#i would get my gf a gun
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yuri-is-online · 3 months ago
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*sigh* ok fine. look game you win, I lose, the lame stupid demon man is sexy ok? He's cool. I like him. This is peak comedy to me. "oh lemme send you a gift pookie, make sure the post doesn't scan it because it's explosive. your gun fucking sucks btw don't worry i'll get you the good shit so you can know what it feels like to actually commit a crime." His first gift is a glass bottle of fucking bullets. The hell is he on-
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angelicdonuts · 24 days ago
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Guys I'm so sorry (I'm not) I love fnf soooo much dude
Anyway!! There's one more after this! It's gonna be oc focused :3 !
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like-wuatafauq · 6 months ago
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Sorry I'm not very good at amusement park games....this all I got:
*presents Cinnamoroll keychain*
They.. didn't have My Melody and...and.. I wasn't very good at the other games...but I tried....
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mayonnaise-sock · 2 years ago
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A few nights ago i had a dream with these two things in it. The goat was like some kind of guardian of the land the house i was in was built on, and the goat whispered bAd things in the dog’s ear until it got angry and started attacking any person it saw.
Fun dream
#when thr dog got mad i remember seeing a really up close shot of it’s face#come to think of it the dog might’ve bern inspired by squidward’s suicude#the close yo of the dog’s face was so unnerving in the dream i remember those eyes were so wide they lookrd like the skin arounf them would#tear#and the eyes were so sunken#and slowly as it got more and more angry the lifhtd in it’s ryes faded#tbh i only vaguely rememver yhe mouth#but the eyes stick with me#as gor the ‘goat’ i just remember this grin getting wider and wider as it whispered yo the dog#also there was a part in my dream where i was looking out the window with my brother’s gf and there wS a hunter trying to get the goat#and it managed to shoot the goat anf we looked away bc we thought it was a normal goat and it was gonna die#but when we looked back out the window the goat was gone and there wasn’t muchleft of the guy#he was spread out but it wasn’t gorey ig?#anf all of his hunting equipment was all spread out in like a grid? ig#30cmfrom each othet at 90 180 270 anf 360°#like knifes shoved hilt first into the ground#and each bullet and arrow too#idk why he was using a crossbow when he had guns but he did#also for some reason he ws carrying a lot of butter knifes#so those were in the ground too#so yeah fun dream#idk if anyone’s read this far lol#sorry for the bad spemming lol i cut my nails and bow i can’t function#dream i had#art#slightly unnerving art?#cursed art#i think that’s the right tag? sorry idk :(
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biblicalhorror · 2 years ago
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I keep going back and forth on how I feel about Jeff and I think I've landed on finding him ultimately just very boring and not in a good way sorry
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kimarii-00 · 5 months ago
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Honey would please write something like when Armando left his gf she is a hacker and a weapon specialist without saying anything turned out that's not the only person he left behind. ( Tiny a baby girl who like to hold a wooden spoon ) They meet again when they going to the ammo squad in bad boys for . Her Kelly are besties . Very very angst.
(I accidentally deleted the ask, but I wrote it down before I did so above is the prompt for this, asked by anonymous)
Regrets and Punishments
❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.
❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language
❥Word Count: 2.7k
❥Part 1/2
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AN: I’m ngl I’m not sure if you meant that you wanted them to have a kid or not, but I wrote it just in case, let me know if that's not what you wanted and I’ll rewrite it! (I also gave the kid a name)
I think I’m going to make this a two parter because I kinda took this prompt and ran with it lol
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He never thought he’d see you again. As much as he didn’t want to, he accepted the fact that he’d fucked up your relationship when he decided to leave you in favor of helping his mothers’ dirty work. He didn’t even give you so much as a call after he’d left to let you know that he was even alive. He only hoped that you were doing fine on your own.
Nonchalantly, Armando walked through the door to the house of the people Mike and Marcus knew, not giving a damn about the warning to stay outside like Mike had told him to. No wonder a gun was drawn and pointed at him as soon as he stepped foot in the home.
“Woah, woah! Kelly-” Mike began his attempt to mediate the situation, “I asked you to wait outside for a second… Alright, Kelly, he’s with us.” Standing in between the gun and his son.
“He can’t be here.” Kelly retorted, keeping her gaze on the wanted criminal standing before her.
“This is my son, Armando.”
“I know who he is and that’s why he can’t be here,” The gun never faltered as she spoke with a solid, demanding voice, “I trust you with my life, but I sure as shit don’t trust him.”
“I trust him,” Mike confirmed.
“Then take him to your house.”
Dorn cleared his throat, trying to release some of the tension that had built in the room. Armando said nothing as Dorn came over to try to calm his girlfriend, and Mike took his son to the opposite side of the room.
Marcus sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and snatched up a bag of chips, “This is some dysfunctional shit.” He said, looking back and forth between the two duos.
They came back together after a minute or two. “She’s fine,” Dorn said.
“She don’t look fine…” Marcus expressed, taking in the obvious irritation and discomfort on her face.
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” Everyone turned in the direction of Armando, where he only opened the fridge to grab a drink.
“It’s the language barrier,” Marcus explained to Dorn.
“It was English!”
“It was definitely English.”
“I have to call someone. I’ll be back,” Kelly said, picking up her phone and already beginning to dial, “If I’m going to do this I’m gonna need another girl here. She’ll be able to help with the tech stuff too.”
“Is it–” Dorn began, but cut himself off when Kelly nodded, “Tell her to leave Demi at home, we don’t know what kind of shit we’re getting into.”
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When you got the call from Kelly, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it. She told you she needed you to come over, but when you asked her why, she only said something about “emotional support”. You’d tried to press her for more details but she only mentioned having some people over and needing your tech skills. After a while, you just decided you’d go, but not before you handled your own business.
“Demi, come here please!” You called out while folding another shirt, making a nice crease and adding it to your pile of similar neatly folded shirts.
The aggressive pitter-patter of small feet hitting your hardwood floors alerted you that the person you’d called for was on their way.
“Mama!” You felt the bed on which you were folding clothes dip a bit as a weight threw itself into the soft mattress. You smile when you set your eyes on the girl who is smiling to herself contently—your daughter.
“Mimi, mama has to leave soon,” You said as you picked her up and set her on your hip so you could continue to fold while holding your toddler, “Tiara should be here soon to look after you, okay?” You say, referring to your babysitter that you should probably be paying more considering how many times you’ve called her in the past week or so.
“Mama leaving… again?” Your heart dropped when you watched the smile fade from your daughter's face when she realized you were going to be gone and she was going to be left with the babysitter for what felt like the hundredth time. You always felt bad when things like this came up but… you couldn’t just blow Kelly off. Not after all she’s done for you.
“Yes… Mama’s leaving, I’m sorry baby but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can okay?” You tried to cheer her up by giving her stomach a few tickles but your daughter was as stubborn as they come, her pout seemingly permanently stuck to her face.
The doorbell stole your attention and you gently set your daughter down. She followed you to the front door, and when you opened it her permanent pout was replaced with nothing but… confusion. You joined her in sporting this facial expression when you both looked at the stranger at your doorstep.
“Can I.. help you?” You ask the woman. She had a soft smile on her face, but for some reason, it didn’t seem welcoming.
“I’m your babysitter.” The woman replied.
“Um… I’m sorry there must be some mistake. My usual babysitter’s name is Tiara, I called her a while ago-”
“Tiara asked me to come here in her stead, she isn’t feeling too well, unfortunately. I’m a coworker of hers.” The woman explained, but you weren’t convinced. Tiara hadn’t mentioned any of this to you when you called her-
Just then, as you were about to make up your mind about whether or not you wanted to slam the door on the lady, you received a message from… Tiara.
3:34 Tiara (Babysitter): Hey, so sorry for the inconvenience but I’m not feeling good today, I sent over my coworker because I know you needed a sitter ASAP! Her name is Sara.
“What was your name again?” You asked, slowly taking your eyes off of your phone and to the lady, still wearing that smile on her face.
“Sara.”
You look her up and down once more before stepping to the side to let the woman inside. Your daughter hid behind and clung to your leg, only peeking out when she was sure the strange woman was not looking at her.
“Um… This is Demi,” You gesture to the girl who has glued herself to your right leg. You try to get her to say hello but she refuses. Sara stoops down to your daughter's level and tries to wave at her but Demi only scooches further out of sight. “The fridge is fully stocked, there are only a few weres, really: Don’t invite anyone else over, no drinking, oh and her bedtime is 8:30.”
“Please do not worry, I’m sure me and Demi will have a great time together.” Sara expresses, that damn smile still plastered on her face. There’s something about this lady that you just don’t like, but if Tiara sent her then it’s probably just you overreacting, right?
“Right… Could I get your phone number, just in case?” You say. She recites her number to you and you quickly enter it into your phone and save the contact, just in case of an emergency. You then turn around and kneel to look your daughter in the face.
“Be good, okay Mimi? I promise I’ll be back soon,” You say, giving her a quick peck on the forehead and a hug. She looks extremely hesitant and to be honest, so are you, but you’re already running late… “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Demi says meekly.
You smile and turn to leave.
If Tiara sent her, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?
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You parked in front of the house that your best friend and her boyfriend lived in. You had no guesses as to why she called you here, but if your technology skills could be useful to her, you’d want to help in any way you can.
You knock on the door and after a while, Kelly answers but stops you before you can go inside. “We kind of got ourselves in some shit, we’ll fill you in.”
She grabs your wrist, pulls you inside, and closes the door shut. The first thing that you lay your eyes on is the monitors that Dorn was sifting through. Pulling up various pictures of people and files that look confidential.
Should I even be here right now…?
“What's the situation?” You ask as you move towards Dorn.
“Remember when we told you all that stuff about Captain Conrad–”
“(Name)?”
You pause when you hear your name. The voice sounds so familiar you're almost scared to turn around and see who it was that called you. You think you know who it was that called, which is probably another reason as to why it takes you so very long to fully turn and face the man that has broken your heart time and time again.
It’s like the world stopped. All of a sudden, everyone in that room except for the man in front of you was irrelevant. There were so many things you wanted to say, yet no words left your mouth.
What is he doing here?
Why is he here?
All of the emotions flowing through you quickly became too much. Without a word, your feet guided you to the nearest room in which you could be alone.
“Do yall know each other?” Mike asked, but received no answer when his son went after the girl, “Do they know each other?” He asked in a more general way, but was met with nothing. The tension silenced everyone.
You ripped your arm out of the hand that had caught it when you reached the empty room. “Get the fuck off of me! What the hell are you doing here?” You exclaimed angrily. All of a sudden, all of those feelings you felt were entirely replaced by rage. Anger, directed at the man who’d left you without a second thought.
“I–” Armando began, but was cut off.
“Y’know what, I don’t care! Get the hell out of my face!”
“(Name), wait– stop,” He said, grabbing hold of your bicep when you tried to turn away from him again.
“You have some fucking nerve!” You growled, entirely in shock of the fact that he thinks he’ll just have a nice chat with you, “I haven’t seen your ass in years! Not a fucking call, or even a damn text! Nothing!”
“I know, I know, I didn’t plan on it being like that,” he pointed out. In actuality, he had no clue or reason as to why he followed you here. He knew he fucked up their relationship and a few words wasn’t going to change that fact. So why was he so desperate to get you to hear him out? He was never like this. It’s been years, why do you still have this weird affect on him?
“Yeah? Well I never planned on being abandoned by you, but look where we fuckin’ are now. Get the hell away from me,” You seethed. He had no clue how hard you were trying not to cry, “I said get the hell off of me!”
You snatch your arm from his grip. Deep down, underneath all of the anger that had boiled up to the surface, you’d missed Armando. You really did. Dealing with the pain of losing him, and never hearing from him until, well now. Taking care of Demi–
Does he even know about Demi? Does he know he’s a…
“Guys, so sorry to interrupt but we have a problem,” Kelly announced from around a corner. You hold eye contact with Armando for a few more seconds, trying to read his face but ultimately giving up. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. You stomp out of the room, and he lags behind you.
Upon entering the room where everyone was gathering around Dorn and his monitors, you see he is tapped into someone's security feed, which you quickly find out is Marcus’ and Mikes’ homes where their families were. Dorn was notifying the police to send backup and you realize that there are people attempting to break into the homes. Does this have something to do with their investigation with Captain Conrad?
Mike and Marcus grab their phones and quickly make calls, telling their people to hide, and leave their houses. You watch the cameras and watch as the masked men make their way into the two guys’ respective houses.
“Fuck, fuck!” Marcus says when he watches someone from his house grab a gun from a safe and hide the rest of the family in a closet. You can only home that whoever Marcus decided to trust with his family’s safety was skilled.
Everyone watches and commentates on the man's performance in the security feed, taking down the trespassers one by one until he is able to safely transport the rest of the family out of the house, but not before saluting to the security camera for us onlookers to see.
Mike is not so lucky, as he is not able to reach his wife in time to warn her and the girl who was with her at the time. We all have to watch when she’s easily overpowered and tied up. Mike is still on the phone with her, able to hear everything that’s going on.
A sudden devious voice sounds through the phone, one that was definitely not his wife, “Mr. Lowrey.”
“Who am I speaking to?” Mike lowers his voice and says in a serious tone.
“I think you know who you’re speaking to,” the voice says ominously, “I need your boy, and whatever evidence your beloved Captain has foiled away.” You eye Armando whose eyes were flicking back and forth from the phone to Mike, “And for that, you can have your wife. I’ll call you back with instructions.”
“Ah, shit…” Mike grumbles, but the man on the other side of the phone has not yet hung up.
“Ms. (Name), I know you’re there as well.” Your heart drops to your toes. What could this man want with you? “I’d go ahead and check the security systems for your house as well.” A beep was heard as the man hung up and your eyes widened. No…
He wouldn't, right? You had nothing to do with this operation.
Nevertheless, you pushed Dorn out of the way and pulled up your homes’ cameras, and scanned for anything out of the ordinary. You spotted Demi playing with dolls in her room. The only thing was that you couldn’t spot the babysitter, but you figured she must’ve been in the bathroom.
You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.
“Who’s kid is that?” Armando spoke up. You looked over but didn’t fully turn around, fearing he’d already figured it out, and just wanted clarification. You were afraid. You were afraid that if he found out, he’d come back into your life. Demi’s life. You didn’t want to get hurt again. You don’t think you could handle him leaving you again, so you stayed silent. You left the question to hang in the air.
The breath you let out was sucked back in when you saw your front door open slightly, then all the way and three masked intruders walked in. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, snatching up your phone and dialing the phone number you’d received from the new babysitter before. She answered after one ring, which you were entirely grateful for, “Sara, grab Demi and get the hell out of there, now. Please!” You frantically spew out. You’d be surprised if she caught any of that.
There was no response on the other end until Sara spoke, “There’s people in the house?” She asked, too calm for your liking.
“Yes, so grab Demi and get the fuck out of there. Take the window if you have to, they’re searching the living room right now,” You say, watching the men search the living room and kitchen, slowly making their way down the hallway which they would find your daughter.
Again, no response. That is, until the chilling words made their way into your ears. “Finally, I was wondering when they’d arrive.” And she hung up.
Your eyes were blown wide enough to where you were sure you were going to start hearing colors and seeing sounds. You were speechless and your heart was racing a mile a minute as you watched the ‘babysitter’ pick your daughter up and… deliver her to the intruders.
You could only watch, helpless as your daughter was kidnapped.
What the hell just happened?
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cryptidghostgirl · 9 months ago
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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership
And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”
Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle
Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...
Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?
Alastor: sureeeeee
And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit
and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”
And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)
I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3
A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.
Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.
The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.
"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."
Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.
"Sure." she teased.
"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.
"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."
Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.
It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.
"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.
Y/n just shrugged.
"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."
Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.
"Sure."
They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.
Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.
He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.
Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.
"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."
Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.
"What a shame."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. It works well enough."
"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."
"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"
Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.
"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.
"Oh?" Y/n asked.
She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.
"Yep."
"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.
"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."
"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."
"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."
She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.
"Are you proposing we work together?"
"You're the one who said it, not me."
Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.
"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"
"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."
Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.
"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."
Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.
"Deal."
Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.
As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.
It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.
They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.
"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.
Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.
"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."
"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.
Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.
"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."
"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.
"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."
Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.
"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.
"Oh this is totally a date."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.
She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.
"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.
"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."
"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.
"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."
Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.
"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."
Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.
"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.
"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.
"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"
"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.
Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.
"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."
"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."
Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.
"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"
"Blue eyes?"
"Umm... yeah."
"Yep, that was me."
"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."
Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.
The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.
They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.
Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.
That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.
Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.
Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.
At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.
"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Y/n."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."
Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.
"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"
Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.
"What, you fucking want some too?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.
Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.
"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.
"He what?"
"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."
Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.
"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.
At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.
"Well, he's definitely dead."
Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.
"He deserved it."
Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.
"Can you walk me home?"
Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.
"Of course, my dear."
They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.
No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.
"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."
"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."
"I... It's about Y/n."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"
"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."
"Spill."
"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."
"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"
"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"
"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."
"I thought your dad was dead?"
"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."
"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"
"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."
"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"
"Just something, okay?"
"I have got to quiz her about this."
"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."
"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"
"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."
"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"
"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"
She sighed.
"Alastor, you have a crush on her."
A beat.
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."
"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.
This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.
"Are you sure?"
"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."
"Fuck."
Mimzy laughed.
"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."
"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."
"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."
Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.
Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.
When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.
Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.
"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."
"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."
"The way... he ran?"
"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.
Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.
"Didn't you see?" she asked again.
"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."
"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."
She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.
"Alastor."
Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.
He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.
There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.
They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.
"I-"
"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."
Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.
"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."
"We will not be swingers."
Y/n laughed.
"Just had to make that clear."
"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago
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hii wondering if you could write a little something about to how spencer would react to an undercover mission going wrong with his gf??<3 whether she’s on the mission alone or together with him is up to you
Where We Were Meant to Be
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst
Warnings/Includes: kidnapping, guns, typical case talk, break ups (not spencer), feelings talks, being injured
Word count: 7.8k
a/n: i took a little bit of creative liberty with this one i hope that's okay! it's spencer's best friend that he just so happens to be in love with heheh --- also this is meant to be a treat because i only posted once yesterday <333
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Spencer Reid was a man of many secrets, but the one that weighed the heaviest on him was the love he harbored for you. It was a love that grew quietly over time, nurtured by the countless hours spent together, the late-night conversations that often veered into deep, uncharted emotional territory, and the shared experiences that bonded you in ways that words could never fully capture.
Everyone at the BAU knew how close the two of you were. It was impossible not to notice. From the way your eyes would light up whenever Spencer entered a room to the ease with which you could communicate without saying a word, it was evident that you shared a connection that transcended the ordinary.
"You two are like two halves of the same brain," Derek would often joke, a knowing grin on his face as he watched you and Spencer exchange another one of your silent conversations.
"Or the same heart," Penelope would add with a playful wink, causing you to blush and Spencer to give her a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
But despite the teasing, no one knew the depth of Spencer's feelings. No one knew that every time you smiled at him, his heart ached with a longing that he buried deep within himself. No one knew that every time your hand brushed against his, he had to remind himself that it meant nothing more than friendship—because that was all you could offer him.
You had a partner. A good one, at that. Spencer had met them a few times, and he couldn't find a single flaw. They were kind, intelligent, and treated you with the love and respect you deserved. It made things easier and harder all at once. Easier, because he knew you were happy, and that's all he'd ever wanted for you. Harder, because he couldn't help but wish that he were the one to make you feel that way.
But Spencer was nothing if not practical. He had always been good at compartmentalizing his emotions, and he used that skill now to keep his feelings in check. He accepted your relationship with grace, never once letting on that every "we" you mentioned with your partner's name attached chipped away at his heart. He forced himself to focus on the friendship you shared, cherishing every moment, every laugh, every secret confided.
In his quieter moments, Spencer allowed himself to dream. He imagined what it would be like to be the one who held your hand as you navigated life’s challenges, to be the one who made you laugh on your hardest days, to be the one you turned to when the world felt like too much. But those dreams were fleeting, and he always pushed them away, reminding himself that you were happy, and that was what mattered.
One evening, after a particularly tough case, the team decided to unwind at Rossi's place. The atmosphere was relaxed, the tension of the day slowly dissipating as everyone gathered around with drinks in hand. You sat next to Spencer, your shoulder lightly brushing against his as you leaned in to whisper something that made him chuckle softly.
"See, this is why you're my favorite," you teased, poking him playfully in the side.
"Flattery won’t get you anywhere," Spencer replied, his voice tinged with affection as he looked at you, his gaze lingering just a moment too long.
You caught it, your smile softening as you reached out to squeeze his hand. "You're the best, you know that?"
"Only because I have the best friend," he responded, squeezing your hand in return before letting go, trying to ignore the way his heart raced at the simple contact.
The night continued, filled with laughter and stories, but Spencer couldn’t help but feel the weight of his unspoken feelings pressing down on him. It was a bittersweet sensation, knowing that he would never be able to tell you the truth, that he would never be able to cross the invisible line that separated friendship from something more.
As the evening wound down and people started to leave, you lingered behind with Spencer, helping him clean up the remnants of the gathering. It was something the two of you often did, slipping into a comfortable rhythm as you worked side by side in silence.
Once the dishes were done and the living room tidied, you both collapsed into your car, a comfortable silence settling between you.
"Thanks for sticking around," Spencer said, his voice soft as he turned to look at you.
"Of course," you replied, meeting his gaze with a tired smile. "You're my person, Spencer. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
Your words hit him harder than you could have imagined. He swallowed, forcing himself to smile even as his heart twisted painfully in his chest. "And you're mine," he whispered, more to himself than to you.
You rested your head on his shoulder, letting out a content sigh as you closed your eyes. Spencer remained still, afraid to move, afraid that the moment would shatter if he so much as breathed too loudly.
In that moment, Spencer allowed himself to believe, just for a second, that things could be different. That maybe, in another life, in another world, he could be the one you chose. But as your breathing evened out, signaling that you had fallen asleep, he knew that such thoughts were futile.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled back, his heart heavy with the weight of what could never be. 
And so, he continued to keep his secret, burying it deep within himself as he held onto the one thing he could have—your friendship. It wasn't everything, but it was enough. It had to be enough.
The briefing room was unusually quiet as Hotch laid out the details of the mission. The tension in the air was palpable, the seriousness of the situation evident in the way Hotch’s voice took on that hard, steely edge he reserved for the most dangerous of cases. You sat next to Spencer, your hands folded neatly in your lap, trying to keep your expression neutral as the reality of what was being asked of you sank in.
The unsub had escalated, and the BAU was running out of time. The only way to catch him was to go undercover, to insert yourselves into his world, to become the very thing he was hunting. And for this, Hotch had chosen you and Spencer to pose as husband and wife.
The room emptied out after the briefing, but Spencer lingered, his brows furrowed, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. He looked at you, searching your face as if trying to find a way to convince you to change your mind before he even spoke.
“This is too dangerous,” he began, his voice low and urgent. “You shouldn’t go. We can find another way—there has to be another way.”
You reached out to him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Spencer, we’ve been through worse. We can handle this.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, his voice trembling slightly. “This isn’t just another case. This is… it’s different. If something goes wrong—if he even suspects for a second that we’re not who we say we are—” His voice caught in his throat, and he looked away, swallowing hard.
You squeezed his arm, trying to anchor him. “Spencer, look at me.”
Reluctantly, he turned back to you, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and desperation that broke your heart.
“We’re the best shot at stopping him,” you said gently. “You know that. If it were anyone else, I’d be just as worried. But it’s us. We’ve got this.”
His hands balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. “But what if something happens to you? I couldn’t—” He stopped, his breath hitching as he tried to compose himself. “I couldn’t live with that.”
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, at the raw vulnerability he was showing you. “Spencer,” you whispered, stepping closer, “I know it’s risky. I know you’re scared. But I’m scared too. And that’s why we have to be careful, why we have to trust each other.”
Spencer’s eyes softened, but the fear was still there, clinging to him like a shadow. “I do trust you. It’s just… I can’t lose you.”
The intensity of his words hung in the air, a confession of something deeper, something unspoken between you. You felt your heart twist, knowing how much he cared, how much he had always cared.
“You won’t lose me,” you promised, your voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “We’ll go in, do what we need to do, and get out. Together.”
He nodded slowly, though the worry in his eyes didn’t diminish. “Promise me you’ll be careful. No risks, no heroics.”
You smiled softly, trying to ease the tension. “I promise. We’re in this together.”
The days leading up to the mission were a blur of preparations, briefings, and final checks. Spencer was quieter than usual, his mind clearly racing with thoughts of what could go wrong. You tried to stay focused, knowing that you both needed to be sharp for this to work.
When the day finally arrived, you found yourselves in a small, nondescript hotel room that served as your cover. The ruse was simple: you and Spencer were a newlywed couple, traveling through the area, the perfect targets for the unsub’s twisted games.
The charade was almost too real, the way Spencer’s hand rested on the small of your back as you entered the hotel lobby, the way he leaned in to whisper something in your ear as you checked in. The familiarity of it all was both comforting and disconcerting.
The hotel room’s dim lighting cast a warm glow over the space, but it was nothing compared to the light in Spencer’s eyes as he looked at you. You had just finished getting ready for the final phase of the mission, slipping into the elegant dress that completed your undercover persona as the charming, newlywed wife. As you turned to face him, adjusting the last of your jewelry, Spencer’s breath seemed to catch in his throat.
“You look absolutely stunning,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. There was a softness in his tone, a tenderness that seemed to seep into every syllable. His eyes, those expressive hazel eyes, were locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
For a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. The mission, the danger, the need to keep up the pretense—it all faded into the background. All that mattered was the way Spencer was looking at you, with so much love and adoration that it was almost overwhelming.
But then, as quickly as it had surfaced, Spencer seemed to reel it back in. He blinked, his expression shifting as he forced a small smile, trying to play it off. “I mean, it’s… it’s perfect for the mission. You look exactly like someone who would turn every head in the room.”
You could hear the faint waver in his voice, the way he tried to rationalize the emotion he had just displayed. He chalked it up to the nature of the mission, to the need to sell the story, but deep down, he knew there was more to it.
“Thank you, Spencer,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that were bubbling just beneath the surface, unspoken but undeniably present.
Spencer nodded, averting his gaze as he adjusted his tie, trying to focus on the task at hand. But the way his hands trembled ever so slightly, the way his jaw clenched as he fought to regain his composure, didn’t go unnoticed by you.
You took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. “We’ll be okay, you know,” you said, trying to reassure him, to reassure yourself.
He looked up at you, his eyes once again filled with that same deep, intense emotion. “I know,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. “As long as you’re with me, I know we’ll be okay.”
For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with unspoken words and hidden desires. It was as if the world had paused, holding its breath as you both stood on the precipice of something that could change everything.
But then, with a deep breath, Spencer forced himself to step back, his professional mask sliding back into place. “We should get going,” he said, his voice firmer now, though there was still a lingering softness in his eyes.
You nodded, trying to push down the emotions that were threatening to spill over. “Right. Let’s do this.”
And as you left the room together, hand in hand, the lines between mission and reality blurred just a little more, leaving you both wondering what would be left once the dust settled.
The situation had spiraled out of control so fast that it felt like a nightmare, the kind where everything you feared the most came true. One moment, you and Spencer were navigating the careful dance of your undercover roles, blending into the crowd at the lavish party where you hoped to catch the unsub off guard. The next, everything went dark—both literally and figuratively.
The unsub was smarter than they’d anticipated. He saw through the act, his twisted mind zeroing in on your every move, every glance exchanged with Spencer. And then, in an instant, the plan unraveled. The lights flickered, and when they came back on, you were no longer standing by Spencer's side. You were in the unsub’s grip, his arm around your throat, his gun pressed against your temple.
“Spencer!” you cried out, your voice filled with a terror that tore through him like a knife.
Spencer’s heart stopped in that moment. The blood drained from his face as he saw you, saw the fear in your eyes, the way you struggled against the unsub’s iron grip. His mind raced, every possible scenario playing out in rapid succession, each one worse than the last. He could feel his entire world crashing down around him, the panic setting in, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.
“Let her go!” Spencer’s voice was raw, desperate, his hand reaching out instinctively as if he could pull you back to him by sheer force of will. “You don’t want to do this. We can help you. Just—just let her go, please.”
But the unsub only sneered, tightening his hold on you, dragging you backward toward the exit. “Help me? You’re the ones who need help. You think I didn’t see through your little charade? You think I didn’t know?”
Spencer felt his knees buckle as he watched the unsub’s every move, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t. The thought of it was too much, too overwhelming. He tried to take a step forward, but the unsub jabbed the gun harder against your head, making you gasp in pain.
“Stay back, or I’ll blow her brains out right here!” the unsub snarled, his eyes wild with a dangerous mix of paranoia and rage.
“Please,” Spencer begged, his voice cracking, his eyes pleading as he tried to reason with a man who seemed beyond reason. “Don’t hurt her. You don’t have to do this. We can talk, we can—”
But the unsub wasn’t listening. He was already backing out of the room, dragging you with him. And then, before Spencer could react, you were gone—thrown into a nondescript van that peeled away from the curb, leaving Spencer standing there, frozen in horror.
The moment you disappeared from sight, something in Spencer snapped. He was a man undone, no longer the composed, brilliant profiler but a man in the throes of utter despair. He spun around, his eyes wild as he looked at the rest of the team, who had arrived just in time to witness the tail end of the horror show.
“We have to find her!” Spencer’s voice was a shout, laced with a hysteria that made everyone in the room tense up. “We have to find her now!”
“Reid, we’re going to do everything we can,” Hotch said, his voice calm and steady, trying to contain the situation, but it only seemed to fuel Spencer’s rage.
“You sent her in there!” Spencer roared, pointing an accusatory finger at Hotch, his voice trembling with fury and anguish. “You sent her in there, and now she’s gone! You did this!”
“Spencer, we’ll find her,” JJ said softly, trying to step in, but Spencer wasn’t hearing it. His mind was a blur of panic, grief, and guilt. All he could see was you, the terror in your eyes, the way you had been dragged away from him.
“No! You don’t understand!” Spencer was nearly hysterical now, his voice breaking, tears streaming down his face as he continued to lash out. “She’s out there alone, and it’s our fault! We have to get her back! We have to—” 
“Reid, stand down!” Hotch commanded, his voice taking on a sharper tone, but it did nothing to calm Spencer.
“No!” Spencer screamed, his hands shaking as he pointed at Hotch again. “You don’t get to tell me to stand down! You don’t get to tell me to do anything after what you’ve done!”
Hotch exchanged a quick glance with Rossi, who gave a small nod, understanding that Spencer was too far gone, too deep in his emotions to be reasoned with right now.
“Reid, go back to the hotel,” Hotch ordered, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. “We’ll handle the search. You need to stand down.”
But Spencer didn’t move. He just stood there, shaking, his eyes wild and red-rimmed, the pain etched so deeply into his features that it was almost unbearable to look at. He wanted to fight, to do something, anything to bring you back. But all he could do was fall apart, right there in front of everyone.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he finally gave in to the grief that was tearing him apart. “Please bring her back.”
“Go back to the hotel, Reid,” Hotch repeated, softer this time, but still with that commanding presence. “We’ll find her.”
Spencer didn’t want to go. Every fiber of his being wanted to stay, to fight, to tear the city apart if that’s what it took to find you. But he was too broken, too shattered to argue anymore. So, with one last, desperate look at Hotch, he turned and left, his heart heavy, his mind spinning with every horrible possibility.
Back at the hotel, Spencer was a man possessed. He couldn’t sit, couldn’t think straight. He paced the room, his thoughts running in endless circles, every one of them coming back to you and the unimaginable fear that you were out there, somewhere, hurt or worse. The room felt too small, too suffocating, and he found himself screaming, yelling out your name, cursing at the walls as if they could give him answers.
When the anger wasn’t enough to dull the pain, the tears came full force. He collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands as he sobbed, the grief pouring out of him in waves. He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t. The thought of it was too much, and yet it was all he could think about.
Hours passed, though it felt like an eternity, and still, there was no word. No update. No sign of you. Spencer felt like he was drowning in the silence, the waiting, the not knowing. Every second that ticked by felt like another piece of him being torn away, until there was nothing left but the hollow shell of a man who had once been whole.
When the phone finally rang, Spencer lunged for it, his heart in his throat as he answered, his voice shaking with desperation. 
But it wasn’t you. It wasn’t even news about you. It was Hotch, telling him to stay put, telling him that they were still searching, still trying to find you. It was a command wrapped in reassurance, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside Spencer.
“Just bring her back,” Spencer whispered, his voice barely audible, broken. “Please, bring her back to me.”
And as he hung up the phone, Spencer curled up on the bed, clutching your jacket that still held the faintest scent of you, and prayed with every ounce of his being that you would come back to him, that this nightmare would end, and that he wouldn’t lose the most important person in his life.
Spencer was pacing the floor of the hotel room, his mind a whirlwind of fear, guilt, and desperation. The silence of the room felt like it was closing in on him, pressing down on his chest until he could hardly breathe. Every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and the only thing keeping him from completely unraveling was the hope that the team would find you before it was too late.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he nearly fumbled it in his haste to answer. “Derek?” he gasped, his voice tight with panic.
“Reid        , we think we found her,” Derek said, his tone serious but laced with urgency. “She’s at an abandoned warehouse on the east side, just off of River Street. We’re heading there now.”
Spencer didn’t wait for another word. He grabbed his keys and bolted out of the hotel, the thought of you in danger propelling him forward with a speed he didn’t know he was capable of. The drive to the warehouse was a blur of speeding cars, red lights he didn’t bother stopping for, and the singular focus of getting to you as fast as he could.
When he pulled up to the warehouse, he barely threw his car into park before he was out the door, sprinting toward the cluster of agents and medics near the entrance. The sight of them only made his heart race faster, a mix of relief and dread coiling in his stomach.
“Where is she?” he shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation as he pushed his way through the crowd.
The sight of you nearly brought him to his knees. You were lying on a stretcher, your body bruised and battered, your face pale and drawn, as if the life had been drained out of you. The medics were working quickly, checking your vitals, hooking you up to an IV, but all Spencer could focus on was the faint sound of your voice, weak and trembling, as you mumbled incoherently.
“My love,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “Where is my love?”
The words broke Spencer’s heart into a thousand pieces. He rushed forward, ignoring the shouts of the other agents as he made his way to your side. You were so fragile, so small against the harsh metal of the stretcher, and all he wanted to do was gather you in his arms, protect you from the world, from everything that had hurt you.
The medics began to wheel you toward the ambulance, but as they moved, you caught sight of Spencer, your eyes fluttering open just enough to recognize him. Despite the pain, despite the exhaustion that weighed you down, you tried to sit up, your hand reaching out toward him as if he were the only thing that could keep you tethered to life.
“My love,” you said again, your voice cracking with emotion, your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him.
Spencer was at your side in an instant, grabbing your extended hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’m here, I’m right here,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held onto you like you were his lifeline.
The medics glanced at Spencer, recognizing the emblem on his jacket, the desperation in his eyes. “I’m riding with her,” Spencer told them, his voice leaving no room for argument.
The medics nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. They helped Spencer climb into the ambulance, making room for him next to you as they continued to work. Spencer never let go of your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your bruised knuckles, his heart breaking at the sight of you so weak, so vulnerable.
As the ambulance sped away, sirens blaring, Spencer leaned in close, his voice soft and soothing as he whispered to you. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your eyes fluttered open again, your gaze locking onto his as you tried to muster the strength to speak. “I was so scared,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks as you clung to his hand.
“I know,” Spencer said, his own voice cracking as he fought back his tears. “I was too. But you’re safe now. We’re going to get through this, okay? I promise.”
You nodded weakly, your eyes drifting shut again as exhaustion took over. But even as you slipped into unconsciousness, you kept your hand in his, holding on as if he were your only anchor in the storm.
And Spencer held on too, refusing to let go, refusing to let the fear, the guilt, the overwhelming emotions consume him. All that mattered was you—keeping you safe, getting you through this. He couldn’t think about anything else, couldn’t allow himself to imagine a world where you weren’t with him.
As the ambulance raced toward the hospital, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his voice a quiet promise in the chaos. “I love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them, before he could overthink them.
But it didn’t matter now. There was no taking it back, no more hiding how he felt. And as the ambulance tore through the night, Spencer made a silent vow that he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, to bring you back to him—because losing you wasn’t an option. Not now. Not ever.
The antiseptic smell of the hospital was a sharp contrast to the warmth of Spencer's presence beside you. The sterile environment only emphasized how vulnerable and fragile you felt, lying in the hospital bed with a sling supporting your broken collarbone. The pain was manageable, dulled by the medication the doctors had administered, but the emotional whirlwind you were caught in was another matter entirely.
Spencer had been there since the moment you arrived, never leaving your side. His eyes, red-rimmed and exhausted, had stayed fixed on you, watching over you with a mix of concern and something deeper that you couldn’t quite name. He was a mess of emotions—fear, relief, and something bordering on anger, though you knew it wasn’t directed at you.
You were just beginning to doze off when a nurse entered the room, gently informing you that your partner had arrived. Your heart clenched at the words, not out of relief or comfort, but out of a confusing sense of dread. Spencer’s hand tightened slightly around yours, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but one that spoke volumes. He was still there, still holding onto you, but you could feel the shift in the air, the way his grip loosened as the footsteps approached.
When your partner stepped into the room, their eyes filled with worry and love, Spencer immediately withdrew his hand, standing up to make room. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his jaw clenched as he forced himself to step back, to let go.
“Thank you for taking care of her,” your partner said softly, their voice sincere as they looked at Spencer with genuine gratitude.
Spencer nodded stiffly, the bitterness in his expression barely hidden. “Of course,” he replied, his voice tight. “It’s what anyone would have done.”
But you knew that wasn’t true. Spencer had done more than anyone else would have, more than your partner could even begin to understand. He had been your anchor in the storm, the person you had instinctively reached for when you were at your weakest. And now, with your partner standing there, all you could think about was how much you had wanted Spencer—needed Spencer—when everything was falling apart.
Your partner leaned down to kiss your forehead, their touch gentle, comforting. But it wasn’t the same. It didn’t ignite that spark inside you, didn’t calm the commotion in your heart the way Spencer’s presence had. Your mind kept replaying those moments in the ambulance, when Spencer had whispered those three words that had changed everything.
“I love you.”
The weight of those words settled heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t meant the world to you when he said it. But now, looking up at your partner, you felt trapped between two worlds—one where you were safe, where everything was familiar, and another where your heart was pulling you toward something deeper, something more complicated, something you weren’t sure you were ready to face.
Spencer stood there, watching the exchange with an expression that broke your heart. You could see the pain in his eyes, the bitterness that he was trying so hard to hide. He had given you everything he had in those terrifying moments, and now he was being pushed aside, as if all of that meant nothing.
But it did mean something. It meant everything.
“Spencer…” you began, your voice soft, uncertain.
He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, waiting for something—anything—that would tell him what you were feeling, what you were thinking. But you didn’t know what to say. You were too confused, too overwhelmed to put your emotions into words.
Your partner squeezed your hand gently, drawing your attention back to them. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” they whispered, their voice filled with relief.
You nodded, trying to smile, but it felt hollow, forced. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m okay.”
But as you looked back at Spencer, you knew that you weren’t okay. Not really. Because all you could think about was how much it had hurt to watch him leave, to see the pain in his eyes as he stepped back, knowing that he was walking away from something that had just barely begun.
Spencer took a step toward the door, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “I should go,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “You need time with your partner.”
The word "partner" seemed to catch in his throat, and you could see the way he flinched as he said it, as if acknowledging their presence hurt more than he could bear.
You wanted to call out to him, to tell him to stay, to tell him that what he had said in the ambulance had changed everything for you. But the words wouldn’t come. You were too afraid, too unsure of what any of it meant, or what it would mean if you acknowledged it out loud.
So you said nothing, letting him walk away, letting him leave the room with a heavy heart and a bitterness that you knew was only going to fester.
As the door closed behind Spencer, you felt a tear slip down your cheek, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. Your partner was still there, still holding your hand, still trying to comfort you, but it wasn’t enough. Because the person you needed most had just walked out the door, and you didn’t know if you had the courage to bring him back.
When you returned to work after your medical leave, there was a part of you that was eager to get back to a sense of normalcy. You thought that once you were surrounded by your colleagues, by Spencer, things would start to feel right again. But from the moment you stepped into the bullpen, you knew something was different.
Spencer was there, of course, as he always was—dutiful, courteous, offering you a small, polite smile as you walked in. He asked how you were feeling, made sure you had everything you needed, even went out of his way to help you catch up on what you had missed during your absence. But there was a distance to him, a careful politeness that felt foreign between the two of you. It was as if there was an invisible barrier between you, one that he had constructed with precision and intention.
He wasn’t your Spencer anymore. He was still the brilliant, kind-hearted man you knew, but the easy closeness, the spontaneous laughter, the silent conversations that you had once shared—those were gone. And as much as it pained you, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it. You were too afraid of what you might find out, too scared that if you asked him what was wrong, you would only confirm your worst fears.
So you stayed quiet. You forced yourself to smile when he spoke to you, even though his words were measured and distant. You nodded along when he offered advice or assistance, even though the warmth you used to feel in his presence was replaced by a hollow ache. But the more time passed, the more you began to realize that this wasn’t just about Spencer pulling away—it was about what that distance did to you.
It felt like half of you was missing, like you were a shell of yourself without him by your side. You’d never felt this way with your partner, not even when they were out of town or during the rare arguments that led to hours of silence. There was something about Spencer, something about the bond you had shared, that had become an integral part of who you were. And now that it was gone, you were lost.
It was that realization that led to the end of your relationship. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when your heart was somewhere else, when the person you thought you loved couldn’t fill the void that Spencer’s absence had left. Breaking up with your partner was one of the hardest things you’d ever done, not because you were still in love with them, but because they were such a genuinely kind-hearted person. They deserved better than to be with someone whose heart wasn’t fully in it.
When you sat down with them, your voice shaking as you tried to explain, they listened with a quiet understanding that made you feel even more guilty. “I’ve known for a while that something was off,” they said softly, their eyes sad but not angry. “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “You didn’t deserve this.”
They shook their head, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. “You don’t have to apologize. I’d rather you be honest with yourself—and with me—than stay in a relationship that doesn’t make you happy.”
Their kindness only made the pain of ending things more acute, but you knew it was the right thing to do. You couldn’t keep living a lie, couldn’t keep pretending that you were in love when your heart was somewhere else. And as much as it hurt, you felt a strange sense of relief when they walked away, knowing that you were finally free to face the truth.
But now that the relationship was over, you were left with an even bigger question: What do you do about Spencer? The very person who had unknowingly driven you to this decision was the one you felt you had already lost. The thought of telling him how you felt was terrifying, especially when you weren’t sure if there was anything left between you to salvage. Would he even care, or had he already moved on, content to keep you at arm’s length for the rest of your lives?
As you sat alone in your apartment that evening, the silence pressing in on you, you found yourself picking up your phone, your fingers hovering over Spencer’s contact. You wanted to call him, to tell him everything—to tell him that this whole mess had made you realize just how much you needed him, how much you missed him, how much you loved him.
But fear held you back. Fear that he wouldn’t feel the same way, fear that he would reject you, fear that you had already lost him forever.
In the end, you put the phone down, your heart heavy with the weight of your unspoken feelings. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to move forward. All you knew was that you couldn’t keep living like this, trapped in the limbo between what you had lost and what you could never have.
But as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, you made a silent vow to yourself: You couldn’t let things end like this. Spencer had meant too much to you for too long to let him slip away without a fight. And even though the thought of confronting him scared you more than anything, you knew that you had to try. You had to tell him how you felt, even if it meant risking everything.
Because losing Spencer without ever telling him the truth—that was something you couldn’t bear.
Spencer sat in his reading nook, surrounded by books that had once brought him comfort but now served as a distraction from the thoughts he couldn’t escape. The words blurred together as he tore through page after page, trying to keep his mind occupied, to drown out the memories of you, the sound of your voice, the way you used to laugh at his terrible jokes. It wasn’t easy, keeping you at arm’s length, but it was the only way he knew how to protect himself. He couldn’t endure watching you be with someone else, not when every part of him yearned to be the one you turned to, the one you loved.
The soft knock on the door startled him, pulling him out of the world he had tried so hard to lose himself in. His heart raced as he set the book down, a sense of unease settling over him as he stood up. He wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all you.
When he opened the door, the upper chain still in place, his breath caught in his throat. “Y/N?” he asked, his voice full of surprise.
You stood there, looking up at him with an expression that was both determined and vulnerable. It was clear you had made a decision, one that had led you to his doorstep on a Friday evening, one that had left you standing there, waiting for him to let you in.
“Spencer,” you began, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your chest. “I think we need to talk. Can I come in?”
He hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with the implications of what this conversation might bring. But the sight of you, the sound of your voice, was too much for him to resist. He needed to hear what you had to say, even if it meant reopening wounds he had tried so hard to close.
With a sigh, Spencer undid the chain and opened the door fully, stepping aside to let you in. “Of course,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with the familiarity of your presence.
You stepped inside, taking a deep breath as you crossed the threshold. The air in the apartment was thick with unspoken words, with the tension that had been building between you for weeks. You could feel it, the weight of everything you hadn’t said, everything you were about to say.
Spencer watched as you took a moment to compose yourself, his heart aching at the sight of you in his space, a place you had once felt so at home in but that now felt foreign, distant. He wanted to reach out, to close the gap between you, but he held back, reminding himself of the boundaries he had set.
“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” you said, turning to face him, your eyes searching his for any sign of what he was feeling. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. I have a lot to say, and I kept repeating it in my head. I was driving myself insane,” you laughed a bit at your own expense.
Spencer nodded, his throat tight as he gestured for you to sit on the couch. He took a seat across from you, his hands clasped together in his lap as he waited for you to speak, his heart pounding in his chest.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, the ones that would convey everything you had been feeling, everything you had realized over the past few weeks. “Spencer, I know things have been different between us since I came back. And I know it’s because of me, because of what happened.”
He opened his mouth to protest, to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, that he had been the one to pull away, but you held up a hand, stopping him.
“Please, just let me finish,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about what we had, and what we lost. And I realized that… I realized that I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not. I miss you, Spencer. I miss my best friend.”
His heart twisted at your words, the pain of losing you sharper than he had expected. “I miss you too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… it’s complicated.”
“I know it is,” you said, leaning forward, your eyes locking onto his with a determination that took him by surprise. “But that’s why I’m here. I need you to hear me out.”
Spencer nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he braced himself for whatever was coming next.
You took another deep breath, your heart racing as you finally found the courage to say the words that had been weighing on you for so long. “I ended things with my partner.”
His eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. “You did?”
You nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief at finally saying it out loud. “Yes. I did. Because I realized that I couldn’t keep lying to myself, or to them. I realized that the reason I was so unhappy, the reason I felt like something was missing, was because… because I was in love with someone else.”
Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he tried to process what you were saying. “Y/N…”
“I’m in love with you, Spencer,” you said, your voice steady now, the weight of the truth lifting from your shoulders. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time I think, and it took almost losing you to realize that. I don’t know how you feel, and I’m terrified that I’ve already lost you, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. You deserve to know the truth.”
The room fell into a heavy silence as your words hung in the air, the enormity of what you had just confessed settling between you. Spencer’s mind raced, a thousand thoughts colliding all at once, but the one thing that stood out above everything else was the overwhelming relief, the joy, that came with hearing you say those words.
You loved him. You loved him.
“Spencer, please say something,” you whispered, your voice trembling now as the fear of rejection crept in.
He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—relief, love, fear. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “that I didn’t think it was possible for you to feel the same way. I’ve been trying so hard to protect myself, to keep my distance, because I didn’t want to get hurt. But all it did was hurt me more, because all I wanted was to be close to you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as his words sank in, as the truth of what he had been feeling all this time became clear. “Spencer…”
He stood up, crossing the room in a few quick strides, and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as if he was afraid you might disappear. “I’m so sorry for pulling away,” he whispered into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I need you in my life, Y/N. I need you more than anything.”
You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as the tears finally spilled over. “I need you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with relief, with love, with the overwhelming emotion of finally being in his arms again.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, holding onto each other as the weight of everything you had been through, everything you had felt, finally began to lift. 
“Please don’t ever pull away again,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at him.
He shook his head, his thumb gently brushing away your tears. “I won’t. I promise. I’m done hiding.”
With that, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was long overdue, a kiss that spoke of all the love, all the longing, all the unspoken words that had been building between you for so long. It was a kiss that sealed the promise of a future together, a future where you didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to hold back, a future where you could finally be with the person you loved.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Spencer rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped around you. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. And I’m never letting you go again.”
“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered, the words feeling right, feeling true.
“I love you too,” he replied, his voice full of conviction, full of the certainty that this—being with you—was where he was always meant to be.
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taylor-titmouse · 2 months ago
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having finished watching that real doll documentary i've come to the conclusion i did not make the human characters in objects of affection nearly pathetic and weird enough and lemme tell you. they are already pretty pathetic and weird.
it was fascinating watching this because it's like. on the one hand, my instinct is that it's harmless. as a rule i don't kinkshame, especially with things that are just one guy in a house and don't involve other people. a guy likes to play dress up with his big dolls and take pictures of them, and he has sex with them sometimes too. that's not actively harmful.
but on the other hand. many of them were not quiet about how they think of real women. they do not like real women, because real women did not go out of their way to like them. and those attitudes are not harmless. "women should find me interesting because i hang glide, but all women seem to want are a guy with a pint in one hand and cigarettes in the other who watches soap operas" okay or maybe they don't find you interesting because you find women vapid and uninteresting yourself. "women don't like me because of the way i look" maybe women don't like you because you have multiple guns in your house that you keep loaded.
there was a guy who did have a girlfriend, who said she was very open minded and she was willing to accept the idea he had some of these. but then he tells her he has eight of them, and she leaves him a week after they wrapped filming. you could call her closed-minded, or you could call him insanely financially irresponsible for spending, bare minimum, $32,000 on masturbatory items. he outright says they are not for companionship, and that he likes them because he doesn't need to ask them for sex.
anyway. it's very strange and sobering to see what these guys would Really, Really be like in a world where androids are real and you can fuck them. how quickly a lot of men would turn to these solutions instead of working on themselves and their attitudes about women. they would get so so much worse, and there is a degree you have to ignore that to enjoy the fantasy of robot gf.
but you can't entirely ignore it.
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merowkittie · 3 months ago
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Hiii idk if you are still taking requests but Poolverine has taken over MY LIFE haha I would die for a Logan/Wade/Reader where they just worship their tiny lil mutant gf who could 100% kick their asses if she wanted to
hi hii!! i’m always taking requests, as long as my pinned post says ‘requests are open’!
poolverine has taken over my entire being i fear.
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Lil Ass Kicker — DP & WV
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summary: due to ur size most of the time sometimes people under estimate how strong you truly are. besides your boyfriends; they like when you remind them <3
warnings: none besides canon typical violence =] !
notes: i didn't specify if reader had specific mutant abilities..maybe i'll come up with a specific one laterr for future fics / hopefully this meets ur expectations, enjoy!
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at this point, you didn't get offended when people looked at your stature and thought you were some weak tiny human, when in reality you were just as strong as Logan.. maybe even stronger?
you could kick a grown mans ass in seconds! your boyfriends have witnessed it AND have been on the receiving end before. and lets just say,
they LOVE it.
"ohh, come on peanut!" wade yells from your far left in a somewhat disappointed tone, "I'll admit you look hot but that's just disgusting."
you'll admit this wasn't the prettiest site, even though wade just called you sexy. you were sweaty, kind of covered in blood, and had just broken a mans arm and was using it to make him punch himself in his face. it was very amusing to you until wade burst your bubble.
with a roll of your eyes and the slightest quirk of your lips tugging up in the corners you tossed the man to the side and skipped over to logan who was almost covered in blood completely; his knuckles were basically dyed red from his claws coming in and out and with the blood of half of the people he stabbed..
you guys were an odd trio, but you worked!
"looks like yer having fun, huh?" logan looked down at you with a smirk.
he can also admit that you look beautiful right now sweaty and kicking ass left and right. he'd definitely show you how much he enjoyed witnessing this when you three got home.
you nodded in response to his question humming out an "mhm".
once wade caught up to you two, you guys began to wrap up your mission. it went by in a flash with constant grunts, bodies hitting the floors, gun shots, and to many bones breaking.
yea it was a bit over the top but hey! wade wanted to be a 'good' guy today so this is the schedule! what wasn't on the schedule was watching wade get impaled in the head by his own katana.
logan was too busy fighting to come over and give wade a hand so you had to take matters into your own hands.
silently, you snuck over to where he was and took the guy who impaled your boyfriend by surprise. your elbow reeled forward and hit him in the back the head, causing him to stumble. quickly, your leg swept his feet from under him causing him to trip over his own two feet. right before he fell, you took your gun from it's holster on your thigh and shot him in the head just as he hit the floor.
"oh god, i'm so painfully hard right now, babe." wade's voice chimed in from the floor. he still had the katana sticking through his head and you could tell he was feeling that loopy effect of it right now.
with a sigh, you helped him to his feet and yanked the katana out of his head. he shook his head side to side and groaned at the feeling of it being pulled out.
"thank you my incredibly strong, beautiful, and tiny girlfriend." he made kissy noises from underneath his masks, wanting you to kiss him over it. with a bit of a grimace you stood on your toes and pressed a quick kiss over his lips.
"wha' about me?" logan said from behind you, referencing to the kiss.
with an exaggerated groan and playful stomps of your feet you turned around him and gave him a kiss too.
"I hope you guys know this is very unprofessional!" you shouted as you walked away from the two with a huff.
they were definitely going to show you how in love they were with you when you got home.
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sayoneee · 10 months ago
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☆ HEAD OVER HEELS
“something happens and i'm head over heels” - tears for fears (smau)
contains: luke castellan x ares! reader. best friends to lovers? (again) secret relationship but everyone knows. alt universe everyones happy. woc friendly as always
kashaf’s note: free palestine! (for reference, connor is percabeth's age, while travis is yns age so um imagine)
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liked by annabethhh, lukecastellan, and 183 others
yn summer days drifting away!
tagged travistole, connorstole
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clarisse why would you give them guns
yn im not stupid theyre fake obviously connorstole im hurt wtf travistole yn do u not trust us yn um. ur funny. travistole 💔
lukecastellan i see you’re poaching my siblings again
yn im just more fun what can i say lukecastellan liar liar pants on fire yn acting like ur 12 years old annabethhh finally someone said it lukecastellan annie ur my sister ur supposed to take my side wtf annabethhh 🤷‍♀️
silenabeauregard so where’s the summer loving?
yn u caught the grease reference!
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liked by annabethhh, lukecastellan, and 207 others
yn best girlfriends
tagged clarisse, silenabeauregard
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lukecastellan pic creds??
yn pic creds to this whiny baby lukecastellan u cried over good will hunting i aint forget yn how did u Not cry. it was so sad lukecastellan i look over and u were crying not once not twice but 4 times. yn im never watching anything w u ever again lukecastellan u cant ever replace me im one of a kind yn 💀
silenabeauregard I LOVE YOU GORGEOUS GIRL
yn MWAH MWAH 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
clarisse YURRR
travistole soft launching me i like it 😍
connorstole ik u lying rn yn 😭 silenabeauregard WHAT clarisse oh that's not... annabethhh yn ?????
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liked by yn, clarisse, and 205 others
travistole best duos
tagged yn, connorstole, cbeckendorf
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connorstole why did yn get the priority tag
travistole bc we're the better duo yn so true (clarisse solos u) travistole oh im well aware clarisse 😁
yn people r gonna think im ur gf
annabethhh u arent??? yn i burst into tears how could u. travistole hey now. i'm not that bad. yn im going to kms silenabeauregard annabeth 💀 clarisse 💀 connorstole 💀 percyjackson 💀 cbeckendorf 💀 chrisrodriguez 💀 annabethhh what do you all know that i don't???
cbeckendorf love you too man
travistole 💋 clarisse silena yo mans acting up again
view percyjackson's story.
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view clarisse's story.
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view chrisrodriguez's story.
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view silenabeauregard's story.
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lukecastellan 🚷
tagged yn, percyjackson, chrisrodriguez
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yn im w silena tho
lukecastellan shes cheating on u w charlie yn ig ur my last option silenabeauregard nooo yn come back bbg
chrisrodriguez bro stood up
percyjackson finally
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liked by lukecastellan, travistole, and 213 others
yn last man on earth
tagged lukecastellan
lukecastellan thanks
yn i like donating to the poor! lukecastellan come donate in my cabin connorstole we sleep there nasty mf
annabethhh YOU'RE DATING LUKE?
g_man cmon now... percyjackson wise girl... yn sister-in-laws?
clarisse wow really.
travistole wouldve never guessed. chrisrodriguez had us fooled. connorstole impossible. cbeckendorf really confounded us silenabeauregard almost like they didn't act like they were about to kiss all the time yn kys.
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© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, translate, plagiarize or claim any of my works as your own.
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7s3ven · 4 days ago
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MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER
( head cannons / might turn into a series )
Feel free to to request more scenarios with this au LOL
Notes: poly, reader is described as on the shorter side, age gap, daddy issues (reader has a bad father), inappropriate jokes/themes mentioned
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YSL, red bottom shoes, sugary cocktails, leopard print, faux fur, y2k, mcbling, lana del rey, cigarettes, mob boss wife…
- When people join the mafia, they expect tough muscled men, maybe a few scarred women carelessly waving around guns. What they don’t expect is you
- You’re an interesting sight, perched on Price’s lap like a little trophy, freshly manicured nails tapping away at your phone screen as you play a game
- You don’t care about whatever meeting you’re in, you aren’t even listening to Price’s rather gory plans. You’re too busy deciding what to have for lunch
- Nobody can look away from your pretty pout as you discover your favourite drink is temporarily out of stock
- Price was the one who found you first. Your father was indebted to the mafia and what better way to force him to pay than taking his precious daughter? Price found it strange how you were so willing to leave your father but it made sense when you told him the truth
- Your father wasn’t a good man. He had blood on his hands and he never cared much about you or your mother. You were thankful to find a way out, even if it meant going with a strange (but equally handsome) man
- You belonged to Price first but his property was Simon, Kyle, and Jonny’s as well
- “Jonny, is this skirt too short?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.
Jonny glanced up from his phone, shrugging. “Nah. It’s all good, bonnie. I can fight. ‘Sides, shorter skirts makes it easier to bend ya over.”
- Simon loves sharing his cigarettes with you, especially when you kiss him and transfer the smoke into his mouth. The best part is seeing your lipstick stain the end of his cigarette
- Price buys you lots of clothes and accessories. You’re never not draped in the most expensive jewellery he can find. Gaz is the one buying you heels. For some reason, he has a knack for choosing the best shoes
- Seeing you waltz around in your short skirts, lace tops, and clicking high heels is enough of a reward for the four men
- The rookies love the sight of you but you’re forbidden fruit. You belonged to their bosses who did not like to share
- When there’s talk of a rat among the mafia, your four lovers do not take it kindly. They need someone to infiltrate whatever plot is brewing up. Luckily, they have you. Nobody in their right mind would pass a chance on being able to get a taste of your strawberry-flavored lipgloss
- “Oh my gosh, it’s giving office siren.” You say, excitedly tugging on the tight, short-sleeved blouse that Ghost is shaking his head at.
“It’s too short.” He mutters, “Ain’t there a ‘nother size?”
“It was the only one. Sorry, baby.” You sheepishly smiled at your lover’s displeasure. “Anyway, how do I look?”
Clad in that damn white blouse, a short pencil skirt, and thinly rimmed glasses, you were a vision.
“You look like you’re ’bout to get some action when ya get back.” Kyle says, nodding over at Soap who’s staring at you shamelessly.
“How ‘bout this, lovie?” Price steps forward, “If you do a good job, we’ll give you a little reward. Sound good, yeah?”
( please note that for the cod tag list, you will be tagged in all the cod fics i post, not just this one lol )
COD TAG LIST (COMMENT TO BE ADDED/REMOVED):
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l0vely-sturniolo · 1 month ago
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TINTED WINDOWS
matt sturniolo x reader
tbh i didn’t know what to title this😭 but based off of matt’s story in todays car video and what it would be like to be his gf in the car with him when it all goes down :,).
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me and matt were at the store, getting things that he needed for the house, and things that the triplets needed for future videos. it was just me and matt, chris was at home working on some stuff for his brand, and nick was home editing this weeks friday video. we finished shopping and checked out, making our way back to the car.
as we walked back to the car, the security guard from inside the store spoke up, “tints a little dark, buddy.” he said. did he watch us the entire time to know exactly what car we were going to? matt looked over his shoulder, “yeah, it’s a little dark,” matt responded, and we kept walking. we put the bags in the car, before getting in.
matt started the car, and there was a knock on my window. i looked over, and saw the same security guard. “what the fuck?” i said, and matt looked over, and rolled his window down. “what’s up? what’s going on?” matt asked him. “you don’t have an answer for me on why that tints so dark?” he asked. i looked over at matt, confused as to why this grocery store security guard was so worried about matt’s window tint.
“no, not really,” matt responded. “so are you a cc?” the guy asked. “what even is that?” i asked. “i have no idea what that is,” matt said. “are you a cc?” he asked again. “no i don’t think so, i don’t know what that is,” matt responded. “concealed carry,” the guy responded. “no sir, i don’t have a gun in here,” matt responded.
“do you have any outstanding warrants?” the guy asked. “are you kidding me? all of this over some tinted windows?” i asked. “if i have any warrants, they’re not outstanding,” matt replied. i looked over at matt and he was shaking, and i reached over and grabbed his hand.
“we’ll see about that,” the guy said. “do we have a problem? is there something i need to be concerned about?” matt asked him. “we’ll just see about that,” the guy said, walking away. “oh my god, i’m gonna get put in handcuffs,” matt said, and he was still shaking. “baby, no..” i turned to looked at him. “he’s not even a cop, he’s a security guard from the store, didn’t you see his shirt? he shouldn’t even of been asking you about your windows,” i told him, rubbing his hand.
matt rolled his window up, taking a few deep breaths, before he started driving. “it’s okay baby, you’re okay, everything’s okay,” i told him, giving his hand a squeeze. matt started driving out of the parking lot, and out of the rear view mirror, i saw the security guard following us. “are you fucking kidding me?” i said, and matt looked and saw the car. “oh my god,” matt said.
“hey, hey.. it’s okay, just keep driving, he can’t do anything,” i said. “i don’t know what’s going on,” matt said. “me either baby, but it’s gonna be okay,” i told him. “he has no authority over you baby, he’s not a cop, i promise you’re okay, you’re not in trouble, nothings gonna happen,” i said still rubbing his hand.
matt turned right, and he followed us still. matt took another right, and he was still following us, and then he took one last right, and the guy went straight. “oh my god,” matt let out a sigh as he saw the guy go straight. “i almost had a heart attack,” matt said pulling over for a second, still shaking.
i reached over, pulling him into a quick hug, “i know baby, but you handled that well, and i’m proud of you,” i told him. “let’s go home incase he decides to be an asshole and come back,” i said, pulling away and leaning back into my seat. matt gave me a quick kiss, before pulling back off into the road, and we drove back home, this time with no interruptions, or security guards.
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tags:
@stayingstromboli
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santanasaintmendes · 3 months ago
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what it’s like to date them ~ f2 + sebastian montoya edition
masterlist
drivers included: ollie bearman, kimi antonelli, dino beganovic, sebastian montoya and arthur leclerc
type: fluff & a tiny bit of angst
warnings: mentioning of jumping off a cliff (ollie) , small sexual innuendo (sebastian) , mention of making out (ollie), if any of those make you uncomfortable please keep scrolling!
photos are found on pinterest & all credits go to their rightful owners!
a/n: it’s my first time trying something like this so feedback is appreciated! i love sebastian montoya so i just HAD to include him. likes and reblogs are always appreciated, enjoy xx
Ollie Bearman
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being ollie bear man’s girlfriend is no easy task
he’s constantly travelling around the world and sometimes being in a relationship is unrealistic for an f2 driver like him
but to be honest ollie would rather jump off a cliff than not have you by his side
the two of you are the exact embodiment of sleepy gf x cuddly boyfriend
whenever ollie gets the chance he flies you out to watch him race
late night walks together are a common thing for you both
LEGO DATES OF COURSE (reference to cosmic girl records)
cute good morning voice messages (HIS SLEEPY VOICE IS TO DIE FOR)
he’ll randomly send you photos of what he’s doing whether that’s photos of his meals or him at the gym he loves to keep you updated
in the EXTREMELY rare occasion you guys fight he’ll never EVER let you guys go to sleep without making up (and out 😌)
he loves gifting you flowers and he’ll keep one so he knows when to buy you another bouquet
he’s a goner when you play with his hair while cuddling
y’all hold hands under the table ALL THE TIME
he’s like your own personal photographer, constantly taking photos of you for your instagram or his
he 100% smiles when he reads your texts if you’re far away back home
sometimes it’s so bad that kimi and dino will tease him about it all day long
sings to you. badly, but you’re too nice to tell him he’s got a bad voice
you guys love watching movies together, whether it’s old movies like top gun or the latest ones like deadpool and wolverine
sometimes yall just sleep on the couch together
of course, ollie being the true romantic he is, loves taking you out to fancy restaurants, dancing in the rain, gives you his hoodies, the list could go on forever
facetiming and messaging 24/7
you guys could honestly talk forever, the conversation always flows so easily between you guys
y’all know that one scene in tangled where rapunzel and eugene are in the boat on the lake with the lanterns and eugene’s admiring rapunzel? LITERALLY YOU GUYS
i’d say, Ollie’s love language is 100% physical touch and quality time
homeboy CANNOT keep his hands of you, so you’ve either always got your fingers intertwined or his hands are around your waist or on your back
honestly? you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend and ollie for a better girlfriend 💖
Kimi Antonelli
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they say italians are one of the most romantic people on earth and kimi never fails to prove that to you
kimi has you laughing all the damn time with his habit of cracking jokes all day, sometimes the two of you will be sitting in silence, make eye contact and burst out laughing
he loves loves loves calling you cute names in italian, amore, bella, tesoro
he loves teaching you small phrases in italian
100% you guys are idiots to lovers, you both are lost in your own little world with humour only the two of you guys understand
kimi ALWAYS makes time for you, even when he’s tired, hes always up to call or cuddle no matter the hour
you’re a sucker for his italian accent 🇮🇹
you love playing “Bella Ciao” on full blast to wake him up from a nap
AND TRUST, at first he’s always grumpy
but he can never stay mad at you for long it’s always ends up with laughs and tickles
kimi texts you the funniest most random things
once you woke up to a text from kimi that read: do you think penguins get angry
safe to say you had to explain for the next couple of minutes to kimi that it was impossible to know because he kept hitting you with the “but why” card
he loves sending you memes that are definitely not funny just to see what your reaction is
he loves to tease you ALL the time
you guys love to take the silliest photos together
exactly like blake lively and ryan reynolds, the two of you have a good social media presence which often includes making fun of each other and joking around. it makes the fans go crazy and love you two even more
yall have shared playlists fr and kimi just loves annoying you by adding the most weirdest songs like the barney theme song or the bill nye the science guy song
he gifted you a CD player once and he loves giving you CD’s he makes with songs he thinks you’ll like
he once told you he’d step on a LEGO for you
you guys love to attend concerts when you have a chance
dating kimi can sometimes be a walk in the park and other times not the easiest
comforting kimi after a bad race is always hardest because he’s such a dedicated and passionate driver
but there’s nothing that you can’t fix, if that’s just holding him while he’s upset or just sitting with him while he speaks, you’re there for him every time
and he loves you for that, you’re both teenagers but he’s 101% sure that one day he wants to marry you, and you? you’ve known it since the moment you met him
Dino Beganovic
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dino may be the funniest guy you’ve ever met
he loves seeing you smile and each time he makes you laugh or smile it’s like an achievement
dino’s also an athletic guy, always in the gym or going on hikes in whatever country he’s in at the time
and he drags you along every time
sometimes it’s a pain but it’s worth it when he has the biggest smile ever when you guys reach the top of the mountain or exit the gym
dino’s an excellent cook despite what his friends may claim
he cooks for you any chance he gets
when you first found out Dino was swedish you nicknamed him IKEA boy just to annoy him
leaving you at home is the hardest thing he has to do and sometimes coming back is even harder, but you always make sure to stay up for him so when he walks through the front door you’re there to welcome him home
you find the fact that his name is ‘dino’ hilarious so you’ll randomly send him “🦖”only for him to reply with “🖕”
if there was one phrase to describe the two of you, it would be enemies to lovers
the first time you ever met dino was when your mutual friend arthur introduced you to him, and instantly you didn’t like him
you honestly never figured out why, maybe it was because you were jealous of how confident and smart he was?
yes, that’s probably it
and when you guys first met, the feeling was mutual, dino didn’t exactly like you either
but because of arthur who was whole heartedly convinced that he could get his two best friends together, you eventually began to feel things for dino and guess what?
he felt the same
it didn’t take long for you guys to get together
and arthur made a lot of cash in the process considering the whole grid had made a bet with him
you hold it against him till this day
but nevertheless it was the best choice you’d ever made, becoming dino’s girlfriend
he’s a gentlemen through and through
you often fly out to surprise Dino at his races and its always worth it to see his ginormous grin when he sees you
you guys definitely have your rough patches in your relationship but you both work through it together every time
you guys love going on cute coffee dates, especially to the cafe’s in Sweden, the two of you have a mission to find the best cafe there
he loves taking you to museums when you both visit his home
he loves telling you stories of his childhood and hometown since the two of you both grew up in different places
before dino you’d never believed you could ever fall for someone like him, and he proved you wrong yet again
Sebastian Montoya
he’s not f2 but i just HAD to include him, he’s my cutie patootie fr
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if there was on word to describe sebastian it would be oblivious
you had a good fat crush on him for a solid 3 years before the two of you got together
he just could never get a hint
you tried your best to subtly show that you liked him but he’d brush it off as you being overly kind or something like that
both of your families were super close so you basically grew up together
you were the same age as him so you were the closest out of everyone in the family
it wasn’t until your 15th birthday when Sebastian took you by surprise and confessed he had feelings for you
how could he not? you were stunning and basically his best friend. childhood friends to lovers, are you joking?
you always accompanied him to any karting competition or tournaments, you were and still are his biggest fan
sebastian is like a dream come true
he’s hilarious and sweet and caring and you could go on and on about how
he’s such a charmer, especially with his words
he loves calling you cute names in spanish such as cariño, mi amor, bebe, angelita, hermosa and so many more
dating sebastian is like you always though it would be like
he’s the loyalest guy you know
he loves going to the gym and he’ll send you photos whenever he’s there
you both have a habit of calling each other before you go to sleep, talking about how your day went or what you had for dinner that day
you’d think with both his parents being able to cook such great colombian food he’d be a great cook but you’d be wrong
sebastian nearly once set your kitchen on fire when he tried to fry an egg which goes to show just how bad of a cook he is
so you take the reins when it comes to cooking your meals when you eat together
sebastian’s probably the funniest guy you know, humour comes to him so naturally you’re almost jealous
yeah, you guys fight more than you’d like to admit, but he’s always the first one to apologise and pull you into a hug, peppering you with kisses
he’s like a giant teddy bear if they were absolutely ripped and had the biggest biceps you’d ever seen
sebastian often has to go away and he wishes he could take you along every time so when you get a chance you always accompany him
flights to wherever he’s racing that weekend is always fun
once you tried to convince him to do a face mask with you on the flight but he wouldn’t budge
sebastian loves touching you, not always in a sexual way but even sometimes just soft touches or holding hands is enough for him
kisses, kisses and more kisses
he absolutely loves it when you play with his hair
if you accompany him to the gym he’s definitely showing you off
whenever the colombian football team is versing another team you always go for the other team just to annoy sebastian
you guys often post each other on your instagram stories, usually including a joking insult
if you’d told your 13 year old self that you were dating sebastian she would not believe you at all, and well maybe dreams do come true
Arthur Leclerc
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you never ever thought you’d end up dating charles leclerc’s little brother
the first time you met arthur was in a supermarket at 9pm, you were rushing around, late to a party when you crashed head on with a stranger
that stranger just so happened to be arthur leclerc, you recognised him immediately as he bent down to pick up all his groceries that had fallen on the ground
you realised you were standing there gaping, you immediately apologised and helped him pick up his shopping
arthur was taken by surprise when he looked up to see such a . . . mess. to say the least
your mascara was poorly applied and your outfit was NOT it at all
it nearly made him laugh at the absurdity of it all, and yet as he continued to watch as you apologised he was stunned by your eyes
they were well, gorgeous.
he asked for your number much to your surprise and well the rest was history
arthur is by far the most sweetest and handsomest guy you’ve ever met
he helps pick out your outfits for the day without complaint, always helping you put on your heels when you guys go out for dinner
arthur loves to be by your side 24/7
whether it’s to make sure other guys don’t get the wrong idea or just because he loves being in your company he’s always with you
but of course because he’s a formula 2 driver his job requires him to travel a lot
which often means you’re left alone, it sometimes poses to be difficult for the two of you, especially you and it sometimes ends with you guys fighting
but there’s nothing that the two of you both can’t overcome together
he looks at you like you hung up the stars 🤩
arthur loves making you laugh, it’s like he could high on just your laughter
so any chance he gets to make you laugh, he takes it and honestly it only makes you love him more
matching outfits? definitely.
cute french nicknames, mon amour is a favourite for sure
arthur loves to gift you things, whether it’s perfumes, clothes, handbags, if you linger too long on something while you’re shopping, best to know that it’ll appear in your apartment in the next week
he absolutely loves to take you on the craziest dates ever, bungee jumping, sky diving, swimming with sharks, anything that’s completely crazy? definitely.
maybe it was fate or something like that, but arthur’s grateful that you crashed into him that night in the supermarket, looking like a mess, you couldn’t have looked prettier in his eyes.
a/n: AHHH! So that’s brings us to the end, thank you for reading if you got to the end!
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rissouu · 10 months ago
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Can you do a story with plugony about him and his gf doing a drop off together because she begged to be there with him and one of his female clients start to flirt with her right in front of him and what his reaction would be ?
I. GOT. YOU. LET. ME. COOK.
you sat quietly in the passenger seat as ony went back and forth with some girl through the window. earlier, you had begged him to let you ride around with him to make drops and surprisingly he let you.
usually the overprotective man would say ‘no, i don’t want you around all `dat’ but he wanted to be in your presence right now, so fuck it.
you casually scrolled through your phone— not paying the two any mind. ony was a popular dealer so of course he’d have to deal with female clients as well, you didn’t mind it. but, they did get out of hand at times.
“c’mon bro you knew an eighth was gon’ be thirty, i been told you dat’.” ony was fed up with the annoying girl, she kept asking for him to lower the price. which he wasn’t going to since he let her know how much it was before hand, and she was okay with it.
now she was fucking with his time and his money, shit he never took lightly.
“onyyy don’t be like that.. maybe i can repay you in other ways?” she took one glance at you and cockily smiled, she knew what she was doing. her hands slipped through the car window in an attempt to touch his chest.. but before she could even do so the man slapped her hand away.
“oh this bitch got me-“ you leaned up from your seat—already preparing to whip some ass. evidently you didn’t want to cause ony to lose any clients but, oh fucking well. you weren’t going to let her disrespect you without retaliating, period.
as soon as you reached for the door ony locked it, placing his hand on your thigh in an attempt to cool you down.
“no ony cause she need her ass beat, ion know why she playing wit’ me!” one stern look and a rough squeeze to your thigh was all it took for you to hush. you were still heated of course but it wasn’t worth making your man upset, he didn’t like you fighting at all. you were too pretty for it, honestly.
“i got it mama, let daddy handle it. ight?” you reluctantly nodded before sitting back in your comfortable position. because if your man said he’d handle it, then he would.
ony chuckled lowly while grabbing his gun from the glove compartment, sitting it on the dashboard so that the girl would see it.
“you see my girl sitting right here dawg.. fuck is you playin’ for?” the girl watched him with nothing but pure fear in her eyes as he slowly picked up the gun— aiming it to her head.
“you played wit’ my time.. my money.. and my girl,” ony grinned before nodding his head towards you which took her attention off of him and onto you..
“ain’t she pretty?” instead of answering verbally the girl decided on a simple nod, and you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or just scared for her life.
“fuck wit’ her again and you dead, now gimmie my thirty broke ass girl”
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pixeltwix · 3 months ago
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{The Disconnect & The Spiral}
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(I realize this isn’t my usual content, but hear me out, the rekindled GF fixation is going hard rn)
- -As an avid fan of Gravity Falls and an even bigger fan of the tragic old man lore packed into the mystery trio, I honestly gotta say..
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I refuse to believe this is the full story towards WHY Fiddleford and his wife had a whole blasted argument over…him forgetting to get her a Christmas present?? Upon reading this section, I can frankly say I had a similar reaction to Ford. The immediate sense of, ‘really? That’s it? Your family reunion was torn up over that?’
I mean- your husbands been gone for lord knows how long, your young son also hasn’t seen him in ages, and let’s be honest- with how much trauma the ole hillbilly is stacking up on a day to day through his adventuring with Ford, how often is he actually able to call home or write a letter with a sound mind?
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It just doesn’t feel feasible that a man who started this journey so troubled and in yearning to return home to family would be so forgetful as to not scrimmage up not even a souvenir or postcard from Gravity Falls for his family. So what is it then? Perhaps he’s become so averse to everything in the small town he wouldn’t dare bring a trace of it home with him, or rather, he truly had forgotten some small one off promise he made. Perhaps he’s forgotten a lot by this point-
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Because of lack of dates on a majority of his entries it’s a little difficult to put together a timeline of when Fiddleford finished his memory wipe gun and when he started using it. By all means he racked up a lot of memories he wished to forget in the beginning being as quote ‘weak minded’ as he is. But then of course we all know he becomes addicted to quite literally erasing every little inconvenience until of course the end result. The freedom of a clear mind outweighing all consequences for him.
Instead however I choose to believe these were the first persisting side effects of his machine. We know enough about it now to get the fair suggestion that even one use of the memory wipe gun can be more damaging than can truly be discerned, so seeing as he quite possibly has used it at least twice by now- both events he used them for being extensive (the shifty incident and the gremloblin incident cited in journal 3) I believe it only fair to assume this quoted argument he got into with Emma-May was hardly over one measly little present. True, we have no frame of this woman much less the rest of the family (minus what we get of Tate once he’s grown), but I am TRULY giving her the benefit of the doubt in believing her husbands mind has begun to scatter in ways he didn’t even realize. So much to the point that a fight possibly fueled by ‘it’s not just about the Christmas present, it’s about ————“ would truly confuse him
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I say that in the kindest way, I love Fiddleford, truly he’s the most tragic character in my mind regarding this story, but the man’s self destruction and drift from his family had to have started somewhere. And just like any addiction that can tear a family apart, this one was definitely packing punches. I realize I don’t have much backing, and I’m really just rambling some nonsense, but Alex Hirsch just doesn’t feel like one to write a one off ‘oh by the way this silly reason is why Fidds is alone from his family for the holidays, something he clearly holds a deep fondness for’. Nah, that man is too cryptic for him to write something like that and for me to not overthink it <3
(But with all that said and done- dear god the snow globe cabin and the knitted six fingered gloves literally killed me- that hillbilly is such a damn sweetheart, it can almost make me ignore the doom that will befall him and the town <3!!)
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