#everything else hurts so much too I don't think I can get up and go to the living room for dinner O(-(

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 94 (The Body in Brindleton Bay)

cw: dead body and a blood puddle, discolored / shadowed by the lighting, just to be less graphic tbh. For that reason I also don't zoom in on the body that closely, but text mentions who it is and there's no trick! That is who it is, even without a close-up!

Conrad met his young, eager partner, Zion Spangler, at the docks. His last partner, Josephine, had stuck around a few years longer than planned, but she was so close to retirement she deferred almost all her field work to Conrad and Zion. The sergeant liked the newly-minted detective's ambition and his instinct, and they approached the crime scene with caution.

A body laid at the edge of the pier in a pool of blood, already slightly washed away by the heavy, wet coastal snow of Brindleton Bay.

"The owners of the Salty Paw said someone knocked on their door about a body by their patio tables, but everyone was inside because of the cold and no one saw anything," explained Zion.

"Did you find any clues at the scene?"

"None. The snow washed away every footprint and fingerprint we might possibly find."

Zion got down on his knees to brush through the snow surrounding the body in search of clues. But Conrad took one look at the victim and knew exactly who they needed to look for. "Any ID on him?"

"Everything. Even his money. Vic's name is Jameson Bower."

No it wasn't. Not really. "Run that name through the database back at the station. Make sure he doesn't have any aliases, check his record."

Conrad could have offered to do it himself to cover his tracks. But he wanted to mentor Zion to be as good a detective as he could be, and he knew what the body of Jimmy Stefano represented. Surveying the grisly scene, his heart raced.

When Conrad backed out of the search for Rafa, Ximena called his bluff. This was his jurisdiction. He couldn't ignore a dead body connected to the cartel in Brindleton Bay. He didn't know whether Ximena wanted to hurt the cartel or bring him down, but she wouldn't let him walk away.

He'd all but asked for this when he agreed to meet her in this very spot months earlier, hoping he could get her to disappear by giving her what she wanted, helping her brother in the process. But Ximena hated to go quietly, and if he'd ignored her she wouldn't have let him be, either. It probably always would have come to this, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow.

He called Heather to check in. "Did you get to your parents'?"

"We're fine, Conrad. Lavender's asleep again and I'm just hanging out with Sammy." She tilted the camera on her phone to show off River and Cass' infant son, quietly drinking from a bottle. "Is the body related to the cartel?"

"It is."

"What are you going to tell your boss?"

"The truth."

"You could lose your job for sneaking around."

"Wouldn't I deserve it? I had to come clean to you first, and now it's time to come clean to everyone else."

"Conrad, I love you," she said. "I'm so mad at you for lying to me that I don't even know what else to say right now, but I need to be mad at you in one piece. We can talk more if you make it here this weekend."

"I love you, too." Zion called him then to return to the precinct. "I have to go."

As much as it burned to leave their conversation on that note, Ximena had forced his hand. If he didn't come clean to his coworkers and his boss, he'd lose his job. He might, anyway, but he couldn't move in shadows anymore.

With the scene documented and cleared and the body moved to the morgue, Conrad and Zion returned to the station. They worked through the night, and by morning it was obvious the victim was Jimmy Stefano, a low-level member of Los Tigres de Selva, one of the most violent cartels in Simlandia. "Do you think it's a new turf war?"

Conrad shook his head. "I don't think Los Tigres has operated out of Brindleton Bay for years."

Zion cocked his brow in confusion. "Well, what stopped them? They operate just fine out of everywhere else."

"They don't need Brindleton Bay when they've got hold of the ports in San Myshuno," he said, but his attention turned when their captain arrived. The man barely said hello, immediately shutting himself inside his office. Conrad didn't know if it was just that he'd had to come to work on a Saturday, or this specific case, but he had to come clean.

He knocked on the door. With a look, the captain waved him inside. "Sargent, you look tired." He laughed as if he'd made a joke.

"Been a long night."

The captain's expression changed. "Go ahead and shut the door, Sargent."

Conrad sat with an anxious expression, knees together, eyes down like he was about to be reprimanded in grade school. "About the docks victim, sir. I knew him."

The captain nodded plainly. "I read your file when I took over. But you're not the first cop who turned toward the law when they could have easily gone the other way."

"The thing is, I've been working a case under the table for a while now. I found Jimmy Stefano and filed a report against Ximena Bonilla."

"After everything done to bail you out and send you through the academy, you thought it was a good idea to investigate the cartel runner you once dated? For what reason?"

"She found my address, scared my fiancee. Ximena told me her brother was missing, and he and I were close. He was so young, and I wanted to help him."

"You didn't want to help San Myshuno PD? Ximena Bonilla's brother is a wanted man..."

"I would have told him to turn himself in and work a plea," he insisted. "My old precinct would look good, and I hoped Rafa could turn his life around with a little encouragement from someone other than his sister."

"Are you still in touch?"

"No, sir. I told her two days ago I was done searching for Rafa because I thought she was trying to trick me into investigating the cartel. Blocked her number. After the body showed up I tried the number I had but it's been disconnected."

"So she's the prime suspect."

"I think she might've figured out Jimmy talked to me and she wanted to get rid of him. If she didn't kill Jimmy herself - and she might have - I think she ordered the hit to draw me into an investigation against the cartel that could get me killed and endanger my family."

"Do you think she's working with Los Tigres?"

Conrad shrugged. "I don't know. I did a bit of digging and it looks like the cartel itself might be in a bit of disarray. Power vacuum after the murder of one of their higher ups (go on Frida!), so a turf war seems unlikely. I think the safest way to do this is to treat Ximena like a lone wolf. The cartel's not even supposed to be operating in Brindleton Bay these days."

"Since George Brindleton pulled his guys from the ports, they could have moved back in."

Conrad's stomach flipped. "George Brindleton?"

"George Brindleton lost his boats, but he didn't lose his security business. Pulled his men just before he left for Sulani. Said he was cutting costs at the port during the dead season, but I think he's just trying to remind us how important he is after his son went to prison. We upped patrol to try to deal with the lack of security down there, but his guys don't abide by any constitutional rights...I don't admit this outside these walls, but Brindleton's ports have always run better under private security."

"Was this before or after the restraining order I took out on him for Heather and the kids?"

The captain excused Conrad to think, soon calling him back with Zion and another officer who typically dealt with the press. "This is the plan. Our suspect is Ximena Bonilla, but we don't announce it. We look for her, or her brother, and no one else. We say the investigation is ongoing until we've found one or both of them. And Spangler, you're taking point on this one."

"Why me? Gordon's the sergeant."

"Gordon's too close to this one. I want him focused on looking for Rafa Bonilla, not Ximena, but he'll cooperate with you and help behind the scenes. She might try to reach out to him, and if she does, you'll be the first to know. And if you're not, he's a suspect, too." They nodded with understanding. "And Gordon? No more bullshit under the table or I'll put you on leave and find a way not to pay you."

Having worked through the night, Conrad relinquished his files to his mentee, but he left the precinct with a sense of unease. He still had a job, and he could still search for Rafa without needing to hide anything from his coworkers, but while Ximena was unaccounted for he would scarcely be able to relax.

After a nap in the break room, Conrad prepared to drive to Henford-on-Bagley and face his fiancee. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I reinstalled TOOL to place the body. The blood isn't placed underneath the victim properly, but I was working at the edge of what was visible in a fully zoomed out screen, and for my second ever placement of a build/buy item and first ever placement of the teleporter off a lot in-game, I'm happy enough with the fact it looks like he bled out from the knees. 🤷 Maybe he did, I don't know, I didn't get detailed about the condition of the body because it doesn't advance the plot. Who and why is more important than how.

WCIF Poses & CC? @simmerianne93's Injured poses pack #1, which is a great set - so cinematic. One of the injured poses has the victim with eyes closed and looks a little like EA's curled-up death animation to me, and that's the one I used. And Blood on the Floor from the There Will Be Blood set by Lore from SimsRebelCreators. Several swatches (including red!) and different spatter patterns if you need some blood for your storytelling!

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

mouthwashing responsibility au rambles below cut 🫡

(spoiler warning for the actual game obviously)

- even though jimmy got deservedly knocked out by anya and thrown into the cryopod early on, the crash still does happen. it's a freak accident this time, like maybe a piece of space debris just happened to hurtle right into them without time to dodge. it's like the tulpar is destined to crash. but this time it's a story about a group of people finding hope and strength in each other and finding what they themselves can be capable of in a time of crisis. btw i just mean curly, anya, swansea, and daisuke. i am NOT repenting jimmy. he ain't "fixing" shit.

- i'm sorry for frying curly again even though this is supposed to be an au with a happier ending 😭 the way his loss of autonomy reflects anya's own loss of it, making him feel firsthand the suffering she went through in a way, felt too important to just remove. curly's injuries aren't as terrible as in the original timeline since swansea rescued him earlier. and by "not as terrible" i mean he only loses a leg and not all of his limbs. he will get some function in his hands eventually and anya teaches him sign language to help him communicate (she teaches the others too).

- speaking of anya, she really shows her stuff as a nurse (even in the original timeline she does, managing to keep curly alive like that). she treats curly and swansea and is much more of a pillar of strength for the crew than she herself realizes. pre-crash and post-jimmy-getting-fired, she was able to relax and open up more with everyone, building a stronger bond. when the crash happens, anya is of course terrified and hella stressed, but now she knows she has people who have her back, and it helps. she can be more confident in herself without a certain someone being there to belittle and hurt her. this time when she has to deal with something difficult, something traumatizing, she has people to support her. in this au, she is not pregnant because if she was, i don't see how keeping the baby would be a good thing for her. and i don't want her to have to deal with that situation without the proper medical supplies on top of everything else. she's been through enough.

- btw there is no shipping in this au. i personally really don't see how it could happen between anyone on the crew. if there was some sort of spark between anya and curly, it's definitely gone now and won't happen again. the most they'll be are friends (although the friendship/trust will have to be built from the ground up again after everything that's happened with jimmy). the only ship here is the tulpar.

- i know daisuke is seen as a "dumb kid" but i really don't think that's the case. we are seeing him thru jimmy's perspective mostly after all and jimmy is the definition of an unreliable narrator. i headcanon daisuke as having adhd like me who tends to lose focus on tasks easily because your brain is just going 102929 miles a minute and wandering to all sorts of places like me. he feels like someone who doesn't exactly know where they want to go in life like me. also he's definitely a hawaii kid born and raised and talks pidgin sometimes like me except i lost the pidgin :(. i'm totally not projecting my asian ass on the asian boy or anything. BUT ANYWAY i wanted to give daisuke more stuff to do and a chance to prove to himself that he can do these things, he can step up. so that's partially why i made swansea burn his hands rescuing curly. daisuke can now be filled with Determination and be swansea's hands in repairing things as he heals. it's going to be hard and it's going to be frustrating for both parties and sometimes they'll get upset at each other. but it will inevitably be a great bonding experience for the two. i cannot resist the call for more father-son moments.

- swansea my beloved. i am so sorry for burning your beautiful hands please forgive 😔🙏 i have to make my faves suffer a little. swansea's hands will heal up eventually and he'll be able to use them again, but there will be scars. i think him having to guide daisuke with doing repairs n stuff on the ship as his hands recover gives him a mission. something to distract him from completely falling into despair and alcoholism. that man is hanging on by a thread but by god he's going to help get these kids through this. they've all grown closer since jimmy was sacked and swansea feels a sort of responsibility towards protecting anya, daisuke and curly as the oldest one there. it's the dad instincts y'know? on the real hard days, sometimes swansea thinks about cracking open a bottle of mouthwash, but he holds back because he feels he needs to stay strong for the crew. however he does have to learn that he can't shoulder everything and that he can rely on others. him having no choice but to have daisuke take over his tasks is a good way for him to learn that, i think. swansea is definitely a pillar of strength in this and the rest of the crew have a lot of affection for him (and vice versa even if swansea won't admit it). can you tell i really like swansea. he is such a foil to jimmy—a guy who has fucked up a lot in his life but actually acknowledges his mistakes and is trying his hardest to be a better person. aghh swansea i love you 💛💛

- after the crash happens, the cryopod room becomes inaccessible, so nobody is able to check on the state of jimmy in there. so they don't see that the crypod he's in eventually fails from damage and he escapes. this happens a couple weeks into the crash. jimmy is still pissed about everything and still can't see how he's done anything wrong (this is because he is a delusional asshole). in fact, he feels like he's the one who's been wronged and betrayed by everyone on the crew and he wants revenge. there will be a final confrontation between jimmy and the crew. spoilers: jimmy loses. i'm just undecided on who finishes it. it would be fitting if anya shot him, but i'm not sure that's something she'd necessarily want to do. she chose to be in the medical field after all. don't get me wrong, i think she would pull the trigger if it meant protecting the others. but i'd hate to have her kill, because even if jimmy deserves it, anya is a healer and would still probably feel guilty about it. i don't want to put even more shit on her plate. so i think swansea is the one to put jimmy down in the end. with the axe of course. i think he'd feel less guilty about doing it because it's something he's wanted to do since anya first told him about jimmy. oooh what if jimmy gets his hands on the gun, but daisuke tackles him, making him drop it, and anya gets it and shoots jimmy in the shoulder or leg or something to get him off of daisuke, and then swansea comes in with the axe to finish him off. that could be fun. that way anya won't have to actually kill but she'll still get to shoot jimmy. bless.

- the crew gets rescued eventually, but it's going to be a few months because pony express is a nightmare company. i'm honestly still not sure if pony express is even the one who will rescue them or even bother to look. i'm tempted to just have another ship happen across them by some miracle and help. real tempted to make that ship The Unreliable and turn this into a Mouthwashing x The Outer Worlds crossover quite honestly since both settings share similarities (megacorporations, cryosleep, etc). but idk. it's not like i can just write a fanfic or anything since writing is harder for me and who knows how long it will be before i even draw the idea. it's just yet another self-indulgent daydream for now.

[psikind]

girl help the disability is disabling me

[ramonathinks]

(18+, minors/blank accounts dni)

jealous ex husband gojo who just can't keep stand seeing you with someone else. he hates that you gave up on him, hates that you don't wear your ring anymore even though he does and he wears it proudly.

"you have a date tonight, the girls tell me." busted. you cringe and eye you little daughters, only six the both of them but you told them to keep quiet about the situation.

"yes..." you reply, anxiously awaiting his response.

you could just picture his face now, nose a bit flared and lips pursed. with clenched teeth he said, "alright, have fun." but it wasn't that simple.

he always kept close watch on you and it made you nervous with how simple it left the conversation. "well, i could come pick the girls up before then. about 8-ish?" he asks and you say yes before hanging up.

gojo was always too busy which was what led to the divorce. you'd both married young, 20 and stayed together since but when the girls turned 3 you had enough and just left. he wasn't being there enough for you or the girls and it hurt.

when he pulled up you cursed yourself for getting ready so early. your hair in long curls and a knee length skirt with a small slit on the left leg. he didn't bothering knocking or waiting for you to open the door, he had keys and you knew this so you continued with your makeup.

he was standing there watching you but you ignored him. or tried to but he walked closer and closer until he was right in your face. "how beautiful, you are." he held your jaw and forced you to look at him.

"why don't you ditch this date and come with me?" he asked, bringing your lower reign to his. "don't you miss me baby?" he nipped at your skin and the memories and feelings were coming back.

you had to be strong. you swallowed and pulled his back from you. "you have to stop this, im sure you have someone out there satoru, but she isn't me." you tried to walk off but he grabbed your wrist and brought you to your bedroom.

"y/n, so you think anyone can make you feel as good as i make you feel? don't you know i love you? my feelings never left and i know yours haven't." he rubs you through your panties and kisses you on your lips.

"everything can be different now." he promises, easing his way between your legs. his heavy cock entering you slowly, it was only the tip so far but it was splitting you open. you'd been without sex for two years and now tears were in your eyes.

"you think he can fill you up like me?" he adjusts himself and enters more of his cock into you. he was still so big, you were choking. you could feel him in your tummy and in your throat.

"you're always going to be mine, so stop running." he told you as he jerked his hips. "stop trying to let this go baby?"

"satoru—"

"mommy! the door!" one of the girls yelled.

"shh," satoru brought a finger to your lips and leaned forward to make love to your mouth. it was too much and you both were drooling after just a few minutes, he pulled himself out of you and looked at his wet cock.

"think about what i said." it was hard to forget. you clenched your legs together after you cleaned yourself up, not even wanting to face your date.

not even wanting to face your ex-husband either.

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

what do u mean the tasks i didn't write down and that i did more than once don't count to be checked off bc i didn't write them down

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 / 𝒀𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  i can't stop thinking about you even when i try.  ❜ ❛  every time i see you, it's like my heart skips a beat.  ❜ ❛  i never realized how much i needed you until you weren't there.  ❜ ❛  do you ever feel like there's something missing ... like a piece of your heart is somewhere else?  ❜ ❛  i wish i had the courage to tell you how i feel.  ❜ ❛  if only you knew how much you truly mean to me.  ❜ ❛  do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were different between us?  ❜ ❛  sometimes i wonder if you ever think about me the way i think about you.  ❜ ❛  i had a lot of dreams about you recently.  ❜ ❛  somehow, you're always on my mind.  ❜ ❛  i think i've been in love with you since the day we met - scratch that, i know i've been in love with you since the day we met.  ❜ ❛  my biggest wish is to hold you close and never let you go.  ❜ ❛  all my life i've felt like a part of me was missing, but with you i've finally found it.  ❜ ❛  you deserve better than who i am right now, but i'm gonna keep trying to become someone you do deserve.  ❜ ❛  every time you smile at me, i get this flutter in my chest.  ❜ ❛  do you think i'll ever be worthy of your love?  ❜ ❛  i want to be the person to make you happy. the one person you can always come to with whatever you need.  ❜ ❛  will we ever get another chance together?  ❜ ❛  you were the best thing that's ever happened to me.  ❜ ❛  my biggest regret is ever letting you go.  ❜ ❛  i'm still in love with you ... and i honestly never stopped.  ❜ ❛  when i wake up in the morning, you're the first person i want to see.  ❜ ❛  every time i wake up, i check if you wrote me another message.  ❜ ❛  i wish i could be as important to you as you are to me.  ❜ ❛  it hurts when you don't talk to me like you used to.  ❜ ❛  i miss everything about you, your touch, your laugh, your smile. i wish i could have that back.  ❜ ❛  i want to fall asleep wrapped in your arms.  ❜ ❛  hold me closer; i always feel safer when you're with me.  ❜ ❛  there's so much i wish i was able to tell you.  ❜ ❛  i know things aren't easy right now, but i want to remain a fixture in your life. after all, you're one in mine.  ❜ ❛  i miss the way you always made me smile.  ❜ ❛  you're the reason i keep holding on.  ❜ ❛  maybe we're supposed so to remain a case of 'right person, wrong time' forever.  ❜ ❛  if only you knew how i feel about you.  ❜ ❛  i'm yearning to hold your hand in mine.  ❜ ❛  i think you are the one for me, and i hope one day i'll be the one for you, too.  ❜ ❛  do you think i'll ever become more than a friend to you?  ❜ ❛  my heart belongs to you, always and forever.  ❜ ❛  my first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost.  ❜ ❛  i've been thinking about us a lot lately.  ❜

[itneverendshere]

can we see rafe with a pouge reader and they are dating. they go out to go grocery shopping and rafe sees that she has a calculator out and watches as she picks up an item then types it in the calculator and then puts it back and chooses a cheaper option and he has to tell her that she doesn’t need to do that

birds of a feather - rafe cameron

word count: 2.9k belongs to this universe

The grocery store is quiet for a saturday afternoon, a rarity that makes the experience almost peaceful. Fluorescent lights buzz softly overhead as Rafe pushes a cart lazily with one hand, his other hand draped comfortably around his girl, you. 

He catches your eye and smiles, relishing the way you always lean into him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. Dating you was like finding the missing piece of himself—something he always knew he needed but never thought he’d find, let alone on the other side of the island.

Rafe grabs a box of cereal, tossing it into the cart without a second thought. “You good on milk, babe?” he asks, scanning the shelves for anything else that might catch his eye.

You nodded absentmindedly, focusing elsewhere. He notices that you are holding your phone in one hand and have a small calculator app open. His brow furrows as he watches you pick up a box of pasta, glance at the price, and then quickly type something into the calculator. After a moment of calculation, you place the box back on the shelf and reach for a cheaper brand.

Rafe's heart clenches. He hadn’t really thought about the differences between you in this way before. He knows you don't have the same privileges he does—didn’t grow up in a life of luxury as he had—but it’s moments like this that make him feel like a fucking entitled douche. 

He watches you do it again, this time with a jar of tomato sauce. You compare the prices, calculate the difference, and opt for the less expensive one.

“Hey,” Rafe stops you as you reach for another item. “What’re you doing?”

You blink, as if coming out of a trance, and look up at him with almost embarrassed smile. “Just trying to make sure I stay within the budget. Groceries can add up, y’know?”

He can’t stand the idea of you worrying about something as basic as food. Sure, he understands budgeting—everyone has to do it to some extent—but this? This was different. This was a mindset.

He gently takes the phone from your hand and slips it into his back pocket, keeping your hand in his. “You don’t need to do that. I’ve got you, okay?”

“Rafe, I—”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, “You don’t have to worry about the prices. Just get what you want. We’re fine.”

You are grateful—God, you were always grateful—but there’s something else, something that has kept you up at night.

You hate relying on him. Not because you don’t trust him or appreciate everything he does for you, but because it reminds you of the whispers you’ve been hearing ever since you started dating. 

You can almost hear the voices now, like a nagging reminder in the back of your mind. “Gold digger,” they’d hiss. “Dirty Pogue. Look at her, clinging to him for the money. She’s got him wrapped around her finger, totally pussy-whipped.”

The rumors had messed with your head the first time you’d heard them, and even now, they still hurt, despite knowing they weren’t true. But the worst part is that a small, insecure part of you hates there might be some truth to what they said. You didn’t want Rafe to feel like he had to take care of you, or that you were using him for his money. You love him too much to ever want him to think that.

You glance at him, watching as he casually tosses another item into the cart without checking the price, without even a second thought. He’s so at ease, so unbothered by the things that you had worried about during your entire lifetime. You can’t help but feel guilty, like you’re dragging him down, making him take on responsibilities that should be yours alone. 

A you walk down another aisle, you keep your eyes on the floor, as you force the words out. “I know you’re just trying to help, and I really appreciate it, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me.”

Rafe stops in his tracks, turning to face you fully. His brows knit together in concern like he genuinely can't grasp what you just said.

“I don’t feel like that,” he says,“I want to take care of you because I love you. It’s not about feeling like I have to—it’s because I want to.”

“But I hear what people say, Rafe—”

“They don’t know shit,” he scoffs, hand wrapping tightly around the cart, “They don’t know. Anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves.”

You sigh, your shoulders slumping as you lean into him, “It’s not that simple, baby. But I appreciate the thought.”

His other hand tilts your chin up so you’re looking directly at him, “It is that simple. I love you. You love me. That’s it.”

You know he means it, that he’s not just saying it to please you, but it doesn’t make the worries disappear. You nod, giving him a small smile, but he knows your brain is working double shifts, imagining all kinds of scenarios.

He sighs, knowing this conversation is far from over, and presses a gentle peck against your temple, all while murmuring, “Let’s finish up here and get out of this place.”

You agree, and the two of you continue down the aisle. Your hands are itching to take your phone out of his back pocket, and your brain scrambling to do simple math. You hate it. You automatically reach for the off-brand items, skip over the more expensive snacks, and choose the smaller sizes of products to stretch your budget. Rafe is abnormally quiet and you know it’s taking every will power in his body not to pick you up and lock you in his truck while he finishes shopping for you. 

He pauses in front of the snacks aisle, his eyes catching on your favorite candy. It’s something he knows you love but rarely allow yourself to buy. Without hesitation, he grabs a couple of bags and tosses them into the cart.

“Rafe, those are expensive—” you start to protest, but he cuts you off with a playful grin.

“They’re my favorite too.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the way he looks at you, with so much affection, makes the words die on your lips. Instead, you shake your head huffing as he wraps his arm around your shoulders dragging you along, “You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t be mean, baby.”

You squeeze his waist in retaliation. 

When you finally reach the checkout line, he watches as you nervously glance at the total on the screen. It’s a small thing, for him, but it’s enough to make him realize just how much it affects you. Without saying a word, he hands over his card to the cashier, ignoring the way you try to protest.

“Rafe, you don’t have to—” you start, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“I know,” he says firmly, “But I want to.”

You bite your lip, nodding reluctantly as he pays for the groceries. It’s a small gesture, but it means the world to him. He wants to take care of you, to make sure you never have to worry about something as basic as food ever again. He wants to give you the life you deserve, the one you never experienced on The Cut.

He opens the trunk of his car, starting to load the groceries while you stand there, too quiet. He hates not hearing the sound of your voice. 

“Hey,” he closes the trunk and turning to face you. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He steps closer, his hand finding a home in your neck, thumb caressing your pulsing point, “Forget about them okay?”

You sigh, forehead touching his chin, “I’m trying. I just don’t want to be a burden to you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me.”

“You’re not a burden,” he says firmly, fingers pulling your head up, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that, no matter how often it happens, still takes your breath away. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Now get that fine ass inside the car.”

You can’t help but laugh at the way he says it, so casually and with so much conviction that it leaves no room for you to second guess his thoughts. His confidence, his overwhelming trust in everything that he says, is one of the things you love most about him. He’s always been like that—bold, sure of himself, and unafraid to go after what he wants. And right now, what he wants is you. 

“Why?” You tease, rolling your eyes but smiling as you let him guide you toward the car “You gonna make me if I don’t?”

You wish you could photograph the grin on his face, the way his beautiful eyes seem to drink you in like he’ll die if he doesn’t look at you all the time. 

“Oh, you know I will,” he says as he steps closer, his hand slipping down to give your ass a firm but playful slap. The sound echoes through the quiet parking lot, and you gasp, more from surprise than anything else.

“Rafe!” you scold, though your laughter makes it known there’s no real annoyance. The smirk on his face only grows, clearly pleased with himself.

“Consider that a warning,” he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I’d hate to have to follow through.”

You try to hold back a grin, biting your lip as you tilt your head to look up at him. 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” His tone is a challenge.

For a moment, you consider pushing more just to see what he’d do, but the way he’s looking at you—like he’s ready to scoop you up and take you back to his bed right then and there—makes you rethink it. Instead, you play along, giving him a coy smile as you turn and head for the door.

“That’s what I thought,” he calls after you, his deep voice filled with a smug satisfaction that makes you roll your eyes again. Before you can reach for the door handle, he gently pulls it open for you. You slide into the passenger seat, and before you touch the seatbelt, Rafe is leaning in, his hands brushing over yours as he clicks the belt into place.

“Safe and sound,” he murmurs, as he pulls back slightly. It’s something so simple, yet so endearing he has insisted on doing ever since the two of you started dating.

You smile up at him, practically oozing in your love for him as your hand reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“Thank you."

His gaze softens as he leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips, “Anything for you,” he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek before he finally steps back and closes the door.

As he rounds the front of the car to get in on his side, you can’t help but watch him. It still blows your mind that this is real. The way he looks at you, the way he takes care of you without making you feel small—it’s everything you never knew you needed. You’re still not used to someone loving you like this, so openly. You never imagined Rafe Cameron would be that someone. 

He starts the engine, the low hum filling the silence between you. The radio automatically tunes to a soft indie station, one of your favorites, and Rafe reaches over to lace his fingers with yours. 

“I’m cooking tonight.”

You turn to him, even though you know his attention is on the road, “Really?”

Rafe’s thumb absentmindedly rubs circles on the back of your hand, “Hmmm.”

“So you can burn down the kitchen again?”

“Baby, that was one time.”

You snort, the image of Rafe with a fire extinguisher still fresh in your memory, “What’s on the menu?”

He grins, “I was thinking we could make that pasta you like, with the garlic bread.”

Your heart swells a little at the thoughtfulness behind his choice. He remembers all the little things—your favorite foods, the way you like your coffee, the songs that make you smile.

“Are you trying to get laid?”

He laughs, loud and boisterous as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, “So you don’t want desert?”

You hit his shoulder gently, all too aware you’re still in a moving vehicle, “Don’t be nasty.”

His touch moves to your thighs, squeezing gently, "Can't help it when I'm around you."

The smile tugging at your lips is impossible to hide. There's something so easy about being with Rafe, despite everything. Despite the whispers, the looks, the insecurities that sometimes creep in—he has a way of making you feel like none of it matters. 

The city lights begin to twinkle on the horizon, the sun dipping low in the sky. It's peaceful, the kind of quiet that lets you sink into yourself. The idea of a cozy night in, just the two of you cooking dinner together, fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the summer heat outside.

Rafe glances over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Penny for your thoughts?"

You shake your head, the smile widening on your face. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

He quirks an eyebrow, "I think I'm the lucky one."

"Yeah, but you're also really annoying," you tease, earning a chuckle from him.

"Annoying but irresistible," he counters smoothly, pulling into the driveway of his house 

He parks the car and quickly rounds the front to open your door, always the gentleman. As you step out, you look up at him, your heart swelling with a love so deep it almost overwhelms you. It's not just the grand gestures or the way he spoils you—it's the little things, the way he makes you feel cherished, the way he sees you for who you are and loves you anyway.

"Ready for our gourmet meal?" he asks as he takes your hand, leading you towards the front door.

You laugh, leaning into him as you walk. "If by gourmet you mean slightly burnt, then yes."

He chuckles, his arm slipping around your waist as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "With you, it's always perfect."

Before you can walk through the front door, he stops all too suddenly, dragging you against him. You’re confused for a second, looking up to see him ogle you.

“What?” You stutter out, “Something’s wrong?”

Rafe shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his pink lips as he looks down at you with that same adoring expression that never fails to make your heart  stop. "No, nothing’s wrong.”

You blink up at him, still confused, “Rafe...”

 “I know you worry sometimes. About what people say, about what they think. But I don’t give a fuck about any of that. I only care about you, about us.” His hand moves to cup your face, his thumb moving gently along your cheekbone. “I love you, y’know that? Right? Aways.”

Your breath hitches at the sudden emotion in his voice. It’s random moments like this that remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place—beneath the confident, cocky exterior, Rafe Cameron has a heart that beats fiercely for the people he cares about, especially for you. 

“I love you,” you whisper, feeling the words settle between you like a vow.

“I love you more,” he replies, his voice full of conviction. Then, with a small grin, he adds, “And I’m gonna marry you someday. We’re gonna have our own place, our own life. Just you and me.”

It’s not the first time you’ve talked about the future, but hearing him say it so plainly, so confidently, sends a warmth spreading through your whole body.

“Is that a proposal, Cameron?” you tease, though your voice wavers just a little, eyes burning as you pathetically attempt not to cry.

“Not yet,” he smirks, leaning down to press a peck to the corner of your lips, “But when I do, you’ll know. It’s gonna be perfect. Just like you.”

You pull back slightly, resting your forehead against his as you take a deep breath, trying to calm the stupid fluttering in your chest. “You mean it?”

“More than anything,” he replies without hesitation. “I want to build a life with you, baby. The kind of life where you never have to worry about anything, where you can just be happy.”

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, but they’re the good kind, the kind that comes from being overwhelmed with love. So different from the ones you’d experienced as a kid, growing up. You nod, not sure how to explain how you’re feeling inside, so instead, you pull him down for another kiss, letting your lips show what your voice can’t.

You kiss each other like you have all the time in the world, which you have, savoring the way your lips fit perfectly against his. There’s no rush, no urgency—just you two. 

When you pull apart, both of you slightly breathless, Rafe gives you a lopsided grin, his lips just barely grazing yours as he speaks, “So, how about we start with dinner?”

[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two here

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper? is that a warning? | words: 1k short but sweet!

You were known to have a confident personality. You never let anyone shake you, that's why the team loved you so much. You were the sole, beating heart of Aaron Hotchner's team; you never let them give up. Not only, but you were kind of a badass. You knew how to profile amazingly, and you could hold your own if an unsub got a little too rough.

Something else you were known for? A hot temper.

Okay, maybe it could go a little bad sometimes, but you truly meant well. Like that time you accidentally made a teenage boy cry. To be fair, he was a potential unsub. He actually was the unsub, so not all was a total failure.

Today was different for you. The coffee shop you frequented before work was closed due to issues with the electrical systems. That put a chip in your day. How was one to thrive without coffee? Next, you forgot your badge at home, making you late for work since you had to retrieve it to even get into the building. That put a dent in your day.

Derek was known to be a funny guy. Not the kind of funny guy you'd actually laugh at, but the kind who kind of pissed you off sometimes. Yeah, that kind. While he meant well at heart, it just royally pissed you off. You couldn't help that!

You leaned your elbows on the table, listening to the coffee pour into your cup. "Hello my little fox," Penelope greeted, her face frowning when she saw the look on yours. "What's wrong?"

"Bad day so far," You muttered. "Everything's just going wrong."

"It's only seven," Derek said as he walked in, smile on his face. "Come on, sugar. Go on and sit down at your desk. I know how you like your coffee." You thanked Derek quickly as you went to your desk. It was right next to Spencer.

Oh, Spencer. The boy who fell hard for you, who made you fall for him. Neither of you knew that, though, your crushes remaining secret still. "Y/n," Spencer frowned, "what's wrong?"

"It's alright, Spence," You forced a small, pathetic smile. "Just a bad morning."

Spencer gave you a half smile, "Positive attitudes actually give you a higher likelihood of having a better day by ten to thirty percent," Spencer rambled, "and that actually is the same for social connections, being a twenty to forty percent. You're on the right track."

You loved Spencer's rambles. They were adorable. "Thanks, Spence." You smiled.

A few minutes later, Morgan came to your desk with your coffee in hand. "For you, sugar." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. You quickly took a generous sip.

It left your lips quicker than it entered. You spit it out into the trash can next to your dest, face turning sour at the taste. It was so bitter, so salty. "What the hell, Morgan?!" You cried out, "What is this?"

"Salt, sugar." He teased.

Your face turned hot, "How old are you, six?" His face slowly fell as you became angrier, "Genuinely, how old are you? Because last I checked, children don't have jobs."

"Hey," Derek tried to calm you down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to actually upset you."

"Oh, of course you didn't!" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your lips. "You just don't get when people don't want you to make them feel worse!"

Derek's face fell into a frown. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you couldn't stop your words. "Y/n," Spencer said firmly, "Sit down, now."

Before you could even think, you followed his command. The whole event caught Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and JJ's attention. JJ was quick to rush over, grabbing your coffee. "I'll get you the right one, it's okay." She comforted as Emily quickly lead Derek away. Rossi and Garcia decided to mind their own business, smart.

You groaned, head in your hands. Spencer was quick to kneel by you, taking your hands into his own. "Y/n," He said softly, "Take a deep breath. I know, I know." You followed his instructions, inhaling and holding it like he demonstrated, softly letting it out after. "Good job, sweetheart, do it again for me, okay?"

After a few more times, your face cooled off. You closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"I know, he knows, too." Spencer assured. "He knows he was out of line. You reacted the same way anyone would. It's alright."

Spencer raised his hand to your face, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. JJ walked over, unsure if she was ruining.. something?

"Hey, I got you your coffee," She hesitantly spoke. You looked up, reaching out quickly.

"Thanks," You mumbled, taking a cautious sip. When you realized the taste was right, you took a bigger sip, sighing at the warmth flooding down your throat.

Spencer gave you a small smile, "See? It's okay now."

You nodded with a smile, thanking him softly. He went back to his desk, re-opening his report. You did the same, clicking your pen open.

"Okay, now what the hell was that?" Derek asked, the previous team members crowding around Rossi's desk.

"I felt like I was walking in on them," JJ mumbled awkwardly. "The tension was so strong I thought it was gonna slice me clean in half."

Emily smiled, "I bet they're in love or something, only love can make a person react like that. She would've bitten anyone else's head off." Everyone mumbled in agreement.

"I bet two weeks," Rossi said after a moment.

"Nah, knowing Reid, it's gotta be more like three." Derek shook his head.

Emily laughed, "I bet a week and a half. Y/n's too badass to not admit it first."

"I don't think they ever will until we do for them." Penelope sighed, knowing how stubborn both individuals were.

"I say one week, solid." JJ nodded. "I felt that tension."

Hotch's voice came out of nowhere, "Four days."

Everyone turned around, shocked. "Hotch, you sure about that?" Derek asked, a slight tease in his voice. "You know them."

"I do," He nodded, "Four days. You'll see I'm right."

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

[inkskinned]

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

[aperrywilliams]

My Lover Boy (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

——————

Author Masterlist

——————

Request: "Can you write something super angsty, like the reader and Spencer have something going on, but technically, they're just friends, and then everything with Lila Archer happens? She's sad but tries not to show it to him, and he is mad at himself for getting with Lila. Derek is teasing him, and it's super angsty, but it all ends up okay."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: You think something is going on with Spencer, something beyond friendship. But you start to question it when a case in LA pushes Spencer to spend time with Lila Archer.

Word Count: 4.6k

TW: Angst with a happy ending. Use of some strong words. Some suggestive comments. Mention of having sex. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Thanks for the request! Keep sending them to me.

——————

"Hey, did you get something?" You ask Spencer when he returns to the precinct. He and Gideon were at a gallery open to obtain information for the case you are working on in LA.

Spencer shrugs. "Not really. They all were more interested in photos and the press."

"Celebrities," you huff playfully, and Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Something like that," Spencer agrees.

"I'm going to grab some coffee. Do you want some?" You offer, standing from where you were checking the case folders.

"Sure," Spencer accepts, sitting and grabbing a folder for himself to inspect. You pass by him and squeeze his shoulders in a gentle gesture, subtly kissing his head.

"I'll be right back," you murmur before leaving the room.

Things with Spencer have been kind of odd for a while. Sure, you still are coworkers and friends, but ultimately, it is like you both are getting to terms with the idea that something else is going on. You don't know what it is really, and neither of you has sat to talk about it.

Why? Lack of time, maybe? Fear of being misreading the signals? Both?

Whatever it is, you have been acting like nothing is happening, although you almost kissed after a bar outing two weeks ago. You would have if Morgan hadn't called Spencer when you were about to kiss outside your apartment.

After the interruption, neither of you brought up the topic again.

Now you are stuck in LA, trying to solve a case involving celebrity killings. So, of course, the media and the locals have been nailing your asses for answers.

There is no time for anything else but to try to catch the unsub as soon as possible. Hotch asked you to narrow the unsub comfort zone. It's a task that's usually assigned to Spencer, but Hotch has him tracking information from one of the possible unsub's targets: Lila Archer, an actress with a promising career ahead.

"Pretty boy now has the best assignment in this case," Derek sighs as he slumps into one of the chairs in the meeting room.

Elle and you scoff at his dramatics. Morgan points an accusing finger at you.

"If you have seen her, I'm sure you would agree with me."

Neither of you pays too much attention to Derek's tantrum and keeps working instead.

It's almost night, and when Hotch returns to the precinct with Gideon and no Spencer in sight, you raise an eyebrow.

"Where is the genius?" Elle asks.

"With Miss Archer. We need to keep an eye on her, and Reid has the rapport already," Hotch explains before asking for your progress in the task you were assigned.

How does Spencer suddenly become a bodyguard? You don't know, but don't question it. You assume Hotch knows what he's doing.

An hour later, Garcia calls, saying the cameras at Lila's property show a strange person wandering around. The fact Spencer is not answering his phone makes everyone flock out of the police station, and all of you think the unsub is trying to get into the house.

What if the unsub is already inside and hurt Spencer? Shit, you are a nervous wreck, although you try to mask it to the rest of the team.

When arriving at the house, Hotch split everyone: Morgan and Elle are assigned to the front. Hotch and you take the backyard. Gideon, with the patrols, canvass the main street.

As you approach, your heart beats faster and faster. With your gun aimed, you're ready for anything but the fact you hear laughing coming from the pool.

You are covering Hotch's back, and he is as confused as you after opening the gate.

You both see Lila getting out of the pool in a fit of laughs and Spencer, entirely clothed, inside the pool.

"Are you okay, Miss Archer?" Hotch asks, holstering his gun and checking the surroundings with his gaze.

"Oh, Agent Hotchner. I didn't know you were coming," she mentions casually, wrapping a towel around her torso.

Realizing danger isn't imminent, you holster your gun, too, and reach a hand to help Spencer.

"What the hell happened?" You ask him as you take in his drenched clothes and wet gun resting at the edge of the pool. Spencer doesn't look at you, only mumbling, "I fell."

Well, weird but not implausible, considering Spencer isn't the best-coordinated man in the world.

You help him, grabbing a towel from a chair and handing it to him. You take his gun and remove the bullets from the soaked chamber.

You want to know more about the whole situation, but before you have the chance to ask Spencer, you see Derek, Elle, and Gideon coming.

Finally, the alert came from a paparazzi who was around the house and wanted to take photographs of Lila. And regarding the pool? Lila said that she wanted a dip, and unfortunately, Dr. Reid tripped and fell.

No one says anything about it, but the looks Elle and Derek give Spencer catch your attention, as does the way Spencer avoids talking to you until you are called to return to the precinct.

Despite the incident, Lila insists Spencer stay as you continue investigating the evidence.

So you all come back to the station, minus Spencer.

You don't know why Elle instructs you to check the camera roll recovered from the paparazzi, but there you are, in a dark room, revealing what could be pieces of evidence.

What you do not expect is the kind of images that are showing before your eyes: Spencer and Lila Archer making out in the pool.

What-the-fuck?

Now, the scene you found when you arrived at the place with Hotch makes a little more sense. Spencer was entirely soaked while Lila, with a smug expression, walked into the house with a towel around her torso.

You don't know what reaction comes first. But you can recognize the deception and the way your heart shatters into a million pieces.

They were kissing. In the pool. At night. Like nothing is happening around them.

You have been working your ass to catch an unsub, and the doctor is enjoying himself with a movie star. In addition, they lied about the whole ordeal.

The tears pool in your eyes, but you are fighting not to let them fall. Not here. Not for Spencer. Not for anyone.

Why bother, anyway? You are just friends.

What? Will you ask him for an explanation?

It's not your place, even if you thought something was going on between you both.

How stupid you are. You don't stand a chance with him. Spencer only sees you as friend material.

With the entire film revealed, you shove the photos into a manila folder and leave the dark room.

Elle raises an eyebrow when she spots you walking toward her. You throw the folder over the table.

"Here's what you asked me for," you say in a harsh tone before turning around and walking out of the precinct. Elle doesn't say anything and doesn't need to open the folder to know what's going on.

When the team moves to Lila's house again a few hours later, already knowing who the unsub is, you stay behind in connection to Garcia to coordinate at the police station. You don't need to be there again.

You won't get exposed to see Spencer and Lila together.

Early in the morning, with the killer in custody and Lila Archer safe, you are ready to come back to Virginia.

During the flight, you seclude yourself in the farthest seat, headphones on and eyes closed. It works. No one disturbs you.

But you fail to notice Spencer's eyes on you the entire time.

After touching down, Hotch gathers you in the office to do the debriefing when you only want to go home.

Spencer tries to talk to you a few times, but you slip away from him every time, using whatever excuse not to speak.

Finally, Hotch officially closes the case and sends you home with two days off. Without saying goodbye to anyone, and with your heart broken, you run out of the BAU.

------------

Spencer looks for you when he exits the conference room, but you're already gone. His guts tell him something happened to you, and he is worried. Usually, you're open to talking to him, and with this thing going on between you both, Spencer doesn't know how to ask you about it. But even if he wants to do that, he needs to have you in the same room first.

And that will only happen once you are back at the BAU in two days.

He thinks maybe he should go to your place but refrains from the idea. Perhaps you're just tired, and he doesn't want to make it worse.

He doesn't know you sulked in your apartment the entire time, and when you all return to work two days later, you are not still talking to him.

Spencer trails behind you like a lost puppy. He tries to make some conversation with you every chance he gets, but you avoid him like the plague. Spencer still doesn't know why you're acting so cold with him, so he goes to someone who might know: Elle.

Spencer walks to her desk, ready to get some kind of answers.

"What is it, Reid?" Elle asks without looking at him. Spencer clears his throat.

"Do you know if something happened to her?" he questions, referring to you. Elle rolls her eyes in annoyance before lifting her gaze to him.

"Are you kidding me right now, Reid?"

Spencer frowns in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Huffing, Elle digs through the stack of folders on her desk, pulls out the one with the photos you developed, and passes it on to Spencer.

"Serve yourself, genius."

Spencer proceeds to check what is inside, and his cheeks immediately start to burn.

"She - she saw these?" Spencer stutters. Elle pulls a face.

"If she saw these? She developed the camera roll and gave these to me."

Spencer wants to die. It makes perfect sense, but that means he screwed it up.

"Why did she do that?! I mean, no one else could have done it?"

"I asked her to," Elle says, folding her arms over her chest.

"Why did you do that?!" Spencer squeals.

It doesn't matter why, but he still can't believe you saw everything. Spencer knows it was wrong to kiss Lila back, but for him, it didn't mean anything. His heart already belongs to you, even if he hasn't told you yet.

"What did I know that she would find out photos of you and Lila sucking each other's faces? I thought there were only pictures of Miss Startlet swimming and you stupidly falling into the pool. Isn't that you told me happened?"

Spencer Reid has rarely been left speechless, but this is one of them. A mixture of shame, regret, and anger at himself makes his stomach churn, and he wants to dig a hole to disappear.

He needs to explain to you what happened. But how could he approach the subject? You and Spencer are friends in the first place, and he didn't tell you what really happened in that pool. You had to see it for yourself in those pictures.

And thinking about your 'situationship' makes it even worse.

Spencer leaves Elle's desk, thinking about what to say and looking for the best moment to talk to you. But luck isn't by his side: in mid-morning, Hotch announced there is a case.

At least it's local this time.

In the afternoon, he spots you walking alone in one of the hallways. It's now or never, he thinks.

"(Y/N), wait!"

Hearing your name, you reluctantly turn only to see Spencer jogging to catch up with you. You want to turn again and leave, but it won't be subtle if you do that.

"What is it, Spencer? There is something about the case?" You ask flatly. Spencer knows you know it isn't about the case, but he has to assume you don't.

"I - uh. No. It's not the case. I - I just want to make sure you are okay?" His voice is wary, and the fidgeting of his hands is a tale-telling that he's nervous.

"I'm okay. I'm great, actually," you say, faking cheerfulness. Your patience runs thin, and Spencer isn't helping.

He frowns, knowing what you are doing.

"Don't be like that. I really wanted to make sure you are okay," he mumbles shyly. You cross your arms over your chest—a defiant look in your eyes.

"And why I wouldn't, uh? Something bad happened to me? There is a single reason why I shouldn't be okay?"

Spencer contemplates his response for a second. How does he say it in a way that does not sound self-centered?

"I don't know. You haven't talked to me since the last case in LA."

Spencer opts to bring up the obvious and let the overwhelming evidence out of this for now.

"And that bothers you?" You ask in a disbelief tone.

Spencer knows this isn't working.

Damn to his inability to lead meaningful interactions when he needs to.

"Yes! I mean, we - we're friends. You can tell me if something is going on."

The friend card. Spencer thinks it's the safest approach. But he's wrong. You laugh humorlessly.

"Honestly, Spencer? I don't know if we are friends anymore."

Your tone tries to be cold, but behind it, there is a tiny wavering you try to suppress at all costs.

"What? Why are you saying that?"

That's the limit Spencer reaches and pushes you to snap.

"Because friends don't lie to each other! When I asked you what happened at Lila's house, you lied to me!"

Spencer gulps because he knows you are right.

That is what he needed to say first, and not have to wait until you were who threw it at him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, gazing at his feet.

And then again, the guilt, the embarrassment.

Why did he do it? He isn't attracted to Lila. Why did he kiss her back?

"Yeah, me too. But you know? I'm glad. I'm glad you finally found someone and that now I know where I stand."

It hurts you to say the words. Spencer can see the crack in your demeanor, and he is the one to blame.

"What? No! No, I'm not- I didn't find someone," he chimes in an attempt to clear this up. "It's not what you think."

"Isn't? I saw the pictures, Spencer. I developed them myself. I know what I saw."

"She kissed me!" Spencer exclaims, trying to get afloat because he feels he's drowning.

"So what? If that's the case, you kissed her back!" You spat, angry at the lame explanation coming from Spencer's mouth.

"It was a mistake! I shouldn't have done that! You have to believe me."

Spencer tries to take hold of your hand, but you don't let him, yanking your arm and keeping your distance from him.

"Why do you think it's a mistake? Uh? She's pretty, almost famous, she's into you. I don't think it is," you start, and Spencer frowns. "What I can't understand is why you didn't tell me the truth before I could find out from those goddamn photos. What did you expect? That I would criticize you? What would bother me about your love adventures in Hollywood? You said it yourself: we're just friends."

"(Y/N), please," Spencer tries to get to you but is to no avail.

"It's your fucking life, Spencer. Do what you want with it! But let me out of it."

Without another word, you storm out to who knows where but far away from him.

Spencer knows he fucked up big this time. And his attempt at apology made things only worse.

He didn't see you for the rest of the case. Spencer assumed you secluded yourself in Garcia's office.

From his spot at his desk, he can only see Elle's disapproving look.

There is no reasonable reason for what he did, and that consumes Spencer's brain. He doesn't like Lila. He has been pining for you long enough to be sure he loves you.

'Men are men,' Elle usually says when Derek brags about his conquests. Spencer always felt proud of not being that way. And what happens when a pretty actress jumps at him? He goes with it. Elle is right, then. He is like any other man.

The question is if he will do something to gain your trust - and affection - back. How can he fix this?

------------

A whole week has passed since the case in LA. The BAU looks pretty much the same as always, if not for the fact you only talk to Spencer when it is strictly necessary. The team doesn't pick up much of it, though. Only Elle knows what's going on, but she won't pester you with questions or unrequited advice.

Spencer is doing nothing extra to call your attention, although you can feel his eyes on you sometimes during the day. But you assume he got your message, and he'll go on with his life.

The problem is you can't bring yourself to do the same. You know your chances with Spencer are a past thing, but your heart still doesn't get the memo. And you try, really try to be neutral, professional, and collected. It works in the majority because nobody asks questions or refers to what happened in LA.

But the state of 'everything is fine' in you is fragile, and you know that.

It's Friday afternoon, and everyone wants to end their reports to go finally home. You see Spencer from the corner of your eyes. He is deep-writing in what you assume are the details from the last case. Elle is doing the same. You are trying to focus on your work, but the tiredness makes you go slower than you want.

Suddenly, the glass doors open to reveal a grinning Derek Morgan walking straight to Spencer's desk with something under his arm. It looks like a newspaper.

"Hey, lover boy!" Derek claps Spencer's back with a shit-eaten smirk plastered on his face. Spencer looks up at Derek with a frown. "Don't look at me like that Casanova. You are the one who didn't tell me about your little something with Miss Starlet."

Morgan places a newspaper he's carrying on Reid's desk. The cover is a photo of him making out with Lila Archer.

"W- what?" Spencer stutters as his cheeks redden. His eyes quickly move from the newspaper to find yours, and you only want to disappear. Averting his gaze, you try to focus again on the file you are reading. Elle rolls her eyes from her desk.

"My man! You slept with her that night, didn't you?"

"Morgan, stop," Spencer pleads, but Derek doesn't relent, even when the air in the room becomes way thick in instants.

"You can tell me! Is she good? I bet she is-"

"Morgan, no!" Spencer's high-pitched voice tries to make Morgan shut up.

"Come on, give me something pretty boy. She is wild in bed, doesn't she? How many hickeys did she leave on you?"

You actually cringe at Morgan's words. The sole idea of Lila and Spencer sleeping together makes you sick to your stomach.

You're about seconds to stand and get out.

Elle, who is observing the whole scenario - thing Derek doesn't - huffs in irritation.

"Why don't you and lover boy go to spill your gut about your sex life out of here? We are trying to work if you didn't notice."

Morgan frowns. Usually, Elle backs up his teasing to Spencer. But when he is about to say something again, you're - not so subtly - grabbing your things and storming out from the bullpen.

Your collected attitude goes out of the window.

All of them be damned, you think.

Spencer is standing right away to chase after you, leaving Morgan with a confused look, silently asking Elle what the hell just happened.

"I am only going to say that you are a total asshole, Derek Morgan," Elle states before returning to her files.

Meanwhile, you're pressing the elevator button, and you can feel Spencer rapidly nearing you.

“(Y/N)! Please, wait!"

When he's by your side, you intentionally look to another way.

"Not now, Spencer. Just let me go."

Just let me go. That statement has more meaning than the explicit one you're voicing.

"Morgan is only messing with me. I didn't sleep with her."

Spencer thinks blurting the truth will be enough to stop you from running away from him. But things are already more complicated than that.

"It doesn't matter, Spencer. Now, let me go."

Your insistence is more like an agonizing plea. You're so tired. There is no fight you want to engage in right now. You think you won this time when the elevator doors open, but it's short-lived as you see Spencer stepping inside as well.

"No! It does matter!"

The elevator doors close, and now only are you and him.

"Why? Uh? Why is it so important for you to tell me this?"

Your sudden raised voice takes Spencer aback. You're pissed off.

"Because - because it is the truth!" He defends.

And maybe he's right. Perhaps he didn't sleep with Lila, but your heart is already broken, and you only need space to get used to the idea and heal.

"Spencer. I already told you you don't owe me an explanation. Truth or not, it is not my business anyway."

Your tone is not angry but deflated, exhausted. Your gaze drops to the floor.

Spencer wants to scream; there is so much in his chest to say, but his brain doesn't cooperate in spilling something coherent.

"But I want it to be!" He decides to say, and he gets you to look at him again.

"What? are you talking about?"

"I want it - I want it to be your business," Spencer repeats, and you don't know what to say; you don't even know what he means.

The elevator dings and the door opens. You both stand there for a second, frozen after what looks like a confession. Or not. You're not sure.

"You don't know what you are saying," you mumble, deciding to move and pass him to walk into the parking garage.

"I know I should have said this before," Spencer continues walking after you. "I know I should have said something that night when we almost kissed. I regret I didn't."

You stop when he mentions that night. At this point, you thought he didn't care, and it didn't mean anything to him.

"Nothing happened that night," you say bitterly.

"But it should have. Don't tell me you didn't feel it," Spencer poses a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning away again. Your eyes fill with tears, but you're fighting not to let them fall.

"And what if I did? It doesn't change anything," you shrug, a painful look in your eyes.

"It does! Because I love you and I do really want to make it up to you. I want you back. I want to amend the hurt I caused you for my stupidity."

Did he say 'I love you'? That takes you aback.

"Spencer-"

"I know I messed up. I know it was stupid to kiss Lila back. It doesn't matter if she did it first or not; you're right. But believe me, it didn't mean anything to me because she was not you. She is not you and will never be."

"You're confusing things," you shake your head, still not giving credit to his confession.

"After our fight the other day, I really thought about stepping back and leaving you alone. I have been torturing myself all week trying to conceive a life without you on it, mourning the lost of our friendship, and above all, mourning the lost of the prospect of to be your person, and you to be mine."

You can't keep your tears at bay anymore, so you let them free. Spencer cups your cheeks, and you can see tears in his eyes, too.

"But I can't. I can't let you go. Not without telling you the truth. And if you don't feel the same, that's okay; I won't push any further, and I'll leave you alone."

You can't tell him that you don't feel the same way because that would be the biggest lie in the universe. You are also sure that you love him, and that is why this situation has broken you so much.

You blink away some of your tears as Spencer looks at you, trying to read the truth in you.

"I think I have been in love with you since ever," you blurt out, with a half sob and half chuckle. "And I felt so heartbroken seeing you kissing her, and now Derek comes suggesting-" you trail off.

"Hey, don't think about that. I messed up, and I didn't say anything earlier because, to me, it didn't mean anything. I'm so sorry," Spencer apologizes, running his thumbs under your eyes to wipe some of your tears.

"How can - how can we start over?" you ask him shyly but hopefully. Spencer hastens to reply.

"The way you want it. If you want time to think, or if you want us to go slow, we can do that. If you wish to, can we go on a date first? Officially, a date? We can do that," Spencer rambles, and you smile for real for the first time in weeks.

"Yeah, we can go on a date, officially a date," you concede, and Spencer can't contain his excitement. "But, can I ask you for something first?"

"Of course. Just name it," Spencer says as his hands rub your shoulders lovingly.

"Can you kiss me now?" You request, with the most faked innocent look you can muster, making Spencer laugh.

"I can do that," he nods, looking at you intensely, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. Then Spencer leans down, closing his eyes at midway. You wait with batted breath until finally, his lips softly touch yours.

It's a tentative, sweet kiss. Your arms go up Spencer's shoulders until they land on his neck. His hands fall to your hips to pull you closer as the kiss deepens. It's no longer exploratory; it's hungry, messy, passionate, and you couldn't have wanted it any other way. You're sure this kiss is a thousand times better than the one he had with Lila, and Spencer completely agrees with that assessment because it's you.

That makes it perfect.

It's the need for air that makes you part after a while.

"Wow," you both say at the same time, starting to laugh like teenagers and trying to catch your breath.

When the laugh subsides, you narrow your eyes in contemplation and Spencer's eyebrow furrow.

"What?" he asks, and you look at him—a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"We agreed to a date first, right?" you ask, and Spencer nods.

"What if we skip that and make up for the lost time? What do you say, my lover boy?" you suggest, with a playful smirk on your face. Spencer's cheeks flush, but he is definitively excited with the idea. He quickly grabs your hand and runs with you to your car.

There is a lot to make it up, he agrees.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[kittymizuki]

still in disbelief about how mizu5 genuinely captures the subtleties of transmisogyny so accurately like nothing else i've seen before especially with the nuances with which mizuki's story is told … all it takes is a single sentence, a few words … i love that the classmates saying that shit don't even … realize how cruel they are, bc that's how it /is/ and bc "oh no, we said something weird to a Normal Girl, that makes us look bad" - transmisogyny is just a punchline to a joke for them, that's how detached they are from their own cruelty and it's really not any different from the 'average' misogyny and how that tends to be a joke amongst boys. what ena ended up being exposed to is really just the classmates' 'boy's locker room talk' leaking out, so to speak? ena's probably heard jokes from people about how unfeminine her behavior is in the past and she quickly spits out "that's not funny" bc ena and mizuki are both "pretty girls" who like fashion and dolling themselves up, and hearing them talk about how mizuki's cute in this way … i'm sure it reminds her of her own experiences with being an 'influencer' - people like her when she shuts up and makes herself cute and appealing and ena must've absolutely received her fair share of comments and messages from weirdos for posting selfies of herself online, but i think what drives this home to me as such a fantastic narrative is the way that they call mizuki "attractive as long as she's not making any trouble and being a pain" bc it really speaks to how trans girls are objectified and only deemed 'acceptable' as long as they make themselves into limpless dolls who are acceptable targets for any form of abuse and misogyny instead of trying to claim their own subjectivity as women, so there's so much crossover in how mizuki's experiences work alongside ena's? but also mizuki faces so much more constant and direct criticism, all her actions and choices so closely under scrutiny.

mizuki loves and appreciates the attention of girls and when she first met ena she saw herself in the art that ena made - ena draws a girl in pain and mizuki goes "she's me". in the scene where mizuki gets outed, ena is speechless not bc she thinks mizuki is "gross" or bc she's mad mizuki "tricked" her? she's just horrified that she just got degendered /by association/ and then had to listen to these boys speak about the girl she's in love with in this /aggressively/ violent way, especially since mizuki has a meltdown, knowing, apologizing for hurting, even as ena would absolutely say "no, i'm sorry, im sorry, please don't hate vourself" bc mizuki feels like she's the one at fault for feeling like ena would assume the worst of her, but mizuki also feels like she doesn't have the right to be angry at people … this is the first time we get to see mizuki's rage and it's so palpable … i love so much that she hates the idea of niigo's kindness being born out of her 'abnormality' as a trans girl … she hates everything about this. she hates the idea of coming out, she hates the idea of having a question attached to her girlhood..

mizuki logically knows that niigo are going to accept her bc they've also gone through so much turmoil themselves and understand what it's like to be on the fringes of society, but she still can't shake off all those intrusive thoughts about how they might only accept her out of pity or consideration bc they feel too bad for her rather than a genuine understanding and the idea that things might change between them bc of that is too terrifying to embrace… such patronizing 'kindness' burns too much for mizuki to accept, so she'd rather run away and shut herself out completely… for mizuki it's like being stuck on a bridge where the only two ways out are ones where nothing changes and this hurts in its own way bc she can't tell how much of it would be genuine and how much would be an act and the other way is them /trying too hard/ to be considerate and this can easily become alienating bc mizuki truly just wants to be "one of the girls" in the most natural sense? she doesn't want to be made to feel like she's being accommodated, but there's also all the guilt that she's been internalizing for being "deceptive" and not saying the truth sooner that further complicates things and makes her feel like she's undeserving of any kindness that she may be offered… even though she genuinely was going to tell ena the truth herself, it doesn't matter anymore bc someone else told her before she even got the chance to do so herself and that's something she actually wished would happen in the past, so is there anyone to blame but herself? mizuki's entire thing is that until now she's been "writing" a fictionalized cis girl version of herself when she's with niigo and obscuring her own transness bc she doesn't want to be treated as an Other or have an asterisk attached to her girlhood bc she just wants to be treated as one of them instead of having to explain herself or prove anything but she has her facade violently stripped away from her in the most traumatic way imaginable and now she's entrapped within dysphoria induced suicidal ideation...

[weird-is-life]

pregnant reader and Spencer fic where he makes her cry on accident 😭😭

Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kisses, like one swear word, reader cries (not because of something bad tho, it's cute), use of pet names (0.6k)

Spencer is running late at least later than he'd told you he would be and he can't stress it more. You've been home alone almost the whole day, and Spencer knows you are probably more than lonely.

But even if he's already late Spencer makes one more stop to get some groceries before heading home to you.

When he finally arrives home, he can't stop apologising as you greet him by the door, the baby bump very visible underneath one of his sweaters.

"Hi sweetheart, I'm so sorry I'm late there was a problem we needed to deal with," Spencer apologises and kisses your cheek.

"It's okay, Spence," you say into his shirt, already hugging him tightly, "I missed you a lot though."

Spencer looks at you like he always does with a too loving smile, "I missed you two, too."

Spencer ushers you towards the couch, he doesn't want you to be standing for too long 'cause he knows your feet would hurt, and also because he intends to cuddle you as much as possible there.

He quickly unpacks the groceries, and remembers the snacks he's bought for you. What he doesn't know is that you've been craving exactly the same snack he's bought the entire day.

"Here I got you these sweetheart," Spencer gives the snacks to you and rushes to the bedroom to change into something much more comfortable than the suit.

You stay still, your eyes filling up with tears as you hold the snacks in your hands.

When he comes back to you, he finds you eating the snacks while the tears run down by your cheeks.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's wrong?" Spencer immediately sits next to you, and starts to wipe the tears away.

"I just....-" you start with small hiccup, "I just love you so much."

A warm chuckle escapes Spencer's mouth, before he's back to comforting you. He's read every single book there's on pregnancy, so he knows how tough it is with the changes of hormones.

"Oh, baby, I love you too is that why you're crying, huh? Or is it something else? Maybe me being late?" He really hope it isn't the latter.

"N-no, I just-... I just really wanted these snacks all day, Spence," you tell him as another set of tears escapes from your eyes, "a-and they are too good."

"Oh sweetheart, if I knew you wanted them so badly i would have bought more," Spencer tells you with a sympathetic smile.

He understands it can be a lot for you from time to time, even if it's something as simple as craving some snack, so he let's you eat your snacks while he wipes away the tears. He does that until the snacks are gone along with the tears.

You look just unhappy about finishing the snacks as you did minutes ago eating them. You give him a puppy eyes, and Spencer is up on his legs before you can even say his name.

"Spencer...?"

"Don't worry, lovely. I got it, I'll buy you more than enough," Spencer quickly gives you a kiss, and goes to put on his shoes, car keys already in his hand.

"Spence?"

"Yes?" he looks back at you so fucking lovingly completely unbothered about the fact that he has to go to the shop again that you think you might start crying again (Spencer loves you so much that it happens a lot, you crying about how much you love him).

"Of course, but only if you really want to. I don't mind going alone."

"I want to," you say enthusiasticly. That is all Spencer needs to take your shoes, and go back to you. He puts the shoes on for you, kisses your bump, and helps you get up.

"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll get you anything you want if you tell me about your day, " Spencer happily listens to you chatter about everything that crossed your mind through the day.

You and Spencer leave the shop with way too many snacks, but it's okay because you're happy as one can be and that's all Spencer needs, okay maybe the cuddles too.

[thrfted]

꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ

SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.

Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !

Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!

(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)

Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.

One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)

He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.

I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!

Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”

He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)

Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.

Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.

You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?

I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!

He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.

The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.

One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.

[nemesyaaa]

favorite crime // psycho!stalker!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; sometimes being the obsession of someone can turn really bad. sometimes being friend to someone doesn't mean that you really know this person, and mostly, that your kindness will be returned.

warnings : dark content. stalking. manipulation. crimes : murder/kidnapping. smut. sick, poker face, and insane behavior. toxic attitude. innocence kink. violence. dubcon. fear/vulnerability enthousiast. jealousy. dark!mean!rafe. corruption. abuse of power. creepy behavior. minors dni. as always, be careful with the warnings please. don't joke with it.

author's note : i really love how all my concepts with rafe are so fucked up. it's around 2,6k words.

as a shy and innocent girl, too kind for your own good and too sweet to attract nice boys, you had always attracted rafe's attention. especially when you were the pretty employee at his favorite video game store. it was only for you that he spent hours in front of the cash register, trying to get to know you when in reality, he knew you by heart, every detail of your life. he was obsessed with you. he was already terribly sick, diving into your perfect kindness and purity.

you didn't understand why people were afraid of him or said bad things about him because you found him charming and lovely. that was the impression he forced himself to give you. he always had nicknames for you like pumpkin, doll, cupcake, sweet, pretty thing.

the first time he walked into the store, your store manager was yelling at you. and you felt so ashamed and small. there were customers and that made you nervous. you were already crying, impossible to contain your tears in the face of the excess anger you received from this man. it wasn't the first time he did this but maybe the last.

you quickly returned to work, still in tears facing the products on the shelves and the new customer came to you. with a box of donuts. strangely, you didn't know how he could know that you liked it and that it was your favorite. but the attention was touching, more important for you.

“i bought them especially for you. it would hurt my heart if you refused them.”

“you didn’t have to do that.” you replied politely and smiled.

“i know but i wanted to do it. someone has to pay attention to you, and check on your messy health, pumpkin.”

"oh my manager is usually nice. i don't know what's going on."

"you're lying. you're lying because you're too kind to say bad things about people when they're fucking assholes. but don't worry, it won't happen again."

“how can you be sure?”

“enjoy your donuts, don’t think about anything else. let me ease you, pretty thing. ”

the next day, your manager had never been so nice to you. and the other days too. and he always disappeared in rafe's presence. it brought you a lot closer together, because now he came every day. you didn't know if rafe HAD time, or he FOUND it just for you. all you knew was that he made your days in the store so much better.

by coming here, he had become a loyal customer but also someone you could talk to, and he pretended not to know every moment of your private life while he spied on you as soon as he left the store.

he could stay in his car for hours until you finished work. he wasn't just watching you, no, he had also hacked into the cameras at your workplace to be able to record, listen and follow everything you did. nothing escaped him.

he was a jealous person and above all someone who didn't like having his ego attacked. that meant he definitely wasn't going to put up with you having this cute and perfect attitude with the other customers. well, especially men.

you were only doing your job for which you were poorly paid. to avoid getting bored and because you were trying to work on your shyness, you tried to come out of your shell by talking with customers.

but you made a mistake today. you didn't know it yet but you were going to regret it deeply and learn it hard.

"i think you're really pretty and you're so interesting..." the boy began, stammering a little, his elbows resting on the checkout counter. "i mean, it's rare to find girls like you... would you go out with me... i mean tonight haha! we could play a game ? "

it wasn't the first time you'd been flirted with, but certainly the first time you'd accepted. you had never dated anyone, you had never been in a relationship, you didn't even know what it felt like to truly be in love, to feel something for someone. and even if you were, you were too shy to admit it. but it was different, you wanted to try. you didn't have a plan tonight.

"you don't have to accept but here's my number..." he wrote on a post-it and you smiled back. you put it in the back pocket of your jeans.

you were so deep in thought that you couldn't have seen that the minute your new friend left the store, rafe got out of his car. he doesn't entered yet, he had something to sort out first.

but when he went to the store, you felt him different. there were bruises on his face, as if he had been in a fight. “what happened? do you want me to call an ambulance? "

“it's alright, pumpkin. it's just a little blood.”

“do you want me to take care of that?”

"it would be bad of me to abuse your time and your kindness. i have better things to offer, how about I walk you home tonight? i know your work is not close to where you live and i have my car right here...'

you had been surprised that he knew information like this. “no, don’t worry. besides, i’m busy this evening. ”

rafe's jaw tensed and contracted. he gave a tense and forced smile.

“ let me do this for you. you must be tired. ”

“you don’t need to do this for me, although I truly appreciate it.”

“you're wrong, i need to do this for you, sweetheart. just like everything you do for me. ”

“if you insist, it can’t kill me!”

if only you knew…

“ you're really so nice, pumpkin..."

“is that a bad thing?”

he scratched his chin with a light but somewhat dramatic smile before looking into your eyes. you were in ambiguous proximity since you were both leaning over the counter. he was taller than you, so you looked up.

"to be kind? no, not at all, sweetheart. it's just dangerous for you not to know who you're nice to. not all people are that sweet. sometimes they're really mean.”

“ what do…”

“ anyways, don't make me wait later. and you know you look really pretty today, you should dress up for me more often.”

you smiled. you couldn't ignore how nice it felt to receive a compliment, and especially from a pretty handsome boy. in one day, everything had gone by so quickly. you had a date, and rafe was taking you home. your evening promised to be perfect and unforgettable. you couldn’t wait.

at the end of the day. you had cleaned, tidied up all the shelves, turned off all the consoles, counted your cash register then closed shop in a breath of glory. you could finally relax.

as promised, rafe was waiting for you. he was leaning against his car, hands in his pockets.

he had opened your car door in a relatively clever way and then stood inside. he had closed the doors. and he had started. except he wasn't going the way to your house, he was going in the opposite direction.

“rafe, it’s not towards my house…”

“ i know, sweetheart, since we’re not going to your house.”

“but you said you were taking me home?”

“pumpkin, i lie a lot too.”

"rafe, i want to go home... seriously, this isn't fun. i have to meet someone tonight and he's going to wait for me ! "

“trust me, he’s not waiting for you.”

you were starting to panic because this really wasn't the person you knew. this time he didn't seem to be playing a character to please you. he was natural. you looked at him with big eyes. fear gripped your stomach, because you didn't know where you were going and he could go anywhere. you were on the verge of exploding, you needed to get out of that car but he was driving too fast.

“slow down, rafe. please, slow down.”

"oh no sweet thing, i make the rules here. you can't beg because i absolutely don't want to hear anything from you, you understand? i want you to stay nice and quiet like you've always been."

“rafe, fucking stop that car. "

he stopped suddenly, your head had hit the dashboard badly. he had gently lifted your face, putting your hair back in place while you cried into his hands from the emotion and shock.

“see? what happens when you swear like that? do you understand why you have to be polite now? it's a waste for a pretty girl like you to have such vocabulary. ”

you felt the tips of his lips on your nose, they were cold but comforting. there was something so bitter and disturbing in his tenderness as if there was nothing good even in his kindness. that all this affection was manipulation.

“i really want to go home.”

“i have a surprise for you. can you be patient?”

“ rafe, what is wrong…?”

“i’m taking care of you right now.”

"it's a kidnapping! i'm going to call the police."

he smiled wickedly as he resumed driving. “in your place, i wouldn’t make a single move. ”

“why? are you going to kill me?”

" oh i could, pumpkin. for now, i like you alive but if you still want to play silly with me, i might really want to. no, i will. so stay still and don’t make me be mean to you, i’d hate to have to hurt you.”

“if you don’t like hurting me, why are you doing this to me?” your tears were hot, rivers shining down your eyes. he was cruel and insensitive there. it didn't matter to him.

“ i really hate you..."

" oh such a pleasure actually pumpkin. tell me how much you hate me with those pretty annoying crybaby tears on your face. and don't forget to tell me when you're dry, i will gladly make you cry again. “

your throat felt tight and you were desperate. you had a knot in your stomach, fear that made you even more stupid and lost than you already were. because certainly, there was hatred but a lot of fear. he drove quietly, but he was mean to you. he no longer had the kind words he had for you when he came to see you at work. it was as if he was mad at you for something.

“what can i do to get you to take me home? "

“i could make you do a lot of things, but under no circumstances will i take you home.”

“you want sex? "

"oh i'm not sure that the virgin that you are would be able to make me cum but you can always prove me wrong."

“are you really going to kill me?”

“the more you ask me, the more i have the impression that this is what you would like.”

“i want to stay alive and go home.”

"you had to think about that before flirting with that idiot."

he had parked in an abandoned place, on a completely deserted road. when he opened the doors, you took your chance.

what a stupid mistake.

he was much bigger and faster than you. he had caught up with you without even running out of breath. he pulled you by the waist, pinning his arm against your bare stomach. he was clearly abusing all of his power. you had bitten him and he had released you. you fell heavily to the ground, and he positioned himself on top of you, crushing you against the grass with his fully beefy weight.

“it’s not time to play yet. try to escape from me again sweet thing, and i promise you that i will make sure that you have no more energy to run, but especially to escape. ” he had grabbed your jaw with one hand, gripping his fingers tightly against your skin. “and even if you are innocent, pumpkin. you and i know very well that you are aware of what i mean by that.”

your heart rate had increased so quickly. you were trapped and vulnerable. you wanted to spit in his face but you weren’t that suicidal.

he took your hand and placed it on his bulge which literally distorted his pants. “that's all that your heartbeat and your accelerated breathing make me feel right now. is it big? yes, and believe me i can make this bigger and very painful for you. so, no more playing, pumpkin.”

you nodded and he kissed your forehead. “you got it well, sweetheart. don’t let me be mean to you again because you’re really going to hate it.”

he stood up and extended his hand towards you. his tenderness was so unhealthy. he had taken you to the car and pulled a tied up boy out of the trunk.

the one you were supposed to see this evening. you let out a huge cry, taking several steps back but rafe took your hand, wrapping it too tightly against your little wrist.

“why did you do that? please leave me alone. i don’t want to see that!”

"oh oh, you're not the one who makes the rules here. i’m the only one who makes the fucking rules, i'm the only one who decides and not only do i decide what happens but also what role you're going to play. you wanted to flirt with this guy, go on a date with him? you had to be smarter and not do it in front of my eyes now look what you did this poor man is going to die because of you.”

"are you serious? you can't kill an innocent person! he didn't do anything."

"pumpkin, my sweet pumpkin, for every word you say, for every tear you shed, he will take a bullet. so please continue to defend him. i think we are already more than twenty"

you wanted to stop crying but you couldn't because the situation was surreal, horrible and so crazy. you refused to believe that rafe cameron could be a man like that.

“almost fifty. you're really going to kill him, sweetheart. you could be nicer. "

he was so sick and bad. he was taking advantage of the situation. it was completely sadistic. “i beg you to spare him.”

"now you beg for him? pumpkin, i’m the only one you can and should beg for."

he had fired more than fifty bullets into this poor guy's body. without the slightest shame, the slightest remorse and the slightest guilt. he didn't really feel anything. as you collapsed, completely devastated and ruined by what he had just done to you.

he had just killed a man in front of your eyes.

people always said that a guy who killed for you was romantic. but you didn't find it romantic. on the contrary, it had downright tortured you. you were afraid of him. you didn't even know how you managed not to piss on yourself because clearly, he was so creepy.

" i think he's dead." it was ironic, but coming from rafe, it wasn't funny or reassuring.

"what's wrong with you? and what are you doing with a gun? all those video games that made you sick or those horror movies?"

“watch your tone. you see how i killed him? it could be your turn too. ”

“no, don’t kill me!”

he moved closer to you, a laugh passing his lips. he knelt down to caress your tears with his thumb.

“you see what happens when you want to please others? how are you going to fix this now? ”

“i beg you to not kill me. ” you couldn't even see the ground, you were crying so much. it was a traumatic scene.

“now it's time to play. maybe i should have waited before killing him. i mean i wish he could watch you get destroyed by my cock. get in the car, and don't try to escape from me. i can be even more cruel to you. ”

he was hot and cold. all the time. you went to the car while you guessed that he must bury or hide the body somewhere. it had seemed like an eternity before he came back but on the one hand, there was something comforting about the fact that you weren't alone in the forest and that there was someone. even if it was cool.

he had gotten into the car. and patted his thighs to signal you to come on top. you didn't argue and came on his legs. you immediately felt his erection against the fabric of your underwear. it could hardly be ignored because the bulge had literally made you a few centimeters taller.

“are you still crying? he was a poor guy. he had a fucking girlfriend. do you want to date a guy who cheats on you? it's not worth it. you are better than that, you deserve better than that. ”

“by better, does that mean you? ”

“it’s different...but sure i would treat you better.”

“you killed someone in front of my eyes!”

“see? anything i can do for you.”

"you're sick and you ruined my life!"

"i’m tired of all this hysteria. i was going to kindly offer to prepare you with lube, but since you're offering me these pretty tears, we'll make do with it..."

“rafe…”

“oh no pumpkin. it’s not time to say my name yet.”

when he pushed himself inside you, the leaking tip slipped in your folds slick with a hard and brutal thrust. he made his way, watching his own cock stretching your cunt. you cried out from the pain, but you can't help but felt a little slight pleasure. “ if you're still crying for him, i swear i'm gonna fuck you until you're dry. ”

you started to bounce on him with your trembling legs, your ass slapping his thick thighs, your hair shaking on your shoulders, and your face ruined by your multiples and messy whining. you were tense as his girth splitted your sweet virgin cunt. he forced you to sped up the pace, smacking your butt every time you were too slow. his hands was big and strong, enough to feel the pain. especially, when the rings on his fingers left a mark on your poor skin. your tits were now on his hands, pressed firmly and your nipples on his mouth. he spat on them a couple of times. they were filled with spittles and marks, the succions noises in synchro with your rocking bodies. he was stuffed you with his hard dick. making you arched your back, and he placed his heavy hands on your waist, reaching your hips to help you go deeper, to fully take him, every inches.

“ it's like your pussy begging me to breed you…”

“ what…w-what is it ? ” you were too innocent to know those kinds of things.

you had the face and the attitude of an angel, too perfect, too pure, too delicate. “ maybe, it's better to show you, pumpkin. with that, you will be more able to learn the lesson and don't make me mad again. ”

“ what ? ” you gasped. you felt giddy but at the same time, curious.

“ m’ gonna make you so dirty, angel. tonight, you will lose your wings and purity for me. ”

“ please, don't hurt me ! ”

“ oh sweetheart, you're the only one to hurt me, the only one to make me do those kind of things..."

tysm @ahhnini for the idea of psycho!stalker!rafe <33

[arminsumi]

First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

2k

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

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