#like no matter how much she loves she has this physical reminder that it’s never enough and that she will constantly be harmed

[emmriches]

really love rogue haella but i think she’s probably a cleric of lolth tbh

[yolli-es]

Could you possibly write fluff alphabet prompts for the lovely girl Jinx :3

Fluff Alphabet Jinx ❣️

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2 (if you haven't watched it yet), mention of violent acts, psychological problems.

My heart is broken, so I hope this helps heal yours.. Perhaps I misunderstood the request and/or points.

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

Touch, touch, touch.

Does this all the time and expects the same from you. Jinx can never help it, she won't even try. Every time you're lost in thought, she'll take your hand and play with your fingers. Gently, lightly, and casually. You won't even notice, but she can do it for hours.

Jinx is very attached to you and never leaves you for more than an hour unless absolutely necessary.

Just let her do it.

Best friend: What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

Spontaneous. She often said something strange, and after looking at your face, she laughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject. She came up with strange, sometimes too childish games to have fun and too dangerous to strengthen your relationship.

Like your first meeting. Don't be surprised if you bumped into her or she suddenly tried to steal something from you and then you became friends. This is Jinx.

You quickly got used to it.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Hug, hug, hug.

Jinx has received many hugs in her life, but never one that was so meaningful and necessary to her. Vi and Silco were important to her, but you have a deeper connection with her. Every hug reminds her that she is not just existing. It gives her strength and faith in her better side.

If she could, she would do it forever. It doesn't matter how, gently or harshly, with love or joy. The main thing is that it's you.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

Surprisingly, Jinx is good at cooking. But only because she is picky. Yes, Zaun is not a buffet, but she knows exactly what she wants and how she will get it. She will not let you eat something garbage.

And yet, she just doesn't see the point in cleaning. Haven't you seen her lair?

"If it's dusty, you don't need it; what's the problem, toots?"

Ending: If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

No way.

It would be the end of the world. Break up with you after everything she's been through? Forget it. She'll do anything, from murder to rebuilding her personality. Yes, Jinx will resist and say that she won't do it. But she will. She's too scared. You've done so much for her, and she lives and breathes with you.

If you leave her, she will not leave you alone. Jinx will follow you in the shadows. It is unlikely that you will ever know that she is there, unless Jinx herself wants you to know. She will definitely find a way to come back to you, and believe me, you simply will not have a choice.

In case of an unforeseen situation... she definitely won't survive without someone's support.

Fiance(e): How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

Never really thought about it. There's too much going on in her life to think about something as simple and mundane as a wedding.

But that doesn't mean she'll never think about it.

It will be like a sudden walk in Zaun when she suddenly sees a married couple and it dawns on her. Most likely, she will propose to you almost immediately after he thinks about it.

Say yes, and she will throw you the most lavish wedding. In her style, of course.

Say no, and she'll just wait before trying again. 

Gentle: How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

Jinx gives you all the tenderness that is left in her. Every time she tries to be more careful with you, especially when she tries to make it pleasant for you. Hugs, kisses, and games, in most cases, will take place in playful and caring touches.

But emotions are too much. Jinx can't control them, even though she tries. She has a hard time talking about her feelings, especially when they don't match yours. This only makes things worse and makes her feel misunderstand. So in her vulnerable moments, Jinx tries to move away from you, just to avoid scaring you and driving you both into a corner of fear and mistrust.

She's trying; give her a chance and time. You are a good influence on her.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Jinx hugs you often, and yes, it's the best way to say, "I'm here, and I love you." In most cases, it will do it too tightly; it is quite strong. 

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

It's complicated. Even when Jinx confessed to you, she couldn't say it without stumbling and biting her lips.

It didn't get any easier with time. It's easier for her to show with actions than to say. She'll make, listen, steal, sew, cook, and anything but say? Oh... And yet, Jinx knows better than anyone how sometimes it is important to hear confirmation that you are loved. 

And she will say it, definitely.

Jealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

It's so bad that she saw the enemy even in her sister. Just once, it was awkward, but still.

Jinx will definitely know if someone likes you. It must be her magic ability. Then she will be even closer, more aggressive, and talkative. She will lose her shyness even if you don't like it. Jinx might show you off her new gadgets with a hint of "Oh, I have no one to test this on." If the person doesn't understand... well, I think he did.

It's not you; no, she's absolutely certain of your loyalty. The problem is in this world and... in her. She's still Jinx, isn't she?

Kisses: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

She kisses wherever and whenever she wants. Why should she choose or be shy?

Most of the time, these are innocent and quick pecks on the cheek, lips, and neck. Sometimes, you'll get a barrage of quick kisses, so attack back!

The rest of the time, Jinx does not skimp on long and intense kisses. She will always make the first "trial" kiss as if inviting you to continue and giving you the opportunity to say no. She won't object the rest of the time either, but then you will definitely not get rid of her teasing and sad face for the rest of the day.

Everything she does to you, Jinx expects to get in return.

Little ones: How are they around children?

Doesn't notice them most of the time. It's understandable; most of the children here are doomed.

And yet, if the child becomes a little closer to her than a stranger and Jinx sees the child's sincere affection, it will mean that now this is your child. It does not matter whether he has parents or some problems with anything; now this is your child, and Jinx loves him.

In most cases, she will act playfully with the child, playing out the older sister or "kind" parent. But that doesn't mean she won't eliminate any possible threat to the child. Don't underestimate her.

Morning: How are mornings spent with them?

When she wakes up before you, she lies still while you sleep. Maybe she's just thinking about something, or maybe she might be staring right at you. Maybe she's staring at you while she's thinking about something? As soon as she realizes you're about to wake up, she'll wake you up looking like she just got up and is bored.

When you wake up first, it's all up to you. Watch her, and Jinx will definitely be embarrassed about it after waking up. Wake her up, and Jinx will make a displeased face, only to relax you and attack you with a pillow from behind. Fall asleep again, and Jinx will beat you to it.

It won't be boring.

Night: How are nights spent with them?

Depends on Jinx's condition.

If she was even a little restless, the night would be the same. Jinx would wake up and unwittingly wake you. She's sorry; she didn't mean to.

If everything is fine, she sleeps like a hibernating bear. It seems as if even a nuclear explosion could not wake her up.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

Talking about your feelings is a real problem for Jinx, let alone her past. Most likely, you already know a lot thanks to rumors in the city. Jinx will not comment on this in any way.

However, time goes by, and you have already been there more than once in the shittiest moments, opened your soul to her in the most difficult moments, and saved her in the most dangerous. The truth about her is the least she owes you.

Jinx starts slowly, from afar, and as if it's not about her at all. And then the story will get deeper and deeper, and you'll see not Jinx but Powder. After that, you'll be truly close.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

Very easy. A few careless words, and she's furious. Don't worry, Jinx won't hurt you. But she and the others may well suffer. She knows that you didn't wish her any harm, but she can't restrain herself.

Quizzes: How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

Jinx knows and remembers absolutely everything. For her, every little thing about you is important and valuable. She never knows where and why it might be useful to her, but she is sure that this is important knowledge. Secrets that she will not share.

Remember: What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

Every moment when she thinks, "I knew I was right about you."

One of those favorite moments was at the very beginning of your relationship. Some bastards were hunting her down and were damn close to catching her. When she was cornered, you showed up as their partner. You gloated and laughed, shook their hands, and even pointed a gun at Jinx. And all this in order to destroy these bastards. It was cruel, dirty, and instructive.

No more such gangs were formed.

She loves you so much.

Security: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

You won't find a more reliable partner. Jinx will save you at any cost; she is simply unstoppable. She has no fear and no limits when it comes to safety. Zaun does not forgive mistakes.

However, Jinx has never asked and will never ask you for protection. You have saved her many times, and yet she is still convinced that you are fragile and definitely cannot cope on your own.

When it comes to a real fight, Jinx will forget about all the nonsense.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

Jinx will pretend that all this is nonsense and that she doesn't care about such trivial things. And then she will invest herself in it as if it is the last thing she will do in her life.

Ugly: What would be some bad habits of theirs?

Blow up anything and anyone.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care.

Of course, she won’t let herself get to the point of becoming a lump of dirt, but she’s indifferent to anything that doesn’t concern hygiene.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

Yes, and this is actually tragic.

Jinx tends to get attached to someone and build a very strong bond with them. When you're not around, she's not complete; everything seems to fall out of her hands. Everything that was perfect before doesn't work, and things that Jinx was confident in before are called into question.

She just needs to know how you'll react to anything before making any decisions; Jinx feels empty.

Xtra: A random headcanon for them.

You will definitely get small matching tattoos on your wrists, neck, or stomach. Jinx will be in the most visible place of your bodies. 

She lets you paint her bombs and guns. It's personal to her.

Yuck: What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

Lies. In any form.

Jinx can't trust herself, so what's she supposed to do if she can't trust you? Even if it's a small thing, don't lie to her. It could become too big.

Zzz: What is a sleep habits of theirs?

Lie down on her, or Jinx will throw all her limbs at you. Don't even think about dodging or moving away; she will grab you tighter.

It helps her feel calmer.

Jinx loves you.

Thank you.

[asocialangel]

how MHA lovers like to kiss you

pt. 2 of how they like to kiss uuuu ( ˘ ³˘) 💕

2nd and last part of how i think the bnha lovers would kiss you~ gender neutral and fluffay

includes: monoma, shinsou, sero, denki, iida, hawks, dabi and toga.

monoma loves sending you air kisses. First of all because they are practical, he doesn't even need to move, he sees you across the room and gets to tell you he loves you. But also because they are so fun ! He loves to remind you he loves you in a light-hearted way. Usual gestures can quickly feel too formal, but air kisses keep it cheeky. Idk, to me, it’s just so fitting ! Obvi he will kiss you for real often tho. 

Sero: spider man kiss. Hello ? corny but accurate let's be real ! I feel like since he is a fan of spider man, he prolly knows about it already and really wanted to try it out. It was so fun ! So now you get to do it but only organically, if you happen to catch him in that position, after a joint rescue mission for exemple. It’s rather rare so it makes these kisses feel even more special. 

hawks go-to kisses are french kisses. Pretty committed isn't it ? He just can't get enough of you and of the sensation. He is a pretty good kisser you can admit, but you’ve put it together: if he kisses you so much, it means you are a great kisser too ! ha-ah ! Anyway, your boyfriend will always make the time to kiss you with tongue, no matter when or where, even if the cameras are watching. Most of the time you’re the one to let go too cause he could breathe you in all day, forgetting he has actual responsibilities ! 

iida kisses your whole body. If you put it metaphorically, it's to show you he loves you from a to z. He never thought about it that way though, his silly mind just loves to shower every inch of you with love. It’s kinda surprising and fun to guess where he will kiss you next. Your pinkie ? Your knee ? Your braided hair ?? It’s super cute and pure. 

Shinsou loves a chest kiss. He isn't big on PDA, but when he is physical with you behind closed doors, he's devoted to you. He loves to randomly kiss your chest at any given moment. Casual talk about what's for dinner ? He will lean in and kiss you through your hoodie and continue talking like nun happened. Cuddling together ? He will kiss you thousands of times on your chest, like a snuggling cat. Something about your chest feels warm and fuzzy. 

Denki loves classic lip kisses. Goodbye ? Steal a quick kiss from your soft lips. Good morning ? A long but superficial kiss of your warm lips. Something about it is almost innocent to him. Sometimes he'll put his tongue in, yes, he is a freak at heart after all, but for casual instances, he’d rather give you a teasy lip kiss while looking you in the eyes.

Dabi is an ear kisser. yes yes. He will nibble a bit sometimes, whisper to you something before or after kissing your ears, breath in and caress you with wind. He knows you are very sensitive there, and he loves feeling his cheek against yours. Also when he kisses you it’s cold, just wanted to add that >u<. 

Toga will almost exclusively hickey kiss you. She loooves the feeling of latching onto you, and leaving her mark. Kinda telling the whole word: yup, mine ! I did that ! don't get too close i'll be there ! Because her little fangs make her hickeys very recognisable too. She loves to leave her hickeys everywhere on you, but she has a preference for your neck. She can’t hold back that cuteness aggression when she sees your face !

[tbaluver]

Can you do the boys with a mentally unwell reader? Like she has depression, ocd, or anxiety that she takes medication for?

S/O Who Faces Mental Illness- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader tags: ( for all ) mentioning of depression/ depressive episodes, ocd rituals, anxiety/ social anxiety a/n: hi anonnie ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ sorry this took awhile, this was sitting in my drafts and i would keep coming back to it. i just wanted to make sure this topic is handled with care. i know that everyone has different types of depression, anxiety, and ocd so i wrote the ones that i'm familar with and gone through. i hope this was okay lmk ! ̤̮

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier has always been such an attentive lover to you and he’s grown increasingly worried as he observed your unhealthy habits. He notices how you spend more time in bed than usual, longer than he would stay in bed. How you seem disinterested in eating, even if it were foods you typically enjoyed. Noticing how these impacts have affected you, he has made the effort to educate himself better on what you’re going through to understand and support you better.

If you were taking any medications, he'll read the entire packet that came with it or look up as much information he can online. He'll try to remember all the side effects that comes with it and makes sure to check up on you whenever you take them.

He notices when your energy plummets so it’s his duty to take care of you. He tries to make everything easy for you. He’ll make sure to tuck both of you in bed, turning off the lights when you both get ready, making sure to have food delivered when you wake up. Xavier encourages you to take a walk outside with him, helping you get some fresh air and encouraging you to step out of bed. He’ll hold your hand the entire time.

Distractions were one of the ways he could get your mind off any anxious thoughts or from any of your OCD rituals. He'll have a list of your favorite things to do and see if it helps. He'll stay with you in bed all day if that's what you need and wouldn't let you isolate yourself. Will also build a fort to cuddle you up in and have you tucked in his arms.

Anytime you two were out and you started to feel drained, then he'll take you back home. You two can stay in and cuddle.

He never pushes you beyond your comfort levels. If there was any situation where you started to feel uncomfortable, then he'll lead the situation and you somewhere else that sets you more at ease.

Zayne:

Zayne is no stranger to the topics of mental illness. He’s gone through extensive studies and many clinical experiences with patients. But with you, it's different. Your struggles aren’t just a clinical case to him, they’re personal. He’s acutely attuned to subtle changes of your mood and actions. He notices the quiet shifts in your expressions, or the way your eyes dull and lose their sparkle. Even though it’s hard to read through his expressions, it truly does hurt him to see you suffer. Your internal pain that you battle inside hurts him more than words can convey.

If you were to go through a depressive episode and you feel like you can’t do everything you need, then Zayne has no problem doing the extra housework or helping you with your physical health. He would reassure you to not feel guilty even though he’s busy with his work or any paperwork's. You have done so much as a loving partner to him and he will always return the favor for you.

He’ll help you shower and dress you up. He'll make sure to brush your hair gently and that you brush your teeth. He’ll even make sure you eat enough and he’ll praise you for taking every bites.

He’s always there for you. Even if he was in the middle of work, he would remind you to never hesitate to reach out whenever you feel isolated or just needed to vent, anything. Spam him, leave voice messages- he’ll read every word and listen to each message and reply with care. No matter how busy he might be, he’ll find a way to call you as soon as he can. He wants to make sure you’re okay and to remind you that you’re never alone, even when he’s away. Your well-being matters so deeply to him that he’s committed to be there for you in every possible way.

He'll keep note of all the side effects you've experienced with your medications, so he's aware of the potential issues that might arise when you take them. Will send you texts reminding you to take your meds at the right time and to make sure you eat before you take them so you don’t get nauseous.

He’s a very attentive and caring partner, he pays close attention to the triggers of your OCD and observes the coping mechanisms you have. He notices your struggle with hand washing compulsions and understands how these rituals can take a toll on you. He’ll try to help you by pointing out that excessive hand washing can actually be harmful, as it washes away the beneficial ones that your body needs.

He'll be very reassuring when you feel the need to constantly check up on things. He won't judge you for it but instead he'll offer to check on it himself and reassure you that everything is okay.

It wouldn’t be new to him to avoid places that were crowded or super noisy. He would know where all the less crowded and quiet places are. At this point, he already had taken the time to understand your triggers and sources of anxiety. He just wanted to be well-informed so he can help you avoid these situations and provide the support and care you need.

If you were to experience an anxiety attack, he remains calm and patient and helps you try to breathe. Whenever you need to vent, he’s always there for you. He’ll let you curl up on his lap while you talk, gently stroking your hair. Although he’s quiet while you talk, you know he listens to every detail and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. After you finish sharing, he’ll offer advice or discuss the situation to help you work through it together.

Rafayel:

He knows that you were going through significant struggles because it often kept you doing certain things with him. There are times when the weight of your depression and anxiety feels so heavy that it drains your motivation, making your favorite hobbies or simply just doing anything seem out of reach. Sometimes the intensity of your OCD leads you to stay up, unable to rest because you repeatedly check things like the light switches, doors, windows, and everything else in the house.

OCD is a topic that Rafayel wouldn’t tease or be playful on with you. He notices the small things when you repeat patterns or prefer certain number sets. He’s very patient and understanding about this topic but anytime you feel as if your ocd ritual was messed up, he is quick to run to your side and reassure you that everything will be okay.

Rafayel has been in a dark place himself so he knows the signs when you’re struggling. Whether you’ve been through this over and over again, he’ll help you through this every single time. If you don't have the energy to take a shower or a bath, then he’ll simply carry you and wash you himself. He’ll join you and use your favorite bath bomb scents and make it a little fun by blowing bubbles at you. A smile would curl up on his lips when he sees you smiling again.

He wouldn’t force you to talk. He’ll do most of the talking and hopefully it takes your mind off anything you were anxious about. When you are ready to talk, he’ll praise you. It’s a big step forward in healing and he would be listening attentively to everything you say.

Rafayel would text you throughout the day and ask how you were feeling. He's always there at your beck and call. If you need anything, he already has it and he's on his way to you.

If you were out in public and you started to feel uneasy, he would lead you somewhere else. Rafayel would always be holding your hand for security and to make sure you were always right by his side. He doesn't mind wherever you both go, as long as he's with you. He makes sure that you two can go to places that aren't crowded or noisy but still enjoyable and fun for the both of you.

He’s very worried whenever you take medications. He knows that they can have some mean and nasty side effects and that’s the last thing he would want you to go through. He’ll always make sure to check up on you a couple hours later to see how you’re holding up.

Sylus:

It does not take him long to notice you were acting off. Nothing can get past this man and he doesn’t want you to feel like you have anything to hide from him. No matter what the issue is, he isn’t leaving your side and you’ll both work on the issue together. He doesn’t want you to go through anything alone.

When you feel empty and you simply want to sink into your bed and lay there motionless because everything in the world was just too much, Sylus will not hesitate to take action. He’ll make sure you're eating nutritious meals by calling his private chefs or he’ll make them himself. He’ll sit right beside you and watch you take enough bites or he’ll spoon feed it to you himself. Sylus would make sure to tell you that you were doing so well even if the bites were big or small. After you are done eating, he’ll make sure that you take all your meds and check up on you if any of the side effects arise.

He’ll be right by your side at any doctor's appointments. He’ll carry you to the bathroom himself or he’ll use his evol to help wash, dry, and dress you up. Sylus would encourage you as well to go on walks with him so your body is still moving and so you can get some fresh air. He does all of this because he loves you and he doesn’t want you to lose any of the progress you made. He knows your capabilities and he knows you will get through this. He’ll be right by your side the entire time.

When he notices that your OCD rituals are becoming overwhelming, he doesn't hesitate to step in to help. He finds engaging activities for the both of you to do so it steers your focus away from the obsessive thoughts. Understanding how OCD can distort your perceptions, he uses distractions as a way to gently pull you out of that obsessive cycle.

Sylus would let you know that he’s accessible. Whenever you need him, feel free to call him any time and he’ll drop anything and come by to help you.

Don't even bother brushing off any of your issues. Anything that bothers you, he's always there to listen and help you. He’s a great listener and he never judges you for any problems you had and the reason behind your behavior. His shoulder is for you to lean on, cry on, laugh on, and hold on, etc. He’s understanding and wants you to be happy again.

When he’s away, he will have food delivered to you. He’ll make sure you eat and that you take your meds right after by calling or texting to remind you. Or he’ll just send Mephisto to you. He’ll caw/squawk repeatedly until you finish your meals.

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ THIS IS A LIFE, PART ONE !

summary :: in every universe, spiderman will inevitably lose the one thing that matters most to him: y/n l/n. miguel o'hara, peter parker, and hobie brown have all suffered through this story. they soon discover another version of you is alive, bound to fall in love with miles morales and to die abruptly. with the prospect of a second chance and a newfound obsession, these four men will do anything to keep you at their side.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 7.5k

content warnings :: yandere!miguel, yandere!miles, yandere!noir, yandere!hobie, reader death, gore/violence, murder, electrocution, fire, guns, alcohol, cigarettes, suicidal tendencies, kidnapping, stalking, physical restraint, child abuse/neglect, allusions to a child's death, physically abusive ex-boyfriend, infidelity, & torture.

──── October 17th, 2099 — Miguel O'Hara remembers the day the same way he will never forget you. August 24th, 1934 — Peter Parker remembers the day the same way he will never forget you. July 3rd, 2020 — Hobie Brown remembers the day the same way he will never forget you.

Y/N L/N. Miguel O'Hara, Peter Parker, and Hobie Brown will never forget them the same way they will never forget how it felt to lose them.

The inevitable fate of your demise is a cannon event for all spider-people. To love this person with every shred of their being only to live the rest of their lives without them; to love this person with all the might their body can contain only to let go of their hand in the end. It crushes their soul. Countless people are forced to live with the consequences of being bitten by a spider, not one had suspected it would be so detrimental.

Not when it is your life that has been taken.

Written in the stars is this destiny. How they will never love another again, but vow to be a hero and refrain a similar fate from falling onto anyone else. Many have been able to crawl out of the bottomless pit that is grief, but others have succumbed to the unforgiving anguish and let their life escape them. Just the way yours had. After all, what is life if you are not present? What is the point of living if there is no one there to patch up their scars and praise them for their heroic acts? There is no point, which leaves these three particular spider-people here. Their body is stuck in the past, reliving each moment with you up until they lost you forever.

October 17th, 2099. It was all his fault. Maybe if he hadn't let his violent tendencies toward anyone who isn't you slip through the seams, maybe if he had been more persistent in his reminders of how loved you are. Maybe if he had tried harder, Miguel O'Hara would still have you here at his side.

Miguel's attempts to make this sudden transition in your life as easy as possible turned out to be disastrous. He is not stupid; he knows this upbringing into this new lifestyle you claim to be "kidnapping" was blunt. He knew this, yet still, his plans on easing you through this change had collapsed right before him. Time had passed, and he naively assumed your fear had depleted, far too caught up in the sheer delight that came from holding you in his arms. Days and nights spent trailing his fingers down the expanse of your skin and kissing away the bruises his fangs had left upon your lips. This is a dream, Miguel always catches himself thinking.

And his sweet daughter, Gabriella. How she adored you so much. Even more so than her own father, he often joked. Coming home to find you both brushing the hair of her numerous dolls, baking treats that were rich with far too much sugar, or fast asleep on the couch while some whiny kids show plays on the television. His heart hammers like a fluttering hummingbird at the sight of you so soft and calm with his daughter. However, your guard then builds itself back up, brick-by-brick, faster than a gust of wind when he makes his presence known. In a way, Miguel found himself... jealous of Gabriella. That gentle and loving nature of yours, why couldn't he have it for himself? Why couldn't you give him some of that attention, even just a blink? What could that crybaby brat possibly have done to deserve such an amazing thing!?

No matter what kind of thoughts suffocate his mind, Miguel always tried to keep himself composed in front of you. With his tall, muscular physique, it makes sense why you are so intimidated by his appearance. If he were to ever let this satiating envy bleed through the bandaids, however, you'd certainly never open your heart to him. The prospect alone makes his chest tighten with dread.

And he had been so negligent towards his daughter, it only makes sense why she would turn to you. With how breathtaking, elegant, brilliant, electrifying you are, Miguel can understand why she loves you so much. Still, this does not refrain him from tightening his jaw whenever his daughter does something as trivial as hug you. That should be me with Y/N. Let me hold them, let me hold them, let me hold them like that.

It's his fault he had so frivolously expressed his envy through sharp gazes, a towering frame, and muffled shouts through the thin walls. It's his fault he never assured you these ugly emotions were never your fault, since you could never do any wrong in his eyes, after all. It's his fault he didn't drown you in even more heaps of affection, to further remind you of just how much he needs you.

It is his fault you are dead.

Overcome with drowsiness, Miguel heedlessly packs his daughters lunch for school that day. Despite how you are usually the one who does this task, since you have always adored looking after the little one, you needed your rest. And he was insistent on treating you with even more intensive care, all to prove that he is the right one for you. No one else. Meanwhile, Gabriella sits at the kitchen table with her backpack on, swinging her short legs back and forth. She is bright with full energy that contradicts her father's state in a comical manner.

"Y/N/N always cuts my food into cool shapes! Yesterday, they made my sandwich star-shaped!" Gabriella exclaims to her father with admiration.

The mere mention of your name from someone else makes Miguel freeze. A sudden surge of anger wraps around his lungs like a sheen layer of morning dew resting on Spring grass. You treat her with such attentive care, why can't he get any of that? What is so special about her that he doesn't have? What does he need to change about himself in order to get you to love him the way you so fatuously love her? Miguel casts his gaze across the counter and finds several bottles of cleaning products you must have forgotten to put away. So endearing, so adorable. An idea then sparks. While Gabriella continues to babble about how cool and amazing you are, Miguel finds himself considering something he will never be able to take back.

Just a dash of some drain cleaner in her sandwich and this problem will fade away.

"Y/N/N!" The sound of your nickname shouts through the air upon your arrival. Gabriella is more than elated to greet you, but your eyes remain locked on Miguel. In other circumstances, he'd be thanking the heavens above for this bit of attention you have given him. At this moment, however, there is a disturbed gleam of horror in your expression that makes his stomach twist with apprehension.

The energy is not directed towards Gabriella, as you caress her cheek and gift her that smile of yours that rivals sunlight. Miguel inadvertently rolls his eyes at the sight, envious as ever. As she continues to ramble to you about her success at a recent soccer game, you retrieve all the cleaning products and return them to their respective place underneath the sink. Not without shooting a burning glare at Miguel, however. Had he made his intentions that obvious? You wave him aside from his stance at the pink, glittery lunchbox and he obeys. Pretending to finish up his original efforts, you examine every snack inside for anything this crazed man may have tampered with.

"Good morning, button..." The nervous tremble in Miguel's voice doesn't tarnish the sheer adoration that seeps from his tone.

Your short response of "'morning" could barely be heard over the thunderous sound of his heart shattering. Yet again, you have broken his heart. And still, he will crawl back to you every time, aching for any inkling of your regard. Soon, you're saying your goodbyes to Gabriella and wishing her a wonderful day at school. Planting a quick peck to her cheek, Miguel's talons grow and dig crevices into the steering wheel while he waits for his daughter to join him in the vehicle. Oh, if only you could give him the same act of affection, he would never ask the universe for anything ever again.

And if only he had known how the rest of the morning would play out, he never would have left the house.

When Miguel finally pulls out of the driveway, giving you a quick wave that is not reciprocated, you let your guard down. You almost watched this man murder his daughter. Tears begin to form in your eyes as the revelation simmers like boiling water. With more time here, who knows what lengths he'll travel to?

Fortunately for you, with how occupied he was with his daughter and his own inner turmoil, he had entirely forgotten to lock the door to his office. The one place neither you nor his daughter were allowed to venture into. You were unaware of what is within the room or how anything inside could aid you in your attempts to escape. What you were aware of, however, is how paranoid he was in his efforts to keep you out of there. Peeling back the curtain and taking a fearful glance out the window, just to ensure this psychopath who claimed to be your soulmate wasn't lurking, you embark on your journey into uncharted territory.

Miguel had mentioned several times in his late-night talks with you about his job at Alchemax. His boring explanations about the technology he was working on there did wonders in lulling you to sleep. Now, seeing the scatterings of machinery that littered the room made you gasp from their futuristic appearance. One contraption had caught your attention, however. It seemed to be a current project, evident in the numerous tools and papers inked with equations littered around. Upon stepping closer to the contraption, a holographic screen sputters to life. You find several distorted, glitching files that all attain to you in some shape or form. Y/N's wish list, Y/N's checking account, and Y/N's security camera footage. Curiosity does spark, but with how swiftly Miguel is able to drop his daughter off and speed home to return to you, the time you had was not versatile.

If I can piece together how this gadget works, I may be able to call for help and get Gabriella and I as far away from this man as possible, you think to yourself.

The machine continues to stammer pathetically as if it were desperately chasing its own life. Trying to peruse through the technology to find anything useful, its poor performance prevented you from any fruition. In a fit of frustration, you pull your hand back and deliver a harsh smack! to the side of the machine. With how little time you have, you can feel your opportunity for freedom begin to fade away with every glitch that erupts. With one final, violent slam to the machinery, the metal borders protecting the numerous open wires inside fall, and a sudden wave of electricity surges through you. Your entire body goes rigid before you splat harshly against the ground. You are now left entirely lifeless, except for the electric shocks that cause your stiff form to twitch in response.

With that, your life was over. October 17th, 2099 — the day Miguel O'Hara inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

August 24th, 1934. It was all his fault. Maybe if he had stayed with you more and neglected the city, maybe if he hadn't been so careless with expressing his love for you. Maybe if he had tried harder, Peter Parker would still have you here at his side.

Peter, too, attempted vigorously to make your transition to this new life with him as smooth as possible. At the very beginning of this new adjustment, hope had still plagued your mind. As days turned into weeks, soon months, the forest fire that was your persistence had slowly been snuffed out like an old candle. Now, all you can do is sit at the window seat of his apartment and just pray that someone will recognize your face. From the numerous missing persons' posters that were now left behind in dumpsters and rain puddles, you could feel your luck grow thin. Everyday looked like this, all with this lovesick maniac at your beck-and-call, deluded enough to believe this fantasy of being your doting partner to be reality. The amount of egg-creams you've drank is bound to make you vomit at some point.

At the end of the day, you had gotten what you had wished for. You were once a journalist, putting all your time into unmasking the famous Spiderman. The truth of his identity was now in the palm of your hands. However, there were far more consequences to this wish than you had originally anticipated. And Peter is overcome with guilt when he thinks back to how disastrous his efforts to give you his heart turned out.

It's his fault he had so carelessly exposed his acts of heroism through the stench of gunpowder and chunks of blood beneath his fingernails. It's his fault he didn't spend more time showering you in the affection you truly deserved. It's his fault he never assured you the inevitable fate of the bastards that hurt you was never your fault, just so you can realize that everything he does, no matter how calamitous, was all for your benefit.

It is his fault you are dead.

Slow dancing with you in the gentle haze of the moonlight peaking through the window, swaying along to some romantic melody echoing from the saloon across the street, amorous words that you'd hear from the lips of a poet whispered into your ear — this is where heaven is. This is all that he has ever dreamed of; this is all he has ever wanted for the two of you. This is what makes him happy.

"My heart is bleeding in your hands, dollface. It's all yours, I'm all yours." Peter's breath tickles your neck, the infatuation-stained harangue finally coming to an end as he continues to sway you along to the harmonies outside.

You often joke to yourself that you could stab Peter in the heart, give him even just a sliver of the turmoil he has forced into your life, and he would still give you a smile with blood painting his teeth and that revolting gleam of pure, unadulterated devotion in his eyes. With this devotion, however, comes dark, dark side effects. This was not a surprise to you, considering how you've been locked up like a bad dog for these past several months. Still, when you inhale and the sharp odor of iron poorly masked with bleach overwhelms your senses, you find yourself taken aback.

The clamoring sound of the bolts to your prison cell your captor claims to be your love den being unlocked brings you out of your thoughts. When the door opens and Peter walks in, all you see is a euphoric, hopelessly-besotted partner. With the sudden stench that is still heavy in the air, however, you feel a new, sudden sense of dread with his presence. He is elated to see you, as he always is. An impassioned kiss to your lips and an ardent compliment are essential to your everyday encounter with the man you thought once to be a superhero. Sometimes, a gift of fresh, blood-red roses may accompany him in his attempts to woo you further, as well.

Through the whiff of cigarettes sitting on his trench coat when he envelops you in a much-needed embrace after his long day of work, you sense something else. The tang you had inhaled from outside the bedroom is now stuck to his form, nestled beneath the aroma of late-night brume and smoke. You force a gag down your throat and reciprocate the affection, trying to push your suspicions to the back burner in your mind. The rest of the evening is like any other: listening to some tunes from the radio as the two of you play a card game, all that Peter deems as a "romantic date". Your winning strike against him (he always lets you win, but he won't tell you this) falters when your brain can't help but wonder what he was so occupied with outside that door.

As devastating and exhausting as the truth is, coming to terms with reality is the only chance you have of returning to the life you once had. Hoping he'll wake from his delusions and let you off your leash is nothing more than a pipe dream, you realize. If you want freedom, you'll have to take it by the neck and claim it as yours. So, as the hours of the night fade into dawn, you conjure a plan in your head while the man beside you snores in a deep slumber (not without a few sleepy mumbles of flattery for you, though).

The scheme you had so flawlessly crafted was quick, simple, and easy. You would do something you have never done before: initiate affection with Peter.

This was your ploy: fulfill all the fantasies his lovesick brain was infested with and watch with a newfound sense of hope as he forgets to lock the door, too dazed from the pleasure your sweet attitude had brought him. And it worked marvelously. Not only did this man forget to lock the bedroom door, he had entirely forgotten to lock the front door of the apartment altogether. The prospect of this mistake being a test of your loyalty lingers, but when you watch through the window as he swings away from building to building, you let out a roar of laughter.

After your fit of hysterics, a smile sits on your face as you tread to the front door. Something stops you in your tracks when your hand hovers over the doorknob. When you leave, you will have nothing but months of memories to defend yourself with. Who are the authorities going to believe — you, a mischievous journalist, prone to bending the rules for a good headline, or Peter, the famous superhero, notorious for his restless efforts to save the city? Despite the freedom you have dreamed of being right in your palms, you step away from the door. Instead, you look around for any evidence deemed beneficial. Whatever can put him under the negative limelight is satisfactory to you.

No stone was left unturned in the apartment, all besides a single door at the end of a long corridor. The night before, Peter had been so frantic with his time inside (all in order to get back to you sooner) that he was sloppy with his efforts in cleaning his mess. The spilled bleach he had accidentally knocked over was still lying in a puddle; the nauseating scent of fresh blood still satiated through the air like a fragrance. And lastly, the latch on the door had been left unlocked.

Without so much as a second thought, you enter the room and let your curious eyes soak in the sheer horror that resides within.

A metal chair rests in the middle of the room, leather straps tightened around a body that sits motionless. Two tables are located on the sides of the room where all sorts of gut-wrenching tools reside. And there is blood everywhere. What was once a second bedroom for buyers of the apartment has now been morphed into a torture chamber of sorts.

The person restrained in the chair, you weren't sure if they were even alive. Everything is drowned in so much heaps of red, attempting to use your mere first-aid knowledge is impossible. What is most perceptible, however, is the way their eye had been forcefully torn from its socket. It resembles a runny egg how it causes bodily fluids to cascade down their face. The amount of flesh on their body that had been torn asunder, the gag in their mouth that was oozing with tears and saliva, the gushing blood that continues to hastily seep from infected wounds. Everything makes your eyes blur and your stomach churn with nauseau.

With the career you once had as a journalist, you've seen some disgusting sights. Sneaking onto crime scenes from a brawly saloon fight gone too far or snapping pictures of the result of Spiderman's "heroic" acts to save citizens, you've become desensitized to gory scenes. But, this. This wasn't like anything you have ever seen.

"Y/N?" You hadn't realized how deafening the silence was until the poor victim is able to speak out.

With one eye practically staring daggers into you, the revelation hits you like a train. That voice, that eye. This is no other than the man you had called your boyfriend before this mess had snuck into your life. Or, ex-boyfriend, as you'd prefer to refer to him as. The status of your relationship was left a mystery after the night he had come to your home drunk and reeking of someone's perfume. Your insistent demands for him to sober up and inform you of his recent whereabouts earned you a harsh slap across the face. With a loud shout of how much of a “shitty partner” and "piece of cityside trash" you are, the person you thought to be the love of your life storms out of your home. Never to be seen again.

Hastily, you unclasp the restraints that left his skin numb and bruised. With how malnourished he had become from his time spent here, it was fairly easy to support his weight. You swing his battered arm around your shoulder and help him stand on his emaciated legs. After only two steps, he pushes you off of him harshly with what little strength his body was able to garner. His attempts served well, as you feel your stomach hit a table adorned with blood-stained utensils that make you sick to imagine how they were used.

"You... How could you...?" As his weak voice fills the air, you feel your stomach fold into itself. Does he think you did this?

Opening your mouth to begin stammering your way through what you intended to be a thorough explanation, a loud bang! then pervades the air. Without a second to process his actions, the man grasped the pistol left on the table and pulled the trigger. A stream of smoke now stems from the barrel. The betrayal, the aversion, and the debility in his expression tell you everything you need to know. You were so close to the finish line that would grant you freedom, but when you shift your gaze down, you're devastated to find a bullet hole protruding through your chest. You then slump to the ground and your killer falls not long after you, the act of merely standing too much for his abused body.

With that, your life was over. August 24th, 1934 — the day Peter Parker inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

July 3rd, 2020. It was all his fault. Maybe if he had been more attentive to your safety, maybe if he hadn't exposed how soul-crushing the love he has for you is. Maybe if he had tried harder, Hobie Brown would still have you here at his side.

As opposed to the others, Hobie did little to ease you into this new life with him. The transition was curt, violent. With you as a bartender, drunken customers are most certainly not a rare sight. However, when you rejected a man who had one too many drinks and he reacted with violence, it caught you off-guard. And Hobie, the lead singer of the band that consistently played at your bar, had become blind with rage. Through the mess of the blood on your head when the beer bottle shattered against you and the apple-red matter staining Hobie's guitar as he smashes it relentlessly into the man's skull, these events somehow landed you where you are now.

An abandoned building on the outskirts of town, that's where you had woken up. The debris around the room was masked with string lights and band posters adorning the walls, as well as a rickety bed frame scarcely supporting a lone mattress. With bleary vision and an even fuzzier head, you gain consciousness abruptly. You find yourself on the bed with thick, itchy blankets draped around you, clothes that certainly do not belong to you on your body, and spiky belts used to restrain your limbs. Barbed wires and decaying planks of wood board the windows; the lack of passing cars and loud pedestrians outside cause you to worry about how far you are from the lively city you called home.

A lanky figure makes their presence known, dressed in those all-too-familiar garbs. Spider-Punk, the man you'd always see performing at your penurious bar, despite how widespread their band was. Much to your shock, his large hand finds the trim of his mask before tearing the garment off. Beneath is a gorgeous face embellished with piercings and a wild head full of hair. Large, wet eyes overwhelm you. And there is only one discernible trait you could read clearly through his expression: desire.

The way your plump body pools from the hems of the small clothing he dressed you in from his closet, fuck. Hobie has thought of this moment plenty of times — finally being able to take you away, just the two of you. He swore up and down he'd keep his fervid cravings at bay. But, when you're truly here in front of him, looking like that. He has to dig his long nails into his palms to physically restrain himself from lunging for you like a feral animal in heat. God, you look too fucking good.

From here on out, the relationship you have with Hobie sprouted into something only you would call treacherous, something only he would call rapturous. Being trapped within the small expanse of this grimy room, your new life has shown how perceptibly different your reactions are from one another. You are entirely dumbfounded at these new circumstances you've been forcefully thrust into. Meanwhile, Hobie attempts to put space between you both to avoid giving into his irresistible hunger. Though, it doesn't take a genius to notice how his hands always find their way to your naked skin and how his eyes linger on the intimate parts of your body. And it most certainly doesn't take a genius to notice the sheer terror and confusion stuck to your expression.

The discomfort the residence brings does little to ease you, as well. How your body is restricted against the firm mattress has your limbs aching with cramps. Your neck throbs from no support, considering the lack of pillows. But, Hobie always remarked that his chest is more comfortable to lay on, anyway. His clothing reeks of alcohol from the numerous bars and parties he’s attended, but also from the expensive perfumes, lotions, as well as the skin and hair products he received from his time being a runway model. The scent now clinging to your skin fails to bring you any of the tranquility he wished you would feel. Meals shared between you two were often dowsed in grease and cheap in flavor. Your captor never put much effort into making your dinnertime together anything reminiscent of a romantic date in Italy or something along those themes. He would much rather eat something else for dinner, after all.

This is what life looked like for the next several months. Records spinning and filling the air with headache-inducing songs he says he had written about you; Polaroid pictures scattered around the room that display different variations of the same scene: you sitting pretty with Hobie's hands and lips all over you. Never, never, has this man ever felt so much bliss in his entire life. He has always preached about how the idea of "love" is nothing more than propaganda meant to earn greedy, capitalistic companies more money with their cheesy movies and Valentine's Day garbage. When you entered his life in all your glory, however, he was ashamed to put his pride aside and admit those irritating pop songs may have been correct.

"I don’t need nothin’ else. 'Long as I have you here, birdie." He fidgets with the necklace he had given you that was currently draped upon your neck. His lucky guitar chip is swung upon the chain, since it always belonged to you, anyway. You will always be his muse.

With how carelessly he let himself be swathed in the warm blankets of love, how carelessly Hobie had let you slip from his fingertips.

It's his fault he had so frivolously expressed his protective nature through blood-stained bar floors and constricting arms encompassing your body. It's his fault he never assured you these conflicts weren’t your fault, it was only the monsters outside who wished to separate true love. It's his fault he had disciplined himself so heavily for his big heart, fearful of losing self-control with the love of his life.

It is his fault you are dead.

You regret not tallying the days you've spent locked up in this birdcage. Carving lines into the deteriorating walls to represent the slashes this new life has left in your sanity. It feels as if lifetimes have tread by you, the same day repeating itself like your own personal nightmare. Mere months have gone by and unbeknownst to you, the sweet escape you so despairingly crave is sitting upon the horizon. The circumstances of your freedom were the absolute last thing you had wished for, however.

Hobie’s history of being a heartthrob and heartbreaker were no secret to you, but his newfound loyalty to the innocent person he had taken from their previous life was even more evident. All the possessive, delusional fans that were convinced they'd marry their favorite singer, it was just so easy for Hobie to indulge in some casual fun before leaving them behind in his dust. As the story of all Spider-People goes, however, Y/N L/N is the tool that throws this man into a whirlpool of enamoring disarray. Embracing this newfound happiness was exhilarating for him, but Hobie was so dazed from it, he never had thought that karma would slither itself between you two.

A certain groupie, wholly convinced she and Spider-Punk are soulmates, was devastated to see how carelessly the love of her life abandoned her. Her mind had sprinted to all sorts of gut-wrenching conclusions. Am I not enough? Is he moving on? Is there someone else? Her worst nightmare materializes into reality when she stalks behind his tall figure and follows him to a building one late night, an odd pep in his step as he enters. What she assumes is just another exclusive club location with more taboo forms of partying, she is left stunned when she catches sight of what sights lie within.

The man of her dreams is found in the depths of infidelity. Through the crack of a rickety door coated with locks, there he was. Chest pressed against the back of someone else, who was sound asleep beneath an array of blankets like a baby in a crib. With his arms locked around them like a lifeline, Spider-Punk presses long, intimate kisses to their face. The words she had begged to hear from him, he was so frivolously drowning this stranger in such, despite their unconscious state. Every syllable was dripping with lust and smitten-induced hysteria. Tears brim in her eyes from how desperately she covets to be you in this moment.

With a shattered heart and a festering rage, she comes to the conclusion of what she must do. She will take him back, no matter what it takes.

Rarely did Hobie ever leave the expanse of your room, he wanted to stay with you forever. When he did, however, it was for some quick cash at yet another gig he and his bandmates had landed. Singing his lungs out, knowing every lyric revolves around the one waiting for him back home — you have brought him ecstasy he still cannot fathom the sheer weight of. A Friday night like no other, Hobie would spend the evening beneath the blinding spotlights, drinking the hours away, before returning home and cuddling with the only reason he chooses to live.

Through the barricaded windows and doors, a sudden stench of what appears to be smoke invades your senses. A big city like this, something along these lines is nothing out of the ordinary. After all, you were so thrilled to finally be granted a night to yourself, anything that would jeopardize this gift from the universe is seen as insignificant. When the heavy smell becomes more perceptible and the unmistakable sound of fire cracking gets louder, you feel dread tickle down your spine. The fear settles into your bones before you can think of a logical way to escape. Hobie did everything to ensure you wouldn’t leave his side, after all.

Air soon becomes precious, your lungs begin to squeeze, your skin is burning with scorching pain. It brings you the hell you had carelessly thought you felt before. A final cry of help into the suffocating air and you feel your life begin to fade. Meanwhile, the lost groupie stands near the entrance, holding back a satisfied smile. An onslaught of concerned pedestrians and firefighters accompany her. And Hobie was still far away, alcohol heavy in his system and the joy of returning to you seeping through his body like a drug. So blissfully unaware of what awaits him when he comes back to the place he had called home only with you.

With that, your life was over. July 3rd, 2020 — the day Hobie Brown inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

The effects your departure has left on these men are all nothing short of disastrous. No longer do they have the vibrant, loving souls they once held. Day by day, they are dragging the dead carcass that is their own body, suffering through every second and hoping it will be their last. The paths your death have led these three are unique from one another, but they all find themselves in one specific space. Spider-HQ, within Nueva York on Earth-928. The story the multiverse has written for them had so selfishly taken their happiness away from them. Taking the pen for themselves and creating the most beautiful fairytale where you are alive and back in their embrace is the only purpose they now have.

Now, Miguel O'Hara stands at the office he earned from becoming the leader of this society. Upon the various monitors displayed around him are scenes taken from numerous different universes. Lethargy sits like bags of bricks beneath his eyes, slowly blinking as he ensures no minor mistake is present. If the multiverse were to crumble, his sole objection to save the only important person in Spiderman's life will fall with it. When he verifies all is well on Earth-1610, something perceptible then catches his gaze and he does a double-take. Any sign of fatigue within him is snatched out of his body, leaving him more awake than ever before.

Within this universe, Miguel finds you.

Before, these universes have only displayed the effects your death has left on all the spider-people. Today, however, is the first time he has seen you alive since the day he lost you. Lyla snickers and accuses him of having a cute, teenage-like crush when she takes notice of the sheer captivation in his expression. Little does she know how much history lies in your mere face. It is heart-crushing, how much the simple sight of you enjoying a cup of coffee (with one too many sugars, as he knows you've always preferred) has such catastrophic effects on him.

Piles of schoolwork are scattered around your desk, covered in information adhering to your current college major. Even with your lack of sleep, school-induced annoyance, and general exhaustion over everything in your life, Miguel has never seen something quite as breathtaking as you in this moment. An epiphany sprouts in his brain as quickly as the sight of you caused his soul to blossom, just like it did all those years ago.

Maybe he can stop it. Maybe he can get you back.

Your death is inevitable, and even though Miguel was aware of this, dread still pervades his stomach at the prospect and churns with his breakfast. What really makes him shudder is when he reads through the cannon events assigned to you. A flare of jealousy ignites within him when he finds an unfamiliar name in the midst of your story.

Miles Morales, the Spiderman you are meant to fall in love with. What good is he? He's just some stupid kid, what more could he possibly do that Miguel can't? Why would you choose this loser when he can give you everything you have ever wanted!? In a sudden fit of rage, he grasps hold of whatever matter was closest to him and uses all the strength within his muscular arms to hurl it across the room. His chest heaves with infuriated huffs; his claws slice into the meat of his palms. He is enraged, yes, but he is mostly devastated that the beautiful face on his screen will soon meet their inescapable demise.

Not only will he do everything in his power to stop your death, but Miguel also vows to put his blood, sweat, and tears into ensuring you do not fall for this boy. Additionally, he will formulate a plan to bring you back into his arms without destroying the multiverse as a whole. With that being said, this does not change how reality on Earth-1610 continues to play out in front of him. It’s like a television show; a show he'd give a 1-star rating out of sheer pettiness.

In his last year of high school, Miles Morales' life was thrown into a tornado when his parents enrolled him in a new school to finish his last semester. And the 18-year-old boy absolutely dreaded this. New people, new location, new clothes that poke and jut at his skin uncomfortably. With the hefty responsibility of being Brooklyn's sole hero and hiding this truth from his loved ones, this sudden alteration in his environment does not relieve any stress. Swiftly, Miles conjures a plan to convince his parents to send him back to the way his life once was. Slack off, play dumb, and bring home report cards that are absolutely atrocious and his parents will have no choice but to give their son what he wants.

However, this is not what happened. Much to Miles' dismay, the grand idea his parents had was to not let him continue his education comfortably. Instead, they hired a tutor to aid him through his final months of high school.

Rio and Jeff had invited this tutor for dinner at their home, which Miles had flaked on entirely. Mostly due to his duty as Spiderman, but partially from how sour he was about the state of affairs. When he returned home, their anger was practically palpable. However, this disappointment soon shifted into a long, insufferable tangent about how marvelously smart, mannerly, and kind this tutor was and how embarrassed they were because of him. That Saturday, he was expected to join this tutor in the school's library or his parents may consider grounding him once again. Miles has to refrain from rolling his eyes at their never-ending lecture.

March 11th, 2023. It will be all his fault. This day is the day Miles Morales will inevitably meet the only thing that will ever matter to him.

To earn some extra support through your time in college, you had decided to take up tutoring in your free time. The myriad of students you had met all possessed the same attitude — the kind of attitude you'd expect from teenagers whose parents forced them to do schoolwork in their free time. Miles fit this category well, at first. And how your situation developed, it was oddly refreshing to finally meet someone who isn't repudiating every second with you.

15 minutes late, open backpack spilling with paper, tie loose around his neck, the student most certainly made his presence known when he stumbled into the silent library. Attempting to fix his untied shoelaces, you rush over to help him and save him from any further embarrassment he was already enduring. You are able to catch the folder that had tumbled out of his bag before it hit the ground, to where he mumbles a quick "thanks" in response. His gaze is still locked to the strings of his shoes he was attempting to tie together as swiftly as possible. Nearly tripping, Miles makes it to the table you had once organized thoroughly, but was now cluttered with everything this boy had thrown onto the surface.

Oblivious to you, the boy whose parents described as having a "heart of gold," was doing everything in his power to appear as rude and ill-mannered as possible. Deliberately arriving late, making a fool of the two of you, messing up the neat array of lesson plans and pencils you arranged. Anything to convince his parents to send him away from the nightmare that is this school. This plan of his was seized from his mind like a rug pulled out beneath his feet when he finally turns his shoulder and shifts his attention to you. What Miles expected would be the slowest, drawn-out hour he's ever experienced would actually be the most exciting, life-beaming 60 minutes he’s ever experienced.

Your voice sounds like honey as you introduce yourself to him. And that heart-stuttering smile of yours works wonders on him. Miles had already known your name, but hearing it from your mouth made him think he was listening to a symphony of angels. Since the last few stages of high school are stressful for everyone, you decided to cut him some slack and offer a kind hand for him to shake. All thoughts of his old school and the comfort it brought are all eradicated as he stares into your soul with those wide, bambi-brown eyes. After months in this new environment, you must be a gift the universe sent to compensate for all the misery he has endured. And fervently, Miles accepts you as the best gift he has ever received.

"I'm Spiderman." His mouth moves before his brain can compute. Your brows furrow in response, scrutinizing the confession for some sort of punchline.

“I mean- shit, uh… I mean, I’m Miles... You-You know, like- kilometers, yards, feet. Except, it's Miles this time... Y-... Y'know?"

His relentless stammering to try and prove himself worthy of your time while also acknowledging he accidentally told you his deepest secret earns him a quick giggle. And the sound bouncing from your lips is nothing short of paradisiacal, especially when he is the cause. A sudden wave of silence then rests between you both. You, laughing nervously to lighten the awkward tension. Miles, entirely flabbergasted at how he could have ever wanted to miss out on something as profoundly magnificent as this. His mind runs rampant while his wide eyes remain locked on your averting ones. Do it, do it, do it. Just do it already, Miles!

He pulls his hands up, your eyebrows furrowing once more trying to consider his intentions. He then lands his touch upon your shoulder.

"Hey..." Miles' voice drops several octaves, a fiddly excuse of a smirk forms on his lips, and he squints his twitching eyes that still hold the same crazed wonder they've had since they first landed on you.

"Hi...?" Your response expresses nothing but sheer confusion, not your face burning from the attention like Miles had initially strived for.

Wrapping your hand around his, your mere physical touch sends flares of electricity down his skin. Goosebumps bloom across his arms and his entire body halts in place, tense with shock and nerves. In an attempt to forcefully remove his hold on you, you're startled to find how he is now stuck to your hand. As if he had lathered his hand in heaps of glue before touching you, the efforts you took to get this boy off of you only resulted in your skin painfully stretching.

So enveloped in the way his heart lurches from holding your hand, a sudden, hushed whimper of "you're hurting me!" and Miles feels a gasp involuntarily escape his throat. Attempting to pull away from you, as much as he wishes not to, only intensifies your pain. What had Peter told him to do when this happened? Oh yeah, just relax! But, how on Earth can he possibly relax when your hand is in his!? 

People are staring, exclaiming in annoyed distress over their interrupted study time. You're trying to piece together how Miles had managed to cement his hand to yours and why he refuses to let go of you. Meanwhile, Miles is apologizing profusely for inadvertently harming you, while also soaking in how rhapsodic it is to have your hand in his. He knows he has fully fallen into oblivion when the prospect of letting go of you hurts him more than the relentless pull and twist of his flesh.

So much for first impressions, right?

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ MANY LIVES THAT COULD HAVE

BEEN ENTANGLED FOR ETERNITY . . . ❞

gif credits :: miguel, miles, peter, & hobie.

tag list :: @honey-beeuwu, @hex-touchstarved, @thel0v3hashira143, @cailey1011, @mickxxstxvxns-blog, @flaming-vulpix, @puthypirate42069, @dolliemoons, @mikalovesnoodles, @explosiongamora, @thegalacticnacho091, @brinleighsstuff, @shinsou-hoetoshi, @uselessbutinteresting, @amortentor, @fried-milkfish, @officiallypoopoo, @lu-lupe, @belladonnashifter, @forgottenbynature, @marooseshawnash, @gothika-spacech1k, @funtimefoxybae, @ethnicbratz, @painpainflyaway, @shadepelt4673, @vivacioussaint, @palepettycharmer, @rqdior, @clownwiki, @clever-username96, @bisoudoll, @darlingdontwe, @naiomiwinchester, @weskennedysgirl, @chubbuart, @simpfo, @neytirisarrow, @leilani04, @lizzymizzy-blogg, @sublimesoulmagazine, @minimari415, @hcmay, @jinuaei, @altusha, @daisygirlll, @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @islandgyal06, @the-hufflebird-girl, @laucoeurs, @nepherawinchester18307, @tiredao3reader, @decadentlawyerapricotcowboy, @kitisb0red, @gabiacee, @reneuv, @letmegetthestrap, @krentkova19, @ayupfrogg, @vita-nire, @emmbny, & @realifezompire

[umeumeumee]

bf izu hcs!

♡ at first; he wasn’t even able to touch your arm without physically flinching away.

♡︎in his defense, he’d never had a girlfriend, and then the one time he really, really likes a girl— she actually likes him back; just as much!

♡︎lowkey has a staring issue. You’ll just catch him gaping at you every now and then, mostly in shock at the reoccurring realization that he gets to call you his girlfriend

♡︎can’t call you his gf. physically it won’t come out of his mouth.

♡︎super gittery! Always nervous around you(it’s cute!) he’s always kind shaky from how nervous he is.

♡︎FLIPS OUT when you hold his hand; is scared on how to hold your hand back. What if he holds it too tight and hurts you? what if his fingers are in a weird position? or his hands too sweaty?—

♡︎gets really embarrassed when you reassure him that it is, indeed, okay for him to touch you. not that he’d do so without asking… ever.

♡︎later into the relationship, he’s still shy, nervous, not really used to actually having someone to call ‘his’.

♡︎THE SWEETEST BOYFRIEND EVER, though. ahhhhh!

♡︎treasures you. treats you like a princess— like a queen.

♡︎first time you kissed him, it was on the cheek; he froze. literally went from ice cold in the winter air, to boiling hot. every single cell in his body flaming. he felt a pop in his chest and he swore it was his heart exploding.

♡︎his face is always either rosy pink or tomato red, no matter what you do. touch his arm? blushes. compliment him? fumes. kiss him? he explodes—

♡︎if i’m being fr… he’s a bad kisser; and he knows it. he’s just so nervous, so, so shy— his lips are so stiff and awkward, he doesn’t know what to do or how to move.. not to mention the fact your hand on his bicep was sending electricity through his whole body.

♡︎still, so sweet.

♡︎loves you so much. he literally cries when he gets home from dates because he loves you so much.

♡︎ definitely can’t do anything without some kind of permission; doesn’t kiss you, doesn’t hug you, call you, text you, without consent. he’s scared of over stepping.

♡︎ eventually, though, he gains enough courage to text you first— if he’s feeling studious; he might even call you.

♡︎definitely squeals and kicks his feet at every text you send him.

♡︎ his home screen on his phone is the one you sent him after your first date. you were kissing his cheek, and his face was so red it was absolutely humiliating.

♡︎every single feminine thing he sees in public reminds him of you.

︎♡︎buys you around 10 gifts a week! Super sweet things; your favorite candy, cute things like keychains and cute, surprise action figures.

♡︎ definetly buys you dior makeup. Palets, lipgloss.

♡︎ you get a new bouquet of flowers every 6 days! Your favorites, cute pink flowers. He knows you love them.

♡︎any time you say you think something is cute either online or in person, you always receive it in a cute bag in-front of your dorms door the next week or so.

♡︎ since you started dating him, you’ve been absolutely glowing in femininity.

♡︎his mom, ABSOLUTELY adores you!

♡︎she mentioned marriage the first time izuku introduced you to her, and you’ve never seen his face so red.

♡︎you love inko just as much— she’s your favorite! and izuku loves your relationship with his mom, your mutual affection is so sweet to him.

♡︎overall, such a sweetheart. his mom raised him right. he treats you so good, and he’s such a respectful boy you die every time he comes near.

♡︎definitely married you; his first and only girlfriend!

[roseychains]

love the red flags for jjk guys...what about the green ones?

Green flags with jjk guys

A/n: thanks for the request! It was fun to write :3

C/w: fluff all sfw fluff

Gojo: princess

Gojo treats you with what can only be described as princess treatment. He does anything and everything for you, ask for the moon and he would get it for you. Shoes untied? He will get down on one knee and tie it. Your feet hurt from walking? Bridal carry all the way home. His wallet is yours, and he worships the ground you walk on. Your his most prized possession, your his queen.

Geto: sweet

He never runs out of complements and praises to adorn you with. He is soft spoken and kind, a real sweet talker. Even if at times cheesy, he never fails to make you feel like the most gorgeous, strong, intelligent person ever. It doesn’t matter where you are, what time it is, who’s around you, even when he’s in a sour mood. He can’t help but remind you of how pretty you are, how much he loves you, coupled with gentle kisses, or a soft hand rubbing your back.

Nanami: service

His love language is acts of service. He just likes, doing things for you. Massage your shoulders, hold your bags, he’d even learn how to do things for you like your hair, or painting your nails. He doesn’t care how Feminine it comes of as, he wants to do it for you. Not to mention, once he realizes something that you like, he gets skilled at it. Hell, even embarrassing things like waxing. If you wanted him to, he would learn how to for you.

Toji: protective

If anyone can make you feel safe and protected at all times, it’s your scary dog of a boyfriend. He’s huge, and not afraid to hold you in public. He does anything and everything to ensure your comfort and safety. He walks you to and from anywhere, he will drive, and keep you on dial whenever you are out. If you ever need a ride, he’s speeding to get his girl out of wherever she doesn’t want to me. And when your sick, he’s suddenly become a trad wife and is nursing you back to health.

Choso: available

There’s no one who understands how you are feeling better than choso, sometimes even more than yourself you think. Somehow, he’s able to understand everything with great empathy that you where unaware a man ever could. He’s always willing to comfort you about it and make you feel better, he knows exactly what to say. Not once has he ever or will he ever make you feel crazy, that your overreacting, that it’s not a big deal. He approaches everything with great kindness and empathy.

Sukuna: strong

He’s just… so big. He’s quite the work of art and it always ends up being in your favor. He can and will carry you to the ends of the world. Your feet will never ache again. He won’t just carry you, he will carry your bags, groceries, even help you move furniture (by himself). He’s also quite the intimidating figure in public. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way he has one of his large hands wrapping around your back is enough to scare of anyone from his girl. Not to mention, it’s quite fun to sit on his back while he does push ups.

Yuji: proud

Yuji is so lucky to have you. He feels lucky, and he’s boastful of what a wonderful partner he landed. He genuinely feels so small around you, because he thinks your just so much better than him. He cannot begin to comprehend how he ever ended up with a goddess like you, and he will make that clear. He flexed you and shows you around like your a treasure. He wants the world to know your not just anyone’s girlfriend, your HIS girlfriend. HIS!! He’s so giddy all the time about you.

Megumi: caring

He is such a gentle lover, soft, kind, caring, aware. He knows you both physically and emotionally. So no matter what is bothering you, a pain in your shoulders or a down mood, he will figure it out and fix you right up. He takes his time helping you unwind, and is incredibly patient. Treats you like glass, with soft words and touches that leave you like putty in his arms by the end of it. He will stay by your side even after you feel better, to make sure you stay feeling good.

Inumaki: fun

You haven’t had this much fun in a relationship since childhood. He makes you feel young again. There is never a dull day with Inumaki, in fact he always makes sure your are happy and entertained. There’s nothing that makes him happier than seeing you smile, so, he make it his commitment to make you smile as much as possible. So whatever that may be, taking you out to dinner, roughhousing while playing a game, your laugh is the light of his day.

Yuta: priority

He will always put you first. He thinks about you with every decision he makes, and plans ahead accordingly. You will never ever have to worry about being a second choice, your always his first. He would feel devastated if you ever had to question how much you meant to him, so to prevent that from happening he takes you into consideration with everything. It doesn’t matter how small or trivial it may seem. If it could involve his girl, he will make sure that she feels prioritized, no matter what.

[letbludcook]

warning. explicit sexual content,

tags. masturbation, mirror sex, cum swallowing, healing from SA (not explicitly mentioned), wholesome sex, your f/o being the most understanding person to ever exist in this cruel world

whenever you are striken with nightmares of your past, way before you were blessed with his gentle love and presence, you wake up in cold sweat, with sheer repulsion over being touched.

fortunately, your man never took it personally. in fact he's the one to remind you that it's okay, it's valid, and his girl is so strong for being able to survive everything she's been through. sometimes it takes you months without having sex; most of the time you pity him as physical intimacy is his love language, but his encouragement makes you survive the hell of it. gradually, with time and love, you manage come back to your usual self.

"what a strong lady you are," he assures you all the time.

however, you're not the only one being strong here—you affirmed that much when you woke up in the middle of the night and noticed him breathing heavily.

his hands are clasped to yours, and you can hear him moan your name repeatedly. you thought he was sick at first, but quickly noticed the synchronized up and down movements marking the blanket. 

he is touching himself.

you're not even hugging each other—it seems like he scooted you away from him before starting the act—all he settles for while pleasuring himself is holding your hand.

that consideration, toppled with your yearning to be touched again, is more than enough to rekindle your arousal and initiative.

you immediately scoot on top of him; he squirms in surprise, but your quick command comes to him, "continue touching yourself, my love."

he takes a while to process the situation, with a shy ask he averts his gaze away, "are you sure?"

"please?" you whisper, then pepper his face with wet kisses. your lips then slide to his ear; you give it a smooth lick before begging yet again, "let me hear you, darling."

it doesn't help him hold back, not at all, because you know his ears are pretty sensitive. in fact you only take advantage of it when you really want him to do something.

"y-yes—hah—yes, my love," he babbles, the jerking of his hand starts to produce a slick noise; perhaps his pre-lubricated dick helped on that. you continue kissing him while on it; moans escape as you feel him sucking on your lower lip.

"you'd let me taste, wouldn't you?" you whisper after sucking on his ear.

"d-do you—ah—do you want to—"

"i wouldn't ask if i don't."

and so, as languid as ever, you slide your hands down below and join his hand in bobbing up and down his dick. he whimpers, and somehow, the sight of your composed, level-headed man whimpering helplessly underneath you exudes blissful shudders. oh, to be loved by him. to be foolishly and utterly loved by someone like him.

"just want—oh fuck—just want to make sure," indeed, because after your assurance, he grips a fistful of your hair and then guides you down to his slick erection. the gentleness of his hold says a lot about how your moment below him would go. it is, after all, the least that he could do to compensate for how hard he's about claim your mouth. he couldn't control himself anymore. and he knows you want him to lose control. he, who has always been the epitome of control, could not embody such pride when faced with matters concerning your desires. if you'd ask him to die he'd be willing to do so then and there.

his girth filled your mouth; your eyes widen, and tears build up on the tip of your eyes as soon as he arches his back. he doesn't last long, much to your pleasure, because after five hard thrusts he immediately spurts his cum deep down your throat. even after he let it all out, he did not let go of your head. he trapped your mouth in his confines, ensuring you wouldn't waste a single drop because that's what you want. he would feel a bit shy if not for your persistence and enthusiasm. anyone would think that pampering him like this, drinking all of him so lovingly without wasting any drop, and more would be because you're under him, serving him with all you have.

but, as a matter of fact, he is the one serving you. he likes everything you want to do, everything you want to explore. hell, once you ask him for a child, he'd spend the whole night cumming inside you until you couldn't anymore and he's all spent and dry—messed up to his very core because that's what you want.

he almost laughs at his thoughts, and doesn't let go of your mouth even after his dick has softened. in fact, he even bobs your head up and down his now limp cock, pumping every last of his fluid that might be left of him. you deserve it, after all. earn your hard work. swallow every drop. have him by your mouth as earnestly as he would offer his life for you.

the next time you did it, he ensured there'd be a mirror right in front of you two. he takes you from behind, awkwardly at first, because you're not used to seeing yourself all pleasured and worked up while he pistons his hips inside. but then, whenever you stray your eyes away, he would adjust your head back to facing the mirror again as if to say; 'no, no, don't turn away. look at me doing you. i am the one making you feel this way, see that?'

and then he asks question he's been repeating since earlier, “am I hurting you, darling?”

“n-no,”

“yeah? come on, then. look at that pretty face," he punctuates the sweet whisper with a thrust, “see how well you’re taking me?”

“i do! hah, love, i—i'm 'bout to—"

"mhm," he closes his eyes and pulls you closer so he could nuzzle his lips on your back, “you’re clenching harder on me now, baby. are you close?”

"i am!" you lift your body up to see both of your features well—from how your breast bounces with every thrust and how his hands grip your waist to support himself. you savored the feeling—intense and rattling to your very core. his fingers flick your nipple, then he instructs you to lick your fingers too and play with the other nib.

oh, you want to close your eyes. you feel like you don't need the mirror for assurance anymore. he's the only one who could do you like this, the only one who could love you like this. you could finally relush the pleasure in without your past haunting you. and so you do—five seconds, ten seconds, until you hear his pants escalate to moans, ‘til his thrusts go rapid and unrestrained, 'til he’s blabbering how all of this affects him the way you do.

you reach your peak with a moan so loud neighbors might've heard it, and he follows suit not long after, loudly as well, because he's so aroused to see both of you lovingly doing each other in front of the mirror, all spent and sweaty.

you plop down the bed, but his hold doesn't falter. you feel his weight against your back, then he whispers sweet nothings while kissing your ear. “’s okay, it’s okay. open your eyes now and see me.”

you'll never know how delightful he is when you didn't flutter it open again; he feels your breathing slow down instead, and not long after, you drift to sleep with a smile.

indeed, it’s okay for you to close your eyes now. it's okay for you to be touched, for he is the only one who could do you this way.

WOLFGANG grimmer, KENZO tenma, TOJI fushiguro, NANAMI kento, KAGAYA ubuyashiki, REINER braun, LEVI ackerman

soooo this is an excerpt from my fave smut work way back :3 originally an erwin smith fanfic but when i reread it i realized i could also see the vision for my other fave characters:P

[very-straight-blog]

It really tires me how some fans try to make Aegon look like an asshole who doesn't give a shit about anything. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of his character as such. Of course he cares, that's literally the essence of his personality. He cares. He and Aemond both feel too much emotion, but if Aemond sublimates into self–improvement, trying to be strong, cold and detached, then Aegon is literally an open wound. I want to talk about this, also using Tom's interviews (yes, I think the actor's opinion is valid in this matter) and the few scenes that we have in the first season.

We know that Aegon didn't want the throne and wasn't ready to rule. The scene with Alicent, who explains to him the prospects for the future of their family, seems very traumatic to me. Imagine what it's like to know from your childhood that the lives of people close to you depend on you, on how strong you'll be. Such a burden can destroy anyone. You can't just ignore it.

Next, we're shown how Aegon drinks on Driftmark. And that's a pretty sad sight - several cups in a row, wincing, as if taking a medicine that will help him to feel better.

Actually, I like the theory that he gets drunk after Aemond says that Helaena is his future queen. Another reminder that he'll have to marry his own sister, for whom he has no feelings. And he drinks because he tries to numb his pain.

The same goes for his obviously unhealthy attitude towards sex - he uses it to numb his loneliness. I believe that Aegon literally didn't have the opportunity to feel what love is in any form. His father disliked him and showed it openly. His mother loved him, but she never knew how to express it the way he needed to. He was married to his sister (the tragedy for both of them) and it was a matter of duty, not feelings. At the time of the first season, Aegon is deeply unhappy and this is obvious. I have every reason to believe that his need for physical intimacy is based on the fact that this is the only form of love he can receive. Considering that Aegon is quite smart, I even think that he himself understands how ugly this form is, but there's nothing he can do. During the act, I guess in some unhealthy way it really saves him from loneliness, longing and the need to be loved, but in the end it makes him even more unhappy.

Then it's impossible not to remember the eighth episode and the famous:

It's still clear that family is important to him. Yes, he feels like a stranger among his relatives, but it hurts him just because he cares. He cries and says "it will never be enough for you or father" because he wants it to be enough. He still loves them and wants them to love him back.

"What Aegon wants more than anything is to be told by his dad ‘I have faith in your capabilities as a young man. I see you bringing prosperity to King’s Landing.’ But he hasn’t said any of those things. His dad has completely ignored him, in fact, throughout his entire youth." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Esquire

Next, we can move on to episode nine and the fact that Aegon ran away. I've seen a lot of opinions that this is an indicator of selfishness and like...what? He was scared. This follows from the script:

He was scared, he'd never leave his family, much less Sunfyre. It was a decision made in a panic when he realized that his father had died and the moment he had feared all his life had come - he needed to accept the crown to protect his family.

During the conversation in the carriage, we see that Aegon was really hurt that his father didn't love him:

He even said "because he didn't like me" when talking about his father's attitude towards him. He didn't use the word "love" because it was obvious to him that his father didn't love him. He used the word "like", unknowingly emphasizing that he couldn't count on even simple sympathy.

He's also well aware that Viserys could have named him the heir, but didn't do so simply because he didn't want to and because of this, he - the eldest son, feels unworthy of the throne, and also completely lost.

When Alicent tells him that Viserys wanted to make him the heir before his death, an emotional dam breaks inside him, it's literally written in the script:

And at this moment, looking at the dagger, he's not even listening to Alicent, he's completely in his thoughts - maybe, at least for a second, his father cared about him. And when he asks his mother if she loves him, we see how much he craves love, how broken he really is, how important his family is to him.

I know this post is insanely long and I haven't even analyzed the various microexpressions in Tom's acting, but I'm really tired of people wanting to make Aegon something pure evil.

"I also see Aegon as being incredibly complex. He's not an out-and-out psychopath. I see a multilayered character that just has endless potential of pits of vulnerability and empathy and things that we don't see. I think it's his vulnerability that breeds the darkness. It's the way he copes, it's his security, it's his safety blanket, it's an addictive coping mechanism for him to shut things out and to be cold." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Entertainment Weekly

[vrystalius]

💕 The Love Languages of the Hashira pt.2

How the hashira express their love for you pt.2!

Here is pt.1 with Sanemi, Gyomei, Kyojuro and Tengen <3

Here’s my masterlist for the hashira.

Author’s Note: The hashira I wrote about in here are not my absolute favs, so maybe they are a bit oc…

Not proofread!

Pairing: Giyu, Obanai, Shinobu, Mitsuri x gn!reader

💙 Giyu Tomioka 💙

Physical affection (intensity: 8/10)

Giyu isn’t really the guy for pda. He likes it when you do it to him, planting gentle kisses on his cheek to fluster him, but Giyu comes out of his shell inside doors. He wants to hold you close during whatever you are doing. He would stand behind you while you cook, holding you by your waist and burying his face into your neck, just taking in your scent, or while you write letters to your friends, he would sit beside you and lean his head onto your shoulder. Giyu is silently clingy and he would never admit it.

Quality time (intensity: 9/10)

For Giyu personally, the best time spend is time spend with you. He likes it when you two hang out. It doesn’t really matter what you two are doing, he just likes spending time with you, doing things you like. His favourite thing to do with you though is to solve Tsume Shogi. You’d sit there for hours at a time, playing against each other while snacking on a small side dish. Giyu would always win in the end, and as a reward he always wants a kiss or cuddles.

Another thing he likes to do with you is to soak in a hotspring alongside you. He would get flustered at first, eying your beautiful body from the side, but after a while he’d calm down. Giyu would blow bubbles into the water while you’d talk, or rub essential oils (that Mitsuri gave you to try out) onto your back.

“Hey. How about we do a round Shogi tonight? I have a new strategy I want to try out.”

❤️Obanai Iguro❤️

Gift giving (intensity: 8/10)

Obanai would buy things that remind you of him while he’s out on longer missions, then give them to you when he returns. He likes to see you flustered and would leave a comment about it, but deep down he enjoys making you happy and buying you things like trinkets and clothing items and then seeing you wear or have them on you.

He also likes it when you get things for him. No matter how silly it is, Obanai will try to wear them or have them on himself to show off what a generous and kind S/O he has. Sanemi would tease the shit out of him for being so smitten for you to go as far as having Kaburamaru wear a little snake-sized scarf that matches Obanai’s yukata, wich you had bought him.

Words of affirmation (intensity: 6/10)

Obanai would tease you, yes, but he would give you even compliments and affectionate words in return, especially behind closed doors. He would stare at you, admire you with a lovesick-stare, but immediately stiffen up and throw a stingy comment at you when you catch him staring. But he apologises quickly and would mumble a quiet compliment your way.

“Hey, Obanai, what’s that thing you have around your wrist?”

“It’s a bracelet.”

“Looks stupid, why’d you get it?”

“None or your business. And it’s pretty, dumbass.”

🩷 Mitsuri Kanroji 🩷

Words of affirmation (intensity: 8/10)

Mitsuri would be the happiest when she can make you happy, and her way to do that is to compliment you as much as she can. She’ll compliment your style (even if you’re wearing the uniform), your beautiful face, your nice hair and your warm hands. Mitsuri also loves it when you compliment her, it makes her feel all flustered and red. She loves it when you tell her that she’s perfect the way she is, and remind her of her skill, strength and beautiful personality. It makes her all giddy and boost her confidence.

Physical touch (intensity: 10/10)

Mitsuri is the queen of physical affection, and she loves to give it out and get it back. She will hug you out of nowhere, give you a big kiss in the middle of street, or cuddle you the whole night and keep you close to herself. Mitsuri adores it when you do it back to her as well.

Quality time (intensity: 7/10)

Now, eating food is one of her and your favourite activities, but preparing the food together is even more fun. Pancakes, dango, mochi, ramen etc etc, somehow you both end up burning or undercooking something, even if the fish doesn’t even need cooking or anything of the sorts. The dish turns out fine, and you two enjoy it to the fullest. For Mitsuri, you two have to make around three or four batches extra while you’re content with one or two servings. She’s a little self-conscious about the amount she’s eating, but hearing your reassurance makes her all happy and giddy again.

“Are you sure it’s okay if I take the rest of your pancakes?? I mean, if you’re okay with it! Thank you!!”

💜Shinobu Kocho 💜

Acts of service (intensity: 8/10)

Shinobu is very sleep deprived and tired after caring for injured and sick members of the corps all day, so having you take care of her after a long day feels like heaven to her. She loves it when you help her change out of her uniform, having her dress in more comfortable clothes. She could melt when you hold her close and give her a little massage, and she could cry a little when you make her food and make sure she herself is taken care of. After a long day for caring others, it’s nice to be taken care of in return.

Words of affirmation (intensity: 6/10)

Shinobu likes to boost your confidence and make you flustered, kind of makes her day. She also adores it when you compliment her, it makes her feel warm inside and give her little bursts of energy to keep going. Reassurance gives her security, and she likes the feeling of knowing that at the end of the day, she’ll come back to you and back into your arms.

“Aren’t you a sweetie? Thank you for bringing me lunch. Would you like to stay with me and eat?”

💠

Thanks for reading <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

Note: Over 100 notes!! Tysm guys!! I don’t really know the personalities of the hashira here so I’m surprised you guys like it so much. I’m not complaining though <3

[dissapointu]

you’re a speedy bitch babe-

anyways! What if- what if jinx had a girlfriend that was affectionate! I assume Jinx is touch starved and to have a girlfriend that loves to cuddle, hold hands and etc!

That sounds so sweet and heartwarming for Jinx! Need this for her

• Cuddles: Jinx would absolutely melt under the attention of an affectionate girlfriend who loves to cuddle. She’s used to being alone, used to feeling abandoned or isolated, so your constant affection would overwhelm her in the best way possible. At first, Jinx might be hesitant, unsure how to handle the kindness without feeling guilty or afraid of being vulnerable. But slowly, she’d come to crave it. After a long day filled with chaos and unpredictability, she’d seek out the quiet comfort of your arms, curling up against you, her head resting on your chest as you run your fingers through her hair.

• Holding Hands: Jinx would be delighted by something as simple as holding hands. It would be a small but powerful gesture for her. She’d likely want to intertwine your fingers tightly, as if afraid to let go, afraid of losing that connection. At first, she might be jittery or fidgety, not used to the steadiness of love. But over time, holding hands with you would become a grounding force for her, a reminder that there’s someone who’s not going to leave her.

• Physical Affection: Jinx, while chaotic and unpredictable, would become a lot more tender with a girlfriend who showers her with love. She might cling to you during moments of insecurity, holding you tight when she’s afraid or when the voices in her head become too loud. She’d love when you trace your fingers down her arms or lightly graze her skin, even if she can’t always verbalize how much it means to her. There’s something about the way you touch her—soft, gentle, full of warmth—that brings her a sense of peace she doesn’t often get from anyone else.

• Spontaneous Affection: As someone who craves attention and affection, Jinx would get a little playful with it. She’d surprise you with spontaneous hugs, jumping into your arms, or wrapping herself around you in tight embraces. She might bury her face in your neck, hiding her face because she’s shy or overwhelmed by her feelings. Sometimes she’d need reassurance, needing to hear that you love her and that you’re not going anywhere. She might ask for a “just because” kiss, insisting it’s to “make her feel better,” though it’s clear she just wants to be close to you.

• Tender Moments: Despite her wild personality, Jinx’s affection would be full of tenderness. She’d seek you out in quiet moments, wanting to be close even when things are calm. Maybe she’d sit next to you, not needing to speak, just enjoying the simple comfort of your presence. She could be a little clingy at times, but in her mind, it’s because she knows how rare this kind of love is and doesn’t want to let it slip away. Her girlfriend would be her anchor, the one person who can offer her the stability and safety she’s never known.

• Building Trust: At first, Jinx might struggle to fully trust you with her vulnerabilities. She’s been through a lot and likely has difficulty with intimacy and dependence. However, over time, your patience and unwavering affection would slowly break down the walls she’s built. She would start to feel more secure, understanding that you are there for her no matter what. When she finally lets her guard down, you’d see a side of her that’s both playful and sweet, a side that’s only reserved for you.

• Jealousy and Protective Moments: Jinx, with her fiery and possessive tendencies, might get a little jealous at times, especially when she sees others giving you attention. It wouldn’t be a malicious jealousy, but more of an emotional reaction because she’s so used to being overlooked and alone. You’d quickly reassure her with your affection, maybe pulling her in for a kiss or hugging her tightly. In return, she’d shower you with even more love to make you feel just as wanted, clinging to you like a lifeline.

• Playful Side: Jinx would also have a very playful side when it comes to affection. She’d probably initiate tickle fights or challenge you to silly games just to get you to laugh and be close to her. Her love for you would be fun and carefree, and she would enjoy the little moments—holding you in her arms, kissing you on the cheek, and even laughing at how she could never get enough of you.

Drabble to go along with it:

The air is thick with the scent of metal and gunpowder, but you hardly notice. Not when Jinx is curled up beside you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck as she lets out a content sigh. She’s shaking slightly, a nervous habit you’ve come to understand. But tonight, there’s a calmness to her, as if your touch is the only thing grounding her to this moment.

You pull the blanket tighter around both of you, your fingers gently grazing through her wild, messy hair. She hums softly, pressing herself closer, her small hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if she’s afraid you might slip away. You’re used to her chaotic energy, her explosions of excitement, but moments like these? They’re rare.

“Stay close,” she murmurs, her voice so soft it almost breaks your heart. She’s usually all bright eyes and loud bursts of energy, but when she’s like this, when she’s vulnerable and small in your arms, you get a glimpse of the person behind the wildness. She’s just a girl who needs affection, love that doesn’t come with expectations or conditions.

You tighten your hold on her, kissing the top of her head lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Jinx,” you promise, your voice steady and calm. You feel her breath hitch against your chest, the weight of her emotions pressing down in the silence. She’s used to being alone, used to living in a world where love is unpredictable, fleeting. But you’ve shown her that it doesn’t have to be.

Her fingers trace small patterns on your arm, and you smile softly. She doesn’t always know how to express it, but the way her body seeks you out—the way she pulls you closer, always searching for more—says everything.

When her hand slides into yours, fingers intertwining, you hold on tighter. You can feel her pulse, fast and erratic, but steady under your touch. “I like holding hands,” she whispers, almost sheepishly, as if it’s something she doesn’t deserve. But you squeeze her hand reassuringly, silently telling her that this—this tenderness, this connection—is exactly what she deserves.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes glinting with something deeper, something softer. “Promise you’ll never leave?” she asks, the question almost tentative, a quiet vulnerability she hides behind her usual chaotic grin.

“Promise,” you say without hesitation, brushing a lock of hair from her face. You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips as you lean down to kiss her forehead, gentle and warm. She melts into it, her body relaxing fully against yours.

For once, in the stillness of the moment, there are no explosions. No chaos. Just you, Jinx, and the simple comfort of affection. And as she buries her face in your shoulder, holding onto you like you’re her anchor, you know that you’re the safe place she’s always needed.

And you’ll never let go.

[frias2468]

Damian Wayne hcs

idk why I can’t find any good ones so ima make my own but if you have any recommendations I’d love some

. Likes his coffee black because he thinks of coffee as a drink to get energy not to enjoy but if he knows your gonna want some he’ll make his how you like it which is the cutest thing ever

. Speaks a shit load of languages but he grew up speaking Arabic and I think he struggles with English sometimes.

.adding on to the Arabic thing he’ll tell you complements In Arabic especially when you two first get together because that’s the only way he can physically get them out his mouth.

. When he first started liking you he went strait to dicks room because him and star fire are the only normal relationship he has in his life. Dick thought it was so funny but kept it a secret

. Hates the cold he doesn’t know why but he just dose just the feeling gets him mad. I think it unconsciously reminds him of the mountains he had to climb when he was younger

. Likes different types of tea and Alfred loves it so they he will bring him new tea he finds and sets it on his desk him and Alfred communicate without talking a lot and I think that it’s one of Damian’s favorite things about him

. Damian hates sports don’t get me wrong he’s very active but in different ways he’s likes soccer though or at least puts up with it. Much prefers specific workouts so he knows how they help him

.when you two got together he absolutely trained you and then won’t ever let you get hurt. Almost slips up when you don’t know he’s robin because he’s to touchy and when you back up he’s like “why” and then he relizes oh she doesn’t fucking know me

. Gets flustered when dick makes comments about your relationship because no matter how much he says he hates him he really wants him to like you. Of course dick would never say anything rude but just in general

. Refuses to hear his dads relationship advice ever because his dad is notorious for picking horrible women and not being the best communicator and that is the last thing Damian wants

. Dates to Marry. Hates that dating for fun is normalized if he’s dating you he wants to marry you period and give time he will

. Lets you do his makeup but locks the door one time dick tried to get in and when the door was locked he thought you were doing something else and later Damian get a hilarious talk from dick but refuses to explain why the door was locked

[irisintheafterglow]

the first time you tell opla!zoro that you love him, you're not sober either. (part one here!)

"i just-i just don't know what to do," you sniffle, another wave of emotions leaking through your tired eyes and onto your tear-stained shirt. "i'm so in love with him it makes me physically ill, nami."

"mhmm, i can tell," she replies absentmindedly, taking another sip from her drink in the musty light of the bar.

"nami," you plead, wasted out of your mind with your cheek pressed against the dirty table.

"sweetheart," she replies with the same melodrama, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.

"i'm so sad." your voice breaks on the last word and you make a loud hiccup-like noise that has the other guests of the bar eyeing you warily. you couldn't guess how long it'd been since you dragged nami from her hammock to go drink your sorrows away. to her credit, she stayed with you until her patience was thinner than a paper cut.

"i know you are," she says slowly after you'd gone over the same topic about four times in the last five minutes. "look, i feel like you should just tell him. he already told you his feelings."

"see, but that's the thing." she shoots you a skeptical look and you sigh back at her. "what if he's lying? or if he didn't actually mean it?"

"why would he lie about something so significant as that?"

"i don't know, maybe he thought i was someone else-"

"from what you've very thoroughly informed me, he expressed his feelings for you, and only you," she reminds you, tilting her glass toward you for emphasis. her gaze flicks up behind you and she raises her eyebrows briefly, like whoever was approaching was another tool for her entertainment. "tell him. it's now or never."

"what the hell do you-"

"you're out of your mind if you think it's okay to get them drunk before a mission." his voice immediately sobers you, white-hot shame coursing through your veins as you sit up and try to make yourself look presentable. thankfully, he's glaring daggers into nami, who merely shrugs and offers something about being here for a good time, not a long time. "c'mon, i'm taking you back to the ship," he mutters, lifting you from your seat and letting you grab his unfairly strong bicep for stability.

"why'd you come get me?" your steps wobble slightly on the cobblestone, but zoro's determination to keep you upright is unwavering. "i could have gone home with nami."

"i got worried about where you were. thought something happened."

"nothing happened except alcohol and feelings," you drawl absentmindedly, the airy feeling in your mind becoming fuzzier the longer you're with him.

"ah, two of my favorite things."

"liar, you only talk about your feelings when you're drunk." blinking slowly to recenter yourself, you cut him off before he can counter your accusation. "like, the other night. when you told me you loved me." the words slip out unplanned and his body becomes deathly still next to you, his arm so tense you could mine it with a pickaxe.

"i said...what?"

"that you loved me and that it was a secret," you say plainly, glancing at him to find his face a nearly imperceptible shade of pink. "what's with the blush?"

"it's nothing," he says quietly. sober you would have left the conversation at that, respecting his need for privacy and security about his private feelings.

drunk you, however, has no such manners.

"look at you, all red and shit." his ears become an even deeper shade of pink and you can't help laughing at his poor attempt to hide his embarrassment. "you wouldn't be so flushed if it was actually nothing, so what is it?"

"it's nothing," he restates. "it doesn't matter."

"it matters to me. you matter to me." his face feels like it's been set on fire and every place your body is making contact with his feels like an electric current. did you have any idea what your words were doing to him, he wondered. sure, what you said made his brain go foggy like the island coastline in the morning, but what you made him feel was so much worse. you made him feel so lovesick, it pained him.

"the sentiment is reciprocated," he murmurs low enough that you can barely hear him. even while you're dancing around in the streetlights, you've never looked so beautiful to him.

"can i tell you a secret?" he swallows thickly, unsure of how to continue navigating this situation. he settles for nodding, every movement restrained to keep from kissing you until the only oxygen in his lungs has gone through yours first. "you can't tell anyone, though."

"i'm a great secret keeper."

"no, you're not," you reply instantly and his mouth gapes indignantly. "you told me your biggest secret and you don't even remember it."

"fine. i won't tell anyone what you tell me, then. i don't know about anyone else," he promises. after what seemed like an eternity, he finally helps you into your hammock, taking great care to make sure you don't fall out. "if i do tell someone, you can kick me in the balls."

"enticing offer," you laugh and his mouth quirks in a half-smile that you only saw once in a blue moon.

"so, the secret?"

"oh, right," you whisper sleepily. "the secret is that i love you too. i love you so much that i want to throw up."

"i think that might be the alcohol, doll," he murmurs, his fingers gently brushing your cheek. "sober you and sober me need to have a long talk in the morning."

"we said that last time but didn't do shit about it."

"well, i think it's time i did something about it." your eyebrows furrow, completely forgetting anything you'd just talked about. it's okay, he figures. he'll show you how much you mean to him when you're both ready.

"did something about what?"

"how much i love you, too."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[uranometrias]

wait for your love, spencer reid (pt. 2)

this is the second part to this. tysm for all the love on the first part, as well as all the new follows. this literally took so long, and i'm literally so sorry. i suck, but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. xx

you can read the alternate version for jj right here.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: following the dismissal of the case against the bureau, you're trying to get back into the swing of things. that moment of realization that comes with discovering the love you feel for someone else isn't reciprocates is never fun. but it's a truth you're meant to accept nonetheless, with a bit of help from your dearest friend spencer, you find that through a conversation about the realities of music and their hidden messages getting the courage to move on is not quite as difficult as you might have initially thought. especially when there's someone like spencer reid waiting on the other side. except of course, things always get difficult when it seems now as you're moving on, the past object of your desires is believed to feel the same way you always have.

content warnings: this is the sequel to angst lol. it's still very kind of angsty, but not as bad! it doesn't exactly end with spence/reader running off into the distance together, but i think it has a very bittersweet & sort of hopeful ending, which i felt made the most sense for a storyline like this. sometimes people have feelings for people that don't like them back, and sometimes it's just something we have to deal with.. sad but true. && i didn't want spence to seem like a rebound for reader, so i tried to go the route of her slowly putting the pieces together that maybe spence had romantic feelings for her && going from there. still spencer somewhat confesses his feelings for reader, hints that hotch might actually like reader, jj/reader reconciliation, because it needed to happen soz! she might have feelings for y/n too idk... she's kinda pulling everybody. this feels kinda melodramatic, but also idk i want epic romance vibes so i tried my best xx

i also love how hotch was such a focal part of this story and never physically showed up once... hmm.

tagged the people that asked for part 2 xx

@stvrlitsky , @cocopuff213 , @aaronhotchnerlover , @ofagathachristies , @blurpleuni-squid , @wolf-phoenix-lover , @babyspiderling , @queermaxwooo , @jihyowrrld , @minkyungseokie , @silentjudger , @btskzfav , @barbeddreams , @ah-blossom , @darker-december

It had been about a week since the court proceedings, you'd been more than a little surprised to find that you all managed to walk away scot free. You still hadn't managed to work up the courage to place your resignation papers on Hotch's desk, probably because you still hadn't gotten up the strength to face him or anyone else for that matter. You weren't outwardly abrasive, you'd offer small nods of greeting when you showed up in the morning, waves as you left.

But everyone knew that it wasn't the same.

Penelope had been trying to get you out for a night of bonding with her, Emily, and JJ, and you'd been keen on turning her down. You don't think you were quite there yet, the wound however surface level was still fresh. Looking at Emily, only reminded you of your grief, how much you had missed her. Looking at JJ only reminded you of how she hadn't had the courage necessary to tell you the truth. You'd tried to take their positions into account, look at things through a different view, but it hardly worked. You just wanted to be left alone.

Spencer was still the only one privy to the thoughts you had about ending your career at the FBI, and everyday he seemed to be holding his breath. It had become a habit to catch him staring at you with his face pinched up like he was deep in thought. It was partially why, even as your eyes skimmed over a file, you knew that he was looking in your direction. "Spence." you mutter quietly, eyes not quite meeting his as you highlighted something of importance in blue.

He sits at attention, back straight, eyes wide. He looked like a puppy that'd been caught doing something bad and was waiting for punishment. "You're doing it again." you exhale, and then you finally manage to peel your eyes from your work, eyebrow raising as you take him in tiredly. "Do you need something?" and he bares down on his bottom lip, almost as if he was thinking over his next move. He stands tall, grabbing hold of his chair and tugging it until it was planted on the other side of yours, before he sat down politely.

"Are you okay?" he's talking quietly, likely to salvage a bit of your privacy. You'd become a bit of a walking attraction in the bullpen, everyone seemed to follow every one of your actions with their eyes. You tap your highlighter against your desk, head tipping to the side as you scrutinize the man. You didn't know exactly what was going on with Spencer, but you had a small inkling, it was nothing more than an internal feeling if you were completely honest about it.

Your sister had been asking about him quite constantly lately, and after learning that day in the courtroom that for some odd reason the duo spoke over the phone, it made you pay a bit more attention to the certified genius than before. "I'm fine, Spencer. Just like I was when you asked me yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that." you keep your tone light, not wanting him to think that you were by any means annoyed with him. "What's going on?"

"I guess I keep waiting for you to disappear." he admits, head nodding involuntarily. "You're here right now, and you look fine." he continues, and you like listening to him, even if he was breaking one of the rules, and choosing to profile you. "So shouldn't things feel different? Better at least, like before?" he asks, and you don't expect that. Maybe he wasn't profiling you at all, and instead was expressing himself to a friend. "At least a little bit?" he asks, and you think it over.

"I don't think it'll ever be like before, Spence." and you hate to be the Betty Buzzkill, but it's as true as you can be. "How can it?" and Spencer's eyes jump across the room, landing on Emily who was not so subtly watching the two of you speak. You follow his gaze, and blink harshly when Emily's eyes connect with your own. It forces you to look right back at Spencer. He looks pensive, and you wonder how long he's been working up the courage to say more than 'Are you alright?'

"She was dead... and now suddenly she's not. That's great, but I grieved my friend, and maybe I'm not done grieving the Emily I knew before." and it's the first time you're admitting this aloud. "Our Emily, not the- Interpol Superspy." and you huff. "And look, I know I should be grateful, how many people get back the people they love after death?" and Spencer doesn't answer. "But is she really back? Is she really still our Emily? And how long before she's ready to pack up her stuff and take off? I'm not opening myself up to that again."

Spencer thinks your point is valid, he at one point had insisted that he had the worse abandonment issues on the team, but you had been right there through most of it. You were, in your own way protecting yourself from being hurt again. He couldn't fault you for that, none of them should. "I understand." and truthfully he does, and he's glad that at least you trust him enough to be upfront about it. "There's nothing wrong with shielding yourself from heartache, I just don't want you to close off completely... not from all of us."

You falter, and Spencer hates that he can't just say that he doesn't want you to close off from him. He didn't want this situation to change the way you behaved with him, he couldn't handle losing you.

"I won't." you promise. "And I won't do anything to jeopardize what we do here, I've got enough self control to be civil." you add with a small smile. "I haven't quite decided what a future at the bureau will look like, but I am willing to give things here a chance to get better." and you do love your work, Profiling was something you enjoyed doing, you wouldn't toss it away, unless you absolutely had no other choice. "So you don't have to worry about losing me, Spence." and you hold your breath, mostly because it's a bit audacious on your part.

He offers you a half smile, and you notice the way he visibly relaxes. Still, he doesn't want you to feel obligated to stay somewhere just for his sake, so he feels the need to be honest with you. "I'm not worried." he promises you, and it's a tiny fib, one that could become true if he grew just a touch more confidence. "Even if you did decide to leave one day I would put in the work to keep you in my life." and his smile stretches across his face now, and reaches his eyes. "You're not someone anyone would want to lose." your stomach twists.

"You're not either, Spencer." and you say it firmly, mainly to show just how much you need him to believe it. "I'd just make it my job to take up all your free time outside of work." and his face feels incessantly warm, like he'd stuck his head directly in the stream of scalding shower water. The funny thing about you was that you were oftentimes one of the hardest on the team to read. He figured that because he spent so much time hyper focused on you that he'd get better at it. He still hadn't, and you still managed to leave him stuck.

Comments like the one you just made were common for you, but the meaning behind it always escaped him. Were you flirting with him or were you just being nice? Was it possible that you knew that he had feelings for you? Were you using him as a rebound after the mess you'd found yourself entangled into with Hotch just months ago? The thought of him merely being an emotional rebound made him sad, disappointed, and insecure. But then he's taking in your expression, how despite your confidence you still look shy, and reels it in.

You had never been that sort of person, maybe you were just as oblivious as he was. "I'd be okay with that now." and you look a bit surprised, but also pleased. You nod your head slightly, leaning forward just a little in your seat. Spencer isn't sure if he's moved too quickly, but he's got no room to second guess it now.

"We should do something." it's not at all what he'd expected you to say, and he's surprised, it's more than evident on his face.

"Who? Us? Just the two of us?" he asks, and you find yourself offering him an amused sort of glance.

"Yeah, it could be fun." you insist, and you're not trying to play with his feelings, at least not in the traditional sense. Spencer Reid was no rebound. "It's not often we have days off, you know?" and you lean against your palm, head tipping slightly to the side. "Only if you want." you add, hoping that this addition would make him feel a touch more comfortable. It seems to work, because he untenses just a bit.

"Y-Yeah." he nods his head slightly, hair moving with the action just slightly. "Yeah, we should definitely do something." he agrees, and your smile is bright, clearly pleased at the turn of events. "When would you?" his eyes jump to his watch, and he shakes his head. "Obviously, not right now." he says and you're staring at him a bit bemused, because Spencer Reid was nothing if not a bit unserious.

"There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and you witness Spencer's eyes seem to brighten. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me to look at some vinyls and cd's for my collection, we could just go-" and you're eyebrows are raised, "And see what happens? There's a lot you could do..." you finish, and Spencer's already nodding his head in agreement.

"T-That's..." and he clears his throat, you think to keep you from acknowledging the fact his voice cracked in his nervousness. "Yeah, I don't mind that at all." he agrees politely. "Did you know that in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, record stores only sold gramophone records, but over time they've sold other formats like eight-track tapes, compact cassettes, and compact discs." his hands curl into one another as he relays this message and you snort.

"Did you know that there's a national record store day? It started back in 2008." and he's a bit surprised that you're shooting him a fact of your own, and one that he wasn't actually aware of.

"Really?" he questions, and your eyes sort of crinkle, smile broadening enough to show off both rows of your teeth.

"Don't tell me that I know something the brilliant Doctor Reid doesn't." you tease, and his eyes roll, though his entire demeanor remains lighthearted. "So, what's your poison?" you sidestep, but just barely, your work ignored as you focus all your efforts on keeping this conversation with Reid going.

"My poison?" and his mind of course drifts to alcohol, a bit of a confusing pivot in the conversation. "I don't really see myself as much of a drinker." he admits truthfully, and he's confused when you're laughing, hand flying up to cover your mouth as his face contorts.

"I meant your favorite music genre." you correct. "And I know you're partial to classical," and you try not to stretch your eyes. "It's great when I need to concentrate, but I wouldn't exactly say I'm dying to put on Bach and Tchaikovsky in a regular setting." you explain, both hands resting against your cheeks as you await the hopefully longwinded answer he'd have to give you.

"What if that's my only answer?" he asks, and you scoff.

"It's not." you deadpan, and he exhales through his nose. "I know you and Morgan have that understanding about music..." you explain, head cocked to the side. "He got you to listen to Nas." you remind him as he purses his lips at the reminder. "And Garcia's always sending music recommendations." you proceed as Spencer shoots you a look that clearly reads 'What's your point?'.

"Are you really telling me that out of every genre of music that's ever been released to the entire world, the only genre that's ever stood out to you is the one where old men sit behind a piano and twinkle the keys to their hearts content?" Spencer's releasing another one of those quiet laughs, this one is clearly full of exasperation though.

"I think they're doing a little bit more than twinkling keys." he corrects you, and you know that. You'd only said it to get under his skin just a little, he was fun to mess with. "Classical music is one of the only genres that seemingly does so little and is able to express the full spectrum of human emotion and life experience." he explains, and you fight your smile, leaning in just a bit more to show you were focused. You weren't sure what was happening or if anything was really happening at all, and it was all in your mind.

But you were finding that you didn't mind just listening to Spencer go on and on about whatever he wanted. You thought a lot about what had happened outside of that court room, how he'd listened to you. Really listened to you, and had never once made you feel like the emotional failure you'd imagined yourself to be. You couldn't say that in the span of a week all of your feelings for Hotch had vanished. That'd be bullshit, because deep down you knew it wasn't that easy.

And sometimes you wished it could be, sometimes you wondered why you had to fall for Hotch when Spencer was right there.

Still, whether or not you were being forced to come to grips with the fact that Hotch was not, and wouldn't ever love you the way you loved him, you couldn't deny that it was nice to have a friend there. Spencer wasn't coming to you with heavy confessions and tear-streaked cheeks begging you to look and see that he was perfect for you, which is why you think you like him even more. You knew a lot of times it was hard, rare even to find someone who would just care for you without expecting anything in return. That was Spence to a T.

"Go on." you instruct, and you find that despite the way you'd baited him into this conversation, it was well worth it. He didn't get a lot of time to just be Spencer, and with no clock over your heads, no rush for time to solve a case, you figured it was the least you could do. Especially after he'd spent the last week trying to show you how much he cared.

"I just mean that in classical music, it's actually very common to have one piece of music encompass an entire host of emotions, experiences, and subject matter." he expresses, and you hum, nodding along. "And it's all because most classical pieces use a similar formula that uses textures, dynamic colors and key modulations to express things certain words can't properly articulate." he proceeds. "That's why certain sounds and notes manage to adduce certain reactions." he seems finished.

"Oh, yeah?" you press and he nods limply, seemingly awaiting the moment you offer some jab regarding his oversharing. "I guess Mozart and Beethoven were really onto something." you mutter, and he snorts. "Still, I'd much rather listen to something a bit more obvious." you admit, not that you had a real problem with Classical Music.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I'm just saying... music's always sort of been the perfect tool for expressing everything you might need to say." you counter. "And while I agree that music in any form does a great job of invoking certain emotions, sometimes you don't want to guess what someone means." you admit, and it's partially (mostly) because you had never been good at reading in between the lines. Things always made the most sense when they were plainly spelled out.

"Or maybe that's just a me thing." you correct. "I've found that I always enjoy things when they're a little more laid out... there's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right?" you ask and Spencer's lips curve down into a slight frown. He's not pitying you, mostly just sympathizing with how torn up you must have been about everything. Especially as your eyes instinctively are drawn to the shut doorway of Hotch's office. Spencer thinks that's when reality sets back in and hits him like a brick.

Because he knew something that you didn't. Something that would probably make everything better for you, but would undoubtedly double his heartache. In truth, he, much like everyone else on the team tried their hardest to ignore just how obvious you'd been about your feelings for hotch. spencer more than anyone.

He remembered how things had changed a few months back, how you'd started to move on all for the rug to be pulled from up under your feet. It had been outwardly cruel, undoubtedly. because while everyone else on the team seemed to be just fine with 'don't ask, don't tell', Spencer had been unable to not pay attention to the way Hotch had actually changed too. Did he hate him? Absolutely not... and he knew you didn't either, because despite how idiotic the plan was, he hadn't done much besides give you more attention.

And Spencer guessed the act of giving you more attention had unsurprisingly ended with Aaron Hotchner realizing it was something he actually enjoyed. Hence the sudden change their boss underwent.

He supposed that was the worst part about it all, the fact that everyone had the right to tell you that "nothing had happened", and there was nothing you could do about it. Because in the grand scheme of things nothing really had happened. Hotch was no heartless womanizer, Spencer couldn't even imagine the man flirting with anyone, let alone stringing someone along for kicks. Still, that didn't change the fact that you'd gotten your hopes up, and now you were back to your own harsh reality.

Not because it wasn't a real possibility, more so because Hotch was self destructive, and sabotaged himself and his happiness at every turn. Spencer wants to stay quiet, to bask in the fact that you were slowly on your own terms getting over Hotch, and paying more attention to him, but he can't do that. He'd hate it if someone did it to him. So instead he decides to throw you a bone, push you in the right direction. "Why haven't you just talked to him?" it's not what he had meant to say. He had meant to play the role of the supportive friend.

He'd wanted to pat you on the back, mumble some agreeance that would validate how you were feeling, and possibly give him cool points. Instead, here he was about to push you in the direction of someone else. He supposed that's how stupid love made you.

"What?" you exclaim, and Spencer doesn't know what's so exasperating about his question. It was obvious that you needed to, it wasn't fair that you were slowly deteriorating on the inside whilst trying to maintain some semblance of being a "team player". He said 'screw the team' if it wasn't genuine. And clearly, from the way you'd still been icing out JJ and Emily, it wasn't. Not fully anyway. He'd never rush you to get over it, mostly because it'd make him a hypocrite. He still cringes at the thought of the tears he'd shed to JJ.

But, that was his own problem.

"Hotch." he lowers his voice a little, because it's just now hitting him that the two of you have been slacking off for a while now. Emily wasn't exactly focused in on the both of you anymore, but every so often, he'd find that she still look up every few moments. JJ, Derek, and Rossi had made a habit of leaving their respective offices, eyes glued to what was apparently becoming unit news. "You should talk to him." he says simply as your eyes cross dramatically.

"What's there to talk about?" you ask suddenly distracted by a smudge on the corner of your desk.

"What happened." he says simply. "I mean, don't you think there might be some explanation you might be missing?" Spencer tries, and you curl into yourself just a little bit.

"It's still work hours and he's still Hotch." you deny, and Spencer's lips push to the side, an obvious sign of his slight discomfort about what he was going to say next. "He's not going to want to talk about it." you admit. "And what exactly do you say in a conversation like that? Oh by the way boss, I was in love with you, and it kinda felt like maybe you felt the same, except oh wait, it was just a ploy to keep me from realizing you were lying about Emily being alive?" you say sarcastically. Spencer huffs in retaliation.

"Yes actually, you could say exactly that. Maybe you'll learn something you didn't know before." he deadpans, and your nose curls. You cut your eyes over at the man, who's not amused.

"I kinda thought you'd be the last person pushing for this sort of confrontation, you know?' you admit before you can really help yourself. You watch as Spencer's face seems to set into one of surprise, his cheeks and neck slowly gaining a red sort of tint to them.

"What do you mean?" he questions, and your mouth parts just slightly. And you think the same way he's been gentle with you is the exact same way you need to be gentle with him, so you pivot, head shaking from side to side.

"Nothing." you say firmly. "Forget about it." you say quietly, and then you're looking back at your paperwork. Spencer, embarrassed finds himself fiddling with his fingers, trying to scold his heartbeat back into submission. It suddenly felt way too cramped sitting at your desk.

"You should go after work." he says, and your eyes snap back to him. "Talk to Hotch after work, I mean." he says and your stomach feels a bit tight. "I think it'll be best." he proceeds, and you frown.

"You do?" you question, and you try not to sound despondent.

"Y-Yeah, I do." he agrees despite his stutter. "Things like this don't go away on their own, you know?" and you chew on the inside of your lip, and feel that gloom cloud from earlier making its way back.

"I thought we were supposed to be hanging out today, Spencer." you start and he blinks owlishly, long lashes nearly caressing the tops of his cheekbones.

"We could always raincheck." he says, and you stare at him just a bit blankly. "It's not like it was a date or anything. They were just plans..." he adds, and your teeth chomp down on your bottom lip. He doesn't really know how to read the look on your face, but he knows that he feels like he's being noble.

"Just plans." you shrug your shoulders dismissively. "Right." and then you pick up your pen. "Well if that's what you want, I guess it's fine by me." you add, body curling into itself as you position yourself away from him.

"Isn't that what you want?" he questions, and you cut your eyes.

"Do you think I'd be sitting here if it was?" you keep your voice level, but your leg is bouncing. You're not quite sure why, maybe because Spencer was being Spencer. You supposed your comment that made it clear that you knew that he had feelings for you had scared him. Now, he was trying to protect himself, but you weren't so hungry for a relationship that you'd string him along for the sole purpose of getting over Hotch. You would've made this call had you figured it out or not, and you supposed the fact he didn't get that was what sucked. "I'm not that pathetic." you add with a quiet scoff.

"It's not about you being pathetic." he denies. "I don't think that about you., I just know that you're in a vulnerable place. You had real feelings for him, and I think it'd be best for you to get it all off your chest correctly, before you start projecting all those leftover feelings to the first person you can." and he doesn't mean it in the way it sounds. In fact the statistics about rebounds would sound a lot worse, but as usual, he's horrible at communicating exactly what he feels.

You blink. Once, twice, three times.

"I can't believe you just said that to me." you say, and you're abruptly standing up, mostly because you're about to cry like the fucking baby you were. Spencer's certain this is a new record for how quickly things could go left just because he couldn't shut the hell up. What he'd been trying to convey was that after a rejection, it was much easier to mistake platonic feelings for romantic ones. He had been a consistent shoulder for you to lean on since everything went south.

He didn't want you to think that he was being nice to you only because he had feelings for you, and convince yourself that you felt the same all because you refused to fully shut the door with Hotch. But he'd never actually meant to make it seem like you'd be so desperate, and especially not with him. "Y/N, wait. That's not what I meant-" except you're already leaving, taking in the shaky breath that told him he'd stupidly made you cry.

"L/N?" Emily's calling as you pass her, but you don't respond to her either. Instead you're rushing off in the direction of the bathroom, likely to calm yourself down. Emily's eyes are immediately snapping over to Spencer, and her eyebrows are furrowed. He instinctively looks away, internally cursing himself out.

────────────────────────

"Y/N/N?" you're surprised to hear JJ entering the bathroom, and you're hurriedly moving to splash at your face with water to keep it from looking so puffy. Still, JJ was as perceptive as she was pushy, so it's clear she's already put it together that you're crying. "Hey, is everything alright?" she takes on that motherly tone she uses with Henry, and the rest of the team when they're feeling down.

"I'm fine." you insist, and she doesn't look convinced. She takes a tentative step towards you, standing beside the sink you were occupying. "Seriously JJ, please just leave me alone." you partially beg.

"I know you're upset with me, but you're still my friend." she reminds you. "I'm not going to leave you in here when it's clear you're upset." she exclaims. "So you can talk to me or not, but I'm not going anywhere." she deadpans, and you sniffle, rubbing harshly at your cheeks. They're sensitive to the action, blood rushing to your face.

"You're so annoying." you mumble, but there's no bite. It makes JJ snicker, and it's a step in the right direction you're sure.

"It's my job." she retorts with a shrug, and she leans her back against the sink beside you, legs crossing slightly. "Is everything okay?" she tries again, much more gently as you frown. No, everything was not okay. You hadn't actually expected to be sitting here crying over Spencer's remark, but you supposed that the fact he believed you'd ever use him as a rebound had kind of hurt. You supposed it also didn't help that he'd so callously canceled your plans.

You'd actually started to look forward to hanging out with him.

"Do you think I'm desperate?" you question haughtily, and JJ's eyes widen, surprise overtaking her features as she turns to you fully.

"Of course not." she denies firmly, blonde ponytail bobbing with all her intense animation. "What would make you think that?" she pries, and you cut your eyes just slightly.

"You guys could have trusted me with the truth." you counter, and she falls silent. "And even if you couldn't there were so many other ways to keep me from finding out about Emily. Ways that didn't involve making me look like an idiot to the rest of the team." you mumble crossly, and you blink enough that you feel like your lashes are crumpling into your cornea. it forces you to drag a hand over them roughly, rubbing harshly at your eyes until the sensation left.

"That wasn't what we were trying to do." JJ tries, and it doesn't really matter what exactly she was trying to do. What mattered was what had happened. "You know that." she adds, and you think she's trying to appeal to the part of you that knew the type of people she and Hotch were. The ones that had proven their loyalty to the team for years and years. "Is this about Hotch?" she says and you wince because the problem wasn't that simple.

And you didn't understand why everyone seemed to think so.

You weren't some girl that couldn't handle rejection, what bothered you the most was that Hotch and JJ had felt like they couldn't trust you, and it bothered you that Hotch had felt like he had to play along to some stupid fantasy to ensure you'd play your role. And it especially bothered you that you'd mourned your friend Emily and everything you thought you knew about her, and all anyone could focus on was the fact that you liked Hotch and he didn't like you back. As if your entire world stopped all because of it.

"No, it's not about Hotch." you deadpan. "I wish you guys would just stop being so casual about it." you add on as JJ's mouth parts.

"Y/N... it's not really something that you'd ever really been subtle about. Everyone knows." and she's still trying to be gentle, despite the fact that the words still managed to slice at you.

"So that makes what you guys did, okay?" you shoot back. "Is that really the hill you want to die on?" and you're growing crosser. "This isn't about not being liked back by a guy, this is about me believing that the people I spend most of my days with have my back. How are we supposed to be a team when I can't trust you?" you press. "Because you never would have done that to Spence." you add, and JJ blinks, mostly because she doesn't know how to counter that.

"You didn't have to do it to Derek or Rossi or Penelope either." you remind her. "So what was it about me, about this that made your only course of action rubbing salt in a wound that I was doing a damn good job of healing all on my own?"

"I-I don't know." she admits, and you suppose it was an answer.

"Yeah, well I don't know if I have the patience to wait around for you all to figure that out." you mumble.

"What are you saying?" and JJ's blinking a bit more, eyes misty but not quite showing any signs of shed tears.

"I'm saying that before I didn't know if I wanted to stay here anymore. I love my job, but I don't love how it makes me feel now." you say plainly. "When Elle got like that and ignored her gut it got someone shot." you say, and it sounds melodramatic, but it doesn't feel that way at all. JJ gasps, though it's faint. "I just don't want to wait around for that to happen to me." and you inhale sharply, shuddered breath wracking through you as JJ stares at you clearly gobsmacked.

"But-" and she can't quite grasp the words. "You can't just leave." she exclaims, and it sounds like she's pleading. "Look-" and she's starting to sound just a little desperate. "Look we never wanted to hurt you, okay? And-and none of us..." and she stops to make sure she's staring you directly in your eyes. "None of us want to lose you, Y/N." she insists. "I-" and she's shaking her head again. "Please don't do this." and she sounds the same way Spencer did when he said it. Your nose twitches, "We just got the team back together." she mutters.

"JJ, that's not fair." you huff at her, and she's not really trying to be fair. She just doesn't want you to leave.

"I'm so sorry that we hurt you." and while most apologies that start that way are usually rife with deceit, JJ sounds more sincere than she probably ever has before. "And I'm sorry if it feels a little flat, especially with you already having a foot out the door." she sighs, "It wasn't okay, but-but I know how Hotch feels about you. How the entire team feels about you." she reiterates. "We can't do this without you, we can't." she emphasizes sternly. "And maybe that's selfish to bring up, but we all care so much about you." she promises.

You want to cut her off, but she doesn't give you the chance.

Classic JJ.

"Do whatever you need to! Take as much time away as you need, hate us forever if you have to, but please don't- don't walk away from what you do here." she exhales shakily. "And-and for the record, whether it helps or not... we didn't sit around discussing your... feelings for Hotch." she tells you quietly. "It wasn't some master plan that we composed, and-and I don't know... it couldn't have all been fake." she whispers, and you wonder why she's changing her tune, because just last week she was telling you that 'it wasn't real'

"JJ-" you finally manage and she's shaking her head.

"I'm serious." she insists, and your nose crinkles up again.

"Stop." you deadpan. "You're being really mean." you huff, and you begin to click at your nails just slightly. JJ thinks you're a little bit exasperating. Too stubborn for your own good, but she wont push.

"Could you just listen for one second?" she exclaims, and you're pouting as she grows more overwhelmed at it all. "I wouldn't lie to you about this." she insists, and you wonder why she, and Spencer have taken this sort of stance with you. It should make you hopeful, right? Oh, there was some chance that Hotch felt the same way as you. Except you can't be happy about it, because he's not the one that was sitting here telling you this. It was JJ.

What had you told Spencer earlier? 'There's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right', and emotionally exhausted or not, you meant it. Which meant you refused to do the work for him. If he couldn't say it, if he couldn't admit it, than it was as if it wasn't true at all. Which is why you exhale, blinking away whatever bleariness tried to keep itself latched to your eyes. "I love you for trying so hard, but I'd rather you didn't." you instruct sternly.

JJ inhales deeply, audibly expelling the breath from her nose. "That's what you're missing, Y/N." she begins, and she reaches out, hand cupping your shoulder. "I'm not trying to do anything. Everything I've said today I meant. You're important, and you're a lot to lose." she admits. "If you're going to leave, leave because you hate the job, do it because you don't feel fulfilled any longer. But don't let this be what makes you throw in the towel, Y/N." she says and you huff again.

You were doing a lot of that today. "We'll make up for it." she begins, and then she sighs. "I'll make up for it, however long it takes." and you think her pivot from sharing the blame to taking it all for herself makes you feel a little less like you were being ganged up on. She was no longer the spokesperson for everyone involved, and was back to just being JJ, your friend JJ. "Please?" she tries again, and it's not like her to beg, which tells you all you need to know about how serious she was.

"We should get back to work." you mumble, and it's not quite the answer she's expecting, but at the very least it was a promise that you both still had until the end of the day at the very least. She doesn't have the strength to fight her smile, arms looping around you in a move that's much too invasive for your still sour mood, but you don't slight her for it. You instead let her hug you, because obviously it meant a lot more to her than you knew. She'd missed you.

"Alright, alright. That's enough." you tease, moving to lightly push the blonde off of you as she exhales.

"Can you blame me? I thought you were gonna hate me forever." she admits honestly, and you crinkle your nose.

"Guess I'm softer than I thought." you reply, and she waves you off at the remark. Still, despite this slight turn in the direction of your relationship with JJ, you still couldn't feel all that settled. But, you know hiding out in the restroom was by no means the best choice. So when JJ moves to leave, you tail her, surprised when on the other side is a nearly pacing Reid.

"Spence?" JJ exclaims in surprise, the tawny haired man turns to you both. He's immediately looking past JJ to take you in. JJ follows hos gaze and whistles under her breath, deciding that her job was done. She offers you a hopeful sort of look before she continues on towards her desk, leaving you and Spencer mostly alone.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and you're subjectively alright, for the moment. You're better than you were, but not as good as you could be. You're not anywhere near where or who you were before, but you suppose after what the team endured there wasn't much that could be done about that last bit. "I'm so sorry." he's exclaiming, and of course, he means it. He always means it. "I didn't mean to-" and he doesn't really know how to articulate all his thoughts correctly.

He's good with words, knows facts and statistics and data, knows what runs through his mind when he thinks about you, and knows what he wants to say. It's when he opens his mouth that things go awry, because despite all his grand attempts, he always manages to screw up when it came to expressing the emotional side of things. His pep talks sometimes fell flat, and a lot of times he missed the mark when it came to cheering someone up. But, he'd never wanted to be a person who hurt you, so he needed to fix it.

Even if it ruined everything forever.

"I wasn't trying to insinuate that you'd-" and he motions between the both of you. "I don't think that you see me as a rebound." he finally vocalizes. "That would mean you'd have to see me in a potentially romantic way." Spencer's voice is as steady as it often was when he was giving a geographical profile or helping to relay some form of fact or evidence during a case. Which said a lot about his intentions, and how serious he was about you not misunderstanding him.

"I was merely trying to note that a lot of times in circumstances where we're faced rejection from someone we hold to a high regard, it's really easy to misinterpret our own feelings and latch onto people before we really mean to." he expresses, and your chewing on the inside of your cheek, albeit subtly. "For example, because you've established me as someone who you can trust during this time, it'd be really easy for you to misinterpret what you think you feel for me." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inwardly.

"How could I possibly do that? They're my own feelings." you retort.

"Because, the first thing people do after a breakup, is they seek validation, or a new way to boost their esteem and self worth." he doesn't quite lecture, but it's clear he's intent on your knowing all of this. "And that doesn't necessarily mean that you're vying for me as a potential person to bounce back with, but a lot of times when you don't process the end of a previous emotional bond, your view of the entire new dynamic can be warped." he proceeds, and you're still not really understanding his point, instead you're feeling more silly.

"What are you saying, Spencer?" you question quietly.

"All I'm trying to explain is that I don't want you to tell me that you want to go out and listen to me promenade facts unless it's what you really want to do." he says, "I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to play along, because you think we're in the same boat... where we- we love someone that we can't have?" he presses, and he winces once it's out, you think you may have started holding your breath. "Does that make sense to you?"

You nod your head limply, and you take in his words. You find that your little hunch about your dear Spencer was correct. You also note that it doesn't quite scare you the way you'd initially believed it would. "Spence, I wouldn't do that to you." you remind him, and he nods too.

"I know that." he promises. "At least not consciously, but our minds can play tricks on us. You could think that this is what's best, moving on... forgetting about- about everything that happened." he presses, and your lips form into a thin line. "And then wake up in three weeks and remember why you fell in love with Hotch to begin with."

"Or-" and his eyes widen.

"Or?"

"Or...I could choose to stop waiting around for someone to not be afraid to love me." you counter. "I could- I could choose to hang out with my friend, Spencer and be okay with whatever happens after that. I could- We could do that. And it could be okay." you purse your lips. "Because, it's what I want to do. Nobody's entitled to my feelings but me, and you know what that means, Spencer? It means that if you think that you might love me, you need to be okay with that." he looks a bit startled that you're saying it so bluntly, but stays quiet.

"And you need to know that sometimes your statistics are gonna be wrong, and sometimes the guy that's too scared to admit how they feel doesn't get the girl." it's a shock, you can't say that you've fallen out of love in a day, you can't say that you've fallen in love in a day. But you do know that Spencer Reid managed to invoke a hope inside of you that you hadn't managed to feel in a long time. He made you girlishly giddy, and you liked talking to him, you liked listening to him, you liked the way it felt when you'd made plans together.

And maybe there was no such thing as a happily ever after where everyone gets who they want, maybe in three weeks you would wake up and find that you and Spencer were better off as friends, but you weren't going to hold up your life in the hopes that maybe someday Aaron Hotchner would wake up and decide he was finally ready to love you out loud. Not when there was a chance to take your own life, your own emotions by the balls and do with them what you wanted.

"He doesn't?" Spencer asks, and you're not quite sure you can place what emotions are resting on his face and in his eyes.

"We can find out." you offer, and it's not some heady and heavy declaration of unyielding devotion, but wasn't that sort of how every relationship started? With some decision to take a chance. Maybe, you didn't really know. "There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and for the second time that day Spencer seems to brighten right in front of your eyes. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me... there's a lot we could do…" and the small change is almost everything. It's scary, causes a pit in your gut.

Still, it's a nicer feeling than uncertainty and the hollowness left behind by idleness. "Are you in?" you ask, and Spencer is already nodding his head, smile reaching his eyes as his pretty teeth reveal themselves to you, eyes twinkling in a way that's very very beautiful.

"Yes." he agrees with a simple nod. "I would-" and you think it's cute the way his smile refuses to leave, and sweet the way he's suddenly grown nervous all over again. "I'd like that-" and his voice cracks, and earns him a laugh, your own demeanor seeming to change as your excitement starts to brew in the depths of your chest.

"Good." you beam.

"Good." he repeats, and there's a small moment, a flicker where you're certain you both look nervous, frightful of what came next. But it only lasts a second, because you're both suddenly being called by Derek, a resounding 'Pretty Boy, Pretty Girl' forcing you out of your bubble and back into the fray. With another shared smile you find yourselves in step, making your way back towards the heart of the bullpen where the rest of the team is huddled. It's rare when work is so light, but you know as well as everyone else, you'll all take advantage of it.

When Penelope smiles at you, you smile back, and it's real.

When JJ plants herself on top of your desk, the two of you actually laugh, spilling secrets and trading gossip like nothing's ever changed.

When Rossi calls you Piccola, you relax even more into the familiarity of being surrounded by your teammates.

When Derek slings an arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss to the top of your head, you remember why you loved your job.

When Emily calls your name and waves you and JJ over to the group, you oblige, meeting Emily's eyes with no mirth left behind. When she calls you by your nickname, you feel that familiar swarm of familial adoration filling your chest, and recognize that things with her would be okay. You find that in the grand scheme she is still your Emily.

When you find yourself standing next to your boss, his usually stern and stoic persona shed in the presence of the team he considered family, you hardly bat an eye. When he smiles at a joke you make, you're pleased, but the anxiety, the panic that tormented you is all gone. The butterflies are too, replaced with the respect you remember.

And when you find yourself looking across the circle and meet the pretty brown eyes of one Spencer Reid, you feel it when your heart tremors, just a little bit.

And you think, in the end, you made the right decision.

[andersonfilms]

ಣ՞˚.┊ TWO LOVERS & AN OAK TREE

feat. duchess!abby x princess!reader

warnings. none really, this is a pure fluff fest with minimial angst splashed in the beginning, bad writing probably.

summary. caught in the quarrels of desires and duty, the aging duchess finds herself trapped in a craving she's sure cannot be satiatied, not until she has you.

duchess!abby who is known as the pariah of new york society. as much as her father tells her it doesn't bother him, she knows on some level it has too. it's silly to think it's only due to the fact of pursuing what she likes. at times, it drowns her, knowing she can't just be a bystander, but she tries to do it quietly. because of who her father is, abby's brother, her — all of it is inescapable. stupidly, they judged solely because she much rather preferred the women in tightened baby blue corsets and intricate ballgowns than the balding men with receding hairlines looking for their wives to take care of them, rather than searching for genuine connection. it didn’t really matter much anyways, abby would never want the life her father dreamed for her, kind man or not. she’d never want them the same way they pine after her. even if it was just a title they chased, but abby always thought it was more. every single candidate wanted to be the one to change her, break her into submission, be the one who reforms her from being a dyke.

duchess!abby who only gets by on her family name, a constant reminder her brother likes to make. it burns every time he says the world will never be ready for someone like you. there's time where abby starts to truly believe him. it's when she drowned her weight in bourbon, trying to forgot how much she hates herself for not being able to love a man, marry a man, swallow her personal desires and just give her father what he craves. but she can’t. she’ll never be able to, no matter how much shame it brings her family.

duchess!abby who doesn’t think much of it when her father tells her they’ll be hosting two siblings who unexpectedly lost both of their parents. she decides to make herself scarce when they arrive, abby doesn’t need the reminder of the grief she once felt. abby keeps herself busy in the study, tends to her required responsibilities. she hides, arguably what she’s best at.

duchess!abby who physically becomes aware of your presence when she faces you for the first time. abby had watched you from a distance but it’s precisely where it came to a halt. even if she knew it wasn’t the best idea, she couldn’t help herself. watching through precarious windows, slumped against a tree as your voice managed to pull her from a lively read, passing the hall and stopping to watch as her own brother, jackson, attempts to flirt but your eyes catch hers and abby would scurry in a blink of an eye. it’s the closest circumstance she could be with you. especially with her family after your title, but jackson seems to be positively smitten with you. he likes to think it was written in the stars, the two of you were fated or at least to him. the duke and the princess has a fine ring to it and their father had been a dog with a bone, pushing with a certain ending in sight. 

duchess!abby who is shocked to see you walk away from the her brother, who is clearly frustrated as you leave him alone by the front doors with your back turned. abby lets her eyes leave you. she has to. nothing good ever comes from tripping over women who she can’t have. you can never be hers, even if her idiot of a brother wasn’t involved, she couldn’t be with you in the way she wishes for. 

duchess!abby who tries greatly to keep away from you, but you do no such thing. you meet her next to the fountain in the garden abby finds solace in. you’re not speaking as you inch closer and closer to her, the tumbling feeling reels abby towards you — certainly doesn’t even seem fair at this point. she tries not to focus on the sweet scent of your body wash. lavender? eucalyptus? both? maybe. you haven’t said two words to her and abby is dying to dive between your thighs, touch your soft skin, kiss your stupidly perfect lips. truly, it’s entirely pathetic how quickly you turn her into a hormonal teenager, but it isn’t the case. not anymore. it flows through her bloodstream, crawling it’s way into her heart, itching for one taste of you. abby has to remind herself you can’t possible feel the same. a princess, it’s what you are, a beautiful, breathtaking royal who will find her match. if you knew the desire to take over her very essence, you’d be disgusted by her.

duchess!abby who can feel your eyes on looking up, trying to get her attention, but she knows once you have it she’ll never be able to let go. so, she takes another swing of the bourbon hoping the burn will ease the unsettling thought of you with her brother. it won’t but the thought it might could be comforting.

duchess!abby who tries to hide the strong-willed smile tempting to worm it’s way, your voice coaxing it out like a vixen. it’s natural the way you talk to her, like you’ve done it a thousand times before, going in explicit detail about her day. you make some stupid joke, it’s so dumb, but abby laughs. you smile, feeling like it’s a reward to receive just an ounce of her attention. she’s stubborn, difficult — but she’s different. anyone looking at her would tell you she’s different, but you can’t help but admire the way she looks in a white button up, underneath her black vest. she really isn’t anything a duchess should be, she presents herself more like a duke, but you’re so intrigued by her. so, you’re saying stupid jokes, once the first one rolls, you can’t stop.

duchess!abby who lets you get close to her after the first nights the two of you talked. you start meeting abby every day in the garden. you open to her about everything, trusting her almost immediately. she offers to take you on walks, the first three walks were platonic. conservatively, her hands held behind a strong back afraid her touch might burn you. abby’s built a strong wall around her, specifically catered to keep others out. day by day, her resolve slowly seemed to wither away the more time she spent with you.

duchess!abby who realizes just how much she cares about you when she lets you set in front of her, abby’s back resting against her favorite tree with you nestled warmly between her thighs. she takes note how your body slumps, your corset gone for the nightly rendezvous. abby lets her big hands roam your plush stomach, your slip is made of silk and it’s soft to touch. she can feel the way your body twitches as her thumbs rub delicate circles at your hips. you hum her name quietly, as if it’s supposed to help abby. everyone else, the women who had shown their interest are nothing compared to you. meaningless night caps to make her feel less lonely, but you? she’s starting to wonder if she is falling, hopelessly and abundantly, in love with you.

duchess!abby who doesn’t take the opportunity to kiss you then. she thinks about it constantly. irrevocably imprinted on her mind, she plays over your smile, the way you press impossibly close to her body, your delicate hands never leaving her thick thighs. abby over plays the way you hum her name sweetly send shivers through her her spine.

duchess!abby who doesn't think it's possible she'll over get over how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a slip abby hasn’t seen before, there’s a slit so high, abby sees stars. cerulean, blues get lost as she scans over your body. your skin look angelic as the moonlight bathed your skin, complexion practically glows from within. abby knows she won’t be able to control herself any longer. being with you will break her in half, might shatter her family, it will completely dissipate her reputation and yours, but a life knowing you seems all the more dreadful.

she can't take her eyes off you, as you carefully undo her dirty blonde locks. she lets you, and you love it. yearn for it more than you can handle, but you welcome the comforting feeling more than you can expect.

abby gazes at you fondly, lost in the feeling of loss, beauty, acceptance even lingering as she feels the warmth beneath her fingertips. she wonders if there is any light left in her to reach you and will it be enough? the duchess isn’t not sure but she accepts these moments as is.

“you’re distracting me.” you admit, thumb grazing over abby’s chin, her eyes lost in wonder as her eyes find you.

she blushes. you try not to let it inflate your head.

“how so?” she tilts her head, your grip firm, as her soft lips pout at you. as if she’s innocent by any means.

yeah. right.

it’s been a game of cat and mouse between the two of you. achingly, you don’t want to give in, but there’s no self-control to be found. not really, no anymore. tediously, as each week passes, you find yourself here every night, sitting on her comfortable thighs underneath the righteous protection of the oak tree.  

“i must go before i am missed. you should do the same.”

carefully, you motion to move your body away from her, but strong palms press against your lower back, the night gown thin enough you can feel her warmth. abby lunges you forward, there’s hardly any space left, your lips ghost over hers, taunting you as she teases. 

“i should do something, that much i am sure of.” abby declares as a confused gaze becomes you. 

“i need to—” abby halts, words failing her mind as she soothingly rubs your cheek, the pad of her thumb rubs circles over the smooth surface. 

“do what?” your own voice fails you as it shakes along with your trembling body, anticipation building, high enough for unsettling nerves to surface. achingly, her breath overwhelms your lips, your senses even. 

then there’s an omission, a secret you’ve also held in your heart, one that’s been as evident as the shine of the sun. the one you hope she felt too and now? you know for certain.  

“what i should have done many moons ago.” 

hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think. mwah!

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[irndad]

double vision in a rose blush -s.r.

a/n: first fic in like a year and my first spencer fic! please let me know what you think!

summary: she is the best part of his days, his life, these days, really. the only problem is she never touches him. s/o to @bitesizedgremlin for writing the most adorable touch starved spence fic that got me 🥰

wc: 1.6k

He loves looking at her. 

It feels hedonistic, like drinking a too-expensive wine. Looking at her brings a warmth that spreads all throughout him, like threaded gold embedded in her movements. It’s a lovely kind of ache, how she can bring the most open, the most raw parts of him to the surface. She is captivating, the way she laughs, the way she moves, the slightest intonation of affection she offers him in her tone. 

Tonight, she sits across from him at the team’s favorite bar. She’s wearing a deep emerald green top, the kind of thing that makes her look like something out of a dream. 

It’s not like it shows how much he likes her. He hopes it doesn’t. 

Sure, people tease them. She’s a consultant with their teams, one with a desk right next to his one. He initially thought he’d hate the company, but even on their first meeting, she was relentlessly kind. She had sat next to him, wearing a beautiful periwinkle sweater, and somehow he was talking for far too long about how the original blue pigments were sometimes made from toxic materials and how much modern effort it took to make a sweater that color.

He’d felt a familiar humiliation, the knowledge that a beautiful woman had sat down next to him and offered him kindness, and he’d met her with his own personal brand of anti-charisma.

But she hadn’t interrupted him. In fact, she granted him maybe the most welcoming, kind smile that he’s ever seen in his life.

And she’d asked more about the pigment. 

Spencer- he’d never known the kind of affection she offers so freely. It almost reminds him of Penelope- how open she is, how kind. Objectively, he knows she likes him at least a little bit. He’s a profiler, and he can tell at least that much. 

The hitch is, he’s the only one she doesn’t touch. 

Morgan gets shoulder brushes. Penelope hugs, and he even remembers her once giving Rossi a warm squeeze of her hand. But not him. Even now, she sits across from him after having held Morgan in a long hug of greeting. 

He looks up at her, her pretty fingers wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. She moves with such grace, no matter what the action. The way she tops her head back, how a lovely grin spreads across her face. He’d give anything not to be her exception. To be one of the people she touches. 

“What you thinking there, wonder kid?” She says, and somehow her voice carries across the crowded bar. He thinks he could pick her voice out anywhere.

“Nothing really,” he says back. He never likes the way his voice sounds around her. He wants to be confident, smooth, like Morgan. She leaves him too weak for it. “How are you feeling?”

“I am wondrous, Spencer.” She’s leaning into his space. Her tone is just a little shaky, influenced by the alcohol. He’s near enough to smell the lily-scented perfume she wears, and it’s everything in him not to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’d gotten it for her for Christmas. 

He remembers her reaction to it, unwrapping the bow and wrapping he’d sent an hour trying to make perfect. It was one of the few times she touched him, however brief- a squeeze of his hand and that earnestly grateful look- the image kept him warm all year. She’d worn it to work more often than not. It brought him a shameful sense of satisfaction. 

She carries me with her. She has a piece of me with her wherever she goes. 

I want to be touched by you, he thinks, I want to be the one doing the touching. What is it about him? He knows his limbs are a little spindle-y, and he’s not exactly experienced in most forms of physical expression. But he could be, if he was given the chance. If it was with her. It’s not something he could say, though.

“You look lovely,” he says, unprompted. “I love that shirt on you.”

She flushes, and almost, almost, touches his knee in thanks. He preens at the praise, even though it’s not verbal. She’s just so beautiful. It’s always been about more than beauty for him, the mind behind the doe eyes and sweet smile. 

Still, it’s hard to deny how much of an effect she has on him- how she can glance at him with that honey sweet look, how the red on her lips has him wondering what it would taste like. If there could ever be anything better. Without thinking, he grabs one of her hands; it looks just so pretty in his own. He runs his thumb over her knuckles. It’s like electricity, passing through them. 

There has to be something he’s done. There has to be, if she touches everyone but him. He always notices, but tonight, with liquor and courage in his chest, he wants to ask. If he knows, if there’s something- maybe he can fix it. Maybe then she’ll put her pretty hands on him just like this. Touch him in any way she wants.

It wouldn’t be close to what he wants. But it would be something. 

“Hey,” his voice comes out uneven and shaky, but his eyes are locked on hers, “I-I’m sorry if I’ve done something.”

Her face blooms into an adorably confused expression. 

“I-,” His stutter jumps out but he’s still holding her hand, and it’s so soft and his stomach just won’t stop that flipping feeling and he just cannot let go, “I know you like to touch people. I don’t know if I-I’ve done something, but you- you never touch me.”

Suddenly, the bar feels a good bit quieter, and her eyes feel like they can see right through him. Her hands are the only thing tethering him here. 

“I don’t touch you?”

“Touch is actually one of the most well-regarded indicators of closeness and geniality in personal relationship.” 

“Spencer-“

“It stands to reason that if you touch everyone but me, there should be a reason and it’s like something that I would have done to offend you.”

“Hey-“

“I just want you to like me.”

Her face, the most beautiful face he’d ever seen- softens into a delicate expression of fondness. 

“Spence,” and god, doesn’t that sound lovely, “I thought you didn’t like touching.”

He pouts without thinking, and all thoughts leave his mind when her other hand reaches out to hold his face, her fingers on the junction of his chin and neck, stroking the side of his cheek.

The truth of it is he thinks of her hands on him in every way. Pictures hands laced together, her graceful fingers running through his hair as they lay on his couch. 

He’s imagined kissing her way too many times.

“Not with you. You’re different.”

He’s too honest. But it’s overwhelming. Her hand in his, the other brushing delicately over his face. He leans into it, a little too eager, but the sensation of it is just too much not to. 

“Remember the second day of me being with the team? You told Garcia she’s the only one allowed to touch you?”

“I think so?”

“Well, I like to repeat your boundaries.”

“I like you to touch me.”

She tips her head back, laughing, and she looks ethereal, the kind of smile gracing her face that’d have you believe everything you’ve every worried about in your god-forsaken life was worth it to witness this. 

“I’d like to touch you too, Reid.”

“You can call me Spencer,” he says, realizing how close they are. Lilies. He’s overplaying his hand. He’s a friend at work, he wants to remind himself. He’s the guy who bought her perfume and hands her files and gets her coffee and that does not mean the same thing as a partner. He’s not even the kind of person someone like her would want.

It’s just hard to remember that. 

“Spencer,” she says, more tender than anyone else had ever been with him., “I could be reading this wrong, but-“

It’s actually a small distance, kissing her. If she’d been more than a few inches from his face then he wouldn’t have done it. But she was so close, and she smiles into him, open and warm and his arms are around her waist, hers cradling his face, and it’s more touch than he knows what to do with, far less than anything he’d be willing to give up. 

It lasts a languid second and then ends too soon, her gorgeous eyes meeting his own, her basically in his lap. He knows that this is basically a bar-kiss between two coworkers, and that it is unlikely to be anything but that, but he kind of needs it to not be. Needs it to be more. 

“I don’t-I don’t know if you wanted to do that or if you want me to stop, but I really, really like you, and I know we work together and you might not like me back, I mean, probably not, right? But-“

“Spencer.” Her soft fingers are still brushing against his face, and he can’t help but be grateful for it. “I’m free tomorrow night.”

He’s not usually good at deciphering social cues that don’t relate to serial killers, but this one- it seems intentional. Her hands move from his cheek (and he winces, visibly) before wrapping both arms around his neck. It’s awfully romantic to be anything else. 

“Do you want to be my plans?” 

“Yes.”