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#this is so ridiculous i have to work for the rest of my life i have to do this shit for the next 50 fucking years. christ. christ.
wynnyfryd · 3 days
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oh god oh fuck i’m having new fic ideas that i WILL NOT INDULGE because i have one single molecule of discipline that i am clinging to for dear life but:
Steve actually loves his parents. His dad especially. And everybody’s all:
“What the fuck?”
“But he’s never around.”
“I thought you were pissed at him for something?”
“You called him an asshole all the time,” Nancy adds.
And Steve laughs, “Well, yeah. I mean, he’s totally an asshole, but what does that have to do with anything? You think I’m supposed to talk about sports with all of you?”
“Hey-!”
“Not you, Lucas. Whatever, my dad’s awesome, I love that guy.”
anyway i just need steve to be on good terms with his family and actually have a bunch of family members because they’re catholics. like, steve has a sister in college and a brother who’s working already, and their branch of the family is considered small by the rest. like, eddie attends a reunion once and spends the whole time in a low-grade panic because why are there so many cousins? jesus christ
okay cool and then we know steve can get super high-strung and ridiculous when he gets stressed sooooo: future fic + bridezilla steve. he’d be such a nightmare. like, he was too frugal to hire a wedding coordinator so now he’s running around trying to team captain everybody at the rehearsal dinner and he’s got forty relatives crammed into the back room of a steak house, and everyone’s talking over each other and he can’t even think straight anymore
steve finally snapping in a super loud and bitchy tone, “okay, aunt mary, maybe lets trying speaking one at a TIME” and the whole room goes quiet lmfaooo
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shellxrls · 17 hours
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okay to complete the trilogy
here’s how jj fucks
okay so we all know jj is an energetic person, and this only escalates in bed.
he has ridiculous stamina and an even more ridiculous refractory period. he will dump three loads and still be up for more.
he also does not gaf if it gets messy.
he loves to feel in control, I mentioned this with rafe but for him it’s slightly different. he’s much less mean about it. Rafe sees it as a power trip whereas jj sees it as like “helping” in a way.
for me specifically sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and that’s exactly where sex with jj comes in best.
he’s not soothing like John b is, he just does not stop. and that fucking works.
he also very much knows what he likes, and will always make sure he gets that, but he’s also realllyyy good at making sure the pleasure is mutual.
he never had an off day when it comes to giving pleasure, he may but a dumb fuck, but he does know how a girls (and a guys I can’t even lie to you) body works.
he loves giving backshots! if he could choose one sex position for the rest of his life it would be having me face down ass up.
he goes fast and hard, and he’s a grunter. Always with the little punched out “uh, uh, uh”’s and it’s so so hottttt.
skin slapping and bedpost banging are the primary sounds heard other than disgustingly shameless moaning.
jj is a shameless moaner and he made me one too the little cunt.
if I’m not loud enough for his liking or if I’m tryna quiet myself down he will dirty talk the noises out of me.
he genuinely said “lemme hear those pretty noises mama, yeahhhh that’s it.” And I’m never. ever recovering.
he’s not into any kinks that involve deliberate injury for pleasure. like slapping or choking, stuff like that he hates in bed. simply because his at home life is quite unstable and he just can’t imagine ever doing that to someone he loves cause he knows how it feels. even if it’s consensual on the receiving side he just absolutely cannot bring himself to do it. As a very open and experimenting person in bed, choking, slapping anything of that type of action he absolutely refuses and honestly I get that. He also refuses any type of noncon.
however he can spank. though only EVER does it when he’s really mad or riled up, and even then he is so so so attentive. always checking in after every hit just to make sure it’s not becoming too much.
he is also very adamant about safe words. always having a safe word and action and always checking through them and agreeing on them before we do anything that involves deliberate injury or just anything particularly rough in general.
also makes sure to give very good aftercare after spanking or a particularly rough night. LOTS of kisses and praise cause he would absolutely eat away at himself if he thought I was feeling neglected or bad about myself cause of something he’d done. especially in a setting as vulnerable as that.
and he’s also very good and communication which surprised me. again he’s very adamant about never hurting the people he loves, especially with the way he grew up. if I’ve suggested something he doesn’t want to do for that reason he’s very good at voicing it and honestly I’m glad bc I would never want to make him uncomfortable.
he’s also v open about sex, and is always totally there to talk about it or hear new suggestions or anything that I need to talk about he will.
he is very into butt stuff!!! I am his anal princess I cannot even begin to lie to u. he definitely has not bought me as many butt plugs but you bet I’m gettin a nice one he saved up for every Valentine’s Day cause he’s jst a lover boy to his core <33 and butt stuff <333
he’s mostly into giving praise but sometimes if he’s particularly wound up a little bit of degradation is sprinkled in. again is very thorough with aftercare after the fact of these situations.
he’s also such a munch. like the munchiest munch in munchland. he owns a t-shirt that says “I ❤️ eating pussy” and wears it on a regular.
he knows just how to work a pussy with his mouth and its IMMACULATE!!! he can also eat ass too omg.
he lovesss using toys. most guys see toys as a competition, but not jj. this man knows what’s up. he has a whole ass collection of random ass toys laying around and somehow at some point they all get used.
his fav combination when I’m tired is being four fingers knuckles deep in me with a vibrator to my clit and ohmygollygoshgoodness. deceased.
he’s really into tired / sleepy sex too. though he’d never do anything sexual while I was asleep because as previously stated, this man does not do any type of noncon.
but like I say if one of us wakes up in the middle of the night then it’s sleepy, sloppy, tired messy sex and ughh <333
he also loves cockwarming mmh. well put a movie on and I’ll jst sit on his cock and it’s sooo..
loves being sucked off <3 and he has such a pretty dick too. uncut but he actually likes to shave around there. such a perfect pink tip like I can’t even it’s the prettiest thing. can taste putrid though if I’m not careful.
he likes to have his balls played with / sucked on.
and PISS KINK!!! omg he’s jst gross ab it it’s so hot. makes me grind on his thing when I need to piss just to make me lose control and :(((
also on another note he does not gaf if I’m on my period. a true soldier is not afraid to get his sword bloody (I saw someone else on their blog say this and have honestly just adopted the phrase cause it makes me giggle)
I think this is everything but I’m literally so tired right now, if there’s anything I’ve forgotten I’ll js put it in a different ask <3
- rafe shifter
i’m posting this rn cuz everyone wants it !! i don’t have time to individually respond but trust i WILL add onto this post later with my own thoughts. ty anon for sending this in and taking time to explain every detail <3 !!
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valenishere · 2 days
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Sagau Idea
I'm not that good with writing YouPoV's so there may be some odd usage of they's and thems then switching to "you"'s. this'll be stock full of typos so be warned
Mentions of injury, implied murder, blood, and implied cult
It's been a long while since I've gotten into Self-aware genshin aus, reading the fluffiest scenes to straight up gore. And theres this concept I saw about where the creator (basically, you) can make any oc come to life and help them out. (this one read it s really good. They also expanded on it go read it too its a really neat build-up on it. this one)
And as a DnD enjoyer as well... there's this idea thats been brewing in my head whenever i think back to it.
What if in Imposter!au where they're being constantly being hunted... after getting cornered in one of the nations (in the Chasm for example) they get desperate and try out an idea they don't think would work.
While resting after being in the brink of death(again) in a place Teyvat has helped you conceal, your thoughts wander. You think, why is there even a Creator? There isn't supposed to be one. That kinda concept just disrupts everything they know about the game. It's a ridiculous concept. In your delirious state, you think, "I wish that just disappears... Then i wouldn't be..."
Then you remebered the curious ability you've recently unlocked in your "adventures". The ability to create characters, with some limitations. It took you quite a bit to adjust to your newfound ability and its caveats, resulting in a few heartbreaking loss on the way.
But as a DnD player, overcoming the death of your beloved characters quickly is a mental fortitude you've developed. And it's handy that you've already made a few characters for your past sessions before landing in Teyvat. It saved you from being one-shotted right from the start.
Although now... You're down to only one left.
"... I'm so tired..."
The mental stress of being in a constant state of danger, paranoia, hunger, pain, and exhaustion have worn you down to a point where you can't even think up of more characters to make up for the one's that have recently passed. You slipped up so bad because of sleeplessness that your last capable party of characters died and a hole was speared through your gut too.
As you lay bleeding on the cold ground, with only a talking mushroom to keep you company, you wrack your brain to put together a proper character but... you really can't. You can't even think straight. Not with the recent information you've found out.
The so-called Creator is now creating their very own characters, their very own people/army, through alchemy, and is now sending them after you, thus increasing your hunters by double. And on top of the already powerful vision-holders (of course they're powerful, you made them that way), you figured... "Ah... I'm fucked..."
Knowing you might as well be as good as done now, you didn't even bother bringing out the last of your characters to heal you. It's not like healing yourself will make you forget about this lifelong trauma--
... Forget?
...
A fleeting thought.
A dumb fleeting thought. A very dumb one at that.
One that will for sure backfire in your face if you do it wrong. And quite frankly, it could spell the end for this world, even for the one they call Creator.
... But it's not like you have anything else to lose.
And so, within the dim light of the mushroom, you painstakingly start to write. Word for word, cramming everything information you know, as deatiled as you can make it into bringing it into life. A character you've never tried making before. Something that could possibly end your suffering. Or make it worse.
You honestly don't know if you're doing it right. After all, you've never tried something like it before.
"What are you making this time?' the ever so curious mushroom asked.
You grin, a manic look in your eyes. "Either my stupidest... or my brightest idea yet."
It's not long befere you finished. You gaze upon your finished product and you have to say... it's even more fleshed out than your best characters. And that quick sketch you drew... you swear those hollow eyes are following you already. That may be just the blood loss talking.
"That's... one ugly worm you've drawn..." The mushroom hums, like it can just see the monstrosity that you've created.
You chuckle breathlessly, looking almost solemn with what you're about to do. Well... it' not wrong. But...
"This is my kid. Their name is... Falseh. Get along well with them... okay?"
0===|>>>>>.
The very ground trembles as the Lord of Geo strides through the dark tunnels, a dark look in his eyes and a spear in his hand. If his presence wasn't enough, the murderous intent rolling off of him in waves is enough to deter any beasts from crossing his path.
The imposter was last seen slinking around the depths of the Chasm by one of the Tianquan's agents. Although failing to execute the imposter the first chance they got with their incompetence, Morax have to commend the Qixing for being able to find them even in the depths of the earth.
For some reason, the land seems to reject his commands from time to time now. He was baffled as to why his beloved Maker is hindering him in fulfilling his given mission but he's just been informed that the land defiance of him is due to the imposter infecting the land with their vile abilities.
Now, he's even more hellbent on making sure to drive his spear through the imposters heart and presenting it to his Grace. He won't miss a second time.
His eyes sharpens as a he a cavern just up ahead, soft blue light spilling through entrance. Tightening his grip on his spear, the power of Geo gathers in his other, ready to skewer someone five times into death if he so wishes.
He steps through the entrance and immediately lands on a figure, leaning prone under a giant glowing mushroom. He relaxes a bit. He recognizes this place. It's a bit close to the Land of Verdure, Sumeru. He needs to be careful. He can't be caught flaunting his power on another Archons domain after all.
Approaching the figure, he gets a bit surprised as they twitch, looking up to him through their hair. They try to talk, but all they can manage are quiet wheezes.
'Oh. They're still breathing. That's good.' Zhongli kneels down beside them, looking them over. They look like they've been dragged through the Abyss and back. Their midriff is bandaged heavily but it's already bled through, forming a pool of their own blood below them. He frowns lightly. It must be quite a big injury if it's bleeding this much.
Wordlessly, he holds a hand over the injury and channels his power. He's not the most profficient in healing, but he should at least be able to stop the bleeding.
Mere moments later, he have plugged up the injury and the figure is now able to stand up.
"Th-Thank you so much Rex Lapis!" they bow down. Or at least, they bow down the best they can without opening their wound. "Any longer and I would've surely perished..."
Zhongli waves them off nonchalantly as he starts to walk back out the way he came. "It's best you get back to the surface. Your injury needs to be properly tended. And I can see that..."
His eyes drifts to the scattered bloody bandages and practically empty backpack. "You've run out of supplies. It is a virtue to you mortals to know when to give up. Remember that."
"Y-Yes sir Rex Lapis sir! I'll get back right away!" they start to quickly collect their things, haphazardly stuffing the bandages and handbook into the bag, being careful of their injury.
The Lord of Geo just watches for a moment before completely leaving, trusting that they won't make any stupid mistake and go back post haste.
After he has left, you pause in your packing, leaning against the mushroom and slowly sliding down with a shaky breath.
"Y-You... didn't you say he and the entirety of the world was hunting for you?" The mushroom hums in confusion, sharing your tension. "What was that? Heck, he was the one that put a hole through you and he healed you!"
You chuckle breathlessly, the manic look intensifying in your eyes as it dawns on you that it worked. That stupid idea of yours actually worked!
And if you can get to the Creator... you can make this whole concept disappear altogether. Forever.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see it. A large mass of hairless flesh writhing about, multiple tentacle-like appendages potruding out of it. It's slithering it's limbs about, coiling around the mushroom and and back again, and around you as well.
But when you turn your head to actually look, there's nothing there. All you can hear is what seems to be muffled humming, an eerie tune listlessly flowing through the air (but somehow, the sound is the most comforting thing ever).
"Oh it's nothing. I think... he just heard something that made him forget."
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slutweed · 1 year
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i have 2 and a half hours left of my shift today and I already want to call for tomorrow. not off until Tuesday I'm so checked out. i just want to lounge around like the mammal I am. Fuck production idccccc about selling clothes to people. we have a surplus, just pass them around.
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gothboudreaux · 1 year
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god okay y’all mind if i make a quick appreciation post for my mama??
she’s genuinely the best person i think that has ever walked on this planet tbh she’s so kind and sweet and caring and giving and she loves so unconditionally like i know in my heart of hearts when she tells me she wouldn’t change a single thing about me that she actually MEANS it. i’ve always been weird and i never really fit in but she ALWAYS made me feel included and loved and i could tell her anything about me and she’s so understanding??? there’s not a single thing i could ever do to annoy her even when i’m shut down or when i’m hyper or when i’m a hour late or i’m freaking out and refusing to leave the house like she is just ALWAYS on my side and it feels so NICE to just HAVE someone that always wants to be next to me???
specifically making this post bc lately i’ve been stuck on this vocal stim where when i’m really frustrated or upset i start barking (like a little dog,,,, it’s,,,, a lot) even when we’re in public or around strangers i can’t help it doing it just makes me feel better and instead of being like “bou stop doing that” she will literally just start barking with me bc she knows i feel silly about it and i know we look wild doing it but idk just having a mom like her is the coolest thing ever and i wish i could give her every single thing she deserves and then some
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arthur-r · 1 year
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going mildly insane while online thrifting somebody help me (/lh but /gen)
#i need: enough pairs of jeans for two living spaces. stuff to make the apartment feel like home. a record player for there (want not need#but i want it really bad. and also this way i could get one that i take with me for the rest of my life and my mom gets my black victrola#and there’s this combination radio-record player-cd player-cassette player and i kind of really want it for the future#cause like i just have a couple cds but i’m a record collector and radio enjoyer and very close friend cd collector#and anyway there’s the charity gala coming up (winter semi-formal at school) and then senior prom in a couple months#and last year i wore a donated beige suit like that i got for free because i couldn’t get one on my own#and now i have slightly more means but still not going to spend as much as a prom jacket costs and so#that’s how i ended up scrolling poshmark for upwards of an hour looking at everything in the world#there’s also some really cool neckties and t shirts that i really like. for me and presents#oh and there’s these incredible converse that i’m obsessed with like the opposite of my other converse#i have these really cool burnt orange and gold that i’m obsessed with that make me tall and have sparkly#and then there’s these really comfy looking brown and orange converse for not very much and they look so comfortable#but so the point is i genuinely need more items in my life if i’m going to live like this. but i’m also going overkill#and then i still don’t have like. a winter coat that keeps me warm i just don’t have one. and i could really use one but all of them make me#want to cry. because of my stupid color everything. and so it’s like. i’m willingly going cold in life because everything hurts too much#and it’s just kind of. i’m a little bit useless and ridiculous and i hate it. not having a good time of it#anyway i need a shower and then i’m doing a thing with my sister and then i’m on zoom about the script i didn’t sign up to write#and then maybe i’ll eventually have some clarity about what i actually need and what’s stupid#but yeah. idk. it’s just been some several hours of this while listening to dazey and the scouts radio. music to go insane to /gen#anyway i might need help choosing between suit jackets eventually. that’s something i really want to work out for me#and also maybe record player advice actually shdhdf. probably a lot of advice#but yeah i’m just a little bit been-in-my-bed-for-12-hours feeling. wish me luck#ask to tag. just shouting out into the world as my shopping problem (which does not extend to a buying problem) continues#does that make sense???? like i put hours of my life into online shopping. i don’t buy things and that’s not my problem. but i have this#obsessive way of being and i will just go through everything someone has ever sold and just repeat and repeat and it’s a problem. just not#the problem that people tend to have. when it comes to shopping. but it’s been true since i was like ten on wayfair it’s how i waste my life#and so here i am stuck inside that again. for good reason but still not doing it in a normal person way. again wish me luck#with being normal about it and also with finding the things i need. cause i physically don’t have enough clothes here to last me a week#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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yossarianirl · 7 months
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#suicide tw#sorry for insaneposting but i dont want to talk to my friends#and its the middle of the night#filler tags to hide the rest of the tags#fislhdksjdjshsjsjsjdhskjsbdjsbdkdkdhdidhdjskdhskdhksjdjdjdjdjdjdndjfjbfjdncjcndjdjcjdjdjdhfjjfjdfjjfjdjdjfkdjdjcjdjdjcjdjdjcjdjcjcjjdjckdjdj#if i dont start functioning again soon im going to kms#not legitimately bc unfortunately no matter what happens to me i still dont want to die#i wish i couldve just been aborted tho so i wouldnt have any attachments n noone would b able to miss me#cant have any goals if u never existed#but like life has gotten objectively massively worse every single year of my life#i cant rly name much that was worth being alive for#and the bad outweighs the good by a ridiculous degree. this life is not worth it at all#and i have zero prospects for the future esp w how the economy keeps getting more unliveable#the way i see it my life will be a slow torture where i live in poverty#am constantly drained from working fulltime n still having no spare money#barely able to look after myself n prob have health issues from that#and full of things id lvoe to do but never have the energy for so when im old ill regret everythjng#and be even more miserable#caring abt things and wanting to do things makes wverything worse bc everything always goes wrong#and i lose everything that matters to me and nothing is permanent. and itll keep getting worse#i cant believe this is the world i literally feel like im in hell. or the apocalypse. i shouldnt be alive for this#i should never have been born id give anything to be an aborted fetus and avoid all this shit#theres not many ppl whose lives would be different n i think my whole family would b happier#i feel like fucking gregor samsa locked in a room and a useless burden to his family#i dont even get to havw a bedroom bc they needed it more. i dont get a real bed#they complain that im here so hey cant use this room#it is a failure of the universe that i was born
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rory-cakes · 1 month
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Alastor's Birdy
Alastor wasn’t a good man. 
In fact, he was no longer a man at all. 
He was the Radio Demon, an overlord of hell, owner of souls, and host of the Hazbin Hotel. 
The only evidence that he was ever human was the gold band worn around his ring finger. No one seemed to notice it; if they did, they didn’t dare ask. 
Not much was known about the terrifying radio demon. The others at the hotel often wondered about the origins of the great Alastor Altruist. 
Well, not until Mimzy comes along.
“Alastooor, Sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve ya been? Good? Good.”
Alastor hugs the small woman while everyone stares in confusion. 
“Listen, I was in the neighborhood! I heard you were staying at this ritzy ditzy slob factory-”
A glint of gold catches the light.
“Oh! By the way, where’s your little birdy?”
Alastor’s who? The confusion only continued to grow in the room. 
“Oh, Mimzy, you know she would never have ended up down here.”
Who are they talking about?
“Ah yes, she was such a kind soul. The best of the best.”
Finally, someone asks. 
“Yo! Lady! Who ya talkin' about?”
“His missus, of course!”
His what?
“YOU WERE MARRIED?!”
Alastor’s eye twitched as private information about his life came to light.
“I am married; we never divorced.”
Everyone stared in disbelief. How could anyone marry Alastor, of all people? 
Wait-
“You said she would never have ended up down here. Does that mean that your wife is in heaven? Is she an angel?”
“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous! No one that good could have married him!” 
Mimzy pipes up,
“She’s right. Y/n Altruist was too good for the world and sang like a canary!” 
That she did…
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes”
All eyes gazed upon the stage. His little birdy was much like him in how they entranced others with their voices. If all he heard for the rest of eternity was that beautiful song of hers, then he could die a happy man. 
“They make me feel happy
They make me blue
No stallin', I'm fallin'
Going in a great big way for sweet little you”
It was never supposed to last. It was just for a while to make him seem more normal. To hide his less than socially acceptable hobbies. But she was light, and he was a moth to a flame. As he felt the weight of the box in his hand he wondered how someone like him got blessed with someone like her. 
“My heart is jumpin', you sure started something with
Them there eyes
You'd better watch them if you're wise
They sparkle, they bubble
They're gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble
You're overworkin' them, there's danger lurkin' in
Them there eyes”
Her eyes brightened as they landed on him sitting at his usual table in the back. He was done with work early and had come to pick her up so they could walk home together. 
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes” 
HIS. She was his. He was hers. They were each others.
The only proof that Alastor was ever human was the gold band around his ring finger.
A/N: Here's the fic lol @mag-chan
part 2
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prozach27 · 1 year
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vanteguccir · 24 days
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Left alone | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where, after a difficult week, Matt takes out all his stress on Y/N, causing great damage to their relationship.
Warning: Fighting, yelling, cursing, dark thoughts. ANGST!
Requested?: Yes, by anons and @ivoncheetooo1239
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
Part 2
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"I don't know where you want to get with that, Matt." Y/N sighed, closing her eyes tightly for a few minutes before opening them again, keeping them fixed on the road in front of the car. She had her head resting on her right hand, and her elbow braced next to the passenger door window.
Matt, as usual, had gone to pick up Y/N from work after her shift, but he was surprised to have to wait for an hour in the car for his girlfriend to finally be released, as her boss had demanded that she had to work overtime.
Despite being wrong, Matt felt furious.
His week was more than hectic with the start of sales of the 6 million clothing collection, as he and his brothers had to spend hours autographing photos of themselves that would go with each order. In addition to - by Nick and Chris's choice -, the three of them were the ones who hand-packed the first ones, which resulted in Matt having to stay awake until late hours, and waking up early everyday to fulfill his other tasks.
With all that, having to sit in his car for an hour, with only his phone and in such an uncomfortable seat seemed to increase his irritation, and he couldn't help but start an argument with his girlfriend, feeling like a pressure cooker about to explode.
"I'm just saying that you don't stop at home anymore. You just work all day, as if it was your number one priority in life. And now you've started this nonsense of working overtime!" Matt accused, gesturing exaggeratedly with his right hand while keeping his left one on the steering wheel.
"It's not like I asked to work overtime, Matt! You and your brothers have worked in a grocery store once, you know how it works-"
"Don't you dare bring up Chris and Nick's name. They have nothing to do with your lack of responsibility within a relationship." The boy took his eyes off the road momentarily, giving her a cold look that sent shivers running up her spine.
"Matt, you're being ridiculous! I understand your week has been tiring-" Matt cut the girl off again, shaking his head nervously.
"No, you don't know nothing, Y/N!" His tone was arrogant, a tone that the girl didn't remember ever hearing from him. "I'm exhausted because of my own work, and I still have to come and pick you up every day! And now you make me stay stuck in this car for an hour, waiting for Miss Perfect here to decide to leave." His voice gradually increased in volume.
Y/N could already feel the sensations of the ugly crying that was about to come, taking a deep breath and counting to 10 in her head.
"Then don't pick me up anymore, Matt! You were willing to come every day after my work just until some days ago, but if it's so hard for you now, don't come anymore." Y/N replied, her tone lower than her boyfriend's but still carrying much stress.
"How can you be so ungrateful?" Matt shouted, slamming his hands against the steering wheel violently.
"Matt, look, I'm sorry- Hey, keep your eyes on the road!" Y/N ignored the pang she felt in her heart at the brunette's words, fear rising through her veins as she saw the car move further away from the main road, as a result of his lack of attention.
Her eyes were wide as she raised her hands, ready to grab the steering wheel if necessary.
"You know what? I'm done." Matt spoke through gritted teeth, turning the car sharply to the right until it stopped on the side of the road.
"What are you doing? Matt?" Y/N asked, her breath coming out shakily as her eyes traveled down the dark, deserted street, to her boyfriend's face, which seemed to be covered in a gray cloud of hate.
"I'm done with this. If you don't want to take responsibility for your own mistakes and don't understand the seriousness of this relationship like I do, then maybe it's not worth the effort." He unlocked the doors, crossing his arms and keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his nostrils flaring as a result of his hard breathing.
"M-Matt, don't do that." The girl tried, swallowing hard.
She reached out her hand towards him with the intention of gently touching his arm, but Matt pulling away roughly, as if she were a plague, made her stop abruptly for a few seconds, her hand slowly lowering.
“I need to think, Y/N.” He shook his head, resting his elbows on the steering wheel and laying his head in his hands, closing his eyes tightly. "Get out." He demanded sharply.
Y/N's eyes widened, her heart stopping momentarily.
"W-what? Are you crazy? Look at the time, Matt. How am I going to-"
"Get out." Matt interrupted her, not once looking up. His tone was flat and cold.
Y/N looked at him for a few more seconds, as if waiting for him to apologize and say it was all a sick joke. But that never happened.
She quickly pulled the car handle, grabbing her purse and getting out of the passenger seat. The cold night air hit her body with force as if needles were piercing her skin, eliciting a strong shiver from her members.
Her hand pushed the door hard, closing it, the sound echoing like a dull thud. Her eyes watched the car restart not even a second later, screeching away.
Y/N remained still for a few seconds - or minutes -, watching Matt's car disappear into the distance, her hope of him turning around slowly disappearing.
"Come back." Her voice sounded so broken, just like her insides. "P-please."
She spun around, taking note of the street completely deserted of cars or humans, the only source of life being the streetlights.
The girl quickly hooked her purse onto her right shoulder, crossing her arms tightly around her torso and beginning the steps of the long walk she would have to take to get home - if she even could call that place her home anymore. The possibility of Matt kicking her out after the events made her legs tremble.
Her throat started to hurt from the crying that she was still holding back. The emotions rising in her chest were like bile in her throat; It burned and hurt like never before. Her heart felt like it was being crushed by a human hand, and it didn't take long for loud sobs to escape her lips, her eyes stinging from the hot tears in contact with the freezing wind.
It was minutes of walking without stopping, her feet ached from the tension in her body, a result of the intense cold and the several times she turned back, checking if she wasn't being followed.
The familiar street soon took over her blurred vision, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. Thick tears were still rolling from her eyes, but her sobs had stopped, being replaced by small sniffles.
Y/N shuffled down the sidewalk, passing the houses neighboring hers, before finally stopping in front of her front door. Her hands, practically frozen by the cold, opened her purse in a quick movement, rummaging through the smaller pockets, looking for the key.
She closed her eyes tightly when she couldn't find it, vaguely remembering just throwing it in the glove compartment of Matt's car that morning since she was in such a rush and still eating her breakfast.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she fished out her phone, cursing under her breath when she noticed that the battery was almost all gone. Just her lucky day.
She quickly unlocked the screen, going into her contact list and clicking on Chris's one. The boy answered on the second ring, surprising Y/N.
"Y/N? Thank God, where are you guys?" Chris's voice sounded relieved. Y/N frowned, her mind creating thousands of horrible scenarios as to why Matt hadn't gotten home yet.
The path she took, which took her almost 30 minutes of walking - or more, since she was walking slowly due to the cold - would not even take 15 minutes by car.
"C-Chris, open the door for me. Please." Her voice was broken, her teeth chattering as her body felt the temperature drop even more now that she stood still.
"Are you out there? Alone?" He asked exasperatedly. The sound of his bed shuffling sounded from behind, probably the result of him getting up.
"Yeah... Just hurry, please." Y/N repeated, her tone completely vulnerable.
The line went dead at the same instant. Her right hand - which was holding the device - moved away from her ear quickly, her eyes only finding the negative battery icon.
She threw her phone into her purse again, her eyes prickling with new tears that wanted to flow. Her mind created terrible thoughts about herself and her day, and all she wanted most was to sleep and perhaps never wake up again.
The sound of keys sounded on the other side of the door seconds before it was abruptly opened. Chris's figure appeared, his wide eyes carrying immense concern as they roamed Y/N's body, seeming to search for any injuries.
"Oh my God, you're freezing." He confirmed when he noticed her shaking, gently pulling her inside, before closing the door again. He rubbed his hands over Y/N's arms, which, even though they were covered by the fluffy jacket, were still extremely cold.
The warm air from the heater inside the house welcomed the girl's body gracefully, surrounding her like a thin blanket. She sighed, closing her eyes momentarily.
"Where the hell is Matt? I thought he was going to pick you up." Chris asked exasperatedly, helping her take her purse off her shoulder, hanging it on the rack next to the door.
Y/N felt her eyes fill with tears again at the mention of her boyfriend's name. An ugly sound of choked sobs escaping her throat caught Chris's attention, who stopped his movements and turned his eyes to her.
"Oh no, what did he do?" His tone was gentle as he approached, pulling her into a tight hug as he watched her shake her head in denial repeatedly, her lips trembling. "Let's go to my room, you need a hot shower and fresh clothes."
Chris slowly stepped away, keeping one of his hands on Y/N's shoulders, guiding her through the kitchen and down the stairs towards his own room.
The door was already open - being left like that when the boy rushed after receiving her call -, the two of them just passing through it before Chris closed it, keeping the hot air trapped between the four walls.
"Go take a shower, I'll get you some new clothes from your closet, okay? There's a clean towel in the cabinet under the sink." The boy indicated, watching his sister-in-law nod weakly, a low "thank you" escaping her lips before she could enter the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
It didn't take long for Y/N to step out again, already dressed in the Fresh Love sweatshirt set that Chris placed on the sink - just by putting his arm between the door and the frame.
Even though she wanted to melt like hot water and go down the drain just like her tears that fell imperceptibly, her feet hurt too much to support her weight for even another minute, begging for a rest.
Chris was sitting on the right side of the bed, his back against the headboard and his legs above the duvet, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, seeming to be waiting for her.
The sound of the bathroom door closing attracted his attention, and he quickly locked his cell, putting it on the bedside table before tapping the empty space next to him, silently calling Y/N to sit there.
The girl walked to the indicated side, lifting the duvet and sitting on the mattress, staying in the same position as Chris, but with her legs covered.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" He asked calmly, watching her closely, trying to read her expressions, but seeing only an ocean of pain in every line of her face and eyes.
"Matt left me in the middle of the road." She swallowed hard, shaking her head while closing her eyes tightly. "We had a fight. My boss demanded from me to work overtime and I forgot to tell Matt, so he ended up waiting for me for an hour in his car. He was tired from the day and the week, and I think the stress built up on both our sides, and he just started yelling at me." Y/N shrugged, sniffing momentarily, trying to hold back her tears.
"Wait, he left you in the middle of the road, alone and in the cold? To come home walking?" Chris's eyes widened, a look of disbelief occupying his blue orbs as he tried to process the information.
"Yeah." The girl's voice sounded low and vulnerable, her head lowering and her eyes focusing on her hands above the duvet, feeling embarrassed by her boyfriend's actions. "I tried to intervene at some point, but he was so mad." She took a deep breath, biting her bottom lip hard, the pain almost numb next to the one she felt in her heart. "I don't know what I did wrong, Chris." Her voice broke, a dry sob escaping her throat.
"I'm so sorry for my brother's actions, Y/N." Chris sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I promise you did absolutely nothing wrong. Don't let those thoughts get the best of you."
"I just... Maybe I'm not really giving our relationship enough credit. Or maybe I'm not enough to fit into Matt's life patterns and busy days." She douted, playing with her fingers as a nervous act.
"Why don't you try to get some sleep? I imagine how tired you are and it's late. We can talk about this tomorrow, but try to clean your mind for now, okay?" He suggested.
Chris helped her lay down after receiving a nod of agreement, adjusting the duvet over her body. The girl moved her head, laying it on his left thigh, seeking comfort. He quickly put his hand on her hair, stroking the area calmly, lulling her into sleep.
After making sure she was already dreaming, the boy moved her slowly - so as not to wake her -, laying her completely on the mattress before getting up. He sat down in his gaming chair, crossing his legs on the seat.
Chris closed his eyes tightly, massaging his temples, trying to reduce the tension there. His eyes remained on Y/N's figure, caring for her sleep like a worried older brother, longing to have the power to erase the entire event from the girl's memory.
Matt would hear from him when he arrived.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @iammattswife
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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ozzgin · 25 days
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Listen, I am working on those promised WIPs, but I've had this idea for a long time now and yesterday I was too sleep deprived to do anything else. This is for my goat leg connoisseurs out there ✊😔 This is just the introduction! More will follow in time.
Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader
As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!
Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’
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There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.
Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.
You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.
“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.
“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”
“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”
“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.
The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.
“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”
“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”
His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.
“Perfect match.”
“Excuse me?”
He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.
Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.
“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”
The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.
A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.
“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.
The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.
“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.
“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”
A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.
“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.
“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”
Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.
“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.
He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.
“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”
For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.
“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”
“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.
You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:
“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”
Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.
“Who’s a buffoon?”
The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.
“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.
“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”
As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:
“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.
“What are you even doing here?”
“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”
“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”
“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”
“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”
Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.
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awearywritersworld · 9 months
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the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure
gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.
you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.
he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"
you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"
"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"
"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.
you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.
~~~
some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.
when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.
"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.
"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.
after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"
there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"
your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.
"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.
rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.
you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."
"p-promise?"
"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.
gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.
gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.
~~~
the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.
you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.
he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.
your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.
gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.
he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.
he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.
~~~
leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.
you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.
crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.
"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."
gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.
"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.
he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?
"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"
he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.
he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"
god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.
i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.
"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."
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satoruxx · 4 months
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SWEET SNACKS.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words
✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!
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satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.
honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.
he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.
so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.
the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.
"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"
he takes in the scene with interest.
even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.
you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.
and why wouldn't it?
nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.
and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.
but of course, even that couldn't just work out.
satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.
"hey, you need some help?"
you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.
you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.
then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.
satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.
you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.
so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."
satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"
he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.
satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.
his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.
"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.
satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.
"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."
satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."
you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.
you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.
"satoru."
for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.
you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.
he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.
"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."
you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"
he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.
"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"
satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."
somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.
"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.
he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."
there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"
before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.
"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"
"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.
"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.
"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."
he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."
you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."
"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"
you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."
satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.
"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"
he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."
you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."
there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.
when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.
"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.
you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"
satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"
you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."
you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.
"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."
satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.
he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"
you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."
and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.
but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.
you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.
by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.
you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:
in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3
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gojoath · 10 days
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𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ AT IT LIKE RABBITS, RAYNE AMES
sometimes you poke fun at your boyfriends cute little rabbit obsession, although sometimes it doesn’t exactly go in your favour…. or does it.
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summary. fem reader. multiple rounds / orgasms. breeding / kids mention. teasing. previous creampies. rayne’s stamina is v good ofc. you’re in a relationship. wc, 1.4k.
note. honestly i just wanted to post a little mashle thing for fun :) i hope you guys enjoy + the characterisation is passable (i’ve been studying him all day) this is kinda rushed + not my best work but i hope you guys enjoy or to those who even watch it T^T ❤︎
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“have you ever went at it like rabbits?”
your question is sudden from where you’re resting in the bed next to your boyfriend, rayne. you’re shoulder to shoulder and in a comfortable sort of silence that’s just abruptly been cut through with your words.. albeit you find the ask to be a pretty important one considering your boyfriend is fond of bunnies. you wouldn’t be surprised if he incorporated that characteristic into his own intimate life considering everything else he does.
but it’s still met with silence, which for the most part isn’t surprising, but it does earn you something close to a disappointed sigh, which also isn’t surprising as he turns to shoot you a blank look.
“you’ve heard of it, right?” you try again when rayne doesn’t say anything and still he just looks at you, like he’s doing you a favour by not answering you. anybody else who’d normally been met with the same look from the divine visionary would’ve cowered or forgotten the conversation entirely by now. but instead, you choose to shift yourself a little closer as you roll onto your side to hold his gaze, even going as far as to prop your head up with your palm as you sink into the cushion beneath you.
the silence lingers for longer than you expect it to and still, you’re just met with his unenthusiastic gaze before his brows furrow slightly and you deflate. you deliberately try your best to act as disappointed as possible as you look away from him, your little act earning you another sigh before he’s knocking his shoulder closer to you.
“never thought about it.” rayne’s voice is low as he speaks, scratching slightly from misuse but it still feels like it pulls you in, making you curl closer as you blink up at him following his sudden interest. you always find it charming the way he tries to entertain your ridiculous questions despite his otherwise serious, even detached sort of demeanour with most other people.
but you can’t help but feel a little smug at the softness he tries his best to show towards you, even though it’s hidden underneath all that coldness, he tries and that’s enough.
“but you like rabbits.. you breed them, so you know the expression, right?”
“so you want to have a bunch of kids, is that it?” rayne’s sudden bluntness catches you off guard slightly, but you still pick up the further drop in his tone as his gaze holds yours again. the room feels stuffier suddenly, and you don’t realise how close you’ve become until your chest presses into his as you take a long inhale.
although you’d be lying if you said you weren’t atleast a little used to your boyfriends way of doing things. so you make sure to lean in a little closer, an attempt to regain control of the conversation as you give him a look from underneath your lashes. “are you offering?”
“quit teasing.”
“i’m not, come on~” you pout, whining slightly and it makes your boyfriend shift beside you. although he doesn’t put any distance between you both; if anything, he seems to inch even closer.
“then you sure like to make empty promises,” rayne’s pokerface is almost unbreakable despite the way you swear he feels warmer underneath his shirt.
“oh, i know you of all people wouldn’t put up with that.” that much was true, your boyfriend has always been someone who valued actions over anything else and he made sure he himself lived by that same attitude. your words are taunting, licking your lips deliberately slowly as you watch the way the divine visionaries eyes leaves yours momentarily to follow the movement.
but something sparks in rayne’s gaze when your free hand reaches for him, soft fingertips pressing into the muscle at his chest for a moment before your hand is snatched away by his suddenly.
you give him a confused look, but it’s followed by a sudden shift as he opts to press your hand into the pillow by your head and he presses you onto your back. it’s almost so easy, the ease in which he pushes himself up to curl over you, knocking himself between your thighs until he’s looming over your figure from above and his chest is against yours. you feel like you can barely breathe beneath the heat in his gaze, truly like a bunny who’s been ensnared in a wolves jaws.
your body almost trembles beneath rayne when he leans closer, lips tracing along your cheeks before he speaks against your skin. his words are almost a growl as his dual-toned hair falls along his features.
“well, words don’t mean anything to me.”
although now, despite this being your idea, you’re not sure how much more of this action you can take. your boyfriends physical endurance was worthy of earning him the title of one of the divine visionaries afterall— although that seems to be something you forget until he’s fucking you ruthlessly into the mattress.
“what’s wrong? don’t tell me you’re actually struggling.” rayne grunts as his hips roll into you, cock pressing against the sensitive spongy spots inside of your pussy as it squeezes around him. you feel like fucking silk, every saccharine tremble of your walls only seeming to replenish his stamina and fuel his bottomless want for you as he continues his quick, clapping pace.
this was what you wanted right? like rabbits. you’re not sure how long it’s been, how many orgasms he’s pulled you through — pushed into you. all you’re aware of is the buzzing beneath your skin and how lightheaded you feel, deliciously so, it’s like your mind is made of cotton and every deep kiss of your boyfriends cock makes you melt even deeper into the pillows. every thrust squelches loudly as a mixture of his cum and your slick pools onto the mattress beneath you both.
but you can barely speak with how good you feel, only being able to answer rayne’s question with a high-pitched, needy sound as he presses himself deeper into you, chest to chest, like he’s about to crawl his way between your ribs.
“don’t talk big if you can’t keep up.” his words are a low drawl, growled against your skin as his lips press into your cheek and you manage to give him a lidded, dazed look when you turn to meet him. he’s looking at you as the mattress squeaks loudly with every stutter of his hips but he still manages to lean in to smear a kiss against your pouty lips before hes upping his pace to one that’s a little faster.
it makes your body clap against his as rayne’s strong grip holds you in place, curling over you completely until your body is almost folding in half beneath his strength and the push of his chest. but your walls still manage to reward the stretch of his cock by clenching around him and it makes the divine visionary breathe shakily, cursing under his breath before he continues to piston ruthlessly into your plush walls.
“r-rayne, fuck— slow down.” you pant, your fingernails grabbing at his biceps as his hips drive into yours—his body is so close to your own as he presses into you. he’s stretching your muscles even more as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, grunting as he grazes his teeth along your jawline.
“this was your idea.” rayne reminds you but he still eases back on the pressure a little as he reduces his pace to something slower, letting you see more of that wrapped away softness that he keeps solely for the people he cares most about as he lets you catch your breath momentarily.
you shudder when you feel him press a kiss against your cheek, followed by another to the side of your lips, then your nose as his hands squeeze at your skin and he sighs as his hips press snug and tight into yours. although his cock still reaches so deep it makes your toes curl from where they’re hooked over his hips. “do you think the rabbits take breaks?” your boyfriend grumbles and you can’t help but roll your eyes before you’re playfully pushing against his chest.
but the teasing little movement only seems to kickstart his once again brutal pace as rayne humps his cock into you, hellbent on giving you another load and taking another orgasm so he can live up to your challenge. afterall, you’re the one that wanted to put his knowledge of his bunnies to the test as your nails leave behind crimson marks along the smooth skin of his shoulders.
“f-fine, show me how its done then.”
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© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts / themes.
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pathologicalreid · 1 month
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stuck between a rock and a hard place | S.R.
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You, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.
who? spencer reid x fem!FBI!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, hospitals, medical inaccuracy, drugs, sex crimes/trafficking, attempted sa, reader works in sex crimes. mentions foyet and also 6x24 (supply and demand). established relationship. word count: 7.7k a/n: this has been sitting in my wip folder for far too long. i am now emotionally attached to these two. i will write more of this specific pairing because now all i want is for them to be happy.
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Spencer
It wasn’t every day that men and women in suits piled into the BAU carrying evidence boxes, everyone stood up at their desks. Spencer watched as Andi Swann followed in behind the other agents, not even bothering to greet the team as she went straight to Emily’s office.
Prentiss opened the door, letting Andi in before beckoning for Reid to join them. This had to be about you.
Ignoring the way his heart rate spiked, Spencer stood up from his desk and went up to Emily’s office. On the other side of the bullpen, the rest of the team filed into the roundtable room.
“Spencer, have a seat,” Emily offered, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.
Glancing at Agent Swann, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “No, I’ll stand.”
Andi cleared her throat, looking at Spencer, she spoke, “Y/N missed her last two check-ins. As her next of kin, I need to notify you to let you know that as of now, the FBI is considering her missing.”
He wanted to be angry. He wanted so badly to be mad, but he’d seen this before. Years ago, an agent in Andi’s unit missed her check-ins and the BAU helped find her. More than that, he knew how much Andi cared about her agents, so he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.
“Section Chief Cruz has asked that the BAU help to recover Y/N,” Emily said, looking at Spencer. “You know I have to tell you that you can’t be on this case,” she explained, leaning against her desk, eyes flickering as she tried to read Spencer’s expression.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked at Emily, “Y/N’s gone missing, and I’m not allowed to help look for her?”
Sympathetically, Prentiss shook her head, dark hair swaying with the movement. “You know it’s a conflict of interest to be involved with a loved one’s case.”
“Isn’t that kind of what the BAU does?” He could’ve rambled off a list of BAU agents who worked on cases involving their loved ones – including himself and Emily.
Turning to face Agent Swann, Emily suggested she join the rest of the team in the roundtable room. She waited until the door was closed before speaking again, “When’s the last time you saw Y/N?”
Closing his eyes, he remembered the morning of the day you left, the both of you had stayed up late as if you could delay your departure, but the last time he saw you was when he dropped you off at the Sex Crimes Unit before making his way up to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. “We haven’t even spoken since she left,” he answered, almost a month ago now.
“Is there a chance she tried to reach you or her family?” Emily asked. She had to ask, he knew that, but it didn’t make the questions any less ridiculous to him.
Shaking his head, he began to pace around the office, “No, she wouldn’t have done that. She follows the undercover playbook obsessively. She always said freestyling was like signing your death certificate.” He tried. He tried to get you to leave him breadcrumbs, but you never did.
Nodding, Emily watched as he paced back and forth “When did you get married?”
Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he stopped in his tracks, “When I came back after The Believers. It was the next day.” You had offered to sleep on the couch in an attempt to give him space when he asked you to go to the courthouse with him. That was two months ago now.
He didn’t want space. Not from you. Never from you.
Finally, he sat down.
“Did you tell anyone?” Emily asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Did you have a witness to sign your marriage certificate?”
Nodding, Spencer reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and produced three rings, his wedding ring, your engagement ring, and your wedding band. You didn’t have the time to get them soldered together yet. “Rossi was our witness,” he responded, “He was the only one who answered his phone.” He slipped his ring on and closed his fist around your two rings.
After a moment, Emily stood, “I’m going to speak with the rest of the team, but I won’t tell them anything I don’t think is pertinent to the case.” Which was her way of saying ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ “Stay in here as long as you need, Spence,” she offered before walking out, shutting the door tightly behind her.
He thought of the last night you were together. Spencer tried to check in with you, he told you that if your job ever became too much, you just had to tell him, and he’d be there. What he neglected to tell you was that he was beginning to feel like your job was too much for him.
You had given him the opportunity to hold you close, and instead, he let you slip through his fingers.
Opening his fist, he looked down at your rings and the indent they had left on his palm, slipping them back into his pocket before he walked over to the roundtable room. Everyone paused what they were doing to look up at him.
Spencer just shrugged and looked at Emily, “I can’t just do nothing.”
In response, Emily nodded solemnly and suggested he go through the case files with Matt.
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It had been hours. The sun had set, jackets had been shed, and takeout had been ordered. The clock behind him showed it was nearly midnight, meaning it had been almost two days since anyone had last heard from you.
“Oh god,” Penelope said, her voice cutting into the thick silence of the roundtable room. Her fingers began frantically typing on her laptop.
Spinning in the office chair, Spencer wheeled over so he could look at the screen, vaguely aware of Emily hovering above him, “What is it? What did you find?”
She hit the keyboard so hard he thought they might break, but she answered, “The trauma center at Johns Hopkins reported a Jane Doe brought in a few hours ago. She matches Y/N’s description.”
“Did they run prints?” Andi asked, of course, there would be red tape if the hospital tried to run your prints, seeing as you were undercover.
Another tap and dozens of files opened, “It looks like she went right into surgery. Uh, the EMTs reported she was listing off a string of numbers when they brought her in… 265D019Z?”
Spencer swallowed thickly, “That’s Y/N’s badge number.”
Shaking her head, JJ looked over at the map of DC on the wall, “It’s a two-hour drive to Baltimore from here.”
“But it’s a thirty-minute flight, Reid, Tara, Swann, and Alvez go. The rest of us will look into what happened from here,” Emily doled out responsibilities, nodding at everyone as the team broke.
Spencer stayed still, still looking at Penelope’s screen, his eyes flickering over the documents. Words jumped out at him, drugged, punctured, and knife. It made his stomach churn. How had you gotten to Baltimore? Your unit had you set up in an apartment near the Hill. When did you travel from the district to Baltimore?
The thirty-minute flight felt like it was hours long, the drive from the airstrip to the hospital dragged on, but thankfully Emily had called the hospital ahead of time to let them know who you were and who was coming for you.
A doctor stopped the four of you from going into the room, a police officer was already stationed outside of the room, and the blinds were closed. Please, Spencer wanted to plead, please just let me see her.
“She’s weak, she just came down from recovery and she hasn’t fully woken up yet,” the doctor said, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t in good faith let you go in there and badger her with questions. Not with no one in there to focus on her well-being,” she ordered. The doctor stared the four of them down with piercing gray eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer peeked through the doorway when a nurse exited your room. “She’s my wife, I’ll advocate for her,” he responded, hoping the doctor would let him through. He could feel Tara and Luke staring, but he didn’t care.
Nodding, the doctor continued sizing Reid up, “Alright, but just you, for now. She’s not awake enough to be questioned anyway.” Stepping to the side, the doctor let Spencer through before blocking the doorway to everyone else.
In the worst way possible, you took his breath away. Your skin was sallow, you had an IV, nasal cannula, and a chest tube out the left side. Walking to your right, he took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your bloodied knuckles – evidence that you had put up one hell of a fight. “Oh sweetheart, what did they do to you?” He whispered even though he knew you wouldn’t answer.
Reaching over you, he smoothed your hair from your face, your skin was clammy, probably as a result of blood loss. It looked like they were still transfusing, so you had probably lost a considerable amount of blood.
Shuffling the seat closer to you, Spencer took your hand in his. The doctor came back in holding a tablet, “Dr. Reid?”
He hummed in response, not daring to take his eyes off of you. “What happened to her? Why did she need surgery?”
“She had been bleeding out in an alley, according to the police officers who reported to the scene. The other agents are talking to them now,” the doctor said, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “She had been stabbed several times in the upper left side, we went in to repair damage to her spleen, liver, and lung. There was some strain to her heart, it appears she was drugged before she was stabbed.”
He intently watched the steady rise and fall of your chest before he spoke up again, “Is she going to be okay?”
Setting the tablet down, the doctor paused before answering, “We’ll know more when she wakes up.”
Spencer leaned back in the chair, finally taking his eyes off of you and looking at the doctor, “Was there anything… did they…” He felt ridiculous, having spent the better part of his adult life in the BAU, and he couldn’t even put the words together.
To his relief, the doctor shook her head, “There were no injuries that suggested she was sexually assaulted.”
Reading the doctor’s badge, Spencer nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Herman.”
“Hit the call button when she wakes up, we’ll need to evaluate her pain and other treatment,” the doctor said, gathering her things before walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind her.
Spencer kept his eyes on you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, every once in a while, his phone rang, but he didn’t have the energy to talk on the phone. When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the messages.
Penelope Garcia: How is she? Spencer Reid: Still sleeping. Penelope Garcia: How are you? Spencer Reid: Not sure.
Setting his phone on the table, screen down, he watched you again, every once in a while, your nose would twitch, or your eyes would flutter. Every time he would hold his breath, hoping you’d open your eyes.
He waited, and about an hour after he had arrived, a small, keening noise came from you. His head snapped up at the sound, your eyes were still closed, but you were moving. “Y/N?” He whispered hesitantly, not wanting to wake you up if you weren’t ready. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, not sure if he should keep waiting or if he should hit the call button.
You were muttering something, talking to someone in your sleep, when suddenly you jerked away. Instinctively, Spencer put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from tearing your stitches, and it was that touch that caused your eyes to snap open. “No, no, no, no,” you babbled, frantically looking around the hospital room.
“Y/N,” Spencer said, keeping his hands on your shoulders, “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”
With wide eyes, you looked up at him and mouthed the word ‘Baltimore.’ As if you were trying to figure out how you had ended up in Baltimore, something the BAU still hadn’t figured out. “I thought I…” Your voice was nothing more than a rasp, but with the bruises he could now see littering your neck, that didn’t surprise him much. “Did you see it?”
Spencer pushed the call button without you noticing, “Did I see what, love?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he gently sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.
You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room, “Is Andi here?" Your voice was tight, like you were struggling to breathe. "I need to talk to Andi.”
Helplessly, Spencer watched as the number signifying your heart rate jumped, “Not just yet, alright?” He said, looking up when the doctor and a nurse came through the door.
The doctor introduced herself and started trying to get you to even out your breathing, one of the monitors was beeping like crazy until the nurse hit a button on it.
All he could do was watch, making sure he didn’t get in the way. Listening in to words about medications and making a mental note to research everything. “How’s your pain, Y/N? On a scale from one through ten.” The doctor asked, standing at the foot of the bed.
“Like a seven? When I breathe it’s more like a nine,” you answered, every word was strained. The doctor flashed a light in your eyes, “That isn’t helping,” you said through gritted teeth.
The doctor said something to the nurse, prompting her to nod before pushing something through your IV. After a few moments, Spencer watched as your heart rate lowered and your body visibly relaxed into the mattress. You nodded softly when the nurse asked if that was better.
Dr. Herman left and the nurse scrawled some notes down on your chart, introducing herself as Amelia before she left as well.
“Oh no,” you whispered, looking in the direction of the door. “Is the whole BAU here? How badly did I fuck up?”
Quickly, Spencer shook his head, “You didn’t, at all. It’s just me, Tara, and Luke,” he tried to reassure you as best he could without knowing the full story. “Do you feel up to talking?” He asked, smoothing your hair away from your face.
You nodded gently, “I need to talk to Andi. Alone, if it’s okay with you.”
“I can wait right outside in the hallway,” he offered, holding your hand in his and skimming the pad of his thumb over top of your knuckles.
You hummed contentedly, “Could you see if I can have water?”
Grateful to have something to do, Spencer stood up, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the room, garnering the attention of the agents who were waiting in the hallway, all of them staring at Spencer expectantly, “Andi, she wants to talk to you.”
The Unit Chief nodded and disappeared into the room, leaving the door open just a crack.
He was gone for three minutes, that was the time it took him to walk to the nurses’ station and ask if you were allowed liquids and back, but when he returned the door to your room was wide open. “Where did they go?” He asked, looking over at Tara.
She was still leaning against the taupe hospital walls before nodding in the direction of the red exit sign, “Swann was in there for maybe two minutes before she came out in a huff, she took Alvez with her.” Lewis spoke calmly like it didn’t necessarily mean anything to her.
But it did to him. Walking back into your room, he stood at the side of your bed, “What did you tell Andi that you didn’t want me hearing?”
“Huh?” You sounded tired – rightfully so. Your pupils were dilated, which told Spencer that the drugs that the doctors had given you were working.
It comforted him that you weren’t in as much pain, but you were still hiding something from him. “You asked me to leave while you talked to Andi because you didn’t want me to hear what you were telling her. What did you tell her?”
Your face softened as your eyes filled with a different kind of hurt, “Don’t profile me.” You were too tired to hide the pain in your voice.
He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Don’t lie to me,” He countered. You were lying by omission, but what was worse was that you might’ve been putting yourself in danger.
“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered.
Spencer’s chest tightened as he watched your eyes fill with tears, he sat down on the edge of your bed and took your hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think I’d leave you, darling?”
Your eyes were half-closed, “because you…” your voice trailed off and he squeezed your hand to get your attention. “When Scratch had Emily, you wanted to kill him,” you murmured.
The air had been knocked out of his lungs. You hadn’t been talking about a divorce. You were saying that you could identify your assailant, and you didn’t want Spencer to know. “I won’t go,” he whispered, “I’ll be right here.”
“It was Jake,” you mumbled, barely able to open your mouth as you fought your exhaustion.
That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He swallowed thickly, “Jake did this to you?” He asked slowly, looking at your hand, your fingers intertwined.
Minutely, you shook your head, “Jake blew my cover, Spence.” Yawning, you proceeded to mumble about him doing it on purpose.
Untangling your fingers, Spencer reached out and smoothed your hair away from your forehead, “Get some sleep, angel. I love you.”
You hummed an ‘I love you’ back, and the next moment your eyes were shut.
A nurse came in and asked for a moment while she checked the output of your chest tube, ushering Spencer and Tara out. “Okay, I’ll bite, who’s Jake?” Tara asked, putting a hand on her hip as she looked expectantly at Reid.
“Jake is her partner. When she’s not undercover and just out in the field, they’re partners,” Spencer explained.
Tara pursed her lips thoughtfully, “So, he would’ve known that she was undercover.”
Nodding as the newly added weight of the situation threatened to pull him down, Spencer turned and faced you, watching as the nurse examined you as you slept. “He blew her cover on purpose,” he reached up and rubbed his eye. Jake knew exactly what he was doing when he blew your cover, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you begged Spencer not to leave you.
“We have to go back in and ask her more questions,” Tara said.
Usually, Spencer agreed with Tara, but not this time. He saw the monitors you were hooked up to, he read your chart, and he watched the concerned looks on the nurses’ faces. They all told him that you weren’t stable enough to be speaking, let alone a cognitive interview. “No,” Spencer said finally.
Clearing her throat lightly, Tara stood next to him in the doorway, “We can’t let them get away, Reid.”
“And I can’t lose her,” he rebutted, ignoring the way his voice broke in his desperation. 
Stepping back slightly, the other agent nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll call Emily. You go sit with her.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice; he pulled a chair up impossibly close to your bedside and draped his jacket over the back of it before loosening his tie and sitting down.
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You
When you woke up, it was still dark outside, but the bright lights of the hospital room made it hard for you to get any real rest. You were pleased to find that, true to his word, Spencer was right next to you when he woke up.
He was sleeping, resting his head on his hand with his wrist bent awkwardly. “Spence,” You whispered, clearing your throat, “Spencer.” You couldn’t reach out to touch him, but you wanted to wake him up, so his wrist wasn’t sore.
Jolting awake, he looked at you, “Hey, did you just wake up? How do you feel?”
It was a weird question, you felt like an absolute dumpster fire. “Better,” you whispered, “less hurt, achier. Sore. I don’t know, my head feels fuzzy,” you rambled, trying to move higher up on the hospital bed, but being limited by the chest tube. “How long do I have to have it?” You asked, staring at the plastic tubing as if you could make it go away via the power of suggestion.
“At least through the night, but it could be longer,” he said, reaching over and smoothing over the edges of your blanket. “Do you know what they gave you?” Spencer asked, shaking out his wrist.
You hummed in response, “No, it was intravenous though. They were big on amphetamines, but it didn’t feel like a stimulant. Benzos maybe,” you told him, your voice was soft. The pain in your throat had subsided after being intubated during surgery, but you were still swollen from when Cal grabbed you.
None of this made sense to you. The one thing that bothered you more than anything else was why Cal stopped when Jake said to. It couldn’t have been as simple as the money.
Spencer must’ve noticed you burrowing into your memories, “You remember everything?” He asked gently.
He knew what he was implying, in more cases involving severe trauma, victims generally remember everything or remember nothing. It was lucky for law enforcement when they remembered, but bad for the victims. Bad for you. “Mostly,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.
“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he tried to reassure you, reaching out and taking your hand in his.
You hummed, “I don’t remember anything after they drugged me, just the stuff before. Just the…” Your voice trailed off as you returned to your confusion. “Who’s still here that I can talk to?”
He squeezed your hand comfortingly, “Do you feel up to it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice,” you answered him despondently.
Spencer nodded before he got up from his chair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he stepped out into the hallway and let Tara in.
The agent smiled at you gently, “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asked, sitting down at a free chair at the end of your hospital bed, leaving the chair at your side available for Spencer to return to.
You gave your best attempt at returning the smile before you answered, “I think I’m going to make it.”
As Spencer sat back down next to you, placing a water cup on your bedside table, Tara opened a file and looked through it, “Can you start by telling me a little bit about your assignment? You were undercover as… Barbara?” She read from the file.
Nodding slowly, you held out your hand for Spencer to hold, “Yeah, but they called me Babs.”
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Three days ago...
You shifted self-consciously in the gold dress. It was a silky, slippery number that displayed more than you particularly liked. Spencer would probably like it, but he’d hate how uncomfortable you were in it.
Inadvertently, you smiled at just the thought of your husband. It was late, so he was probably at home, reading next to the fireplace. Maybe he was on a case, off somewhere in the United States and saving lives.
It had been twenty-nine days since you had last seen him.
“You look gorgeous tonight, Babs,” Johnathan McCallister, better known as Cal, told you, reaching out and placing a hand on either one of your shoulders before placing a kiss on both cheeks.
Bashfully, you smiled at him, “You’re too good to me, Cal. I can’t believe you got me in!” Deep down, you knew tonight could be the night, you would be able to take down The Program. At least the D.C. chapter of it.
When it was over, you could be Y/N Reid again, instead of Barbara McFarston.
The Program took women around your age and sold them into sex slavery. The chapter in Washington D.C. was one of the most active, which made sense when you looked around the room and saw a majority of the people were elected officials – men and women alike.
Andi Swann had assured you that taking down this chapter would create a domino effect, causing the other chapters to topple. According to her, if you could take down D.C., Miami, and Los Angeles, The Program would most likely cease to exist.
Turning to ask Cal about the selection tonight, you were startled to see familiar gray eyes on your companion’s other side. You felt your façade slip, but only for a second before you pasted a brilliant smile back on your face.
You tilted your head to the side, “And who might you be?” You asked Jake, wondering if Andi had sent him in to get a status report on you.
“Jake Cohn,” he answered, and goosebumps spread over your exposed skin at his answer. He should’ve said William Jacoby, that was his identity for this case.
In horror, you watched as Jake leaned in to whisper something in Cal’s ear, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. You bit your tongue as Cal wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in tightly, “Let’s talk.”
You stumbled a little over your own feet and looked at Jake with wide eyes, the leader forcefully shoved you into a private room, one that would probably light up like a Christmas tree under a blacklight. “What’s wrong, Cal?” You asked, standing up straight.
He reached over and grabbed the back of your neck, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck in his fist. The force of it made you scrunch your shoulders up, “You’re a fucking fed?” He seethed, tossing you to the ground in one swift movement.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to convince him. Tried to flip the script so that Jake was the liar instead of you.
Cal grabbed your throat next, holding you down on a booth seat. “Oh, Y/N… Jake’s been one of my best employees for years.” He said, chuckling at the betrayal in your eyes, he only laughed more when you kneed him in the gut. “Oh, I like it when they fight back.”
You shut your eyes tightly as you heard the clinking of his belt buckle, but they snapped back open when you heard the word, “Stop.”
“What? Did you want first go on her?” Cal asked, wiping his cheek – you must’ve scratched him in your struggle.
Jake cleared his throat and met your eyes, “We should keep her clean, you know?” He said, and for a moment you thought he was actually trying to help you, “Think about how much a clean fed would go for here. Especially in D.C.”
And just like that, your hopes were dashed, “he’s right,” you told Cal, trying to formulate a plan.
“Shut up, whore,” Cal spat, causing you to involuntarily flinch.
At least there’s nothing he could call you that you hadn’t heard before, in your line of work, people got very creative.
Cal looked at you, inspecting your neck where he had grabbed you before, “You’ll make me a lot of money, won’t you?” He said, rubbing a hand up and down your arm soothingly before poking you with a needle.
Your legs gave out beneath you, but Jake caught you before you hit the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d do this. I thought he’d kick you out, but I didn’t think…”
Looking up at him, your throat burned, and you weren’t sure if you were going to cry or throw up, but you shut your eyes. “No, you didn’t.” You don’t just casually tell the leader of a sex trafficking ring that the person with them is an FBI agent.
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Present
“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Tara asked, scribbling something down in your file.
You nodded absentmindedly, “I think…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at Spencer, “I think Jake might’ve been in charge the whole time. Pulling the strings from behind the curtain while he waited for the perfect time to catch me off guard. That’s the only reason Cal would’ve backed off when Jake told him to,” You proposed your theory, not missing the way Spencer was holding your hand a little tighter than before.
Tara’s brows were raised, “Jake Cohn has worked in the bureau for almost a decade, it would be hard for him to evade detection for that long.”
“But he knows exactly how to evade it,” you rebutted. “He’d know all of the tricks from Sex Crimes and all of my tricks. He- He set me up,” you realized.
Spencer turned around and looked at your monitor, “Okay, let’s take a break. We can talk more later.”
Getting up, Tara let Spencer know she was going to call the rest of the team before she stepped back into the hallway.
“My chest hurts,” you said, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.
In response, Spencer smoothed your hair back in an attempt to comfort you. “Your heart is racing,” he whispered, “Take a deep breath, okay?”
You nodded slowly, breathing in deeply through your nostrils and letting the air collect in your lungs before blowing it out your mouth. Looking up at Spencer, worry plain in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you came to a decision, “Spence?”
He bowed slightly closer to you so he could hear you better, “What is it, love?” He moved his hand, so it was gently cupping your cheek.
Leaning into his touch, you whispered, “It’s too much.” The only thing you had left was to hope he knew what you were talking about, the words were too hard right now, but you felt them contributing to the burning in your chest.
“Okay,” he answered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about disappointing anyone.”
You practically melted back into the hospital bed; the weight of your job eased off of you. Nodding, you closed your eyes, “It’s good, this is good. I just feel crazy, but a good crazy.”
Spencer smiled at you, “Okay crazy,” he whispered, “I’m going to-“ He was abruptly cut off by his phone ringing, furrowing his brows, he swiped the screen and held the phone up to his ear, “Hey, JJ.”
Cocking your head to the side, you tried to listen to JJ’s side of the conversation, but either she was speaking quietly, or Spencer had his phone volume really low. From the way Spencer’s jaw tightened, you knew that this couldn’t be anything good.
He looked at you before looking at the door, “Do you know where?” He said in a tone entirely unfamiliar to you, it was low and steely. Reaching over you, he nimbly pressed the call button on your bed, “Okay, keep me updated.”
“Spencer, what is going on?” You asked as the nurse came into your room, faltering for a moment as she looked at the two of you.
Placing a hand on the bar of your hospital bed, Spencer looked at the nurse, “Do you have somewhere secure she can be moved to?”
The nurse looked shellshocked, surely the FBI occupying the hospital wasn’t an everyday occurrence, “I don’t… I don’t think so?” She seemed unsure of herself.
“Spencer,” you repeated his name.
He turned to look at you, “Jake’s here and he’s looking for you.” Turning back to the nurse, he pointed at you, “She has to be moved.”
“I don’t… I’m just a student, my preceptor is taking a break. I could try to find-“ The nurse stammered nervously. “We don’t usually just move people.”
Nothing about this situation was usual, but one look at Spencer told you this was life or death. Your life or your death. You sighed in defeat, “This is really going to suck.” Reaching over to your side, you gripped the tube that had been draining blood from outside your lung and pulled it out. Like ripping off a band-aid.
In the process, you tore the stitches holding it in place and set off all kinds of alarms, leading to a crowd of nurses and doctors charging into the room.
As someone held pressure down on where you were bleeding, someone said something about moving you to a sterile procedure room, and the nursing student trailed along, whispering “That was the stupidest smart thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”
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Everything was blurry when you woke up next and, through the blinds, you could see that the sun was finally rising. The warm, orange light peeking through like lines on a piece of paper.
“Hey,” Spencer said from right next to you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered.
You looked away from him, back towards the blinds, “Will you open them?” You rasped, your throat felt raw, and your body felt heavy.
He got up and ambled over to the window, twisting the mechanism until the sun poured into your room. “How are you feeling?”
“Heavy,” you whispered, the mental weight of the past several days was threatening to take you down, but physically you felt like Atlas himself, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Spencer hummed in response, “They sedated you, standard procedure for people who rip their own chest tubes out.” He adjusted the way your gown rested on your shoulders, “Luckily you didn’t do too much damage.”
You took a deep breath and leaned your head so you could look out the window. The outside felt so foreign to you now, you couldn’t remember the last time you had breathed real, fresh air. “So, what is the damage?” Your voice was little more than a murmur but with just the two of you in your room, it wasn’t hard to hear.
“You’re going to be fine; they think the tube can go later today. Then they’ll evaluate whether enough you’re strong enough to go home, it’ll probably be another couple of days,” He explained to you, matching your gentle tone. “Johnathan McCallister is in custody, and Jake Cohn is dead,” he told you, studying your face for any kind of reaction.
Closing your eyes, you felt white hot tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, laughing a little despite yourself. He probably thought you were losing it, crying over the death of someone who had nearly had you murdered.
The edge of your mattress dipped down slightly, and you opened your eyes to see Spencer sitting next to you, “You don’t need to be sorry, my love.” Gently, he rested a hand on your hip, skimming his thumb over the rough fabric of your hospital gown, “He was like family to you. I’m not sorry he’s dead – I’m not. I am sorry for that loss, though.”
Nodding, you felt it as your face crumpled, leading Spencer to lean down and hug you as best he could. “I’m sorry I scared you,” you said as he pulled away.
Your furrowed your brows in confusion as he reached into his pocket and produced your wedding ring, taking your left hand, he slid the rings on, “For better or for worse, right?”
A small smile grew on your face as the gem on your finger shimmered in the morning light, “for richer or for poorer,” you continued.
“In sickness and in health,” Spencer whispered, eyes flickering around the hospital room.
You reached up a shaky hand and cupped his cheek with your palm, “to love and to cherish.” You said, feeling a dopey, lovesick grin blooming on your face.
He turned his head and kissed the center of your palm, “until parted by death,” he finished, taking your hand in his.
“No dying,” you insisted, feeling your energy begin to drain, you started to understand why the doctors didn’t want you going home for a few days.
Spencer hummed in response, “You almost did. If you hadn’t been found when you were-“ his voice broke off and you had to tear your eyes away from his for a moment. “I still can’t believe you chose that,” he whispered, looking at you like you hung the moon.
Shrugging as if it was nothing, you melted back into the pillows, “I had a split second to weigh my options – get sold into sex slavery or get stabbed in the chest.”
“A catch-22,” he nodded, wrapping his head around your impossible decision. You couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take until the fear in his eyes left.
You shifted a little in the hospital bed, the sheets rustling as you did, “We get it, you’ve read Joseph Heller.”
He smiled at that, the light teasing seemed to bring brightness to his face, “What is it about blood loss that makes you think you’re funny?”
Laughing lightly, you squeezed his hand as tightly as you could manage, “I am funny. And I’m tired.”
“Go back to sleep then, baby,” he said softly, “it’ll all be here when you wake up.”
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There was a party in your hospital room. It started with just Emily, coming in because you were finally up to seeing anyone other than Spencer, and it ended up being the entire BAU.
Someone had gone to the apartment and gathered clothes for you so that, once your chest tube was removed, you could put on real clothes. So now you were sitting up, wearing sweatpants and a ratty old college sweatshirt, and laughing with the BAU. You were leaning heavily on Spencer, who was also sitting on your hospital bed, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with keeping you steady.
Luckily for you, no one in the BAU wanted to ask about what had happened on your assignment, they were more interested in the rings that adorned your and Spencer’s fingers.
“I still can’t believe you two secretly got married,” Penelope said. “Of all of the times for me to not answer my phone.”
Next to her, Luke shrugged, “Honestly, I can believe it. It feels like a very Y/N and Reid thing to do.”
Gently, Spencer rubbed your back. His hovering was quickly going to become insufferable, but right now you were welcoming every touch with open arms.
“Well, we’ll have a party for the two of you. When you’re up for it, of course,” JJ said, smiling from where she was standing next to Emily.
You wanted to shake your head and tell them that it really wasn’t necessary, but asking the BAU to refrain from throwing a party was like asking a shark to stop swimming. Instead of debating, you just smiled and bobbed your head.
Eventually, Andi showed up, just as you knew she would. “Hey, guys,” Emily nodded in the direction of the doorway, “Why don’t we go raid the hospital cafeteria?”
After a few more hugs, including a lingering one from Garcia, the BAU, save for your husband, filtered out, and Andi made her way to the foot of your bed. “Hey,” you said, your voice was soft.
Nine years. You had spent nine years in the sex crimes unit. Spencer had done the math, you’d spent approximately seventy-six percent of that time undercover, missing birthdays, holidays, not ever really looking forward to the future. Until now.
You, the most decorated member of the sex crimes unit, were leaving.
Suspiciously, you eyed the files in Andi’s arms, one was a case file, the other a plain manila folder. She silently handed you the case file, and you shared a look with Spencer before flipping it open. “The Program is gone?” You asked, your eyes skimming the folder.
Swann nodded, her brown hair swaying with the movement, “The arrest of the leader of the D.C. chapter greatly contributed to that, but it was the death of the ringleader that took the remainder of The Program down.”
Closing your eyes, you nodded as you tried to process what she was telling you. Jake had been in charge all along. “Andi, I-“
“It was your intel that did it,” she cut you off. “From your last several assignments, everything you collected directly contributed to the downfall of this trafficking network. One of the largest networks the FBI has ever seen.”
She handed you the next file, labeled with only your name. You flipped it open, well aware that Spencer was reading from over your shoulder. “I don’t qualify for retirement,” you told her, furrowing your eyebrows, and looking at the papers in front of you. You didn’t qualify for retirement, and yet, you were looking at a retirement offer.
Your unit chief nodded understandingly, “I pulled some strings, with some help. Collectively, Prentiss and I know a lot of people.”
Spencer placed a supportive hand on your back, and you looked up at Andi. “I’m only thirty-two?” You asked, it wasn’t a clarification, it was a question.
“And yet,” she answered, “you’ve done more for the Bureau than most agents could hope to do in their whole career. This plan came from the director, Y/N. He wanted you to have it.”
Shaking your head, you handed the folder over to your husband so he could look through it. “I don’t… can I think about it?”
“He’ll want an answer soon but talk it over and give me a call when you’ve come to a decision,” she said, grabbing her things and making her way to the door. “And Y/N?”
You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, Andi?”
She smiled at you, a rare, real smile from her, “Make the right decision for you. You have a small army ready to support you through everything.”
Slowly, your gaze followed her out the door, waiting until you heard the latch of the door secure. Spencer handed the folder back to you, “What do you want to do?”
You flipped through the folder again, it was a lot of money, and there were a few different distribution options, but it was more than you felt you’d ever need. “I don’t really feel like I deserve this,” you whispered, reaching your hand up and rubbing the back of your neck. “The Bureau doesn’t offer early retirement like this, not without extenuating circumstances,” you continued.
“They did it with Hotch,” Spencer said, reading the file over your shoulder.
Shaking your head, you leaned over to look at him, “That was way different, Haley was murdered by a serial killer.”
Spencer sighed, “I think you’re selling yourself short, darling. The Program was trafficking almost 12,000 people across the country. That’s almost 70 percent of the yearly total trafficking victims. You took them down,” he told you earnestly.
Your shoulders slouched forward, “I didn’t do it alone, though.”
“Didn’t you, though? They sent you in with no communication device, no emergency signal, and information that wasn’t even true. Your unit told you Johnathan McCallister was the leader of the ring, but it ended up being a decorated agent and you’re the one who figured that out,” Spencer spoke emphatically. “You almost died in the process, and now there are thousands of victims who are going to go home – all thanks to you.”
Wiping at your eyes, you looked at your husband, “You’re biased.” That felt true, but Spencer was the person who knew you best in the world.
“What’s holding you back?” He murmured gently, sweeping strands of your hair behind your ears.
Smiling unsurely, you closed your eyes, “Fear of the future. In the past nine years, the longest I’ve ever been home was four weeks. I don’t… What do you want me to do?”
He shook his head slowly, “it’s not my decision.” A diplomatic answer, you should’ve guessed.
“But what do you want me to do?” You pressed.
Sighing, you watched him weigh his options, “If my choices are you going back out into the field and getting hurt again, where maybe it doesn’t have this good of an outcome, or you, safe at home, where I get to see you more than approximately three months a year, then the choice is clear.”
When he laid it out for you like that, it was pretty clear. “Maybe I could finally see what all the BAU spouses are talking about. You know, how you’re never home,” you said. Some part of you always felt disconnected from the other BAU family members, Spencer wasn’t the one who was never home, you were.
Spencer laughed lightly, “We could celebrate your birthday together.” That was the one day you always missed. Almost six years together, and something always came up on your birthday.
“I’ve never had this before,” you whispered, there was still something about it that felt tentative, almost frail.
Smilingly softly, Spencer reached out and took your hand in his, “Had what before?”
You beamed, “A future to plan.” Everything was always laid out for you, every day was spent waiting for the next directive, a new assignment. “I mean, not in nine years.”
There were always dreams, late-night murmurs with Spencer about a house with a yard and kids running around, but they were just dreams. The nights when you were able to sleep next to each other. “Do you have plans for us?”
Nodding rapidly, you answered, “Oh yeah, you and me, I’ve got big plans for us.”
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
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can you pleaseeeee do a chris sturniolo x fem reader where she invites him to meet her family? maybe she has a big family and he’s a little nervous to impress them all? i hope that doesn’t that dumb <33
meeting the family // bf!chris
super soft chris
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“Baby?” my boyfriend’s voice calls from our shared bed.
I’m standing in the bathroom, drying my face with a towel while he scrolls through his phone. “Yes?”
“What time are you parents getting in today?”
Chris has been overloaded with anxiety about meeting my family since we started dating months ago. I had moved to LA for college, stumbled into Chris through mutual friends, and with him knowing that I have family on the opposite coast that he has been able to get out of having the awkward first interaction with for months, he’s beginning to panic now that it’s coming up.
He has no real reason to worry though. My parents have always been pretty casual and free to let me do what I want, make my own mistakes. But Chris was never a mistake, and while he’s paranoid about them liking him, I have plenty of confidence that today will go well. 
They’re flying in from my hometown to visit me over a short break I have from school. I was flying back home so much that they decided they wanted to come to the west coast to see me for a change. 
“2, but they’re Ubering to their hotel so my sister can sleep.”
My sister, who is 4, was, in the nicest way, a complete and total freak accident. 
I was an only child my entire life, and when my sister popped out, our age gap was so evident that I would often get asked if I was a single teenage mom when I would take her to the store with me. 
Their day of traveling with her must have been hell. It’s rough enough to go from coast to coast as is, but with a whiny 4-year-old who just wants to sleep the whole time but probably can’t find comfort on the plane, I doubt it was peaceful. 
I can hear the bed creak a bit as Chris gets up and stumbles into the bathroom. His hair is a mess, curls in every direction. His eyelids are heavy, and he drops his head on my shoulder to show me just how exhausted he is. His swollen lips kiss my neck as his arms wrap around my waist. He smiles at me through the mirror, places another kiss to my cheek, then turns around to the shower, turning on the water. 
“You feeling any better about the big introduction?” I ask, earning a groan in response.
“Are you trying to make me feel more nervous?”
“I’m trying to make you feel better.” 
He peels his shirt off and tosses it to the ground. “I’m happy to be meeting them, but no, I’m still scared shitless.” 
While he showered, I talked to my mom to coordinate our plans for the rest of the day. By the time he was back to our room, our day had been decided. 
“My parents are going to Uber back to their hotel so my sister can take a nap, and then we’re going to take them to dinner,” I relay the plans back to him. 
He nods as he puts on a fresh shirt and pants. “Sounds good.”
We go about the rest of our day before heading to the hotel my family will be spending the next few days at. Chris’ hand taps the wheel nervously. I offered to hold his hand, but he insisted that he was too worked up to feel comfortable holding mine, as his hand was probably too sweaty. 
I couldn’t help but find it adorable how much he cared. I knew he really had nothing at all to be worried about. The idea of him caring so much though was so sweet, and I felt really lucky that I had been with someone who wanted to make a lasting impression. It made me think he wanted to make sure they liked him enough for him to be in my life for a long time. 
When Chris pulled into the hotel parking lot, he let out a deep breath.
“Rainbows, butterflies, unicorns,” he muttered, trying to calm himself down.
A cackle left my mouth at the sound of him.
His eyes shot open and he glared at me. “Stop laughing!”
“Chris, this is ridiculous! You’re getting yourself worked up for nothing.”
He stared at me with a blank expression like that was enough to challenge my words. 
“Babe,” I started. “My dad is as protective as any dad is, but he’s a nice man and he cares much more about me being happy than anything else. He can only protect me so much from as far as we live anyway. My mom, she’s easy going and loves everyone. And my sister is 4 and will like you as long as you acknowledge her existence. You’re fine, let’s go.”
With that, I exit the car and head for the front doors. I hear Chris’ door close behind me and his footsteps follow. I lead Chris up to my family’s room, knocking a few times so they can let us in. 
The door swings open, revealing my mom. “Honey!” 
Before I can say anything, her arms are wrapped around me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Hi, mom. How was your flight?”
She let out a sigh. “Exhausting, but we made it. Your sister couldn’t fall asleep and complained about her ears hurting, so she took a nap for a bit when we got settled here and-”
“SISSY!”
The sound of my sister’s voice was enough to make my face light up. I squatted down to her height as she ran to me with her arms out. I hooked my hands under her arms and picked her up, holding her at my hip.
“Hey girly! I heard you didn’t have too much fun on your flight, huh?”
“Uh uh,” she said, shaking her head before resting it on my shoulder. 
I could sense her eyes on Chris, who had been standing behind me. After a few seconds, she started giggling. 
I bopped her up a bit so she could look at me. “What’s so funny?”
Her cheeks blushed as she pointed to Chris, then put her head back on my shoulder. 
“Ohhhhh,” I say, nodding at her as she hides from my boyfriend. “That’s Chris. He’s very nice.”
Chris waved his hand at her, smiling big enough for my sister to giggle again. 
“Why don’t you guys come in and sit down for a bit?” my mom suggested.
Carrying my sister still, I walked inside with Chris behind me and sat down on the bed. 
“Hi sweetheart,” my dad greeted me, kissing me on the head. He stuck his hand out to Chris, who wiped his hand on his pants before shaking my dad’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Chris.”
“Yeah– Um. You too,” Chris stumbled over his words.
In an attempt to let Chris relax a little, I sat my sister on my lap and said, “Why don’t you let Chris meet Bobo?”
Her eyes lit up and she jumped out of my lap, racing to the bed to grab her stuffed monkey.
She bolted back to Chris, holding her monkey proudly in front of him. 
“This is Bobo?” he asked, an element of excitement in his tone that was enough to make any kid think that what they had to share was golden. “Can I hold him?”
She nodded, smiling. 
“Wowwwwwww. Did you know monkey’s are my favorite? I had a lot when I was little.”
Her jaw dropped to the floor, making both my parents laugh. 
“Bobo was with me… the whole time… on the plane,” she said. She spoke like she was out of breath, like the excitement was too much for her. “I was scared of the plane and mommy said Bobo would protect me!”
“I bet he did!” Chris nodded. “He looks like he has that power.”
I couldn’t help but smile at Chris and my sister interacting, as well as how he had finally loosened up and gotten comfortable around my family. While we continued to talk, my sister climbed up on his lap, and I fucking melted at how fast he put his arms around her for support and helped her up. She put her head on his chest, and while holding Bobo, I could see just how tired she still was. 
“Uh oh,” my mom said. “Looks like she’s out again.”
All our eyes found my little sister passed out asleep on my boyfriend’s chest. He looked down to try to see for himself, but was blocked by the back of her head. 
My mom stood up with her phone. “This is too cute. Do you mind if I take a picture of you guys?”
Chris didn’t even respond. Instead he looked up at my mom with the biggest smile I’d ever seen, holding onto my sister. 
All his fears went away, and just like I thought, he was the perfect fit for this family. 
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