#what ever happened to casual relationships

[inseobts]

TRAITOR pt.1

law x traitor!reader

⤳ PART 2

words count: 2.5k

tags: series, enemies to lover(?), traitor reader

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“You know, you’re not as scary as you pretend to be.”

You lean against the railing of the Polar Tang, the ocean stretching endlessly in front of you. The salty breeze plays with your hair as you glance sideways at Trafalgar Law, whose arms are crossed, golden eyes watching you with something unreadable.

“And you talk too much” he mutters.

You grin “That’s a terrible thing to say to someone who just saved your life.”

Law exhales sharply through his nose, looking away. The recent battle had left him exhausted, and if it weren’t for you stepping in at the last second, things could’ve ended badly for him. You, of course, had taken full advantage of the situation, teasing him ever since.

“I didn’t need saving” he finally says, tone dry.

“Uh-huh.” You tilt your head “That’s why you looked like you were seconds away from getting skewered?”

He glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. If anything, there’s curiosity, like he’s still trying to figure you out. You’re a relatively new member of the Heart Pirates, joining just a few months ago. Skilled in combat, intelligent, and surprisingly resourceful, you had quickly earned the respect of the crew. Even Law, who rarely lets people close, had grown used to your presence.

And maybe, just maybe, something more than that.

It starts small.

Casual conversations late at night when neither of you can sleep. Accidental touches, like his hand brushing against yours when passing a scalpel in the infirmary, his shoulder knocking into yours when standing side by side on the deck. You tease him constantly, and though he pretends to be annoyed, you catch the way the corner of his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile.

Then, one evening, everything shifts.

“You’re staring” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Law, sitting across from you in his dimly lit office, doesn’t deny it. His gaze is steady, analytical, like he’s trying to see through you. It sends a strange thrill through your chest.

“You’re… different” he finally says.

You blink, caught off guard “Different how?”

“I don’t know yet.” His fingers tap against the wooden desk “But I intend to find out.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet intensity that makes your stomach twist. For a second, you almost feel guilty. Almost.

Because if he intends to figure you out, he’s already too late.

Then the first time he kisses you, it’s unexpected.

It happens after a fight, another skirmish with the Marines, another victory for the Heart Pirates. You’re both catching your breath in an alleyway, hidden from sight, when you turn to make some sarcastic remark, only for Law to suddenly grab your wrist and pull you against him.

His lips crash against yours, heated and desperate, like he’s been holding back for too long. And maybe he has.

You don’t hesitate. You kiss him back just as fiercely, fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him impossibly close. The world fades, the sounds of battle disappearing until there’s nothing but him, his warmth, his touch, the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“That was… unexpected” you murmur.

Law smirks, thumb brushing against your lips “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

You laugh softly, leaning into him “Yeah, well. You’re full of surprises, Captain.”

What you don’t say is that he’s making this too easy.

Time passes, and the relationship deepens. Law isn’t the type to be openly affectionate, but you learn to read between the lines. The way he always makes sure you’re patched up first after battles, the way his fingers linger a little longer when he touches you. The way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You spend nights tangled together, whispered conversations in the dark. Sometimes, he tells you about his past, about Flevance, about Corazon, about the scars he carries that no one else can see. And you listen, pretending you’re not keeping secrets of your own.

Because this was never supposed to happen.

You were supposed to get close, gain his trust, gather information for them.

But now, with the way he looks at you, with trust, with something dangerously close to love, you start to wonder if you’ve let him get too close.

And if, when the time comes, you’ll be able to do what you were sent here to do.

You don’t realize how deep you’ve fallen until it’s too late.

It’s in the little things, how your heart beats just a little faster when Law smirks at you, how you find yourself looking for him in a room even when there’s no reason to. How you never pull away when his touch lingers longer than necessary.

You tell yourself it’s part of the act. That getting close to him is necessary, that earning his trust is just a step toward your real goal.

But then there are nights like this.

“You should sleep.”

Law’s voice is quiet, but firm. He’s leaning against the doorframe of the Polar Tang’s infirmary, arms crossed, watching you with a look that’s somewhere between amused and concerned.

You roll your eyes but don’t stop what you’re doing, patching up one of the crew’s minor wounds “I’ll sleep when I’m done.”

“You said that three hours ago.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow “And you’re one to talk? When was the last time you slept, Captain?”

Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose “That’s not the point.”

You smile, shaking your head as you finish tying off the bandage. When you straighten up, Law is still watching you. His expression has softened... just a little.

“What?” you ask.

“You take care of them.” His voice is quieter now, more thoughtful. “Like you’ve been here forever.”

Your breath catches.

Because that’s not true. You haven’t been here forever. You’re not one of them.

You force a grin, nudging his arm playfully “Well, someone has to. You’re a terrible doctor when it comes to yourself. So I help if it means you can rest”

Law scoffs, but there’s no real irritation behind it. Then, to your surprise, he reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist before curling around it. It’s a simple touch, but it makes your stomach flip.

“You’re overworking yourself,” he murmurs.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the dim lighting, or the way his fingers feel warm against your skin—but you don’t pull away.

“Maybe,” you admit “But you worry too much.”

Law doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his thumb traces a slow circle against the inside of your wrist, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I can’t help it” he finally says.

The words are soft, almost like he didn’t mean to say them out loud.

And that’s when you realize, he’s not just saying it as your captain.

He’s saying it as himself. As Law.

As the man who, against all odds, has started to care for you.

It only gets worse from there.

You’re not sure when it happens, when you stop thinking of this as a mission and start thinking of it as home.

The Heart Pirates are chaotic, loud, and ridiculous. But they’re also kind. Loyal. They treat you like family. Like you belong.

And Law—

Law lets you see pieces of him that no one else does. The quiet moments, the rare, unguarded smiles. The way he lets his walls down, just enough, when it’s only the two of you.

And you know, deep down, that this is dangerous. That you shouldn’t be letting yourself feel this much.

But then there are nights when you’re lying next to him, tangled in warm sheets, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm. When he lets out a soft sigh and pulls you closer, half-asleep, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

And in those moments, it’s easy to forget.

To pretend this is real.

That you’re not a liar.

That you’re not here for all the wrong reasons.

But the truth is always waiting.

And one day, when he looks at you with nothing but trust in his eyes, you’ll have to tell him.

Or worse—he’ll find out on his own.

And when that day comes…

You don’t know if you’ll be able to handle the way he’ll look at you then.

Life on the Polar Tang has a rhythm. A steady, comforting chaos that you’ve come to know well.

Days are spent navigating treacherous waters, dodging Marines, and patching up injuries after yet another reckless skirmish. Nights, though, are when things slow down. When the crew unwinds, when laughter echoes through the submarine’s halls, when Law finally lets himself breathe.

It’s on one of these nights that you find yourself in the middle of a full-blown disaster.

“Bepo, put that down—”

A crash. A shout. Penguin howling with laughter as Shachi dives for cover.

The common area of the Polar Tang is in complete chaos. Empty plates and bowls are scattered across the table, remnants of what was supposed to be a peaceful dinner. Bepo is standing in the middle of it all, guilty and frozen, holding what used to be a perfectly intact chair. Now, it’s nothing but splintered wood and regret.

“I barely touched it!” Bepo insists, ears flattened against his head.

“You threw it,” Ikkaku deadpans.

“It was an accident!”

Shachi, still hiding behind the couch, snickers “I told you he doesn’t know his own strength.”

“You made him arm wrestle the table...” you point out, exasperated.

“Okay, but in my defense—”

“Room.”

The entire room freezes.

Law is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. A slow, heavy silence settles over the crew. Bepo still has the broken chair in his hands. Shachi is half-hidden, looking like he’s about to bolt.

And then there’s you, sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching the disaster unfold with barely concealed amusement.

Law’s gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the mess, the guilty faces, the sheer absurdity of whatever just happened. He exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Do I even want to know?” he mutters.

“No,” you answer immediately “Definitely not.”

Law looks at you, unimpressed.

Penguin clears his throat “Uh, so, funny story—”

“No stories,” Law interrupts, already done with everyone’s nonsense. “Bepo, clean this up. The rest of you—figure out how to replace that chair. And if I hear one more crash tonight, I’m throwing all of you overboard.”

A collective groan echoes through the room, but no one dares argue.

As the crew reluctantly begins cleaning up, you watch Law turn to leave, only for him to hesitate, then glance at you. His brow furrows slightly, as if debating something. Then, after a moment, he jerks his head toward the door.

“Come with me.”

You blink “Uh, am I in trouble?”

His lips twitch, just barely “Not yet.”

You follow him to his quarters, where the air is quieter, calmer. Law shuts the door behind you, then leans against the desk, arms crossed.

“You looked entertained back there,” he remarks.

You smirk “Oh, I was. That was the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

Law shakes his head, exhaling through his nose “They’re impossible.”

“They’re yours.”

His gaze flickers to you, something unreadable in his expression. You don’t think much of your words, you meant them as a joke, nothing more.

But for a split second, something shifts.

You see it in the way his fingers tighten slightly against his arm. In the way his golden eyes linger on you, searching.

And for the first time, you wonder... does he think of you as his, too?

The thought is dangerous.

You push it aside, grinning instead “So, what do you need me for, Captain? Because if it’s paperwork, I—”

Law rolls his eyes before you can even finish “Shut up.”

And then, quicker than you expect, he reaches out, fingers curling around your wrist, tugging you forward. It’s not forceful, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, to send a rush of warmth through you.

His hands are always cold, but his touch is steady. Solid.

“Stay here” he murmurs.

You don’t answer right away. Because you know that if you stay now, it’ll only get harder to leave later.

But when he looks at you like that... like he’s choosing you, again and again.

You can’t bring yourself to say no.

You don’t pull away.

Law’s fingers are still wrapped around your wrist, his touch firm but not forceful. You’re close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet hum of the submarine around you.

He doesn’t say anything else—just watches you, waiting.

You swallow “You’re being weird.”

His brow twitches “You’re the one staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re debating something.”

Your heart skips a beat.

Because, of course, you are.

You’ve been debating it for weeks now, maybe even months. How much of this is real? How much of this is an act? And most terrifying of all... are you the one being played?

Because the way Law looks at you sometimes, with quiet intensity, with something dangerously close to trust, it makes you feel like a terrible person.

And yet, here you are, standing in his quarters, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, not moving away.

“I was just thinking,” you say finally, keeping your voice light “That you’re kind of clingy.”

Law scoffs and immediately drops your wrist “Forget it. Get out.”

You laugh, catching his hand before he can fully pull away. His eyes snap to yours, slightly surprised, but he doesn’t stop you when you lace your fingers together.

“I’m joking,” you murmur, voice softer now “I don’t mind.”

Law exhales slowly, like he’s trying to decide whether or not you’re messing with him again.

“…You’re exhausting,” he mutters.

“You like it.”

“I tolerate it.”

You smirk “Same thing.”

His lips twitch, just barely, before he tugs on your hand, pulling you toward the bed. You go without resistance, letting him sit on the edge while you stand between his knees, still holding his hand.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then, quietly, he says, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself, you know.”

The words hit you harder than they should.

You blink “What?”

“You act like you have something to prove,” he says, tilting his head slightly “Like you need to earn your place here. But you already have.”

Your stomach twists.

Because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that this entire thing is a lie, that you shouldn’t have a place here, that—

“Hey.” His voice is softer now. His free hand reaches up, fingertips barely brushing your hip “Did I say something wrong?”

You force a laugh, shaking your head “No, no. Just surprised you’re saying something nice for once.”

Law rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance there.

“I say nice things,” he mutters.

You smirk “Name three.”

He pauses.

Then, after a moment, he says, “You’re competent.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“You’re reliable.”

“Still sounds like a job review.”

He sighs, giving you a dry look “You’re annoying, but I don’t hate it.”

Your smirk widens “Aww, Captain. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He huffs, but his hand tightens slightly around yours, thumb brushing against your knuckles.

You don’t know what you’re doing anymore.

You don’t know if this is still part of the plan, or if you’re just falling into something you can’t escape from.

But for now, in this quiet space, with his fingers laced with yours and his golden eyes watching you like you matter...

You let yourself pretend.

Just a little longer.

[okaysonny]

nsfw headcanons 〆 jake kim

a/n: idk how to write smut...writing about smut however... 🙂‍↕️ wanted to feed my jake fixation ❤️

afab! reader ✦ established relationship ✦ nsfw content under cut

has he ever had sex? (in canon)

it's not explicitly confirmed, but we can be 99.9% sure he's a virgin lol. for obvious reasons, he's saving his first time for someone special, someone he's built a connection with.

and right now (as of 544), jake isn't actively looking for one. if he finds someone he ends up liking, those feelings will just...come by chance.

even without his father's example, he's not the type to do casual dating or hookups at all (imo anyway). he's just a chill guy who likes friendship and fishcakes ❤️

favourite positions?

jake is a man of 🌹 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 🌹 so the classic missionary is his fav. cowgirl is nice too, but he just loves the closeness.

how 🗣️ is he?

trust that jake has the most angelic, harmonious, sheet gripping moans in lookism 😮‍💨 very comfortable expressing his pleasure!

loves moaning in your ear during missionary - he wants you to know how good you feel.

what's he actually like during the deed?

gangster son in the streets, gentle lover in the sheets 😇 if you like rough + degrading sex, you're not getting it from him lolz. unless you really wanted to, but he wouldn't enjoy it as much.

jake always prioritises your pleasure over his. #1 of big deal, but also #1 foreplay enjoyer (^_-) makes you cum multiple times on his mouth and fingers before getting to the main event.

and when it actually happens, he never finishes before you. i think jake equally enjoys the intimacy of cumming inside and also how your stomach looks with his release on it.

he likes kissing your neck + whispering his admiration as you catch your breath.

aftercare?

loves cuddling after doing it 💘 just comfortable silence as jake holds you in his arms.

and like i said, he's a gentle lover, so he won't hesitate to carry you (bridal style 🌹) to the shower if he thinks you need the pampering. jake...i've seen wot u did 4 samuel...carry me bridal style PLEASEEE

toys? does he like them?

i don't think many of the lookism men would be into toys tbh. jake isn't an exception. if you want to use them, he doesn't mind, but...they don't tickle his fancy.

does he prefer 🍑 or 🍒 ?

THIGHS! he's a thigh guy. if you wear shorts or a revealing skirt, you'll catch jake staring multiple times. he loves staying in between them too ;)

how 📏 is he?

ptj wants us to know his characters have the biggest, juiciest, thickest cocks in the world 😭😭 eg: the sauna scene with samuel + eli during suwon arc - "woah! those guys are huge!"...like we get it sir...

but i think jake is average sized tbh! not too big, not too small. just the right size :3

💭 a sexual fantasy of his?

again...he's a man of 🌹 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 🌹, so even his fantasies are pretty sweet and romantic.

his secret wish is making love to you by the sea. (the jake + samuel angst location)

but one of big deal could easily spot you, so he stays quiet 🙂‍↕️

if you're both there really late at night and get carried away, it'll probably happen. he'd use his long black coat as a blanket.

a/n: i want to fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid

divider credits - enchanthings

[makeila04]

I have a problem regarding Weaver's direction concerning the original team… or what's left of it

I realized something: the Panama disaster happened in 1989. Well, if Weaver got out of prison in 1991 and was in prison for 6 years... it means that he most likely DOESN'T know that Hudson and Mason are dead. And Woods is in a wheelchair...

Weaver would have been arrested around 1985, meaning he missed all the events that led to Hudson's death in 1989 and Mason's capture. By the time he gets out in 1991, the world he knew has drastically changed.

Imagine that moment when, now free, he starts looking for his old teammates. Maybe he tries to contact Hudson first, only to find out his fate. Then, he searches for Mason and discovers that he’s disappeared. And when he finally finds Woods... seeing him in a wheelchair must be a huge shock for him.

Weaver doesn’t know that Hudson and Mason are dead. Hudson and Mason died in 1989 at the hands of Menéndez. Hudson was tortured and brutally murdered while trying to protect David Mason (Alex's son), and Mason was executed later (depending on the Black Ops 2 ending). Weaver was arrested before this happened, so he has no idea what happened to two of his closest comrades. When he got out in 1991, it's likely that no one directly told him, or that the CIA hid the details, since Weaver was a political prisoner, and his access to information must have been very limited.

Weaver doesn’t know that Woods is in a wheelchair. Frank Woods was left paralyzed after being tortured by Menéndez in 1989 and has been living with unbearable guilt ever since. If Weaver hasn't been in contact with Woods, then he probably still imagines him as the same strong and energetic man he knew before going to prison. When he finds out the truth, the blow will be hard.

How could Weaver find out? There are several ways Weaver could find out what happened:

A casual comment from someone in the CIA.

Woods could mention it if they reunite.

When he finally knows, his reaction will be devastating.

What if he meets Adler? He just rejoined the CIA after being hunted for over 10 months, given all the events we see in the Call of Duty Black Ops 6 campaign, also set in 1991. So imagine that Woods recommends going to Adler to talk and catch up on everything. Everything that happened in the CIA, all the traitors, Pantheon, Jane Harrow, how they framed him for the Panama disaster in 1989, but we know in the end it wasn’t Adler. A conversation that would give Weaver more context on everything that happened from 1985 to 1991...

If Weaver and Adler met in 1991, it would be an intense conversation, filled with information, repressed emotions, and perhaps a bit of resentment toward the CIA. We know that Adler was on the run for 10 months after being framed for the Panama disaster in 1989. Now that he has been reinstated into the CIA, Woods could recommend to Weaver that he speak with Adler to catch up on everything he missed while he was in Terminus Island prison. From Weaver's perspective, he just got out of prison after 6 years, the CIA betrayed him, Maxis is still lost in the Dark Ether, and his old world no longer exists. The first thing he would expect from the meeting with Adler is reliable information.

The second thing, although he would never admit it, is at least some human connection. Weaver always had a professional relationship with Adler, but both were men loyal to the CIA and hardened by the Cold War. Everything Weaver knew has crumbled. Hudson and Mason are dead. Woods is incapacitated. The CIA is no longer what it was. Pantheon controls things from the shadows.

The agency he swore to serve abandoned him and used him as a disposable pawn. Well, now the CIA director is Daniel Livingstone, and he’s the one who reinstated Adler and Woods so they can continue protecting them from the shadows and find out what else could be happening or who else might be left from Pantheon or who they are now under whatever name they have, but eliminate them once and for all from the CIA...

I would wholeheartedly like Weaver to stop looking for Samantha Maxis along with Requiem, Peck, Maya, and Ravenov just because Dr. Elizabeth and the others from Requiem insist and believe that she is still their friend because she sacrificed herself to defeat the Forgotten in 1985. I repeat, whenever she appears, something bad happens.

Now, there's no Hudson, Mason is gone, and Woods is screwed. Adler and Weaver know each other, and we know they get along and are familiar with each other. Why not help Adler? If Weaver wants to find a place to belong, what better than with the only two old friends he has left? Clear their names and his own. Isn’t that better?

Should Grigori Weaver stop searching for Samantha Maxis and join Adler and Woods? From a strategic and emotional point of view, yes, it would be the best for him. But Weaver is a complicated man, trapped in his own obsession (Kravchenko, Richtofen...) and misdirected loyalties.

Now that Daniel Livingstone is the CIA director and has reinstated Adler and Woods, the agency has a chance to redeem itself and eliminate any trace of Pantheon or their successors. This means that Adler and Woods have a new mission and a clear purpose, as we see at the end of the Black Ops 6 campaign. Weaver, on the other hand, continues to chase a ghost.

Reasons Weaver should stop looking for her:

She always used him for her own benefit and never saw him the way he saw her.

His obsession has kept him stuck for years, while others have moved on.

If she returns, it doesn’t mean she’ll be the same person. She spent too much time in the Dark Ether, and there’s no guarantee she’s still the Maxis they knew.

Weaver owes her nothing.

At this point, staying with Requiem is just prolonging his suffering.

Weaver is completely alone. Hudson and Mason are dead. Woods is no longer the same. But both Woods and Adler are still fighting and have been reinstated into the CIA. Adler and Weaver have a lot in common:

Both were betrayed by the CIA, used as disposable pawns.

Both have been through torture and prison (Adler was interrogated and hunted for almost a year).

Both don’t fit into the current world, but they can still fight. If Weaver really wants to find a purpose, what better than helping the only friends he has left?

Advantages of joining Adler and Woods:

Clear his own name. He wouldn’t be "the Terminus prisoner" anymore, but an agent with a real mission.

Focus on the real enemy. Pantheon, the traitors within the CIA, and the threats that still persist.

Finally break his obsession. Looking for Maxis is chasing the past. Helping Adler and Woods is fighting for the future. If Weaver decides to leave Requiem and join Adler and Woods, this could happen:

He would face reality. He’d have to admit that Maxis was never what he thought.

He could have conflicts with Requiem. They would see him as someone who abandoned them, but in reality, it’s Weaver who has been deceived for years.

He would have a real purpose. He would no longer be just a man searching for something that never existed. Now, he would have a mission, a reason to move forward.

Adler would welcome him with open arms. He needs him. If Woods can no longer fight like before, Weaver would be his best ally.

Key conversation: Weaver tells Requiem he's leaving, something like:

Weaver: "I’m going to help the only friends I have left. Woods and Adler need men in this. The CIA needs to clean up from the traitors who infected it. That’s where I should be."

Elizabeth shakes her head.

Grey: "Are you going to abandon Maxis?" Weaver looks at her emotionlessly.

Weaver: "Maxis abandoned us first."

In my opinion: Staying with Requiem means continuing to chase a lie. Joining Adler and Woods means fighting for something real. If Weaver wants to find a purpose, it’s not with Maxis. It’s with the only two men who still believe in him. And perhaps, for the first time in his life, he can finally be free. Ah... I don’t know...

Tell me your thoughts, or if it’s just me.

Tengo un problema sobre el rumbo de Weaver respecto al equipo original…o lo que queda.

Me di cuenta de algo:  el desastre de Panamá ocurrió en 1989. Bueno, si Weaver salió de la cárcel en 1991 y estuvo 6 años en prisión...significa que muy probablemente NO sabe que Hudson y Mason están muertos. Y Woods en silla de ruedas…

Weaver habría sido arrestado alrededor de 1985, lo que significa que se perdió todos los eventos que llevaron a la muerte de Hudson en 1989 y la captura de Mason. Para cuando sale en 1991, el mundo que conocía ha cambiado drásticamente.

Imagínate ese momento en el que, ya libre, empieza a buscar a sus viejos compañeros. Quizás primero intenta contactar a Hudson, solo para enterarse de su destino. Luego, busca a Mason y descubre que ha desaparecido. Y cuando finalmente encuentra a Woods… verlo en silla de ruedas debe ser un impacto enorme para él.

Weaver no sabe que Hudson y Mason están muertos

Hudson y Mason murieron en 1989 a manos de Menéndez. Hudson fue torturado y asesinado brutalmente mientras intentaba proteger a David Mason (hijo de Alex), y Mason fue ejecutado posteriormente (dependiendo del final de Black Ops 2).

Weaver fue arrestado antes de que esto ocurriera, lo que significa que no tiene idea de lo que pasó con dos de sus compañeros más cercanos.

Cuando salió en 1991, es probable que nadie se lo dijera directamente o que la CIA haya ocultado detalles, ya que Weaver era un prisionero político y su acceso a información debió haber sido muy limitado.

Weaver no sabe que Woods está en silla de ruedas

Frank Woods quedó paralítico tras ser torturado por Menéndez en 1989 y ha estado viviendo con una culpa insoportable desde entonces.

Si Weaver no ha tenido contacto con Woods, entonces probablemente aún lo imagina como el mismo hombre fuerte y enérgico que conoció antes de ir a prisión.

Cuando descubra la verdad, el golpe será fuerte.

¿Cómo podría enterarse Weaver?

Existen varias formas en las que Weaver podría descubrir lo que pasó:

Un comentario casual de alguien de la CIA.

Woods podría mencionarlo si se reencuentran.

Cuando finalmente lo sepa, su reacción será devastadora.

¿Y si se encuentra con Adler? Él acaba de reintegrarse a la cia luego de haber sigo perseguido por más de 10 meses, dado a todos los acontecimientos que vemos en la campaña de call of duty Black ops 6, también ambientado en 1991. Así que imagina que Woods recomienda ir con Adler para hablar y ponerse al tanto de todo. Todo lo que pasó en la cia, todos los traidores, Pantheon, Jane Harrow, como lo inculparon por el desastre de Panamá en 1989 pero que al final sabemos que no fue Adler. Una charla que le de más contexto a Weaver de todo lo que pasó desde 1985 hasta 1991... 

Si Weaver y Adler se encontraran en 1991, sería una conversación intensa, llena de información, emociones reprimidas y quizás un poco de resentimiento hacia la CIA.

Sabemos que Adler estuvo huyendo durante 10 meses tras ser inculpado por el desastre de Panamá en 1989. Ahora que fue reintegrado a la CIA, Woods podría recomendarle a Weaver que hable con él para ponerse al día con todo lo que se perdió mientras estuvo en la prisión de la Isla Terminus.

Desde el punto de vista de Weaver, acaba de salir de prisión tras 6 años, la CIA lo traicionó, Maxis sigue perdida en el Éter Oscuro, y su viejo mundo ya no existe.

Lo primero que esperaría de la reunión con Adler es información confiable.

Lo segundo, aunque nunca lo admitiría, es un mínimo de conexión humana.

Weaver siempre tuvo una relación profesional con Adler, pero ambos fueron hombres fieles a la CIA y endurecidos por la Guerra Fría.

Todo lo que Weaver conocía se ha derrumbado.

Hudson y Mason están muertos.

Woods está incapacitado.

La CIA ya no es lo que era.

Pantheon controla las cosas desde las sombras.

La agencia que juró servir lo abandonó y lo usó como un peón descartable.

Bueno, ahora el director de la cia es Daniel Livingstone y fue quien restituyó a Adler y Woods para que puedan seguir protegiéndolos desde la sombre y averiguar qué más puede pasar o quién más puede rondar que haya quedado de Pantheon o quienes sean ahora bajo el nombre que tengan pero eliminarlos definitivamente de la cia... Me gustaría de todo corazón que Weaver deje de buscar a Samantha Maxis junto con Requiem, Peck, Maya y Ravenov sólo porque la doctora Elizabeth y los demás de Requiem insisten y creen que sigue siendo una amiga de ellos porque se sacrificó para vencer al olvidado en 1985. Repito, siempre que aparece ella algo malo pasa. Ahora, no queda Hudson, tampoco Mason y Woods está jodido. Adler y Weaver se conocen y sabemos que se llevan bien y se conocen ¿por qué no ayudar a Adler? Si Weaver quiere buscar un lugar a donde pertenecer ¿que mejor que con los únicos dos viejos amigos que le quedan? Limpiar sus nombres y el suyo propio. ¿No es mejor?

¿Debería Grigori Weaver dejar de buscar a Samantha Maxis y unirse a Adler y Woods?

Desde un punto de vista estratégico y emocional, sí, sería lo mejor para él. Pero Weaver es un hombre complicado, atrapado en su propia obsesión (Kravchenko, Richtofen…) y lealtades mal dirigidas.

Ahora que Daniel Livingstone es el director de la CIA y ha reintegrado a Adler y Woods, la agencia tiene una oportunidad para redimirse y eliminar cualquier rastro de Pantheon o sus sucesores. Esto significa que Adler y Woods tienen una nueva misión y un propósito claro, como vemos al final de la campaña de black ops 6. Weaver, en cambio, sigue persiguiendo un fantasma.

Razones por las que Weaver debería dejar de buscarla:

Siempre lo usó para su beneficio y nunca lo vio de la forma en que él la veía.

Su obsesión lo ha mantenido estancado por años, mientras que otros han seguido adelante.

Si regresa, no significa que será la misma persona. Pasó demasiado tiempo en el Éter Oscuro, y no hay garantía de que siga siendo la Maxis que conocían.

Weaver no le debe nada.

En este punto, seguir con Requiem es solo una forma de alargar su sufrimiento.Weaver está completamente solo. Hudson y Mason están muertos. Woods ya no es el mismo. Pero tanto Woods como Adler siguen luchando y han sido restituidos en la CIA.

Adler y Weaver tienen muchas similitudes:

Ambos fueron traicionados por la CIA, usados como peones descartables.

Ambos han pasado por la tortura y la cárcel (Adler fue interrogado y perseguido por casi un año).

Ambos no encajan en el mundo actual, pero aún pueden pelear.

Si Weaver realmente quiere encontrar un propósito, ¿qué mejor que ayudar a los únicos amigos que le quedan?

Ventajas de unirse a Adler y Woods:

Limpia su propio nombre. Ya no sería "el prisionero de Terminus", sino un agente con una misión real.

Se enfoca en el enemigo real. Pantheon, los traidores dentro de la CIA y las amenazas que aún persisten.

Finalmente rompe con su obsesión. Buscar a Maxis es perseguir el pasado. Ayudar a Adler y Woods es luchar por el futuro.

Si Weaver decide dejar a Requiem y unirse a Adler y Woods, podría suceder lo siguiente:

Se enfrentaría a la realidad. Tendría que admitir que Maxis nunca fue lo que él pensaba.

Podría tener conflictos con Requiem. Ellos lo verían como alguien que los abandona, pero en realidad, es Weaver quien ha sido engañado por años.

Tendría un propósito real. Ya no sería solo un hombre buscando algo que nunca existió. Ahora tendría una misión, una razón para seguir adelante.

Adler lo recibiría con los brazos abiertos. Lo necesita. Si Woods ya no puede pelear como antes, Weaver sería su mejor aliado.

conversación clave: Weaver le dice a Requiem que se va, me imagino algo así:

Weaver: "Voy a ayudar a los únicos amigos que me quedan. Woods y Adler necesitan hombres en esto. La CIA necesita limpiarse de los traidores que la infectaron. Ahí es donde debería estar."

Elizabeth niega con la cabeza.

Grey: "¿Vas a abandonar a Maxis?"

Weaver la mira sin ninguna emoción.

Weaver: "Maxis nos abandonó primero."

En mi opinión: Seguir con Requiem significa seguir persiguiendo una mentira. Unirse a Adler y Woods significa luchar por algo real. Si Weaver quiere encontrar un propósito, no está con Maxis. Está con los únicos dos hombres que todavía creen en él. Y quizás, por primera vez en su vida, pueda finalmente ser libre.

Ah…no sé… Díganme sus opiniones o si soy solo yo.

[keppa-nero]

hey there!!! i read ur bill fanfic and GAH DAYUUM im so excited to see more of ur works in the future😫 i was wondering if you could write an arthur morgan x m!reader fanfic and how he'd feel being inlove with a man just as rugged as him, especially how he'd feel conflicted considering how he thought he only liked women bcs of his past relationship with mary?? THANK YOUUU

Thank you for liking it 🌞.

ALSO I'M BACK YOU GAYS/GUYS. (I'm starting the other ones I said

I would do, I promise I won't

dissappear completeley aiaia)

Arthur Morgan x Male! Copy of his,

Reader

TW: Short Headcannon \ Gay Shit

After what happened between him and Mary, losing Isaac, just losing pretty much everyone he once loved, Arthur just stopped searching for another thing to replace them.

He didn't believe someone or something would, or could, replace what he ever felt for Mary, how desperately he wanted her to leave the business with her father and simply run away to go with his gang, how much he had loved her, the way his heart had beat all fast. He quite missed it.

He didn't like the fact that the closest thing to that was you.

Arthur was the workhorse, dammit, it was all he promised to himself that he would be, that he'd forget about the stupid love bullshit that only clouded his mind with little fantasies that would never be true. But this one felt a bit too true and familiar to him.

You were... Quite like him, in all honesty.

You were more of the errand boy, just doing what Dutch or others asked of you and getting little in return, yet of course didn't let yourself be completely used or stepped over either. You got along with everyone, or at least tried to.

Everyone was comfortable around you, not like they would be around Micah for example, and you also listened to the ladies' troubles if they felt bad, even if you never spoke about your own things when you needed it.

You were really his complete other half, just maybe more depressed.

Arthur didn't mind though.

He's started to do little things more usually.

Like offering you to grab some thing you needed when he went on trips so you didn't get a headache walking around all the time.

Getting you a cold beer when the gang hanged around by the campfire.

Or just asking you how your day has been when he either saw you in a better mood, or more upset, and listened to your small, not-so-complete explanation about your problems.

So the day he finally gave up on fighting his own feelings and realizing what he felt for you, he did the most reasonable... Er, not approach you.

He wanted to see if it was temporary and if it'd go away when you realized he was avoiding you, if you got mad at him he'd be relieved, give himself a reason to not beat himself over the subject no more.

Arthur didn't last long with that plan anyway. He was feeling pretty lonely and was serious about it this time.

So after some more procrastinating on that stubborn head of his, and writing all his feelings ok his journal, like he usually does. Scribbling your face or how he sometimes saw you helping around the camp- Which he wouldn't admit even if Tilly or Mary-Beth had already realized and called him out on his daydreaming, staring.

He went with two big balls, and spoke to you, for real this time.

"Hey, you, this... Uhm... Yeah- Ya don't happen to be busy this afternoon with any job of yours wouldn't ya? We could have a... Nice chat just the two of us, if yer free..."

His confidence seemed to have fell down the second you turned his way to listen, and he could only hold eye-contact for few seconds before glancing away awkardly, not liking how you took some time to contemplate.

Of course, giving what he usually did and the fact most times he asked for a private chat with someone was to rob them- Made you stop for a second, but you knew him well, he wouldn't do that to you.

"No... Nothing I can remember now, huh, yeah we could, ya just, remind me of it later" You then answered casually, shrugging slightly at him.

Arthur couldn't keep back a little hopeful and excited smile that he had to live down as to not weird you out, letting a sound between a chuckle and a grunt as he nodded, letting a hand drop on your shoulder as he pat it on what he hoped seemed like his normal manner.

"Sure I will... See you later then, hm" He hummed to himself because it seemed awkward, no person ever had made it so difficult for him to act normal, he was so nervous right now even he didn't believe it.

He walked away like you did when he said that, thinking of how he sounded and if he was going to regret this when he spoke to you. That was if he didn't chicken out first.

Afternoon came after a while, and when he saw you didn't look busy, he called you over and the two walked a bit away from camp, sitting on one of the big rocks near the cliff there at Horseshoe Overlook. Arthur leaned onto the smooth rock and looked down as he started a little conversation to keep going, just when he went a bit silent.

"Weird question right here, yeah... What do you, like, think about a man liking another man?... As in how Williamson is"

Yeah this was his logic now, as what you thought about his feelings indirectly, and if you didn't mind then just confess. Desperate needs come from desperate times.

You took some time to answer as well, but looked at him a certain manner that told him you didn't expect something like that out of him, and chuckled a bit too.

"Oh, I don't mind a lot myself. However a man is happy and they don't hurt nobody" And you shrugged again.

Your answer, if Arthur had his heart on his throat already, now you might as well just made him throw it up, as he gulped, looking around.

He was still getting all the positive thoughts he could think of run to his head, that you wouldn't mind since you weren't... The type to. Yeah this was getting stressful and repetitive even to him, and he just spat it out.

"Okay, listen to me then, I... I'm-" He took a small gulp and looked into your eyes, taking his hand to yours and holding it gently, not noticing the way he squeezed it when he kept going.

"I think I love you, man I... I really think I do. I'm getting the same feelings I did when I was with Mary, you're a- A good man and I like being with you a lot... I mean a lot alright- I-I think that if you could give me a chance and all I could... Get you to love me too... I know I ain't likeable either, but I'll treat you right like I've been doing, and won't tell the rest about it, they don't need to care anyways..."

Arthur had almost said everything without taking a breath, but his tone had shifted from nervousness, to more confidence, then to affection, and back to nervousness. The look in his eyes was just telling you he meant it.

You though, were clearly just- Flabbergasted, that Arthur of all people would confess his love to you.

You, again, took some seconds to process and form an answer, but even then you could feel a similar hard thud in your chest like Arthur was at the second.

"Yes?… Uhm- If you mean all that, then I could... Give you the chance, Arthur, I know you're a good man" You laughed slightly, but your tone had a waver to it too.

"I don't really care if yer a man, if I'm being honest, anyway..."

That put a start for you and Arthur's little relationship. Arthur was in fact a very sweet man when in private too, just more vulnerable and like he really was.

He usually just hugs you or gives you little compliments since it's his love language, but still asks you from time to time if he's being extra or if it feels weird for him to do that, mostly when it's more private.

He really doesn't know how to touch another man, but he's really trying, and he's genuine.

Oh Arthur.

[maxdibert]

Do you have hcs about the relationship experience of SS and the Marauders?

Yes, I have my ideas.

People usually go for the virgin Severus take or the so devoted to Lily that he never had anything with anyone take, but I think we can interpret Voldemort’s words as implying that, while he might not have had actual relationships, he at least had some flings. Meaning that, within the Death Eater circle, he was probably encouraged to have affairs with pure-blood women. In fact, I have this personal headcanon that Narcissa used to introduce him to girls, but that’s just my own thing.

Strictly based on canon, I think he did have some casual encounters here and there. When he left Hogwarts, I believe he would have experimented like any young person his age, especially in an environment where things were probably happening. I don’t think he ever had anything serious or a stable relationship, and once Voldemort returned, I imagine he was too stressed, anxious, and overworked to even think about blowing off some steam. But before that? Yeah, why not. I also don’t see him as someone who did it often, but I do think that when he had the need or felt like it, he found ways to get it out of his system, like most people do. No big deal.

James was a virgin until he was with Lily. Classic teenage relationship where they lose it together, and that’s it, nothing more to analyze there.

Remus probably didn’t have any relationships until after Hogwarts, and even then, I doubt they were very successful. He gives off that nice guy vibe: seems super sweet, really kind, but then he gets you pregnant and bolts, you know? I think he probably tried to have things with people, but his self-hatred and low self-esteem always got in the way. Plus, with the whole lycanthropy issue and his constant fear of someone finding out, he likely considered long-term relationships too risky.

Sirius is always portrayed as the guy who probably slept with half the school because it’s clear he was very popular with girls and incredibly handsome—something Rowling reminds us of multiple times so we never forget. But I believe Sirius had a massive crush on James, even if he didn’t realize it himself and just saw it as brotherly attachment. I think it wasn’t until James started dating Lily and that codependency was broken—since James now had a relationship and was focusing on that—that Sirius even started looking elsewhere. What I am certain of is that once they left Hogwarts, he probably slept with as many people as he could, indiscriminately. He was totally the type to always hook up with someone at parties. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if, during his months on the run, when Harry sees him looking better (and with short hair—let’s remember that when Sirius is doing well, he has short hair), those were periods when he was also having some casual encounters. Because, come on, 12 years in Azkaban—that’s a long time.

I don’t think Peter had much going on. Maybe some flings after leaving school, but nothing serious.

Overall, except for James (for obvious reasons), I don’t see any of them having stable relationships. They had just left school when a war started, and then life got complicated for all of them, each in their own way. They weren’t exactly in the best position to settle down, even in relationships that wouldn’t have led anywhere. If that makes sense.

[bambambwi]

Hihi! Absolutely adore your fics <3 so i wanted to request smth for the first time :)

Can i request a g dragon x reader who is fun chaotic and just kind of matches his vibe she is also an idol (maybe she is from 2NE1 👀) and the two are pretty close friends and have fun , teasing eachother at award shows , shared concerts , shared interviews etc.. speculations begin on their relationship if its more than just friends based of how they acted when ever they are together. and one day the two kind of confess cause they do indeed like eachother ^^

(2014 , 2013 g dragon hits dif ngl)

I like you too ; a new start ?

You were a well-known member of 2NE1, celebrated for your exceptional dance skills, striking visuals, and most notably, your bright, cheerful personality, which made you a beloved presence among both fans and your labelmates in BIGBANG.

During the collaborative stages between 2NE1 and BIGBANG, you and g-dragon were a dynamic duo, captivating audiences with your electrifying performances. Fans adored the undeniable chemistry you both shared on stage.

At award shows, you both were often seated next to each other, whispering, laughing, and sharing inside jokes. One particular moment, a clip of ji yong casually brushing a strand of hair from your face went viral, fueling endless fan speculation about whether there was something more than just friends or labelmates between you two.

During a joint interview with 2NE1 and BIGBANG, the mc playfully asked ji yong if there was anyone he liked at the moment. Instead of giving a direct answer, he simply shrugged with a teasing smirk before winking at the mc, leaving everyone in the room gasping and fans buzzing with endless theories.

──────────────────────

“ji yong, so are you saying the rumors are true?" the mc asked, eyes widening in surprise.

"I don’t know what you mean by that!” ji yong laughed, clearly flustered, his hand coming up to cover his face in embarrassment.

"Is it true, y/n?” The unexpected question caught you off guard, and you could only shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh.

Almost instantly, whispers and teasing spread among both groups, turning the entire interview into a chaotic yet hilarious moment that fans would replay over and over again.

──────────────────────

During one concert, ji yong suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the spotlight during a breakdance segment.

“Go y/n! go, go y/n!” he chanted, hyping you up as the crowd erupted in cheers.

With no choice but to go along with it, you jumped into the beat, effortlessly freestyling. ji yong quickly joined in, matching your moves in perfect sync, the two of you feeding off each other’s energy. The stage lit up with excitement, and the moment became one of the most talked-about highlights of the night.

���─────────────────────

The media would often catch you and ji yong in matching outfits, from stylish clothes to accessories that seemed to complement each other perfectly. Whether it was a coordinated jacket or matching rings, fans and reporters alike couldn’t help but notice the subtle, yet undeniable connection between the two of you. The matching styles only added fuel to the rumors, sparking even more curiosity about the true nature of your relationship.

Despite how the media portrayed you both, the truth was simpler and more complicated. You liked him, and he liked you but deep down, you both were too afraid to talk about it, worried that confessing would risk the friendship you’d built over the years. The unspoken feelings lingered between you both, making every shared glance, every subtle touch, feel like both a promise and a fear of what could happen if things ever changed.

He was always incredibly gentle with you, always looking out for you in small, thoughtful ways. He’d let you wear his jacket when it got cold, offering to buy you meals when you were too busy to grab something for yourself, and he’d even help you during rehearsals, guiding you through tricky parts of choreography for upcoming concerts.

For him, you were magnetic. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put into words. Your personality, your appearance, everything about you drew him in, leaving him constantly captivated. Every time you laughed or shared a story, he felt a spark in his chest. Even the slightest touch, like your hand brushing against his, made his stomach flip, sending waves of nervous excitement through him.

When you both had to share a stage again, you couldn't help but feel nervous, crazy even. Why? Because this time, it wasn’t just any regular shared stage, it was something completely different. The song choice wasn’t funky or pop, it was a romantic, sultry track that required a level of chemistry neither of you had anticipated.

During rehearsals, ji yong became unusually cautious, avoiding being too touchy with you. It wasn’t because he didn’t like you, it was because he couldn’t handle the emotions that surged through him every time you both came too close. The same went for you. Each time your hands brushed or your bodies came within inches of each other, it sent a wave of nervous energy through you both. You knew that if you gave in to the chemistry, it might become too hard to ignore, so you both tried to keep it professional, even though it was becoming increasingly difficult.

On the day of the performance, ji yong found himself unable to take his eyes off you. The stage outfit you wore had a way of making you even more stunning, something about the way it fit you, the way you moved in it, made you look even more breathtaking than usual. It was as if the stage lights only highlighted your beauty, and every glance he stole from you sent a rush of emotions through him that he couldn’t quite control. His usual confidence faltered for a moment, and he found himself caught in a moment of admiration, his heart racing as the performance loomed closer.

As the performance progressed, you both nailed every move, feeding off each other’s energy and delivering the perfect show. Everything was going as planned, and you were both in sync, until the outro. The lights dimmed, casting long shadows across the stage, highlighting your silhouettes. In that fleeting moment, as the music slowed, ji yong stepped closer to you and without a word, he cupped your face gently, his thumb grazing your cheek and he leaned in and kissed you. The soft touch of his lips leaving both of you breathless, as the last note echoed through the venue.  

As the kiss lingered for those precious few seconds, the audience erupted into chaos. The cheers, gasps, and shouts filled the arena, as fans lost their minds over what they had just witnessed. The stage lights flickered as the final notes of the song faded, but the energy in the room only grew stronger. Backstage, the members of both groups stood frozen in shock, unable to believe what they had just seen. Their eyes widened, and whispers quickly spread among them, the tension palpable as they processed the unexpected moment. The kiss wasn’t planned at all, ji yong just took the risk at that very moment.

Once you both made it backstage, the silence was deafening, the weight of the moment still hanging in the air but that silence didn’t last long. As soon as your members caught sight of you, the teasing began. You could feel your cheeks heating up as the teasing continued, and you struggled to find the right words, your mind still racing from the unexpected kiss. ji yong, who had been unusually quiet beside you, just shrugged and gave a sheepish grin, clearly just as flustered.

After the teasing subsided, your members, sensing the need for a moment of peace, quietly stepped away, leaving you both alone backstage. The silence between you both was thick with unspoken words, neither of you knowing exactly how to process what had just happened. The adrenaline from the performance had faded, and now all that was left was the weight of the kiss that had changed everything.

ji yong glanced over at you, his usual confidence replaced with vulnerability. “y/n…” he started, his voice softer than usual, but the words seemed stuck. You met his gaze, your heart still racing, unsure whether to speak first or let the moment linger.

He finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity. 

"I really, really like you. It's been a long time now, and it's been quite hard to dodge my feelings towards you" he confessed, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding.

ji yong’s gaze softened as he continued, his voice almost hesitant. "And I understand if you don’t like me back. I just... I just wanted to get it off my chest."

He looked down for a moment, clearly nervous about your reaction, but his words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. The weight of the confession lingered, and you could feel your heart racing, unsure of what to say but knowing that this moment would change everything.

You looked up at him, your gaze soft and steady, the same gaze that ji yong had been avoiding to keep his emotions from overflowing. He turned to walk away, but stopped when you spoke up, with your voice a little shaky.

“ji..” you began, he turned back around to face you. 

You were looking down, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

“ji yong" you whispered, your voice barely audible, but enough for him to hear. "I like you too... I just don’t know how to—"

The words hung in the air, your heart racing as you struggled to finish. The weight of the confession was overwhelming, and you felt vulnerable, unsure of how to make sense of everything between you both.

He slowly walked up to you, his steps soft but purposeful, and before you could say another word, he pulled you into a hug. His arms wrapped around you gently.

"Im glad to know that" he murmured, his voice filled with relief and something softer, almost tender.

You rested your head against his chest, the feeling of his heartbeat beneath your ear making everything feel more real. In that moment, all the hesitations، and the confusion faded into the background, leaving only the quiet understanding that this was just the beginning of something new.

Just a few weeks later, the media caught on. Photographers snapped pictures of you and ji yong out together, the two of you clinging to each other more closely than usual. The way his arm was casually draped around your shoulders, the way you both laughed and seemed to melt into each other,it was clear to anyone watching that something had shifted between you. The rumors that had once swirled in the background now had undeniable evidence, and the media quickly exploded with headlines, leaving fans eagerly speculating about the status of your relationship.

But would you both confirm your relationship status? No, you decided that the world’s opinion was a secondary concern. The two of you had built something personal, something that was yours to navigate without the pressure of public expectations. The media could speculate all they wanted, but you both knew what was real. 

even though you and ji yong haven’t officially confirmed your relationship to the public, both 2NE1 and BIGBANG members are fully aware that you both were dating each other. It’s no longer a secret to them. The playful teasing was endless. Yet, you and ji yong remained quiet on the matter, choosing to keep the details of your relationship between the two of you, no need to rush into anything public when the understanding among your closest friends was enough.

[thewritetofreespeech]

baek yoonho x f!reader

plot: you thought the greatest obstacle to your relationship with yoon-ho would be your work schedules, or making it through a dungeon. apparently you were wrong though.

cw: fem reader, pre-existing relationship, age gap couple, miho is trying to be a good person but honestly it's hard

--------------------🐯---------------------------

The message on your phone was cryptic but seemed urgent. :Meet me at this address. 13:00 sharp: from an unknown number. You were tempted not to go, as you were not one to be told what to do by strangers on a telephone, but curiosity got the better of you.

You were surprised to find that the address was to a small diner downtown. The kind you get coffee and donuts either early in the morning or very late at night. Not much of a crowd draw in the afternoon. Still, you went in and looked around the fading décor to see if you recognized anyone and who the mysterious messenger might be.

“Ah shit…..”

Your eyes land down the row of booths to see Miho sitting at the third one. Her red hair sticking out vividly as ever and unmistakable, even before she looked up and made eye contact with you. “So it was you hn? Let me guess what this is about.” You tell her as you come close. No point in turning around now. Might as well sit across the table to let her get it all out.

“Can I get you anything?” The two of you turned towards the waitress that suddenly appeared. Clearly ready to take the tables order now that the full party was here. How long had Miho been waiting?

“Black coffee please.”

“Coffee. Double cream. Two sugar.” The younger woman sucked her teeth in disgust, and you turn to her. “Life ‘s too short to pretend to like black coffee kid.” Order complete, you lean back in your seat to stare at Miho. “Well. Out with it.”

“What are your intentions with my father?”

You arched a brow at the question. You half expected her to just come out and ask you to stop seeing Yoon-ho. The two of you had been together for a while, but tried to keep it a secret. When it did eventually get out, as all secrets tend to due, you expected the Vice Guild Master to come knocking with her complaints. Not ask what your ‘intentions’ were. “What is this a marriage meeting?”

Miho sighed. “I just want to know what it is you two are doing. Is this casual? Serious? Intimate?”

“Are you asking me if I’m fucking your dad?”

The waitress nearly dropped the coffee cup on the table as she suddenly returned again. Red faced as she sat the second cup down and scurried away. Miho sneered into her mug. “Must you be so crass?”

“I never claimed to be a lady.”

“Precisely. Which is why I don’t know what my father sees in you.” You jut your brows in silent agreement. You don’t know what Yoon-ho saw in you either. But the two of you enjoyed spending time together and you didn’t like to question when something was going good. “What do you see in him?”

“Besides your dad being super hot?” You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you might have heard Miho’s back teeth crack with how hard she was tightening her jaw. “I don’t know. I just like him. He’s smart. Funny. He’s a hard ass but…deep down he really cares and is a good person. He makes me want to be a good person.”

There was a moment of silence before Miho sipped her coffee and sat it back down. “Ok. I approve.”

“Approve?”

“Yes. I approve.” She repeated.

“I don’t need your permission to date anybody.” You remind her. “But…thanks.” You didn’t need it, but you guess it was nice to have. This couldn’t be easy for Miho. Seeing her father date. Plus, the fact that he was dating someone not that much older than her. Overall, she was being very mature about this.

“Just try to be responsible please. I’m too old to have a baby sibling.”

“Oh, come on. You wouldn’t be excited to be eonni down the road?”

Miho visibly grit her teeth at you. “I will leave you in a dungeon before that happens.” She threatened. Pulling out some bills before slapping them on the table and seeing herself out.

“Hmm….has her fathers temper….”

[pruneunfair]

When you have a shitty sibling. *TW: talk of abuse and rape*

This is a little different than what I usually post.

Not too long ago, I made a vent post that was mostly pretty vague but got the central point across, it's deleted now but not like it matters since it was just mindless ranting.

That vent post was dedicated mostly to my younger brother.

For all the people with siblings out there, we already know those corny depictions of brothers and sisters always getting along and calling each other "Big bro" was not the most accurate form of a sibling relationship. Naturally you fight a lot with this person considering they are a built in room mate, meaning you have to live with someone including their worst habits. Maybe they plop a plate into the sink right as you're done doing dishes, maybe they take your things without bothering to ask you, those are all normal things to expect out of a sibling. What doesn't feel normal is when they reach this level of behavior.

My brother who I'll refer to as B relatively liked to get on peoples nerves but other than that, he wasn't so bad to be around up until recently. It was little things at first, leaving his garbage behind in the living room, making a fuss if we asked him to do anything, and then it got progressively worse.

Skipping school for 3 months straight, running away from home to god knows what, bringing strange people home, vaping and taking substances, increasing levels of disrespect towards women, seemed to assume that if a person who happened to be female wasn't punished along side him meant that they were being bias toward her for being a girl, calling our own disabled mother lazy for being unable to work, expecting everyone to cater towards him and pick up his slack, actively call me and our mom a bitch/cunt, pretending that he's going to hit me to see me flinch, gaslighting us, severe lack of empathy, casually admitting to want to hit me and other people that make him mad, refusal to listen or admit when he's wrong.

B has changed this much in only the span of a year. The lack of empathy and over eagerness to have an excuse to threaten someone is honestly scaring me.

Lately I started to take on the role of tidying up around the house and cooking dinner. My mom as I mentioned is mentally disabled, she can still perform tasks herself and still is juggling around two households of the family, I don't wanna to get too into it but I'll just say that she needs to take a myriad of medication to help regulate her mind or else she could kill herself. Her mental health has declined in recent years to the point where she can't keep a job and she does need help more than ever.

Now I do not mind this at all, mom is still a very considerate woman who appreciates the help I do and still makes an effort to keep things easy, it's also a good way for me to learn independence and take care of myself. The problem is that I have to live with B for a brother and he likes to bring his gang of friends over for small house parties that I usually am in charge of when mom is away. The house is always left a mess as a result and I have to pick it up since B likes to weaponize his incompetence to escape responsibility, I have to pick up every piece of crap they leave behind and sweep up old crumbs off the floor only for those same kids to come back, destroy the house again, leave me to clean it up because B knows that if I don't, all he needs to do is continue weaponizing his incompetence until our mom snaps and has me clean it for him.

There is no compromising with him, B has made it clear that if he says "Nope" then we have to suck it up because he can always just run away to our dad or claim that we are just acting crazy. I can't even get some basic respect from him for being the maid for him and his friends bullshit.

Now this all wouldn't be so scary if I didn't know he had no empathy but he clearly doesn't. How do I know?

Well, I'll leave a pretty simple background: Mom kept telling dad to stop, Dad coerced mom that it would be fine and he lied about wearing a condom. 9 months later I was born.

This is very sensitive knowledge that we do not talk about at all, hell B and I weren't even supposed to know I was both a rape and a baby trap kid, I can't exactly remember why but mom mentioned it on a bad day that I now know was likely an episode.

And during an argument, B told our mother, the woman who was willing to stay with our father just so she can at least have a planned child in the name of B, that she should have taken some birth control before she "had sex" with our dad. That boy KNOWS that was one thing mom never wanted to remember, even when we reminded him WHY we don't talk about that, he didn't care, what mattered was that he got the point of him hating me across.

So yeah, I'm officially terrified of the same person who I used to know as an itty bitty baby sleeping in the crib next to my bed.

I know I am not the only one dealing with this shit, plenty of people do and it's shitty that you have to walk on egg shells around someone you knew when they were still innocent, a little baby turning into a monster with no interest in being better as a person, only in being right at all times. For anyone who has a shitty brother or sister reading this, I am so sorry that you have to live in fear of someone you called family but you are not alone, if you believe you might be in danger even, please tell someone, anyone at all, whenever it's a social worker at school, a cop, or even just a few people you trust. You don't deserve to believe you are worse then dirt just because you had to step up and pick up the slack around your household.

Thank you for listening.

[stellar-jay]

i think the real victim of the ending of fool's fate is molly, who is inevitably going to have her husband of however many years, stepfather to her 8 children, break it to her that he needs to leave for an indeterminate amount of time to go save the world with his best friend that she has never met and doesnt know that much about who it turns out is his literal soulmate

[reachexceedinggrasp]

So when I've been complaining about even fanfiction not being romantic enough, part of what I mean by that is that people take huge, gothic characters in pairings with gigantic, dramatic stakes full of titanic emotions and then make them feel small and mundane. Stripping the very romanicism from the bones of the romance.

There are many things that are deeply appealing to me about B&tB pairings or 'unlikely' pairings or Gothic romance in general, but something that is less structural while still being absolutely key is that it's not an easy relationship to get the characters into. It's not something that would happen under ordinary circumstances for either person. It's not a bond that can be forged without some form of pressure preventing these people from continuing in their regular patterns.

If you're writing an E/C fic where you start from scratch, the moment they so much as touch for the first time should be absolutely show-stoppingly prodigious. It can never be casual, not between these two, the idea of a touch being allowed should be an Event. The reader's heart should be thundering in their chest, the suspense should be palpable, the consummation divine. A single touch is a consummation for them, there should be that much tension. If they hold hands and I'm not holding my breath, you have done it wrong. The first kiss should feel like an atom bomb going off, the world should shift on its axis, a line is being crossed which has left both characters forever altered.

And people will instead write them like a standard romance novel couple who make standard pervy comments in the narration, get a bit flirty, casually hook up and then weigh pros and cons about whether dating fits into their life plans or not. All of this being totally without weight, without feeling like any kind of Rubicon has been crossed or that it's significant for the characters to have entered into something which must foundationally alter their worldview.

Reylo brushing fingers across the galaxy and it being the turning point of the entire narrative, given the same majesty and mystical significance as Luke's vision in the cave or Yoda lifting the X-Wing is the exact correct amount of emphasis for them reaching towards each other in tenderness. You have a character defined by abandonment and loneliness and a character who is surrounded by people but never touched, both unseen by anyone else, both aching for connection, both never having felt anything like this before, both aware of the galaxy-spanning consequences of what they're feeling. Them touching is le big deal.

The kiss for the B&tB pairing, the EtL pairing, any Gothic pairing has to feel out of reach, a chasm that cannot be crossed- until it happens, impossible yet inevitable. Something the characters could never have conceived of taking place at the beginning of the story, an infinite abyss of which they have somehow found themselves on the other side. You have to do the work to get them there, you have to build that bridge stone by stone, and it should be a sublime agony of seeing the path take shape while it still feels like the gap is just unbridgable, that no matter how close you come, it will never be complete, they can never get all the way across. Until they do.

If you write characters who have (or should have) that kind of vast gulf separating them as just kind of falling into an intimacy which isn't earned and thus means nothing, I just have no idea why we're here. Why buy a giant gothic castle of romanticism and then bulldoze it to build a minimalist condo? Everything about the pairing that makes it that pairing is stripped away. If these were people who could just meet at a party and end up in bed, they would be completely different people.

[killjoy-prince]

Why are the second bad relationship ends hard to get for the deep route boys ughhhhhhhhhh

[dapperrokyuu]

Dont know how to process this most recent Chainsaw Man chapter, currently.

[kisssukuna33]

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.

"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"

"yeah I did"

"Did you iron the clothes?"

"Uraume took care of it"

"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommended, Did you take it?"

"Already did"

"What about snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-

"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"

He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.

It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.

"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"

"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.

"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"

"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"

"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"

"Yeah you always do"

"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"

"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.

As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he finished and the opponent he defeated. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.

"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."

"if you're watching this I love you baby"

A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.

Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.

"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"

To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.

"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.

Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.

Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.

It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.

Wait..

No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.

But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.

Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.

You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.

"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"

"What's with me? nothing Ryo"

"You're are smiling very creepily woman"

"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"

"Yeah whatever come here, freak"

Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

"Ryo?"

"hmm"

"I love you"

You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I love you too princess, more than anything"

Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33

No grammar checks though sorry :/

[ssahotchnerr]

how do you think Aaron and reader who are married, react to both being called ‘Agent Hotchner’ and they both answer? That’s so cute, I could just imagine Derek smirking and Rossi having a proud dad moment

the hotchners

AHHH I LOVE THAT cw; bau!reader, established relationship, typical cm case talk, playful banter/fluff 🥰

"The unsub is devolving, they’re getting more reckless," Derek thought aloud, clicking his pen in hand. "He dumped the last victim in a public place, rather than the usual, secluded spot."

"They're losing control." You inputted in agreement, your eyes darting across the conference room table to him.

Aaron leaned down on the table, still standing, but with his palms pressed against the surface. He was next to you, and this stance allowed him to be ever so slightly closer. Your heart warmed by his proximity, as any displays of affection were at a minimum when in the field. You were happy he was just close by. "The next victim will probably be someone they can’t control-"

"Agent Hotchner?" A voice came from behind, hindering the conversation.

"Yes?" Both of you answered swiftly, out of habit, though it was a new habit for you. Your tickled eyes met Aaron's, your nose scrunched up slightly in amusement.

Derek grinned, swiveling back and forth in his chair in observance. Rossi raised his hand to his mouth casually, concealing a chuckle.

The voice in question, one of the local police department's officers, even hesitated himself, as if he didn't know which Hotchner he were to rely the information to.

As soon as you and Aaron got engaged, the discussion of whether or not you'd take his last name was on the table. To avoid confusing situations like these, or to prevent any reputable prejudices. It was rare, but every so often you received grimaces from bystanders, both in the field and in the office back home. Marrying your boss? Either tremendously romantic or something to be frowned upon.

But in the end it was unanimous; you wanted his last name, and as did Aaron. It was even more important to him. A symbol of a bond he couldn’t wait to share with you; an acknowledgment of the life you were about to build together. You and him. The Hotchners.

"Uh- sorry to interrupt. The victim's fiancé is here for their interview. They're waiting in interrogation." He stammered, his gaze switching between the two of you.

"Thank you. We'll send someone in shortly." Aaron replied, politely dismissing the officer. He kept his trained demeanor, but you could hear the laughter underneath his voice.

As his footsteps trailed away, you nudged Aaron, humorously bumping your shoulder into his upper arm.

He kept his gaze on the files laid on the table, his lips spread in a soft smile as he slowly shook his head.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Dave." He didn't even need to look up.

"Hey!" Dave commented, his tone light as he spoke. He held up his hands in surrender, but that didn't diminish from the proud gleam in his eyes; it also happened to be the same one he had adorned on your wedding day. "I didn't say a thing."

"Oh, but it's written all over your face." You quipped also, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Just when I thought the two of you couldn't be any more married." Derek rolled his eyes, playfully as his lips pulled back into a grin. "What's next? Have you mastered the art of the ‘yes honey’ yet, or is that still a work in progress?"

"Please, that was perfected before we got married." Aaron remarked as he relaxed his posture, straightening up. He flashed a smile in your direction, speaking over Morgan's cackle. "Isn't that right, honey?"

[mangostarjam]

you've been touching him a lot since he got back.

itoshi sae doesn't do anything about it — doesn't dissuade you from tugging at his sleeve or sliding his jacket zipper back and forth while you talk. doesn't comment or bring your attention to it.

but he watches.

you've been around him a lot since his plane landed, making up for all the time he's spent abroad, as if your daily chat threads haven't been enough. most of the time it's just the two of you, the way it used to be. sometimes his brother is around, though thankfully it doesn't seem like you've gotten any closer to rin since sae left.

other times there's a group, mostly your friends, a mix of guys and girls who don't seem to know what to do with themselves around him. sae is used to this — fame brings strange things to light — but you treat him as you always have, except for the touching.

you don't touch anyone else.

it makes him think.

sae has his reasons. he's never let your relationship get past that line, drawn in the sand. he's a professional football player on the other side of the world, and you have a life here. you have friends (even though you still call him your best friend), you have a job (that you complain about all the time), you have family (that can't be bothered to ever congratulate you on anything).

it wouldn't be right — to make you leave. to take you away. not when he needs to focus on being the best in the world.

(he is the best in the world. all those years ago he showed the U-20 team in japan the difference between them, the way the most they could hope for was dating a gravure model. sae never cared about that aspect. he already had you.)

he lets you touch him, but he doesn't touch you back. he keeps you at arm's length — where you're safe.

and then you ask him to be your wingman.

someone else — touching you? kissing you? having you? unthinkable. sae steps out of the shower and barely dries off before pulling on his briefs and pants. steps into his room and there you are, sitting on his bed, looking good, if a little sad.

he considers telling you to get your passport updated and catches the way your eyes trail down his form. maybe this conversation would be easier if he's wearing a shirt — your gaze is too heated, too distracting. you probably think you're being sneaky, hiding your feelings as best as you can, but sae knows you.

and your casual touches are ocean waves washing that line in the sand away.

sae walks towards his closet when it happens again. your finger in his belt loop, stopping him in his tracks. "what?"

"you were ignoring me," you say. "i asked if my outfit is okay."

your outfit is more than okay. "i would have told you to change if it wasn't."

"if you're going to be my wingman, shouldn't you hype me up?" you huff.

sae feels his jaw clench at the reminder. "no," he says, and his tone comes out cold. you don't seem to notice, falling back on his bed and testing every bit of self control in his grasp. "this is a waste of time."

he goes to pull on a shirt before he does something drastic. you're saying something, but it hardly matters when his flight leaves if you'll be on the plane with him. you've covered your eyes with your forearm, so you miss the way he pauses at the foot of the bed, teal eyes drinking in your form splayed out so defenselessly.

sae climbs over you silently, knees nudging yours apart, hands planted on either side of your body. "this is a waste of time," he repeats, watching with amusement as you take in his position. a blush sweeps across your face, but you don't push him off. that's a good sign, at least.

"what, you think i'm not worth being a wingman for?" you ask. silly. you have no idea.

and then you reach for his belt loops again, as if that's a totally normal thing to do and not something that drives him a little nuts every time. sae prides himself on his control, though, so he doesn't lean down to kiss you just yet.

"tell me," sae says, "have you become this touchy with all your friends since i've been gone?"

"n-no?"

it's cute, how wide your eyes get. sae leans down a little closer. feels your breaths on his lips. still doesn't kiss you — yet. "then i won't be your wingman. you don't need one."

"why not?"

do you know how breathless you sound? sae considers his apartment in spain, how he'll need to make sure the bedroom doesn't share any walls with the neighbors. the way you sound is all for him and him alone.

"because you have a boyfriend, now."

(companion piece to this)

[reidrum]

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face. 

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit. 

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.” 

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection. 

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks.  He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact. 

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain. 

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?” 

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other. 

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.” 

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side. 

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it. 

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”