed. He couldn’t deny it anymore. 

He liked you. He really, really liked you. He actually might even–

“Luckily, I got out pretty unscathed.” You snapped Spencer out of his spiral. “A little dehydrated. Achy. Might feel sick for a few days.”

“Or weeks.” Spencer corrected.

“Trying to look on the bright side here, Doctor.” You smirked and Spencer swore his right ventricle tightened.

Then, your nose scrunched and Spencer's wiped clean of any concern about his cardiac health. 

“What hurts?”

“Just a little achy, Spencer. I’m alright.” 

He shot you a look. He knew all your excuses. He knew you went to self-harming lengths to not worry people. 

“You’re not alright.” He reached for the red nurse-call button. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Okay…my body aches, Spence. And the IV burns. But they’ve already told me that’s normal. No need to take nurses away from an emergency.”

The nurses at the station desk didn’t appear to be rushing around for anyone, but Spencer feared this wouldn’t behoove his case. 

“They can give you pain medication, if you want.”

You hesitated, and immediately Spencer pressed the button. When you smiled weakly instead of bickering, his worry grew tenfold but not without a rush of heat flooding his entire body. 

In Morgan's words, he’s down bad. 

“How are you doing, sunshine?” As if he’d been summoned, Morgan appeared in the doorway. 

Spencer stepped back from your cot. The part of him riled from Morgan’s “sunshine” moniker wants to shove his hand into yours. Spencer thought he hid his annoyance well, but something about Morgan's smirk told him otherwise.

“Um…”

Morgan’s smirk fell. “You feel that bad, huh?”

You chuckled sadly. “Do I look that shitty or am I an open book today?”

“You never look shitty,” Spencer said. A tsunami of blood rushed to his face.

“Anyway,” Morgan said, “Do you want anything, Beauty Queen? I can grab you some jello.” 

“Jello sounds nice.” You said, and something in your voice was so vulnerable and naive Spencer wanted to wrap you in his arms as tight as he could. Which was illogical. That would only hurt you further. 

He shook his head as if that would remove the thoughts from his mind. “I’m gonna see if I can check up on your labs at the nurse’s station. I’ll make sure they’re giving you the good drugs.” He smiled.

You laughed– a genuine laugh– and Spencer’s heart soared. “Thanks, Spence.”

“I’ll go grab your jello,” Morgan said.

“Hold on, you should stay with her just in case she needs anything," Spencer said.

“I’ll be fine, Spence.” You said, but Spencer was not prepared to take "no" for an answer.

“If you boys wants to run her some errands, I’ll stay.” Emily stood in the doorway. “JJ is coming soon too– she just got a phone call from a very frantic Penelope.”

Your nose crinkled. “Oh no.” You groaned, but you were smiling. 

“Oh, yes. Be prepared for some mother henning," Emily said.

“Garcia can’t be any more mother henning than Reid," Morgan said. 

Before his face could turn redder than a baboon’s bottom, Spencer fled.

He’s only two yards from the nursing station when Morgan intercepted him at the end of the hall. 

“So, you’re going to make your move, right?”

Spencer's body temperature plummeted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He tried to shoulder past Morgan, but he was no match for his grip strength. “Reid, c’mon. You like (Y/N).”

Part of him wanted to laugh. “Like” seemed too simple of a word to describe the symphony of feelings (Y/N) started in him. “It’s…” He’s too tongue-tied to lie. “It’s complicated.”

You’re brilliant. You’re beautiful. You’re brimming with empathy. You’re everything Spencer could want. And it scared the shit out of him. Because that meant there’s even more to lose. And if he lost you, there would be no one to blame but himself. It was better for his psyche to not go there with you– to step back from the line rather than risk what would happen if he failed to make it work in the end. 

And what if you got hurt? What is you fell in the line of duty? Or worse, what if someone targeted you because of your romantic tie to him? Spencer's already experienced the pain of losing a soulmate-- a concept he wasn't even sure he believed in-- once. He wasn't not sure if he could survive it a second time.

There was too much unpredictability in his life. He chose a dangerous profession. He was gifted a ticking time-bomb of dangerous genes. He’d never forgive himself if he inflicted onto you the pain he’s been through; losing loved ones, whether through death or mental illness. 

Morgan's expression turned sympathetic. “Reid, you should give it a shot. Our lives our hectic. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

Spencer blinked to block tears from welling. “I just want her to be happy, too.”

“And who says you don't make her happy?”

“His idiotic genius brain.” Rossi appeared from around the corner.

Spencer froze. “You heard?” His face flushed yet again.

“Just the tail end. But Reid…” He trailed off.

Morgan took the hint. “I’m going to get (Y/N) some jello. With my charm, I could negotiate for some whipped cream.” 

“Don’t get whipped cream on it. She’s lactose sensitive,” Spencer said.

Morgan's stupid smirk reappeared. “Gotcha, Reid.”

Rossi took Morgan's place. Once Morgan was out of sight, he began his speech. “You love her. Don’t get in your own way.” Rossi put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “And (Y/N) is an incredibly intelligent woman. Don’t insult her intelligence by thinking she can’t decide who is or is not worth taking a risk. And for what it’s worth…a man like you is worth the risk.” 

Rossi left Reid staring at his back. 

For the longest time, Reid convinced himself he refrained from asking you out to protect you from himself and his hefty baggage. And that’s not completely untrue. 

But suddenly, he realized he was primarily trying to protect himself from exposing his vulnerabilities to you this whole time. There’s never been a person whose opinion affected him like yours. There's never been a life he's wanted to protect more except perhaps...Maeve.

But just like it’s up to you to decide who’s worth the risk, it’s up to him to decide as well.

And if today taught him anything, shit happens. And if you slip through his fingers, he doesn't want it to because he wasn't brave enough to make a first move.

And being your person was more than worth the risk of rejection.

Author's Note: Thank you to so much to everyone who stuck around through my hiatus! I appreciate every single one of you! You're super cool :)

Happy to be back! Inbox is open to chat about writing and take requests! Please check pinned "Blurb Requests" post before requesting! (Will update the post as my boundaries update!)

Have an awesome day or night, wherever you are in this crazy world. I am incredibly thankful you spent part of your precious life reading something I penned.

Forever grateful,

shewroteaworld

[wilwheaton]

fuck you pat robertson

Pat Robertson walks past thousands of souls, smugly and full of pride, and cuts to the front of the line at the velvet rope in outside the entrance to his version of Heaven.

The bouncer looks up from their clipboard, observing Robertson with thousands of eyes in a swirling cascade of light.

"Pat Robertson," they say. "We've been expecting you."

Pat Robertson silently congratulates himself. He swells with joy. All those people who died from AIDS, natural disasters, even 9/11 ... they all deserved it. They were sinners!

The bouncer speaks into their headset. "He's here." They listen. "Yep. At the front of the line."

The bouncer turns most of its gaze back to Pat Robertson. "Just wait here for one moment, please."

Pat Robertson steps to one side and waits.

After one thousand years, he begins to wonder if there was a miscommunication.

"Excuse me," he says to the bouncer, "I am Pat --"

"Robertson. Yes. We know. We're just getting everything in order for you. It will just be one more moment."

Tens of thousands of victims of gun violence walk past him and enter Heaven. The population of an entire village, lost in a typhoon that was intensified by climate change, is welcomed. And still he waits.

They file past him, all the people he looked down on. All the people he hurt, directly and indirectly, don't even notice him as they pass. It's like he isn't even there.

Another thousand years pass. Pat Robertson realizes he hasn't had a thing to eat since he died and he is so very hungry.

"Hey!" He shouts at the bouncer. "What's the problem? Don't you know who I am?"

The bouncer rolls half a million eyes at once. "We know exactly who you are."

"Well, alright, then!" Pat Robertson spits out, exasperated, "if you aren't going to help me, get someone here who will!"

The bouncer speaks into its headset again. "We're ready."

A gibbering mass of what is mostly human flesh -- or was, once -- slithers / rolls / flops into Pat Robertson's view. It is covered with mouths that bleed and weep and click their teeth together. Enormous open sores swirl and burst and close and reopen and drip pus and viscera across blistering skin. The faint memory of a smell surrounds it, something like very old cigar smoke and very expensive liquor.

Pat Robertson tries to scream. Arm-like stalks extend from the quivering shape. One resembles a hand at the end of an arm, dripping viscera.

In a flash, it grabs Pat Robertson's hand and shakes it. Something hot and acidic splashes up on his arm, blinds him in one eye. He feels weak. Afraid. Alone. Confused.

Hundreds of mouths try to speak. Dozens of them vomit acrid bile that splashes across his chest. Dozens more silently spit out the lies they've been cursed to repeat for eternity to an audience who will never hear them again.

One mouth speaks clearly. So clearly, it's inside Pat Robertson's head and everywhere else all at once. "I'm Rush Limbaugh," it says. "I'm your new roommate. Come with me."

And that's when Pat Robertson knows. That's when it all hits him, all at once. He's getting everything he deserves.

The line to get into Heaven does not see or hear or notice him, or the Limbeast. They can't hurt anyone, anymore.

The cancerous mass of hate wraps its arm around his shoulder and just like that Pat Robertson finds himself in a vast parody of a cathedral. It's built of bones and flesh and lies. The walls writhe, and he sees that they are not bricks and lathe but bodies wrapped in confederate flags and wearing red hats.

The pews are filled to capacity with the souls of people who followed him in life, hated who he told them to hate. Only their hate is now focused on him, hot and unforgiving. Relentless.

Pat Robertson looks for his companion, but it has vanished. It has left him alone to suffer.

A sermon rises in his chest and pushes against his throat. Pat Robertson is compelled to speak, and as he does each word tears through him like broken glass. He spews his hate and his lies, just as he did in life. Only in this place, he doesn't feel the glee and the satisfaction he always did. No, he feels the pain and the suffering and the agony of every human being who he deliberately hurt. He. Feels. All. Of. It. He tries to stop speaking. Of course, he can not. He can not ever stop.

And Pat Robertson's eternity begins.

[lehguru]

HOW THEY KISS + JJK MEN

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, itadori yuuji, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji

info: not proofread, i'm at work and i just decided to word vomit here pls forgive me for any mistake y'all

gojo satoru kisses you as if it's the last thing he will do. there's always a urgency and a need behind his lips and his touch, it always makes you breathless and even a little shaken up. he always tastes like candy and his lips are soft, they feel like silk as he kisses your neck and your cheek before kissing you properly. he usually pulls you by the waist or the loops of your pants to kiss you.

geto suguru kisses you so deeply and so slowly, it makes goosebumps raise on your arms. he cups both of your cheeks with his hands and stares into your eyes. he chuckles softly before finally kissing you; you can feel his love and his calmness flowing from his body to yours, the kiss and his touch immediately relaxing you. everything could be crumbling down around both of you, but geto would still kiss you as if he have all the time in the world.

nanami kento have kisses that make you feel like you're at home. whenever he kisses you, his smell seems to wrap around you, relaxing your entire body. before fully kissing your lips, he often holds your chin and press a soft kiss on your forehead, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he does that. he is a big fan of quick and sweet smooches, he would adore to kiss you before going to work and the thought of your 'welcome back' kiss is what gets him through the day.

itadori yuuji kisses you as if you're his everything - because you are. his favorite thing is to randomly give you a quick kiss and murmur a compliment against your lips, his arms giving you a big bear hug. when it comes to deeper kisses, he always softly touches you, his hands almost don't touch you, as if he was afraid of hurting your body with his strength. when you pull away from him (he never pulls away from a kiss), his cheeks have a soft rosy tone on them and he smiles widely.

okkotsu yuuta isn't that big into kissing, he prefers other types of intimacy, but he doesn't mind kissing you once in a while. whenever he feels like kissing you, he will hold your hand and press a kiss on your knuckles – that's his way of catching your attention. when your eyes are on him, yuuta gives you a soft shy smile and says: "can i kiss you?" (no matter how long you two have been in a relationship, he would always ask for your permission). when his lips touch yours, he is very gentle with you, his kisses always end up in giggles and you smiling widely.

fushiguro toji always kisses you deeply and roughly. his kisses are never simple, it somehow always turns into a makeout session. one of his hands holds your face or neck, while his other arm wraps around your body. when he pulls away, he groans lowly and smirks at you, the scar on the corner of his mouth glistening softy with the saliva of the kiss. his thumb caresses your cheekbone and he walks away, humming to himself and leaving you shaken with what happened.

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[avis-writeshq]

02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder. 

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice. 

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused. 

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.  

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you. 

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp. 

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye. 

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back. 

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag. 

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

*** 

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you. 

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat. 

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case. 

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning. 

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless. 

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted. 

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.” 

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince. 

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

*** 

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

*** 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine. 

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. 

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat. 

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone. 

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder. 

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

*** 

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table. 

“Hey.” 

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks. 

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her. 

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

*** 

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others? 

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone. 

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob. 

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter. 

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly. 

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics. 

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car. 

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house. 

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out. 

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after. 

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you. 

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this… 

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red. 

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind. 

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.  

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him. 

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

*** 

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch. 

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm. 

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery. 

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging. 

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair. 

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen. 

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it. 

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards. 

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!” 

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet. 

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses. 

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett? 

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.” 

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does. 

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

*** 

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead. 

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on. 

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard. 

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice. 

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave. 

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him. 

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys. 

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser. 

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know. 

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you. 

“Yes?” You need something. Anything. 

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door. 

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet. 

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

*** 

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology. 

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe. 

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.” 

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp. 

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy. 

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl. 

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind. 

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves. 

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers. 

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap. 

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly. 

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again. 

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened. 

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head. 

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.” 

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think. 

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

*** 

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore. 

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair. 

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here. 

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm. 

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit. 

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound. 

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

*** 

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason. 

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen. 

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you. 

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips. 

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen. 

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense. 

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

← previous part || next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

[malum-forev]

Second Trimester

Authors Note: Thank you guys soo much for the love you gave this story! Here's part 2!

Part 1: First Trimester

She knew something was up when Bucky insisted on picking her up and driving her to the compound. He rubbed two gloved hands together nervously as she locked up her apartment door. 

“You look even more anxious than when we made bean.” She chuckled. 

Bucky let out a staggered breath running a hand through his newly short hair. “I’m sorry, m’not trying to make you nervous it’s just- well, I don’t have any family left, biological family that is. And those dorks are kind of my chosen family. Think of this like meeting your in laws- except they’re not your in laws because we’re not dating, they’re Avengers and they kind of think you got pregnant on purpose.”

(Y/n) gulped, suddenly feeling like a knot of spikes parked in the middle of her esophagus. “So much for not trying to make me nervous.”

“Sorry… again.” Bucky shut his eyes for a second. “I’m not great at the talking part- I don’t usually talk this much. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Once he opened his eyes back up, Bucky was greeted with a smile that melted the tension. He didn’t know how she did it, one soft look from her and all his problems were suddenly gone. 

“I like your word vomit.” (Y/n) smiled and without thinking twice, she laced the fingers on her right hand with the ones on his left hand. “You don’t have to be nervous alone, you know. We’re in this together for the next eight months and at least my lifetime. I don’t know how long you’re planning on living, how about we round it up to the next seventy years.”

Bucky’s throat went dry and he tried to keep up with her pace walking. He looked down at their linked hands with widened eyes. It had been years since someone had touched his left hand, let alone do it on purpose and without flinching. 

Bucky learned the hard way that some women only wanted to be with him so he could use the vibranium on them, see what it was capable of doing. It all felt so wrong to him, using the arm that was given to him to kill for something other than that. He’d been ashamed of it for so long that he lived life around it. Covering it with a jacket and gloves even in the scorching New York summer. Using his right hand to open doors and help old ladies cross the street, wanting to bring the least amount of attention to his left limb. But in this moment, he didn’t feel discomfort or humiliation; quite the opposite, he felt a calming blooming sensation coming from their joined hands. Like the sun had risen after a long winter and it was casting its warming yellow glow on him. 

He straightened his spine and squeezed her hand, being careful to not put too much pressure but making it clear he welcomed the gesture.

An hour later, it was her who needed Bucky’s hand to hold. She was sitting at the end of a long conference table with people she never thought she’d meet staring her down. 

Captain America, who’d insisted she call him Steve, sat closest to her with his elbows resting on the table. (Y/n) could see the battle going on in his head by the different wrinkles that showed up on his expressive face. Going from excitement to worry in seconds. Next to him was Natasha, the redhead was surprisingly the most inviting of them all, giving (Y/n) a genuine smile. All the way in the back of the room stood the Falcon, Sam hadn’t said a single word and kept his eyes laser focused on her. Like he was waiting for something to give up the fact that (Y/n) was using Bucky. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned on the wall and narrowed his eyes. 

Finally, Bucky came back into the room with a glass of water which he placed in front of her. 

“Guys, I really wanted you to meet-“

Bucky’s quiet voice was replaced by Sam’s booming tone. “Have you even thought about how this is going to work out?!”

Groans came from both Steve and Nat.

“You promised to behave.” Steve shot daggers at Sam but he just rolled his eyes. 

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Natasha said. “Before her, we thought it was impossible for people with the super serum to have kids. Think of how this will change the world. They can’t just pass it up.”

“The world,” Sam laughed dryly. “Think about how this is going to change Buck! We can do this, this job, because we have no family except each other. He’ll start pulling his punches and then what? He’ll leave a mission because the kid got sick?”

“That’s enough Sam.” Steve said. “What about Clint? He’s got a family and he got the job done.”

“Have you two even talked about what this relationship is?” Sam waved his hand between Bucky and (Y/n). “Are you two exclusive?”

“Yes.” Said Bucky but at the same time, (Y/n) said: “No.”

Bucky’s neck snapped towards her. “You’re dating? With my kid in there?”

(Y/n)’s brows shot up. “You made it very clear we aren’t dating so yes, I’ve been on a couple of dates.”

“I don’t know how I feel about you dragging my kid on dates with random men.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and she mimicked his action.

“This baby is as much my kid as it is yours. And until I pop it out, bean’s going to be following me everywhere I go. That means, if I want to go to the movies or dinner and someone asks me out, I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

Sam’s arms shot up. “See, this is what I’m talking about. They have no idea what they’re doing!”

Natasha rubbed her temples. “How about this, the next time (Y/n) wants to go out on a date, Bucky takes her out. You’re going to start showing any second now and it’s gonna start getting harder and harder to get commitment-phobe guys to go on a date with the lady growing another human.”

(Y/n) nodded her head. “Sounds great to me.”

“Deal. I’ll take you out once a week.” Bucky uncrossed his arms.

“Twice.” (Y/n) shrugged. “I’m cute, a lot of guys wanting to take me out.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared at the thought of other men waiting behind her front door. “Twice, but I get to choose the place at least once.”

“You get to choose the place but I get flowers, once a week.” (Y/n) rested both elbows on the table and stared at Bucky. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Fine, you’ll get the flowers but I’ll get three vetoes for any of the places you choose.”

(Y/n) brought her right hand closer to him, wanting to shake on the deal before he could back out. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Bucky said with a devious smile. “You need to work on your negotiation skills, dollface. I was already planning on getting you flowers for every date.” 

“I would have done the deal for one date a week.” (Y/n) smiled.

---

Bucky knocked three times on her door, exhausted from the night before. He’d been to Romania on a mission and gotten in at around 3 am, gotten up at 8 am and trained the day through. He leaned his head on the door and waited for (Y/n) to open the door. 

It had been three weeks since they’d reached the date agreement and he’d only had to cancel once. Bucky was quite proud of that, for someone who’s life had been upside down he was keeping his promise and developing some sort of routine. 

Today was his choice of date and in true Bucky fashion, he wanted to stay in. He’d picked up Chinese takeout and wanted to watch another of the thousands of classic movies he’d missed over the decades. 

Bucky heard her soft footsteps leading to the door and the lock turning.

“They didn’t have the pork dumplings so I got you shrimp. And since shrimp don’t have a high mercury level, we’re okay to eat it- you know, since doc sai-“

Bucky’s rambling was cut short the second his eyes locked on her body. His ocean blue eyes widened and his jaw went slack. (Y/n) was wearing a white tank top that clung to her body, it had been only a couple of days since they’d seen each other but Bucky felt like it had been a lifetime. His eyes locked on her chest for a couple of seconds, he couldn’t miss the sight of her bigger breasts, but what really caught his eye was the small bump that sticked out. 

“Y-you’re pregnant.” Bucky stuttered.

(Y/n) let out a loud laugh as she lead him into her apartment. “I thought you got the memo.” Taking the brown paper bag from his hands.

Bucky shook his head, trying to rearrange his thoughts but all that bubbled around in his brain was the image of her with her hands rubbing the small bump.

“I-I mean. You look pregnant.” Bucky’s eyes shone like the night’s sky, his hands itched to get closer to her, closer to the baby.

(Y/n) took her place on the couch, stretching out her hand to him. Bucky walked slowly, afraid of- he didn’t know what he was afraid of but there was a deep feeling settling in his stomach. When Bucky got closer, he absentmindedly brought forward his left hand before ripping it back and stretching out his right one. 

“It’s okay.” (Y/n) whispered, a sweet smile playing on her lips. “Bean loves every part of you.”

Bucky shook his head quickly, extending his right hand closer to her. 

(Y/n) sat up, taking both of Bucky’s hands in hers and lightly pulling him down until he was kneeling in between her legs. With a soft touch, she brought his hands to her protruding belly, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. 

“Bean will never be afraid of you.” (Y/n) whispered, bringing one of her hands to the back of his neck, soothing Bucky with her touch.

His eyes filled with burning tears, begging to be let out. Years of being feared, years of being used, it all didn’t matter because it brought him to this exact moment. 

No words were spoken because he couldn’t think of words that expressed his feelings. Gratitude, happiness, peace. Instead of saying anything, he unlocked a piece of himself to her. That was the only thing he could do. So, for the next hour they sat in silence, tears falling freely from his eyes as he rubbed her belly softly. Bucky hummed tunes from the 40’s until (Y/n) fell asleep, her back pressed to his chest.

- -

It had been a long day at the compound’s med bay. (Y/n) had been poked and prodded for the better part of two hours and Bucky had been by her side the entire time. He knew better than anyone that being in that situation alone was horrible, a feeling he wouldn’t want anyone to experience let alone the woman carrying his child. 

“Are we almost done here?” Bucky said, his words rough and clipped. The doctors around the two of them scattered and nodded, afraid of him. But, (Y/n)? She just laughed.

“They’re just doing their job Buck.” She smiled. “Bean is an incredible scientific accomplishment that they just want to understand. Plus, I would much rather get my blood drawn and have a couple of ultrasounds than what I get done at the OBGYN.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed at the thought of her being even slightly uncomfortable.

“I’ve lost count of the people who’ve shoved their hands up to my cervix.” She laughed, getting up from the chair. 

Bucky rubbed tiny circles next to her belly button, loving the way her skin felt in his hands, as they walked out of the med bay.

“Isn’t that Sam?” (Y/n) asked, looking left at the man who’d barely talked to them since they’d decided to have the baby. 

“Yeah but I don’t think we should call him ove-“

(Y/n) interrupted him by yelling out Sam’s name and calling him over. 

Bucky saw the annoyed state his friend was in the second he walked towards them. 

“Hey.” Sam gave them a tight smile. 

“I know you don’t trust me,” (Y/n) said. “but just do this time.”

Sam’s eyes furrowed with confusion and it just deepened the second (Y/n) took his hand and brought it to her stomach. What was first hesitation, turned into surprise.

“Is- is that?” Sam asked feeling movement inside her belly. 

“That’s bean.” Bucky’s smile took over his face. 

“It’s moving.” Sam whispered, taking his other hand and bringing it to her stomach too. 

“I know you’re not totally on board with this,” Bucky said. “but you need to trust us. This is the right decision.”

Sam’s wide eyes bounced between the two of them. “I can’t concentrate on anything else but this baby trying to kick its way out of (Y/n)’s stomach. Bean’s going to have my fighting style.”

Both Bucky and (Y/n) smiled at each other, happy that Sam had finally called their baby Bean. 

Third Trimester

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour @hallecarey1 @aorifukuzawa @sammyssm @alana4610. @mrsjobarnes

[changisworld]

“Just don’t tell her”

Stepdad!Binnie x reader

Word count:6,809

Summary: You don’t get along with your mom since her & your fathers divorce since she cheated on him but luckily you got an easy escape when college rolled around. It’s now summer break & you head home, mostly to gather a few more of your things but also to use the pool in your childhood home’s backyard but you got more than you bargained for when you seen your moms new, younger boyfriend.

MDNI, 18+ only, smut warnings below the cut.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS; Age gap (27 & 20), infidelity, bulge kink, size kink, manhandling, slightly public groping, praise, oral (69),ball sucking, nipple play, spit, cumming on ass, marking, fingering, sweet binnie, soft sex tbh, multiple orgasms,binnie is TTTHIIICCKKK, fluffy/ cliffhanger ending??

You drop the suitcase in front of your childhood home's front door & sigh as you stretch, feeling 30lbs lighter since you're no longer lugging around half your wardrobe. You grumble randomly to yourself as you dig through your handbag & get your key out of the zip up pocket & unlocking the door. You swing the heavy door open & you're immediately welcomed by the same smell you've always remembered. You push your suitcase into the main hallway & you dump it on the floor before shutting the door, letting out a sigh of relief. You step over it as you kick off your shoes as you scurry to the kitchen almost instantly to get a drink, feeling as dry as sand from the heat & the absolute workout you just did.

You gulp down a glass of water & you hiccup as you finish it. You take a look around the kitchen, looking at the slight differences since last time you were here. You admire the room as you slowly walk around it, looking at some new pictures that you noticed your mom has put up. You touch the frames as you walk pas them, most of them being photos of you but one catches your eye.. A guy.. with his arm around your mom?? Your eyebrows frown as you take it off the wall, getting a better look at it. "Mom? Where the hell are you?" You shout across the house, waving the photo frame in your hand. You hear the patio doors open behind you & you flip around, already word vomiting. "Are you serious? who the fu" You cut yourself off as you see that the person who has just opened the glass door isn't your mom, but instead, the guy in the picture.

"Ah, your mom is at some sort of meeting right now, she won't be back till later, guessing you're her daughter?" The guy says, seeming un-phased, resting his muscular arm on the doorframe in just his swimming trunks, having a slight smell of sunscreen on his body which you can't help but admire a bit. "Eh yeah? not to be rude or anything but who the hell are you n why are you on the walls n at my pool?" you ask, eyes moving back to the picture as you hold it out for him to see, eyebrows raised. "Ooooh, I'm Changbin, your moms new boyfriend, nice to mee'cha" he gives you a cute smile which would make you melt if he hadn't just said the words he said. You stumble over yourself for a few seconds, trying to understand what he just said to you. 'Him? Your moms boyfriend? How the hell did she manage that? How old is this guy?' are all things that almost slip from your lips. "Boyfriend? How old even are you? You look my age?" You question him, all the sass in your voice now gone, confusion being all that's now left. He laughs at the look on your face as he walks over to you & gently takes the photoframe out of your hands before walking to where you took it off the wall & placing it back in its original place. "That's a compliment i won't forget seeing since you're.. what, twenty or something? I'm twenty seven. The age gap is a bit crazy since your mom is fifty one soon but we just clicked. You home for summer vacation or something? She didn't mention you were coming home." He asks, still having a warm smile on his face. You just stare at him for a moment, not even knowing if you should bother asking him anymore questions. “y-yeah.. I’m here for two weeks, I’ll just eh, leave you to whatever it was you were doing n take my stuff upstairs.” you state, your tone of voice for some reason not sounding convincing despite it being the truth. Changbin let’s out a small scoff before walking past you into the main entrance. “Don’t be stupid, two weeks of stuff is heavy, i’ll take it for you.” He shouts from the other room. You follow him out, beginning to protest, insisting you can do it yourself but he has already picked up the suitcase you could barley drag into the house with one arm before carrying it up the stairs. He turns around & urges his head up the stairs, hinting for you to come with him. You just smile & follow him, giving a small sigh as you do so. He keeps walking, suitcase in hand & you swear you see him looking at the collar of your shirt.. looking at your tits..? you brush the thought away, thinking you were being stupid but you definitely keep it in mind.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You open your bedroom door to save Changbin the harmless struggle of doing it himself & he thanks you before wasting no time & walking into your room as if it’s his own. “Cute room, like it.” He states as he puts your suitcase down & looks around. You give him a slight smile before looking around the room yourself, partly because you’ve not been there in a long while but also partly because the man in front of you is still only wearing swimming trunks & you don’t wanna be admiring someone you shouldn’t.. or should you..? “Thanks, mom wouldn’t let me redecorate it since i was leaving a few months later but it’s not too bad, thank you for helping me with my suitcase, i woulda been still on the third step trying to get it here.” you try to joke, deciding to be a bit more friendly to the hot guy who just helped you. “Sorry if this is rude to ask but do you like.. even know how much of a bitch my mom is..? She’s no doubt just putting a mask on for you, between me n you, go through her phone n check she’s not cheating on you too.” you tell him, not keeping eye contact & picking up random things on your shelves & drawers to try feel less tension in the room. The man behind you giggles & you can’t help but turn around, shocked by his reaction. ‘he’s definitely gonna snitch’ pops into your head instantly as you just stare at him, still holding the mini fake cactus plant in your hand. "She was surprisingly open about what she did to your dad but thanks for telling me anyways. Why snitch so openly? You don't get along with her or something?" He questions, voice raising at the end. "She always said you both get along quite well." You scoff at this. "Clearly not open about everything then. We don't get along whatsoever. Only even came back here since it's hot n we have a pool here." He hums in response, both of you sitting in a kinda uncomfortable silence. You let out another sigh before turning away from him, breaking the eye contact you were both holding. Changbin takes a breath in "Speaking of pools i'ma go back outside, i'm stinking your room out with sunscreen. You can come by n sit with me if you feel like it! Nice shorts by the way, You suit denim." He flashes you another smile before leaving your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You take in the compliment before walking to where you can see your reflection & looking at the shorts, blushing a tiny bit at the compliment.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You unpack your suitcase & make yourself feel as at home as you can despite the circumstances. You update your friend, Karina that you made it back home somehow in one piece & you obviously can't help but tell her about the hottest man you've ever seen now living with your mom.

K: Are you serious?? OMG u needa get with him y/n! opportunites

You: Don't be stupid rina, he's like 28?? he's my moms bf lol

K:So? u can just get away with it hehe, fuck him n then come back to college, just keep it secret! he complimented ur shorts, he wanttssss uuuuu

You: OKAY ur maybe right, lets just see hehehe

K:If u dont do it u will regret it, the cow cheated on ur dad anyway, perfect revenge

You chuckle before turning your phone off but don't have much time to think or do anything before you hear your moms car pulling into the driveway. You let out a displeased grunt as you hear the front door open.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You end up eating dinner with your mom & Changbin & nothing eventful ends up happening surprisingly. Your mom makes a few backhanded comments but you bite your tongue for the sake of Changbin, you would just feel embarrassed letting him watch you both argue especially since this is your first time meeting him. Changbin takes the dishes back to the kitchen & you help him since your mom decided that a few phone calls was worth it more than the five minutes it would have taken her.

"Thanking for helping y/n, so respectful for your age." He says as you are drying the dishes as he washes them, turning his head towards you for a split second to smile again. "You have a permanent smile on your face, I'm convinced. Is she always like this with you?" "pretty much, I understand her work is important though so It's understandable. I get a bit lonely during the day since I can work from home but It'll pass hopefully. Got you to keep me company now though for a little while, hmm?" He says, letting out a small sigh, voice raising a bit at the end, trying to hide his disappointment but also joking with you at the same time despite you both wanting it to be not much of a joke secretly. "Yeah I'll keep ya company, my mom just doesn't respect others time. Don't know how you deal with it." You reply as you finish drying the dishes & placing them in the cupboards. You both just chuckle as he dries his hands. "Well I'ma go n watch a movie, you should get dressed for bed It's late n you're still wearing denim y/nnie." He scoots past you & as he does he puts his hands on your waist & you can't help but tense up a bit. You nod & you smile at each other as he leaves. You take in a deep breath as soon as you are alone, trying not to let your skeleton jump out of your skin.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You get back to your bedroom & start instantly digging through your drawers trying to find something to wear, trying to convince yourself that you're wanting to wear the shortest sleep shorts you can possibly find simply because of the heat & not because of the man downstairs. You end up wearing some grey flowy shorts & a matching grey vest top. You take a picture & send it to Karina before spam texting her.

You: RINA OMFG HE TOUCHED MY WAIST I SWEAR BDFHVVH

You:N THEN SAID IM RESPECTFUL N EVERYTHING i swear is it bad to be in love with my moms bf? girl u need to see him hes so toned n big istg

You:he watching film probs with my mom but ima go n sit with him heheh ill update later

You decide to put your phone on charge & leave it there as you take one last look in the mirror before opening your door & basically throwing yourself down the stairs before you can talk yourself out of it.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You walk into the livingroom & see your mom & her boyfriend sitting together watching a random thing they found on netflix, his arm that you so desperately wanna be thrown around by, wrapped around your moms shoulder, stroking her hair, both under a blanket. You internally vomit before hopping onto the couch on the other side of Changbin, not saying anything. Your mom readjusts the blanket so you can also get under & you begin watching along with them.

Thirty minutes or so into the movie your mom has already fallen asleep & it's just you & changbin watching. You decide to be bold & lean sideways, your head now resting against his shoulder. Your heart is beating out of your chest & you swallow, too loud for your liking. "You shy hm? what of? Sit up for a second." He whispers to you & your cheeks instantly go red as you listen to him without saying another word. You tense up as he moves his arm & wraps it around the bottom of your waist & slightly pulling you towards him, initiating for you to put your head back where it was, which you do. You both sit in a silence, not so comfortable though since you don't think you've ever actually been this nervous before yet the person next to you seems to be completely un-phased.

You both stay like this for the rest of the movie, not really saying anything other than random small jokes & comments about what you're both watching, during this time you end up cuddling into him more subconsciously & your fingers end up lightly scratching over his abs on top of his shirt, trying to play it off while still trying to feel them at the same time.

The movie finishes & your mom wakes up & drags herself to bed, not even realising the position you & her boyfriend were in as you spring up uncomfortably as she flinches awake & ends up leaving the wine glasses & bottle the two of them were drinking from on the floor. Changbin takes her to their shared bedroom as you grumble about the crumbs on the couch & the smell of the wine as you take them to the kitchen as you take a few swigs out of the practically empty wine bottle, finishing it off before putting it on the counter. As you do this, you hear footsteps come into the room, beginning to recognise the sound of it. You turn around & unsurprisingly but happy at who it is in front of you, changbin is in front of you, curly hair on show & now in a loose white tank top & some baggy black shorts & you need to make a genuine effort to not drool all over yourself. "Look at us, matchy matchy." you tease as you touch his strap of his top, you both let out a small chuckle. "Yup, got the inspo from you, think you wore it better than me though. You cold, hmm? Shoulda took the blanket with you." He teases back, making you look down & you see that your nipples are poking through your shirt, extremely noticeable. Your cheeks go cherry coloured as you look back at him. "Why you staring hm? Mom wouldn't be happy." He scoffs, hand reaching out to play with the ends of your hair, twirling it in his fingers, the silence a lot more comfortable than earlier despite the contact being a lot more intimate. "Hey! Don't blame me, who wouldn't look hmm? so p- don't act as if you didn't do it on purpose." he says, voice low & deep. "what were you gonna sayyy? What if I wanted you to see? Never said this before but your arms are so big, holy shit." you smirk as you prodd at his left arm, softly grabbing & touching at it which gives him goosebumps. "Was just g'na call em perky is all. Imagine your mom heard you talking to her boyfriend like this." You roll your eyes, trying to not to show the affect he has on your words. "Imagine my mom hearing you talking to her daughter like this.. Afraid you chosen the wrong one hmm? Incase you somehow haven't caught on, I personally, would do anything to make her miserable." You have no idea where the confidence has came from but you don't second guess what you're saying. Your fingers leave his arm as you let your fingers trail up past his jaw & up to his hair, playing with it, at the same time Changbin pulls you in closer by the waist, sharing breath. "Never knew I could only make one choice.. Could correct myself one day but what would you offer me, y/n?" he says to you, a different look in his eyes than what was there earlier in the day. "Would need to just find out now, wouldn't you?" You snap back, leaning in just enough to wiggle your nose against his, not breaking eye contact. As you do this you hear footsteps upstairs & the bathroom door opening & closing which makes you both semi permanently snap out of it. He sighs before looking at the direction of the door then turning back to you, hands not moving. "We can finish this conversation later mkay? Wanna gimme a teaser though before I need to go?" he whispers to you & before you can stop yourself, you lean in & kiss him. It only lasts a few seconds but you know you can both feel some sort of weird connection between you both & you can't help but think & admire how soft his lips are, like mini cushions against your own. You both break away at the same time & he playfully ruffles your hair, messing it up before stepping away from you. "Goodnight, y/n." He says nonchalantly despite his cheeks & ears blushing like crazy before leaving the room, leaving you standing there, taking in what just hapened.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You wake up the next day practically jumping out of bed, not being tired at all despite ringing Karina non stop until she woke up just so you could see her reaction to what you had just done. You look out your window & almost begin screaming at the fact your moms at work, her car not being in the driveway. 'literally feel like a fourteen year old girl what the hell am i doing' you can't help but think to yourself as you brush your teeth. You open the window & stick your hand out & test the temperature. You put on a pink bikini & put some sunscreen on before getting a drink & making your way out to the pool. You lay down & put some headphones on before shutting your eyes to soak in the sun.

You don't even know how long you've been sitting there when you hear the chair next to you being pulled out over the noise of your music. You take off your sunglasses & turn your head & to no surprise Changbin is lying on the chair next to you, resting his head on his arms as he stretches himself out. "You not meant to be working or something?" You question him while shutting your eyes again. "Swear I told you I worked from home? I have an hour break so why not sit in the sun. Could you do me a favour n but sunscreen on my back for me, pretty pleaase." He asks you as he reaches & takes your wrist, pulling it playfully as he already rolls himself over. You don't say anything but sigh as you sit up & get off the chair you're sitting on & grab the sunscreen from the space between you both & straddle the back part of his thighs as you squirt some directly onto his back, making him hiss & yell playfully.

You begin to massage it into his back, not missing the chance to look at the insane amount of muscles there. You finish rubbing it in but don't stop your motions, now practically massaging him since you have the chance to do so. You do this for a few minutes, Changbin letting out small sighs as you do so. You karate chop his back a few times which makes him yelp playfully. "Cmon, since I did it for you you can return the favour." Changbin sighs & mumbles to himself as you plop yourself back down on where you were sitting earlier, moving your hair out of the way to give him access. He follows quick behind & positions himself so your back is facing his chest as his legs wrap around the sides of you.

He decides to spare you the mini torture you put him through & puts the sunscreen on his hands & rubbing it slightly to warm it up before massaging it into your back. You soak in the sun on your face at the same time as you soak in his touch, knowing which one you like more & it stays like this for a few minutes, Changbin quietly singing a random song behind you which makes you 'shush' him which makes him tut. You feel him going over your bikini strap that's tied behind your back multiple times before he opens his mouth. "Your strap is in my way & it's annoying me, can IIIII untie it?" He questions, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. "If you want to get in my pants just say so, jeez. Fine." You grumble as he tuts & rolls his eyes but enthusiastically pulls on the bottom parts of the bow tying it together, letting it come undone. You hold onto your tits so the fabric so you're still covered. He keeps massaging you for a few minutes longer than needed before lying backwards, taking your original place. "Hey! You took my place, move!" you yell, hitting his leg lightly. "No! I'm comfy here now, just lay here because I'm not movin." he snaps back. You grumble & whinge as you throw yourself backwards, still holding your bikini to your chest, just to annoy him.

You forgot you even had your headphones on your head until he decides to nab them off your head. You protest instantly & sit up to steal them back but in the process, accidentally let go of the bikini shirt & you instantly grab it back to your chest but it goes noticed by you both. "n you said I wanted to get into your pants yet you're the one doing shit like this, hmm?" he teases before chucking your headphones to the side as he pulls you back to him, back against chest. "Why are your cheeks the same colour as your lack of top? Don't be so shy!" he says as he pinches your cheeks playfully which makes you want to explode deep down. "Pinks my favourite colour, yours?" he asks another question, trying to soothe you a bit if you are feeling embarrassed as his fingers now trail over your collarbones. "Don't have one, I like blue n pink though, green too." You respond, hands grazing over his, pretty much just hoping no wind quite literally blows your top away.

You both end up talking about everything & anything, ranging from college, work, childhood pets & least favourite foods. During this time you're pretty much holding his hands as you have almost accidentally guided his hands so his fingers are now on top of your boobs, over the fabric as he lightly fondles them. "Your hands are so cold despite it being so hot, whys that." you ask, trying to wrap your own around his hands as you speak. "Hands get a bit cold when I'm nervous, no idea why. Always been like that." he murmurs back, only half listening. You think for a moment before lightly pulling his hands so now they are touching your tits, completely skin to skin. You get goosebumps not just from the coldness of his hands touching your nipples but also from nerves. Changbins breath hitches in his throat but tries to play it off by gently massaging them. "You're so bold for someone who's doing this with someone who could basically be your stepdad." "Ew, don't say it like that, creeps me out. You're closer to my age than my moms by a landslide." You both let out a chuckle as you get more comfortable laying against his broad chest as he fondles your nipples & lightly squeezes your boobs, making you need to hold back light moans. He pinches your nipples which makes you gasp & you subconsciously twitch, before sitting up. "Don't do that unless you plan on finishing the job! You don't know what that does to a girl, jeez! I'm going inside before i burn through the sunblock. You can take my empty cup inside since you're such a gem." you loosely tie your top back together as you stretch your arms out, slightly pushing your ass out just as a tease. "Yah! Who do you think you are? I do know what happens, just wanted.. to experiment okay?! & who said i wasn't coming." He obviously still picks up your empty cup before toddling behind you as your hips sway as you walk inside, his hands wrapping themselves around them.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You have no idea how it happened but you both end up in your bedroom, your back against your mattress as you're both making out. Your hands are ruffled in his curly hair as his thigh is in between your two legs, which you obviously can't help but grind against but the friction isn't completely all there due to the bikini bottoms. Changbin realises this from your small huffy groans & his fingers trail down to them, playing with the hem. "Can I?" he whispers to you after breaking the kiss, noses basically touching. You nod & he does just that. You chase ever so slightly after his lips again & you poke your tongue over his lips which he gladly accepts. As you are both swapping a bit of spit, his fingers resume what they were doing & he traces over your folds which makes you shudder. "You sure you wanna do this? It's a bit crazy, don't feel pressured." he assures you as he looks into your eyes, full of lust. "I do want it, pinky swear. My mom deserves it, just don't tell her." you reply, fingers still playing with his poodle hair as your other hand rests over his bulge, trying to show your sincerity, which works. He gives you his cute little smirk. He kisses the tip of your nose before he flips you both over, you now straddling him. He discards the rest of your top as he takes your nipple into his mouth as you stretch downwards so you can push his swimming trunks down just enough to free his cock. You can't see it due to his lips suctioned around your tit restricting you but it only takes a few seconds before he effortlessly manoeuvres you so your cunt is hovering above his face.

You let out a small squeal as he pulls your hips down, making you sit on his face. He wastes absolutely no time as his tongue begins to lick every crevice from top to bottom, using his teeth just the right amount. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his hands begin grabbing at your ass, kneading it in his hands which you know will bruise you slightly later on. You can't help but grind against his tongue as he is suckling on your small button & you throw yourself forward so you are now face to face with his cock & you gasp, not just from what the man below you is giving you but because this man is thick. You now see why your mom is obsessed with this man. You take a hold of his cock & your fingers barely even connect around the base as you let a glob of spit hit directly on the tip which makes his hips jolt. Your eyes scrunch over as his tongue slithers its way inside you, making your legs tremble on each side of his head. You jerk him off as you are moaning above him, thrusting your hips back & forth, your juices coating his face along with his own spit as you use your own spit as lube.

You finally build up enough courage to begin kitten licking the tip & then after watching him try chase your tongue, you put the tip in your mouth. You slowly open your mouth up as you take more of his cock in our mouth, surprised it even fit at all. You use the tongue to the best of your ability, drool now getting caught in hi pubes. You feel his tongue leave your hole but you don't have a millisecond to complain before two fingers take its place. You can't stop letting out whines at the pleasure as your shaky hand comes & fingers graze over his balls. He lets out a louder whine than what you've heard from him make this whole time. At the same time, your orgasm begins approaching so you struggle but manage to pop yourself off his cock. "g--gna cum, d-don't stop" you whine & he lets out a deep growl noise as he keeps feasting & drinking away at you as if he was never gonna taste anything ever again. Your fingers don't stop playing with his balls as your orgasm washes over you, your legs shaking as your arms give out, flopping down as much as you possibly can while Changbins big arms are keeping you up by your ass cheeks as he keeps your pussy grounded.

He breaks his lips away from your cunt & as you are getting your breath back & takes this time to now massage your ass, giving it some relief after the bear grip he has had on it for so long. You come back down to earth & remember he hasn't cum just like what he let you do.. & you don't like this. "yyou're so big for no r-reason, I swear." you say to him as you pick up his cock again, jerking it slowly, admiring how shiny it is because of your spit & precum alone. "too big for you? You can take it bunny, just suckle on my balls if your throat is sore, mkay y/nnie?" You instantly blush at the small nickname & you would be stupid to turn down the offer. "who woulda ever thought you are into that." you comment & he shakes his legs as he starts whining, putting his hand into your hair to As he grazes his fingers on the inside of your thighs & playing with your flaps lightly, taking into account about overstimulation while helping keep you grounded, you take his balls into your mouth. you suck lightly as your fingers also play with them, making sure to coat it in spit as your tongue swirls over them.

He instantly lets our a hiss as he sucks his breath in through his teeth, trying as hard as he can to not squirm around too much. You allow spit to drip down from past your lips as you slobber all over them, still slowly jerking him in your other hand, his higher pitched noises making you turned on even more than you already are, leaking even more juices onto his fingers. You switch over onto the other side before suckling on the rest of his balls & you're honestly surprised the neighbours haven't already came knocking telling you to both shut up by how loud he's being, making your stomach do flips as his fingers stay wrapped in his fingers.

All of a sudden you are pulled off of his balls completely, lips disconnecting with a 'pop' noise as the suction breaks. You are tossed onto your back & you spread your legs instantly, almost vibrating with excitement. You look into his eyes as his own are glued onto your cunt, shining with your juices as he pumps his cock slowly, completely covered in your spit, heavy breathing & his face red, still got your juices on it. He slots it on your pussy & thrusts upwards slightly, making you twitch & bite back a small moan as it catches on your puffy clit. "Stop playing, put it in, dyin' for it, pretty please." you whine out, voice more blown out than you wanted it to be. Changbin smirks as he lines himself up to your hole. "You sure you wanna do it bunny? It'll be a big stretch, we can stop now & pretend it never happened if you're having second thoughts." he replies, the hand not touching his third leg caressing your thigh, giving you a small smile. "Does it look like I'm sure? Please, just wanna fe-" you're cut off as he begins to push himself inside slowly as you suck in a deep breath, feeling as if you're being quite literally ripped open but in the most delicious way possible. He finally buries himself to the hilt & lets out a groan, throwing his head back. You can't help but clench multiple times & he takes this time to lean forward & nuzzle his face in your neck, licking & nibbling at it, not moving in order to let you adjust.

You tilt your head so you can kiss the side of his head as your fingers scratch lightly on his arms, leaving marks that none of you could care less about at this moment. "'m ready, please move, please." you whimper out, face flushed red. He hums before doing an experimental thrust, knocking the air out of both of you. He stands upright before holding onto your thighs & putting your legs on his shoulders before slowly picking up the pace.

You let out a moan that bounces off the walls & they don't stop coming. 'shit' 'binnie' 'fuck' 'so good' & 'uhs' splutter out of both of your mouths every three seconds. "s-so tight, can lit-literally see it" He whines out as he takes your hand & guides it to your lower belly & your eyes widen as you feel his cock poking through your lower stomach. You both look down at the sight in front of you & you wrap your hand around his as it's holding it down against your belly. "so good for me, aren'cha, taking it s-so well, creaming my cock hunny." he groans to you, making eye contact with one another. "so-so deep, so f-f-full." you basically scream back, your eyes watering from the pleasure, hair sticking to the sides of your face.

Your legs begin to shake & he pulls out & you begin to protest but as your tongue moves to begin yelling at him, he tosses you over so you're on your stomach before pulling on your hips so your face down & ass is up. He holds onto your hips as he sinks himself back into your creaming hole & continues his pace, making your mind numb. "Need you to hold out to cum, mkay? can c-cum together." you can't help but blush at what he's saying to you as he is holding you in place, fondling your ass with one hand as the other is on your hips, eyes glued to his cock sinking into you. He hits a way deeper spot in this position & you shriek before jolting yourself forward but it's short lived before he has pulled you back by the hips, leaving bruises by how much he is gripping onto you. "Don't run, you can take it, so good for me, hmm?so wet for me," He questions as he leans forward so his chest is resting on your back, his hips not slowing. "g-gna cum Changbin, so d-deep, f-f-fuck." your voice grainy as Changbin moves your hair from the side of your neck to begin kissing it again, squelching & smacking noises filling out the room & no doubt the rest of the house too. "Cum baby, so beautiful, aren'cha." he groans back to you quietly, voice shaky & hair stuck to his forehead.

It bubbles up so quickly you don't even have time to tell him before you're spasming underneath him, legs giving out & arousal squirting out of you & clenching so hard he pulls himself out to finish himself off. You're still riding out the rest of your orgasm & he pumps himself in his hand at a good pace & a few seconds later, his own release spurts out & resting onto the skin of your ass & lower back. You can hear his orgasm before you can feel it landing on you, his groans making you clench almost as much as you just were.

You both catch your breath for a few seconds before he leans over you again & pushes your head lightly so you're facing him, cheek smushed against the duvet. He gives you a peck on your lips & then nose & smiles at you, taking deep, quick breaths , you doing the same. "So pretty, even with your cherry cheeks, gimme a minute to clean you up." He whispers to you before standing up & grabbing a random item of clothing off your floor before walking to the bathroom & wetting it with warm water before returning & cleaning it off of you.

He helps you rest your head on the pillows as he brings you a bottle of water before coming to lie next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest. "S-swear you had work to do? It's been more than one hour, dummy." he chuckles as he plays with a strand of your hair. "Was more worth it though, wouldn't you say?" you hum in response. He readjusts himself & as he does this, he gasps a little bit. "Y/n i've eh, left a hickey on accident." You look at him for a second to see if he is joking but when it's clear he's not, you sigh before pulling him back onto you. "Nothing concealer can't fix. Might just let my mom see just to subtly hint." He tsks to you & rolls his eyes playfully. "That's a conversation for a way later date. On a negative though, I do actually need to go back to work n your mom is actually home soon so I'ma leave you here hunny mkay? I'll come n see you later, pretty pretty." He gives you one more kiss before you move so he can get up & he takes your swimwear out of the room with him, both of you still naked.

"We are gonna talk more about this later alright? There's no way we can go back to normal after this!" you shout as he is walking down the corridor & he shouts back: "Obviously not only friends!I now know I did choose the wrong one so we can fix it eventually!" You can't help but let a smile spread on your face slightly. You let your body calm down for a moment & then grab a towel & your phone before heading towards the shower, the spot between your legs raw & achey. Just before you get into the shower you obviously need to pull your phone out & text your friend what the hell just happened.

You: Can't promise I won't be sucking it up & driving all the way to & from college every single day from now on.

[writemekpop]

Birthday Blues (Part 1) | Na Jaemin

Summary: When Jaemin thinks you’ve forgotten his birthday, you have the biggest argument you've ever had.

Genre: Boyfriend!Jaemin, angst

Word Count: 1k

Jaemin was furious. It was his birthday today, and you, his girlfriend of three years, had forgotten about it.

When he woke up this morning, he could barely contain his excitement. He was expecting to see you in something red and lacey, get breakfast in bed, and have some delicious morning loving.

But to his disappointment, he woke up to you, moody, sweaty, and hurling into the bin. You were hungover from your girls’ night out the previous evening.

Soon, it was 7PM, and you still hadn’t mentioned Jaemin’s birthday.

“Could we stop by Yuta’s bar before we go home?” You asked. “They’re having a special offer. Five cocktails for five pounds! I heard they make your vomit look all rainbow-y.”

Jaemin scoffed. “That sounds just fantastic. But two nights in a row? Are you sure this drinking thing isn’t becoming a problem? Plus…” He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. “Isn’t there something else you’d rather be doing… especially today?”

“What’s so special about today?” you said, shaking your head. “Come on, it’s only a mile away. Do you have money for an Uber? I left my wallet at home.”

“You’re so freaking forgetful,” Jaemin snapped.

You raised your hands in surrender. “Alright, jeez! It’s just a wallet.”

“It’s not just that! What about my cat? You forgot to feed Sushi all week while I was in Morocco. She nearly starved to death! Or what about when you forgot where you parked my BMW, and I had to miss Jeno’s leaving party to search for it! And what about my bir-“

Jaemin stopped mid-sentence when he realised that you weren’t listening to him. You were busy typing away on your iPhone.

Jaemin yanked the phone out of your manicured fingers and threw it onto the floor. The screen cracked.

You gasped. Putting your smashed phone into your pocket, you turned to your boyfriend.

“Can we just… go inside?” You pointed at the bar. “I promise, everything will be-“

“Oh my god,” Jaemin said, cutting you off. “Why are you so desperate to go inside? If you really want to see your friends so much then, let’s go.”

Jaemin grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you through the door.

The inside of the bar was pitch black.

“Would you look at that?” Jaemin spat. “It’s empty. Did you forget what time you were supposed to meet up? God, why are you so dumb?”

“Jaem-“ You waved frantically at him, but he wouldn’t stop.

“You’re so disorganised… and- you’re lazy! It’s my birthday and all you’ve done is whine about your own stupid life. Why do you have to be so fucking selfish? We are done, you… you bitch!”

You and Jaemin stared at each other in stony silence. Jaemin was panting, and you were fighting back tears.

Just then, the lights flickered on.

“S-surprise,” came a bunch of unsure voices.

Jaemin turned around to see the shocked and disapproving faces of everyone he loved staring back at him.

A live band in the corner started to play ‘Happy Birthday’, but someone told them to shut up.

The room was filled with fifty of his friends, parents, cousins, colleagues… Haechan was standing in the middle of the crowd, holding a huge three-tier chocolate cake. A big banner saying Happy Birthday, Jaemin hung from the wall.

Jaemin turned to you. “You… did all this?”

Your face was wet with tears. You pushed past Jaemin and ran out of the door.

“Wait!” Jaemin shouted, but it was too late.

“Way to go, buddy,” Renjun said, slapping him a little too hard on his back. “It’s called a surprise party… ever heard of it? Y/n spent weeks organising it.”

Jaemin tugged a hand through his hair, throat dry. “I’ve really messed things up, haven’t I?”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “Welcome back to Singles Night, bud. We missed you.”

---

Jaemin ran all the way home. When he saw you in the bedroom, his heart surged. You hadn’t left!

You were facing away, standing by the open wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” Jaemin asked, frowning.

You spun around at the sound of his voice. “Packing. You said it yourself, J, we’re done.”

Jaemin ran towards you and pulled the bag from your hands. “I didn’t mean any of that! I was just… angry. I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You shook your head, taking the bag back. “Jaemin… you called me a bitch. Do you not respect me at all? How can you expect me to stay with you after that?”

Jaemin crumpled onto the bed, tears threatening to spill. He hugged his knees tight. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

You sat beside him on the bed, shoulders drooping.

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered. “You deserve someone… better.”

“No!” Jaemin shook his head. “Please don’t leave me.” He leant his head against your shoulder, crying.

You sat in silence for a moment. Then you sucked in a deep breath and stood up.

“I have to,” you said. “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

You walked out of the room. A few moments later, Jaemin heard the thud of the front door.

Jaemin stood up. He looked at the picture frame on the bedside table, it was of you and him, laughing whilst sharing an ice cream.

He picked it up and threw it against the wall, screaming. The glass shattered.

He ran into the living room, head spinning. That’s when he saw it.

There was a small box on the coffee table, wrapped with a purple bow, and a message that said ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAEMIN’. He opened the box, fingers trembling.

Inside was a sleek brass ring. He picked it up and read the inscription on the ring.

“Y/n and Nana forever.”

What a fool he was.

Part 2 coming soon...

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[misserabella]

Would you be open to writing Abby Anderson x veterinarian reader (Like it takes Place in the cannon apocalyptic world and the reader is the veterinarian at the WLF)

puppy love (lil blurb!)

abby anderson x fem! reader

cw: just some anxiety and panic from abby, needles, a tiny bit of blood (normal for injections) and fluff. mutual pining!🤍

aw this idea is so cute!

like imagine baby alice catching a stomach bug and getting really sick (poor thing :( ), and abby quickly takes her in between her strong arms and runs towards your clinic in the WLF, panting and with a panic attack by the time she gets there, scared that she was gonna die since she was so little.

and as you work and take the puppy in, you are reassuring her that everything will be okay, and that she’s just dehydrated due to all the vomiting.

and even though it breaks her heart, she watches. watches as you cut and buzz the hair on her little tiny paw and find a vein to stick a needle so big she fears for the puppy, her blue eyes watering at the sight of blood sticking to your fingers.

and once everything is done and alice is peacefully sleeping with a drip on her paw, you shush abby.

“is she gonna be okay? please tell me she’s gonna be okay. i’ve only had her for a week! she can’t die. she can’t…”

you hush her, your warm palms taking her shoulders and caressing up and down her muscled arms to calm the panicked girl in from of you.

“hey… everything’s gonna be okay. it’s just a stomach bug. she’s a strong pup. she’s gonna make it.” you promise with a sweet reassuring smile. and abby might be falling fast just for that. cause you’re soft, and sweet, and smart, and you don’t mind spending the whole night up with her in the clinic to keep an eye on the puppy, assuring her that she’s just fine.

and by the time alice is back to jumping and barking and licking all over abby’s face she was completely smitten with you.

“see, i told you everything would be alright.” you smiled at her, petting alice, who basically jumped to your arms from abby’s to lick at your cheek. “oh! you’re welcome alice, you’re welcome…” you laughed, scratching behind her ears. “i think she likes me.” you said to abby, happy.

“she’s not the only one.” abby muttered back and when you stared at her, her blue eyes were on yours. your whole face flushed at her words.

“well… i like you too.” you talked to alice, by a moment your eyes meeting hers once again at the end of the sentence.

let’s say… you met abby a couple more times after that. and that you found out that you really liked her.

you two end up dating, become the cutest couple of the whole WLF and alice ended up with two mommies <3.