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satorena · 5 months

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❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ! ❞

꒰ FEATURING ! ꒱. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento x afab!reader

꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱. cybersex, camgirl!reader, facetiming, onlyfans account, dirty talking, usage of toys, reader wears lingerie, fingering, anal play, consented video taping, feminine pet names, let’s pretend toji has money okay? okay.

RENA’S NOTE. big shoutout to my dawgs @screampied ! would’ve suffered a bad writer’s block if not for them <3 ly pooks

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“yeah baby~ fuck, arch your back just like that—shit!”

you complied to his request, moaning as you arch your back and push your hips backwards, deepening the angle of which your dildo penetrated inside of you.

from your facetime call, you faced the camera and propped your dildo to the wall behind you. you watched as your ass recoiled like waves, flesh bouncing off the wall in hypnotic motions, giving your boyfriend the pov he demanded at the start of this call.

you watched through your laptop screen as your boyfriend held his cock tightly with one hand, his other hand propped at the back of his head. his stomach clenched tightly as he matched your pace with his jerks. your wet squelches filled the atmosphere followed by your moans, arms stretched out to claw at the silk sheets on your bed.

“mmh—fuck baby, wish you were h-here right now,” you whine, bringing your fingertips to your lolled out tongue, coating the digits with your saliva, before slipping them between your thighs to focus on your neglected clit.

drawing figure eights to the bundle of nerves, your cheek smushed against the mattress, face heating and tears streaking down your cheeks.

bottom lip tucked in his teeth, gojo narrows his cerulean eyes to zero in on your figure, the sounds of your creamy pussy rocking back and forth on your dildo, your teary eyes watching him with such want— and fuck if he doesn’t wish this conference meeting overseas would end so he could blow your back out.

“i know, ‘m sorry— hah, princess,” he whines, thumbing his leaking slit as the hand behind his hair starts to grip at his own locks. the stinging feeling reminded him of you and it only turned him on further.

“just a f—few more days, yeah? and i’m all yours, promise baby, wait out for me,” he prods further, upset at the fact he has to reach out to you virtually. even behind the low quality of your camera, you shone like an angel sent from heaven, lashes wet with tears and your lips glistening from your smeared gloss.

you nod your head, before fluttering your eyes close as your gut begins to coil. your limbs grow hot and limp, toes curling and you up the pace of your rocking, the drag of the customized silicone dildo against your velvety walls stretching you in ways that reminded you an awful lot of your boyfriend.

“toru—fuck, i’m cumming!” you arch your back deeper, chest pressed flat against the mattress, fingernails scratching the softness of your sheets.

gojo had been on the brink of an orgasm eons ago, but he held back for you. to him, nothing beat busting a nut at the same time you did. his snowy white hair matted to his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red as he now focuses on his stiff cock with two firm hands.

he mimics circular motions you usually do, fighting to keep his eyes open as his orgasm washes over him just from the sight of your cries alone. your body shudders, your own orgasm washing over you from head to toe as you mewl out his name, spraying your juices all over the wall behind you and down your plush thighs.

your back arches outwards and you’re drooling all over yourself but gojo doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier in his entire life.

“shit—oh fuck, cum for me princess, make a mess all over—ngh, yourself for me—my perfect fuckin’ girl.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“welcome back everyone~”

there was something terribly sinful in the way the girl currently clothed in skimpy lingerie, fingers rubbing at her pussy in lazy circles with a dildo to her lips, tip of the toy teasingly grazing at her pink tongue—was also the same girl toji paid money to babysit his kid whenever he was away at work.

toji was no good man. this was definitely wrong on many personal levels, but alas he was still a man, if the way his dick hardened painfully quick at the sound of your honeyed voice alone.

he shifts in his chair, leaning back into it as he palms his hard on through his sweats. he watches with narrowed green orbs as you finally swallow the silicone toy down your throat, the dildo lubed in your saliva whenever it came out of contact from your mouth.

“wishin’ it was your fat cock instead, mmh,” you swirl your tongue around the dildo, before arriving to the tip and latching your plump lips around it.

you simultaneously increase the speed at your folds, fingers soon growing sticky with your essence as the obscene wetness fills the room. you moan around the toy, spreading your lips for the camera while clenching around nothing.

dick long freed from his pants and tucked tightly in his fist, toji groans as he watches your pretty pussy flutter and basically beg for him to fill you up. he hacks up some spit and drips it down on his girthy length, before roughly going back to jerking at his dick.

“i wonder which one of my lucky viewers is gonna get to fuck me next live?” you breathlessly giggle, before lowering the dildo in your free hand to your gaping cunt.

your comments flood with praises and pleasantries, with money flowing in easily—anything to capture your attention and have you notice them. they’re desperate, toji thinks, but realizes he’s definitely no better—hands already moving to donate a much bigger sum than whatever pussydestroyer69 could ever offer you.

“ooh, four bills is a hefty amount,” you tilt your head to the side, your pretty lips stretched in a perfect smile. you giggle when the comments start to insult toji but he’s too far enamoured in the way your free hand now travelled to your breast, groping at the mounds and flicking at your stiff buds.

you return to the regular programming, pressing the tip of your dildo to your cunt, dragging it up and down your wet folds, teasing yourself with your legs spread open for the viewers to see.

“fuck— this feels amazing, mmh, ‘m sooo sensitive,” you whine, applying a small amount of pressure to slightly push the tip in but pull it back out.

this was torturous— your thong pushed to the side to reveal your puffy lips as it leaked your essence. toji let his mind run to how badly he wanted to taste you. he was sure you’d be as sweet as honey, a potent taste on his tongue, and the thought of you face down with your ass up, begging for him to eat you out had his balls tightening with eagerness.

“fuckin’ shit— what a tease.” toji grunts, throwing his head back as he rubs the callouses at his palms against his veiny skin. his hips jerked up in anticipation, feeling his limbs run hot while his thumb circled at his reddened tip.

“y’wanna fuck my gaping pussy? yeah, ‘m all wet and tight just for you— hnng, bet i’d have you cumming quicker than you ever had~” you taunt, and finally push the toy all the way in, moaning at the stretch of the toy at your pussy.

your toes curl and you tighten your hold at your tits, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of your cunt, the slick sound of the friction enticing toji as he matches your pace, fanged teeth biting down at his bottom lip.

you pout your bottom lip, small whines escaping your throat as you fuck yourself desperately. “feels’good— shit, need you to fuck me daddy!”

call him delusional but he felt you spoke to him and not the rest of these bums, legs opened and pussy clenching down at the dripping toy, as your hips rocked upwards to try and meet the dildo for further pleasure.

the telltale of his dick twitching uncontrollably told he was on the brink of an orgasm, one that has him cursing incessantly and brings sweat to his hairline. he pries his eyes open, refusing to miss out on how your folds get abused by yourself, multitasking between thrusting inside and attacking your clit.

“‘m gonna cum daddy—please lemme cum—ngh!” you plead, and as if some force between the two of you is pulled, you spray your essence all over yourself, slick dripping down your sheets and wetting your lingerie, staining your panties soaked as toji calls out your name, hips bucking into his tight fist as ropes of hot cum are pulled out of him.

“there we go baby—damn, keep creamin’ just like that.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

“c’mon mama—don’t you let up, fuck, keep bouncin’ f’me.”

you whined some more, thighs aching and trembling from your consistent riding mixed with the added stimulation to your rim from your gifted anal plug. behind you was geto’s set up, computer camera propped as your back faced it, with geto seated at the edge of the bed.

hands planted firmly onto his chest, you stabilized yourself as you continued to rock your hips, dragging yourself up and down on his inches of dick, feeling his hardness stretch out your walls.

“sugu, ‘s too much— shit, want you to fuck me already!” you moaned, leaning your head downward to his broad shoulders, forehead slippery with sweat.

geto chuckled at your neediness, clicking his tongue as he lands a firm slap to your reddened ass. you all but moaned, hips moving back and forth as you clenched your mounds around his cock.

“but baby,” geto complains mockingly, slipping his hand in between your bodies and thumbing at your swollen clit. “y’wouldn’t wanna disappoint your fans, would ya?”

as he spoke, he glanced over your shoulder to check the comment section, as it was filled with numerous donations, praises as well as degradations. the more his viewers donated money to him, the quicker the toy plugged in your ass vibrated.

the triple stimulation had your brain gone to mush, your golden spot brutally toyed with as the foreign but pleasurable feeling in your puckered hole stretched it out, added with the circles at your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“uhn uhn,” you shake your head, all but against the idea of ruining his live stream simply because you were tired. more than anything, you wanted to cum, even if it had been in the most torturous way you could think of.

“that’s my good girl,” geto presses his lips at the crane of your head. his praise sends tingles in your belly, core licking with heat. his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, groping the soft mounds as encouragement, the actions causing a shift in the toy to be pushed slightly deeper inside of you.

“f-fuck—don’t do that, i’ll cum!” you complain, arching your chest into his, sensitive nipples brushing into his own.

the creamy mess at the base of his cock clearly accessible to the viewers sent a massive amount of money right into geto’s account and straight to your ass, as you jolted into his hold, clinging your arms around his neck.

“holy shit—one thousand?” geto asks breathlessly, followed by immediate more pinging indicating more donations. “you’re a hit baby—they fuckin’ love this pussy. too bad it’s all fuckin’ mine though, hah,”

you’re flattered by it all, and hit with a final wave of confidence before you’re sure the dam in your gut will snap, you push him back to lay on his bed. geto watches you with a cocked brow and smug smile, baby hairs messily framing his flushed skin.

“oh?” he asks, amused by the sudden turn of events. he never lets go of your hips, instead tightening his hold on you as you plant your feet to the mattress.

you hop up and down, his dick nearly slipping by how far up you rode him, with your palms pressed against the plane of his abs. feeling tears build up at your lash line, you moan and wail, dick penetrating deep into your cunt deliciously.

“fuckin’ ride this dick, ‘s all yours mama—shit, gonna make me cum all inside that pretty pussy, mmh. give it all t’me,”

it doesn’t take much between his constant praising, the slickness of your wetness around his cock and the additional vibrations to your ass to have you cumming hard around him. you clamp your walls down, momentarily pausing your riding as you let it take over your entire body.

geto comes through, hips bucking upwards to further your orgasm and you’re sure you momentarily blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“what a pretty fuckin’ face baby, all mine. goddamn, ‘s too bad your biggest fan won’t get to see it— ain’t that right, satoru?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“k-kento—oh fuck daddy, ‘s so fucking deep!”

his wrist ached as he worked his way up and down his cock, tip throbbing an angry red. he watched himself hold your waist with one grip of his hand, the other propped up to film the lewd scenery, capturing you in all your glory.

nanami maintained a steady focus, pistonning into your cunt at a ruthless pace, a ruthless angle, and judging by the sound of your broken moans, he was thrusting into that spot that had you seeing stars and slurring your words.

on the screen showed you face down with your ass up, hands bind by his tie behind your back, face planted into his bed as he fucked into you passionately. your pussy gripped onto his cock greedily, sucking him in as the ripples of your ass bounced on his pelvis.

“my perfect girl, fuck, keep taking it just like that.” his large hand held at your waist firmly, bottoming out just to pull out all the way to where your lips latched at his tip, coating his dick in your creamy essence.

his hand made it to the top of his shaft, and when the screen presented him an erotic view of both your body fluids— semen, juices, sweat— sticking between both your damp skin, where you lowered yourself on his cock and where he pushed forward to fasten the process, his thumb grazed over his slit tauntingly, the same way he’s seen you done it dozens of times.

it’d never occur to him that watching himself plow into you would turn him on so, but you were so far away and he was immensely turned on.

his button down now unbuttoned, his chest heaved up and down as he panted heavily, sliding his other hand down to cup at his balls, the way you’ve done to him so many times. he winces at the feeling, dick painfully hard as it twitches in his hold.

“holy fuck— my perfect fuckin’ girl, shit.” he groans, narrowing his eyes to focus on the hypnotic sight that had his erection crying impossibly further.

the sight of you unable to do anything but take his dick like the slut you were made to be for him had him curling his feet and thighs tremble rather quickly. your fingers twitched as you begged him to free you, to let you touch him, but all that resorted to was your ass getting slapped for your disobedience.

“behave princess.” nanami warned you while rubbing his hand at the reddened skin, and you whined a ‘m so sorry daddy but obeyed nonetheless, and whatever kink triggered in nanami activated, as he jerked off faster, desperate to chase that release.

in the video, nanami pulled his dick out momentarily, causing you to cry out at your pussy’s emptiness. lowering the camera to your abused cunt, your pink walls gaped and clenched around nothing, practically calling out for him to fill the void. he chuckles behind his phone, before grabbing at his cock and lining himself at your entrance, teasing your folds by dragging his tip up and down before bottoming out again.

“fuckin’ hell, i need you right now,” nanami cussed, wanting nothing more than to feel your warmth around his cock instead of his own hand, to feel you clamp and suck him into your pussy, to have you squirt on his cock and still beg him for more despite your sensitivity.

between the pornographic sight of your cunt clenching down on his cock, your asshole winking at him, the recoil of your ass onto him and the sinful arch of your back, nanami soon painted his fist white in his cum, head thrown back as he was overtaken by an orgasm.

“damn it—shit, just like that princess—keep gripping onto me, gonna fill that pretty pussy full of my cum.”

yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert

#stargirl★rena.#www.tumblr.com/satorena #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut

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kazoo-world · 1 month

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okay. i debated not posting this because I was worried I’d get death threats (that says a lot doesn’t it) but it needs to be said, because its upsetting me.

a woman who publicly says she feels very sane and has “never been to therapy” and who breaks up with her boyfriend in part because he can’t just “”get over”” his depression to love her the way she wants/needs does not.

I repeat, does not.

get to use the imagery she did in her fortnight video.

I’ve been seeing gifsets and screenshots all day of her chained to a bed but ~aesthetic~ and being fed a pill after a cheeky side eye and strapped to a glamourfied ECT machine and no one has said anything about it so I will. those images are genuinely triggering for me.

people have been restrained, forcefed pills, and given electroconvulsive therapy or subjected to the electric chair for severe mental illness against their will. these are not fun props anyone gets to throw around to express that they feel depressed or in a “manic phase” or like they were “raised in an asylum.”

she doesn’t know how a real asylum fried my grandmother’s brain or real cops restrained me because I was psychotic and manic. she doesn’t know what it feels like to be dehumanised that way.

do better. demand she do better, too.

edit: I say that this content is triggering to say that it causes real harm. I do still have a responsibility to myself to curate an internet experience for myself. this does not negate her responsibility to avoid replicating harmful tropes in art which is deeply influential. she does not get to co-opt institutionalization or psychiatric violence as a romanticized aesthetic or as a metaphor because real people like myself have suffered greatly under the things she is representing as glamorous or cool. institutionalization silences and violates mentally ill people in a way that marginalizes them, and that experience should be treated with sensitivity and care rather than being commodified to reduce stigma. if she had experienced these things, I might feel differently, but other ableist content on the record and her statements on her life and art indicate otherwise. she is a woman with immense privilege and power and should not be using that privilege and power to punch down on mental illness.

edit 2: I want you all to know I have seen your criticism. I will not edit the post but I do respect that she has had mental health struggles since that outdated quote. That is my mistake, I own that. My apologies.

However, mental health struggles =/ experience with psychiatric violence. Experiences of mental illness are heterogenous. Aestheticizing, romanticizing, and glamourizing mental hospitals is straight up gross regardless of your experience with mental illness. It’s tasteless and offensive.

I do understand metaphors. I think that her calling her life an asylum as a metaphor is in poor taste. I think her representing her relationship struggles with the imagery of a mental institution is insensitive given the impacts that real asylums and mental hospitals have had on my life and the lives of many others like me, so I had to say something about it.

It’s ableist to assume that critics of your fav “can’t read”, “don’t understand a metaphor” or “don’t have brains” when they clearly demonstrate that they are thinking critically. Do better.

#REBLOGS ARE BACK ON IF YOU CAN BE NICE #anti taylor swift #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #taylor swift ttpd

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 6 months

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Mc accidently got splashed with a (obsessive) "love potion" and she falls in giddy love with first person she lays her eyes on.

All she wants to do is give them kisses and hugs...and yea she also is clingy and she follows them around even duuring class. She is ready to do anything for her "love" ( like whatever they ask of her) she wants them to be happy . She is convinced that they are dating and it's honestly pointless to try and explain things to her.

How would Azul, Jamil, Malleus, Duece and Floyd hanndle the situation/what's their reaction? ( they were not dating before )

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul was doomed by yet another situation he couldn’t see himself out of. He hardly knows how to handle you normally, or rather how to handle his feelings for you, but you’re much harder when you’re like this. Having you clinging to his side and demanding his attention made it impossible for him to concentrate, and feelings be damned he wasn’t going to let his business suffer. Since Jade and Floyd refused to escort you from his office (finding Azul’s flustered face and inability to actually push you away the best comedy bit they’d seen in years) he ordered them to instead find a cure for the nightmarish love potion that ailed you. They do agree but take longer than they need to, wanting Azul to endure his torturous thoughts a bit longer.

Deuce Spade:

You have poor Deuce stressed OUT. He’s too worried about your well-being to hear any of Ace’s teasing, also focused on keeping his lips covered in case of another surprise attack. He wouldn’t mind under normal circumstances but this doesn’t feel genuine (and he had a much more romantic first kiss in mind for the two of you). He boldly confided in his seniors about you in hopes of them helping with a solution, tightly holding your hand to keep you at bay. He’s willing to go to any length to cure you, even if he’d miss the closeness.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd is willing to milk this situation for all that it’s worth. He particularly enjoyed the squeezing contest you had, and how tightly you clung to him even after he clearly won. He would have loved to keep you all to himself, using your condition to get out of working at Mostro Lounge as it would be hard to cook with you attached to him like you were. Jade is surprised with how long Floyd indulged your clingy behavior, even when he seemed fed up, he knew if he really wanted to push you away and lock you up so you’d leave him alone, he would do it.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil would have used you for all you were worth if he didn’t have feelings for you. He’s frustrated that yet another responsibility was thrust upon him, but turning his back on you was not a choice under these circumstances. It makes it hard to go about his day when he has two different people bothering him all day, but you proved to be the bigger challenge (for now). If he could concentrate he’d have an easier time of finding a solution but there was a part of him that longed for you to continue to worship him, curious how much of this might mirror your relationship if you ended up dating.

Malleus Draconia:

You had always been more honest with Malleus than others, but this was certainly new. As much as he enjoyed your emboldened behavior it didn’t take him long to detect something was off, leaving him conflicted. He wouldn’t mind having a close relationship like this with you, maybe some more boundaries discussed for the sake of Sebek’s heart and everyone else's eardrums, but he was disappointed to know this wasn’t you acting on ‘real’ feelings. He’s even more suspicious about how and why you were splashed with such a potion to begin with, growing rather possessive at the concept of someone trying to steal your heart away from him.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Deuce Spade #Floyd Leech #Jamil Viper #Malleus Draconia #azul ashengrotto x reader #deuce spade x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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vivwritesfics · 6 months

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Tired Eyes

Oscar's girlfriend is hella sleepy and Oscar is the most caring guy

Idk i was thinking about my past relationship and how I don't miss the person but I miss feeling safe enough to fall asleep with somebody after work when the world had taken everything out of me

Oscar Piastri sat in his London apartment, in front of the television. He'd just gotten back from the gym and currently had nothing to do. Oscar sat on the sofa as he skipped through the suggestions on the Netflix account he shared with his girlfriend.

His girlfriend who was due home any moment.

Oscar was waiting patiently, but his patience was wearing thin. Not in an angry sort of way, but he was soon going to begin to get worried.

Y/N being late wasn't uncommon. Her job was demanding had her working into late hours of the night. It wouldn't be so bad if it was just the job, but Y/N had university at the same time. University and then working until 10PM was hard.

Of course, Oscar had offered to help her pay her way, but Y/N had turned him down. She didn't want to rely on him for everything and her studies were important to her.

When Oscar pulled up his phone to message her, the front door opened and Y/N walked walked in.

"Hey, Osc," she said as she dropped her things onto the floor.

Oscar turned in the sofa to face her. "Hey, baby," he said as he stood up and walked over to her. She opened her arms and wrapped them around his thick neck as Oscar pulled her in close. He kissed the top of her head as Y/N allowed him to lead her further into the apartment. "Have you had something to eat?"

Shaking her head, Y/N threw herself down onto the sofa as Oscar went to the kitchen. He wasn't much of a cook, but getting something as simple as a cheese toasty in her stomach before she fell asleep was going to be good enough for him.

As Oscar let the toasty sizzle in the pan, he brought Y/N something to drink as she put on a movie. A comedy, something Oscar wouldn't laugh at, but it was still an easy watch.

Two minutes later, Oscar sat down and passed Y/N a plate with the toasty on it. "Oh, Osc, I love you," she said as she took it from him.

It was gone within a matter of minutes. Y/N placed the plate down on the table beside the sofa and shifted so that she was leaning up against him.

"Long day?" He asked as he wrapped his arm around her.

Y/N nodded her head, her blinks slow. She was so fucking tired and Oscar knew that. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and let her watch the television.

Oscar was barely paying attention to the movie. It was one they had seen before, easy watching, like I said. "I never got this bit," he muttered and looked down at his girlfriend.

But Y/N didn't answer him. She didn't say anything. Her eyes were shut and her breathing was even, small snores leaving her lips.

Wow, thought Oscar as he stared down at her. She was so damn cute.

Oscar didn't dare turn the television off. He knew her too well for that. He knew as soon as the television went off, Y/N would wake up and then she wouldn't get to sleep for at least an hour, no matter how tired she was.

So, he suffered through the movie, his fingers playing with her hair while she slept on.

Y/N didn't stir in her sleep. But she shuffled closer to him and tightened her grip around him as she slept on.

It was only at the end credits that she finally stirred away. Y/N's eyes opened as the music played. For a moment she was disoriented, looking around around at the familiar apartment. "Shit," she groaned as she sat up. "Sorry, Osc," she whispered and pressed his cheek against his shoulder.

Leaning towards her, Oscar kissed her. "It's okay, sweetheart," he said and stood up from the sofa. "Lets get you to bed."

So, Oscar helped Y/N up from the sofa. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he walked her towards their bedroom. It seemed to be effortless for him.

Rather ungracefully, Oscar dropped Y/N onto the bed. She bounced slightly as she landed and Oscar turned to grab pyjamas for the both of them as Y/N pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows.

As soon as the both of them were changed and ready to bed, Y/N and Oscar climbed under the sheets. Oscar wrapped his arm around her and pulled her across the bed, holding her against him. "Love you," she said, shutting her eyes as her head laid against the pillow.

Leaning over, Oscar kissed the skin of her neck. "Love you."

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astrophileous · 1 year

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A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

8K notes · View notes

stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months

Note

For the Jason drabbles, what about Jason conforting/taking care of reader while they are sick or even on their period?

We love a supportive man. What he receives he gives back tenfold.

“Show me where, baby.”

His hand roamed along your lower abdomen, imagining the soreness in your tense muscles. The spikes of pain that riddled you bedridden during your most heavy days.

“Here?” He applies pressure, fingers rubbing circles down just under your stomach, along the spot near your hip bone.

“Oww, yes,” you whine, wincing from the pain before being soothed by his massage.

Jason knew what periods were. He knew it’s a natural thing women dealt with. He’s worked with women for years, alongside doing his own research on it during one time you hadn’t left your bed for a while, thinking you were sick at first. It was an.. interesting conversation with Babs over what more he could do to help that the internet didn’t tell him about those relentlessly heavy cycles.

Pain like this took a lot longer to be rid of than a heating pad would allow. Especially the good quality ones with different settings.

Or, if you want something different, something fun that he wouldn’t mind shoving into the microwave for a minute, he’d get you a heatable, plush teddy bear. Or a duck. Or a menstruation crustacean.

He had no idea what the hell that was until you showed him on the site. You received whatever you chose in a box nearly three days later from Prime shipping.

Don’t freak out about blood. Accidents happen. If you got some on the sheets, along his lap when he held you, or on the couch, he could’ve cared less.

He wouldn’t even point it out, if you didn’t know. If you did notice it, he’d immediately shush you in an consolation attack, hiding your shameful expression in the crook of his shoulder.

“Shh, baby,” he’d murmur in your ear. “Easy. Nothin’ I haven’t seen before. S’alright, it’s okay.”

With advice from Babs, he cooks a lot more iron rich meals for you a lot more during this time. Usually, it’s been a team effort. You cook, he cleans up, you wash dishes together. Vice versa.

This week, regardless if you suffer from irregular periods, he does it all. He’ll do it even if he was a walking zombie, he doesn’t care.

Jason will not, no matter what you say, let you lift a finger if he knows you’re in pain. He’s an expert of masking his own, he can tell when you do it.

This even goes if you’re not used to being babied, get used to it. You tend to him for weeks at a time in a single month alone, this is his way of saying thank you for it all.

“Bed.” Jason demands, not even having to turn around from his attention on the stove to hear your shuffling to the kitchen.

“But I’m—“

“I brought you a drink,” he replies. A cup of warm raspberry leaf tea sitting on your bedside.

“No, I mean—“

“I know it hurts, but you can’t take anything until after you eat,” Jason peers over his shoulder, seeing his olive green shirt loosely draped over your body. “Go back to bed, Princess.”

“Can I stay here?” You plea, making his shoulders slump with a sigh. Try as he may, your weakened state makes him more pliable to your every request.

Might as well, since you’re already up. Stubborn girl.

“Go sit on the couch,” he sighs, knowing a few comforters were folded up on the cushions. “Get comfortable, an’ stay there. Dinner’s almost done.”

Jason has pills, plenty of them. From plain Tylenol, ibuprofen, to doctor prescribed muscle relaxers, morphine, etc. All thanks to Alfred.

Broken bones or severe, suture required injuries would be the only times Jason felt complied to take them. He knew addiction, watching it first hand and being involved in it at one point himself. He only took them when he absolutely, positively needed it.

For you, if you needed something stronger, he’d give you half of one pill, or a full, single pill at most. No way would you ever fall victim to such a cruel, toxic routine. He’d keep them locked up, for both your safety and his.

After your said hearty, iron rich meal, you remained on the couch snuggled up together like true lovers.

His guilty pleasure during your period of vulnerability was how much you relied on him for comfort. Positions varied, but his most favorite would be your body laying in his lap as he lounged on his reading recliner.

A gray comforter over your shoulders, some fuzzy socks on your feet. The furnace you called your boyfriend leaving you nice and toasty, his hands settling along your hair and back, preparing to soothe and massage when needed.

He adored when you needed him, he loved catering to you. You were his woman, his little nurse turned patient.

This also sort of gave him an excuse to skip out on patrols, but he never voiced the reasons why he’s gotten calls about it. He just didn’t feel like it, refusing the idea of abandoning you late at night, leaving him tense and unfocused on his routine on if you needed something, and he wasn’t there.

The others, with their detective mindsets could figure it out for themselves as to why Jason didn’t show up on a Saturday night. Or a Sunday, and definitely not a Monday.

He had important priorities, after all.

Just him, you; snuggly comfortable and content, and your herbal scented, menstruation crustacean.

#jason todd x y/n #Jason Todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd dc

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finn-writes-stuff · 2 months

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Hello! Can you write for Gale, Astarion and Halsin's reaction to tav wearing the wavemothers robe? Nsfw please😳

An Intricate Jewel

Tales tell of a most wondrous fish, scales resplendent, an intricate jewel that shone beneath the sea. When it died, the Wavemother gifted its hide as a robe to her most devoted follower - and demanded she drown the sailors that killed her gem-bright fish. - Item Description

Halsin, Gale & Astarion x Reader

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Format: Headcanons

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

I haven't actually gotten to this robe in my own playthrough yet, but I've seen plenty of it online lmao. This one isn't fully nsfw but it's spicy. -Finn

Halsin

"Oh. You look stunning, my heart."

He is openly admiring you any chance he gets. It is shameless because why would he be ashamed of looking at you? Of admiring all of nature's bounty before him.

He's handsy if you allow it, holding onto your hips where the slits of the dress show off your skin. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck just over the collar. Halsin always loves getting to see more of your skin, and this dress is certainly showing it off.

In general, he is a big believer in wearing whatever you want and enjoying it. He's hardly going to get jealous about others getting to admire you, so long as he's allowed to look as much as he pleases as well.

Even better, when you still have water clinging too you after being healed, dripping down your skin and making the dress cling even tighter.

You'll have him pressed up to your back to murmur in your ear about what he would like to do to you the moment you can both slip away.

And once you get the chance, he'll be between your thighs with the skirt pushed up around your hips. And you'll get to see just how long he can gold off before tearing the dress off of you completely.

Gale

"Oh! Yes, well, um, you look lovely! That sure does, well, show off your figure. Hmm. Yes."

This man is bright red and cannot look away from you. Yes, he can be blatant in his own flirting, but you make his brain shut down sometimes. And in this dress? Oh Gods

He is trying so incredibly hard to be a gentleman. He is NOT staring at your legs or the cut out in the back of the dress or how much it reveals of your chest or the way it clings to you as close as he wants to be. He is definitely not thinking about any of that. He missed his spell for unrelated reasons.

Show off in front of him, put yourself in his line of sight constantly. He will be going insane trying to stay polite and focused. And it's always a fun game to see if you can make him trail off in the middle of a monologue about magic.

Gale will spend an entire day suffering and watching you and trying not to say anything about it, but the moment the party breaks camp, he is dragging you into his tent to show you just how much he likes this dress on you.

You've left him so pent up after the whole day. He can't get enough of you, touching and grabbing and kissing you like you're the air he needs to survive.

The dress stays on until he's made sure you are both fully sated for the night. And he swears that if you wear it again he won't be so patient.

And if he's going to make a promise like that, he shouldn't be surprised when you wear it the next day.

Astarion

"Ohoho, please do say you're all dressed up for me, love."

He thinks this is delightful and would do the same thing if he could find something flattering enough.

Trying to tease him with it? No, that's his game. He's teasing you by letting his hands just barely touch you, appearing behind you to whisper in your ear about how delectable you look. Then slipping away before you can say anything back.

If he's noticing anyone else paying you too much attention, he'll make fun of them for it, but he's also likely to stick closer to your side, his arm around your waist. Showing the world that you're his.

He's the least worked up about the dress, but he likes it when you still stay by his side regardless of how much attention it gets you. He's just as much yours as you are his, and he'll be more than willing to reward you for being such a sweet thing all day.

He wants to see the way the fabric presses into your skin when you arch your back and let him sink his teeth into your neck.

#finnwrites #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin silverbough #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x reader #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion acunin x reader #headcanons

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artethyst · 3 months

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~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~

Eris Vanserra x Rhysand��s Sister! Reader/OC

“Lucien,” Eris growled, stalking over to his sobbing and heavily pregnant mate, his brother could only stand there awkwardly, in a fruitless attempt to soothe her.

“I swear I had no part in this!” The Emissary raised his hands in mock surrender as his sister in law continued to cry, unrelenting tears spilling down her pale cheeks.

Eris sighed, and whilst he wished she would stay inside like the Healers had recommended, he couldn’t deny her anything.

His only request was that his brother chaperone her should she feel restless, especially if he happened to be caught up in meetings he was unable to be in absence of.

Eris gently removed his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders, overly paranoid that she would catch a chill in her weakened state and ignored the way Lucien rolled his eyes at his brother’s worrying.

Lucien knew, beneath everything, the feared High Lord of Autumn was nothing but a softie. A mama’s boy who would do anything for his wife should she merely ask of it.

He was certain Eris would have surrendered even his own crown- the one he had spent centuries suffering for, if it meant she was happy.

“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Lucien was almost just as panicked, knowing whatever was wrong he’d surely be blamed for it.

“Well, we both know how successful you are with the ladies,” Eris drawled and Lucien snarled at the reference to his own mate. “My work is done for the day, you may leave.”

Lucien bowed and sent one lasting gaze at the two of them, admittedly unnerved by her frantic state.

Until recently he had never seen her cry in the many years of knowing her, and whilst he would never admit it out loud, she had always been his favourite member of the Inner Circle.

“My love,” Eris soothed her by playing with her hair, she had found solace against his hard chest as she let out small gasps, taking comfort in his scent as he provided comforting waves of love down the bond. “Tell me, what is making you so upset, hmm?”

His words held no taunt as she sniffled, and he would never tell her that he found it rather endearing how she looked- so vulnerable with her cheeks aflame and violet eyes glossy.

“T-That hawk!” She whimpered, a shaky hand moving to point at the tree before them, and only he could’ve understood her choked out words as they were sobbed into him. “I-It pushed a p-poor baby b-bird out of i-its nest a-and-“ the next part was too horrific for her to say and she cried harder as Eris sighed, stroking the back of her neck.

Oh, for anyone to see her now.

The Crown Princess of the Night Court, feared magic wielder who helped slaughter many in the war and High Lady of Autumn, brought to tears- over a baby bird.

He supposed it had something to do with the little flame growing in her stomach.

“E-Eri I want you to kill it,” the soft tone of her voice betrayed its sentiment as he paused his ministrations for a moment, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Make it p-pay for s-slaughtering that d-defenceless creature!”

He withheld a chuckle at the irony of her demand, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head before adjusting their position so her back was flush against his front.

His chin grazed her scalp as he effortlessly flicked his hand, the unassuming hawk turning to ash in an instant as she watched in satisfaction.

No matter how silly, trivial or frivolous her demand, he would always comply.

“Better now my love?” He crooned as she became giddy, throwing her arms around his neck as he breathed in her scent- a sickly sweet smell of a youngling mixed with his own.

It brought a new possessiveness- pride within him to know she now carried his smell with her, a subtle hint of spice and ember imbedded in her natural twinge of jasmine.

He felt her heart soar as she tugged against his own through the bond, her soft cheek nuzzling against his rough hand which came to gently rub at her damp skin.

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbled, as he unwittingly melted at her words, thinking he might never get used to the love she had shown him- insisted that he deserved.

“You saw me this morning Bunny,” he teased as she pouted.

“That was hours ago!” She insisted guiding his calloused palm to her slightly protruding stomach. “I need you…We need you.”

He couldn’t help a genuine smile overtaking his wry smirk, feeling the life they created flicker beneath their joined hands.

“It seems our little ember agrees,” he mused and despite his biting fear of her upcoming labour, as everyone knew- Fae births were not only extremely rare, but horrifically dangerous, despite it all he was happy.

Despite what having a child would mean, a new threat to him he had no doubt people would take advantage of, he couldn’t help but feel at peace too.

At peace with himself. At peace with his mate and their unborn baby which would soon complete their little makeshift family.

#eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris x oc #eris vanserra x oc #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #eris vandaddy #acotar fic #fanfic

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astarioffsimpmain · 6 months

Text

Consternation

Astarion x F!Reader

Warnings: Explicit violence; gore; mentions of abuse

Synopsis: Astarion realizes that Cazador is no longer his worst fear

Author's Note: This is my first ever Astarion fic, and I have to thank the members of the Astarion fandom that I have met thus far. This fic would not exist without your encouragment. <3

It was foreign to him, this fear. This icy chill that rattled his bones struck him deep at the core and unsettled him in a way that had him desperate to both pace ceaselessly and never move again. Oh, he had felt fear. It had been his constant companion since he was taken by Cazador; often his only companion as he writhed in the dark, his eyes open but nothing behind them.

But this…

He watched as Karlach carried you back to the campsite. You were bloodied almost beyond recognition, your heartbeat barely reaching his sensitive ears. It was his fault. You and he had argued last night; it was petty. He had been petty. He used the words that he knew would hurt you, and you, too spent after a grueling day to see through his act, had retreated to your own tent to seek out sleep in painful solitude. But sleep had not come. He'd seen it in your eyes this morning when you emerged from your tent, squinting and glaring up at the sun as though it was your enemy, and not his.

And when you, he, and Karlach had gone out in search of food and firewood, you had been too slow, too fatigued, and too distracted to guard yourself from the attack. Orcs. They were a vicious bunch, springing on the three of you from the thicket near the base of the mountain range where you hunted, and while he and Karlach had suffered several minor injuries before winning out, you took a blow far more damaging. One of the orcs had taken you by surprise and bludgeoned you in the side of the head with its club before gaining the upper hand and stepping down hard on your ribs.

He'd been focused on the orc in front of him until he heard the crunch. The sound was so grotesquely familiar to him that time nearly stopped as he swiveled his head in your direction. No. You lay flat on your back, your body bent in several unnatural directions, as the orc stood over you triumphantly, raising its club to finish the job. Your head lolled to the side and your unharmed eye met his and he shuddered, his breath catching in his throat. You didn't look scared. You didn't even look angry. He knew that expression. He'd seen it on your beautiful face as the moon bathed you in ethereal glow, the night he confessed his feelings to you. The night he surrendered his mask of flippant indifference and let you see him for who… for what he truly is. You had looked at him with such- such love, that night, so much that he thought he wouldn't be able to bear it.

But now? Now he would trade the air in his lungs and every day of freedom he had left to be there with you on that night again. He would rather surrender himself to his master than watch you die because of him, and still look at him with love.

It wasn't even him that had managed to save you in the end. It was Karlach, who had all but rammed the orc off of the top of you before gathering you up in her arms and running back towards camp. He had stood in a useless, pitiful daze, and had your tiefling companion not been there to end the last of the orcs before saving you, he would have been quick to join you at death's door. He remained useless as he followed Karlach back to the camp where Wyll, Shadowheart and Gale rushed off in the directions of their tents to see if they had something that could help you. Lae'zel had let out a bloodthirsty cry upon seeing you, demanding the blood of whoever or whatever had attacked you. Once Karlach told her the story, she posted herself at the edge of the campground, circling to prevent any more surprises.

Everyone was doing something. Everyone but him. All he could do was sit beside you with his cool hands running over your body, trying desperately to cool you down. Your face was marred nearly beyond recognition, and the blood from your internal wounds had begun to pool just below the surface of the skin on your abdomen, creating angry violet spots all over your soft and beautiful body; the body he had held bare against his not too long ago; the heart he promised to love as wholly and genuinely as he was capable, beating far too weakly inside your chest. Guilt twisted further inside of him. If only he was strong, like you believed he was. If only Cazador didn't haunt his every moment. If only he was truly as free as you made him feel. Perhaps if he was better, stronger, more, he wouldn't have said those things to you. He wouldn't have hurt you, and instead of a sleepless night alone, you could have been wrapped up in him.

But he was foolish; weak; less. And he let his pain seep out like a fresh wound onto you, and now you suffered for it. Up until this very moment he had been under the false illusion that being sent back to Cazador was the worst fate he could possibly endure. How many times did he have to be proven wrong by you before he would listen?! Losing you was the fear he never expected. Losing you was far worse than losing himself, and the realization of that only deepened the already gripping dread in his heart.

"Please," he whispered softly, leaning over your unmoving form. "Please, gods, stay alive. Even if you hate me forever, please stay alive. Please." His voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek and collided with yours. His body trembled as he prayed to gods he wasn't even sure he believed in, wishing for a miracle he didn't really think could happen. What would he do without you? He always insisted that he was his own person, but… was he? Or had he just traded one master for another; the first a master of his body, and the second a master of his heart?

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion angst #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction

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metanarrates · 3 months

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ugh anthy is so good. nearly every single other story I've seen about a Mysterious and Tragic teenage girl has failed in some way either because the writer forgot to give the character complexity and an internal life, or because the tragic things in her life were far too aestheticized to have real teeth. anthy succeeds as a character largely because the whole story is dedicated to deconstructing an aestheticized view of her & her suffering, and also showing how that aestheticized view dehumanizes her and denies her agency. she is not a harmless victim or a beautifully agonized one - she is a teenage girl who is reacting in realistic, complex ways to a lifetime of crushing systemic abuses. and similarly, every teenage girl around her is also reacting in complex ways to their own suffering under patriarchy.

depiction of sad teenage girls often posit their pain as a natural phenomenon, something that is just intrinsic to girlhood. adding a layer of mystique onto them just further serves to obfuscate the sources of teen girl suffering. instead, teenage girl pain becomes palatable. consumable, even. #aesthetic. these depictions are unthreatening because, by their nature, they cannot depict societal issues in a way that would demand a restructuring of society. we can posit a familial tragedy but not a tragedy of the family structure. we can lament a beautifully mentally ill sufferer but not the systems of wellness and community that failed her. et cetera. nothing can ever hold up an uncomfortable mirror, only a flattering one.

revolutionary girl utena directly says that that idea is bullshit and that its teenage girls are suffering as a direct result of entrenched systematic oppression. and in that uncomfortable honesty, it's able to be WAY more authentically hopeful with its sad teenage girls. anthy is able to finally walk out of the society that trapped her and live freely of the image that was constructed around her! she can be a flawed human girl who is still going to be happy with her girlfriend! her victimhood is not eternal and does not mean she can never find happiness! A TEEN GIRL DOES NOT HAVE TO STAY IN A COFFIN IN ORDER TO DESERVE COMPASSION!!!!

#narrates #rgu #my chat and i have been discussing the virgin suicides (ive never seen the movie but apparently its quite influential in some spheres)#and it just makes me think about how much i loathe most depictions of Suffering Girlhood TM #shut up about girlhood shut up about girlhood!!!!!!! watch rgu. suffering is not just a Girlhood Condition.

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rosexxi · 11 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write sick Theodore nott x hufflepuff reader and the reader has to take care of him if not that’s fine just wondering. Have a great day/night 💓

Stubborn boy 💛💤

Theodore's not used to someone caring for him

fluff // t.n x hufflepuff! reader

"He's so stubborn" Draco complained to you.

You were currently sat in your Charms lesson, but the sight of Theodore sat in the corner of the room made it hard to concentrate. He was clearly ill. His under eyes dark, his nose red, and his usually tidy hair, messy and unkempt. Though he would never admit it, Theodore Nott was suffering from a cold. As Draco had said, he was incredibly stubborn.

"Well has he not gone to Madame Pomfrey?" you questioned. It was still early days in your relationship with Theodore, and there was still yet much to know about him, one of which being his stubbornness.

"Have you met Nott? He doesn't believe in the hospital wing, we had to drag him there when he broke his arm in quidditch practise. Just help him." Draco's tone was one that was quite demanding, but Draco's tone was the last thing on your mind. Theodore was clearly ill and you desperately wanted him to feel better.

So when lunch came, you turned to Neville, "I think he has a cold but I'm not entirely sure, I haven't properly seen him since two days ago and looking back I'm sure he had a headache then as well."

"Hmm," Neville thank aloud, "I can give you a few herbs that'll make him feel better, but I'm sure rest will be enough as well."

You thanked Neville, taking the herbs from him and went to your next lesson, but when you didn't see Theo outside early as usual, you took off for his dorm room.

"I'm coming I'm coming." Theodore sounded irritated as you knocked on his door, but his expression softened when he saw you stood outside. He looked worse than before, dressed in a large t shirt and pyjama pants.

"Oh." he simply stated, "What are you doing here?" he asked, making way for you to enter the room.

"I'm here to look after you Theo, you're clearly not feeling well," you declared as you placed the bags of herbs on his desk and adjusted his pillows. You turned to face him, pointing at the bed as though expecting him to get in. But he just stared blankly at you.

"I'm fine, you didn't need to come here, you should be in class." he plainly said, crossing his arms and looking off into the corner of the room. He looked grumpy, and if you weren't currently concerned for his wellbeing, you would laugh at how cute he was.

You approached him, "Theo, don't be stubborn and let me help you," you said softly, placing a hand on his forehead before uncrossing his arms to hold his hands. He still refused to look at you, still sniffling despite his claims he was 'fine'.

"I'm fine. I was just gonna get some sleep, I don't need you to baby me."

"Ok I won't, just come get in bed for me please."

He rolled his eyes, muttering something about how pointless this was, but when his eyes met yours and he saw your sweet smile, he gave in.

"Fine," he huffed, "But I'm not taking any shit you give me."

He got into bed, raising an eyebrow at you when you didn't follow him, but instead disappeared into the bathroom. You came back out, with a cold towel. He immediately shook his head, "Absolutely not y/n."

"Come on Theo, you're clearly not feeling well, let me take care of you, it'll make me feel better," you tried to reason with him, but Draco was right, he was being incredibly stubborn. He sat up in his bed, rubbing his temple with his hand, "No, I am perfectly ok, I don't need you to come and baby me and make a big deal out of nothing." His voice raised slightly.

He immediately regretted his words after seeing your defeated state. Apologising profusely as you turned to leave, "No baby, don't go I'm sorry, I'm just not used to people taking care of me. Please don't go."

You turned back to face him, "Ok I forgive you, but please be quiet and let me treat you."

"Yes nurse", he smiled, bringing his hands to hold and caress your waist. He willingly took the herbs and drank the tea you had prepared for him, though he did pull a few distasteful faces.

"I'm not pitying you, Theo. I just don't want you to be in pain." you said barely above a whisper as he drank his tea.

"It's not you y/n, I appreciate everything you do for me, baby. I'm just not used to people looking after me like you do. You're too nice to me" He sent you a reassuring smile.

He lied down when he had finished as you instructed, holding one of your hands as you placed the cold towel onto his forehead and a kiss on his cheek.

"Better?" you asked quietly.

"So much", he admitted as he closed his eyes and placed a kiss on your hand, taking in the cold temperature on his forehead.

"See I told you, don't be so stubborn and trust me."

"I'm sorry princess, been so good to me," he muttered, "you gonna get in bed with me now?"

You smiled to yourself, getting in bed next to him to hold him.

He turned to quickly peck your lips, and before you knew it, his breathing became heavier, indicating he was asleep.

"You're looking much better Nott." Professor Flitwick had said in Charms the next day.

"Thank you sir, had a good nurse." he replied, turning back in his chair to smile at you

#harry potter imagine #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter masterlist #harry potter fluff #harry potter

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odinsonslut · 1 year

Text

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n: I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm.

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated.

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued.

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself.

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention.

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond.

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.”

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

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ellionwrites · 5 months

Text

If Geto and Gojo were so close, why didn't Geto try to convince Gojo to defect with him?

Because Geto knew that Gojo’s support would guarantee his success, but that success would come at the cost of hurting Gojo.

I believe that Geto cared more about protecting Gojo than he cared about building a better world.

Let me explain…

First, let’s talk about why it would’ve made sense for Geto to ask Gojo to join him:

(1) Gojo would’ve been Geto’s most important / most powerful ally

By the time of Geto’s defection, Gojo is already the strongest sorcerer in existence. He and Geto are two of only three special grade sorcerers. Having them both on the same side is essentially an automatic win.

(2) Gojo should’ve been (relatively) easy to persuade

Gojo had already told Geto that he didn't like having to save the weak and didn't care about the moral justifications for it…

…Geto has also seen that Gojo doesn’t always value / protect human life. He was ready to massacre the Time Vessel Association without reason, but ultimately he didn't, because he deferred to Geto's judgement…

…and, most importantly, they are best friends on a DEEP, unparalleled level. Geto is Gojo’s “one and only” best friend.

If Geto was truly dedicated to changing the world order, Gojo should’ve been the first and most important person that he tried to recruit to his insurgency / cult / mission.

BUT

Not only does Geto make zero effort to reach out to / recruit Gojo, he actively avoids him and pushes him away...

- - - - - Keep reading cut - - - - -

After he kills the 112 non-sorcerers, Geto runs into Shoko in Shinjuku. He happily approaches her and willingly answers her questions.

Look at his smiling face in their interactions:

But, when Shoko calls Gojo, Geto leaves before Gojo shows up. Gojo tracks him down anyway and demands an explanation. Geto still doesn’t want to talk about it (“You already heard it.”)

It's strange, right? Geto loves talking about his vision of a better world with everyone else.

Then, there is this confusing progression of dialog:

Geto is hurt/annoyed that Gojo doesn’t believe in him, so he points out that Gojo’s argument against his plan is invalid. The plan is possible (“You could do it”), therefore (according to Gojo’s own logic) it’s not “pointless.”

In a way, Geto is admitting that he knows it would make the most sense for Gojo to join him.

But before Gojo can respond, Geto pivots to saying something extremely hurtful. He's questioning who Gojo is / would be if he wasn't the strongest. Is there really anything more to him? (See more detail in my post here).

Then, in the very next panel Geto turns and starts walking away.

In summary: (1) Geto avoids Gojo, (2) Geto only argues in favor of his plan when Gojo forces/baits him, (3) Upon invalidating Gojo’s opposition to his plan, Geto immediately puts emotional distance between them, (4) Geto then puts physical distance between them.

Why is Geto trying so hard to make sure that Gojo won’t follow him?

Is he just being prideful about doing this on his own? Is he so angry at Gojo's arrogance that he'd jeopardize the success of his life's mission over it?

These arguments aren't in line with Geto's characterization / known motivations (see the end of this post, if you're interested in more on that.)

Geto's main motivation is (a twisted form of) compassion. He wants to end the suffering of sorcerers.

He is a thoughtful, contemplative person, and would've thought about the ramifications of recruiting Gojo.

What are the ramifications?

If Gojo joins the cause, Geto’s plan would succeed, but Gojo would suffer for it.

Like anyone who joins Geto's cult, Gojo would become a pariah / fugitive from Jujutsu society. He’d kill people. He’d kill other sorcerers.

But because Gojo has the singular level of strength/ability to kill non-sorcerers en masse, he would commit the vast majority (or all) of the murder / destruction. The legal, social, and mental impacts would be most severe on Gojo.

(Also, at this point, I think Geto may still question whether he’s made the right choice. It’s difficult to go from a hardline stance on protecting non-sorcerers to wanting to gen0c1de them, within the span of a year, without any lingering ethical qualms. So he may be worried about moral costs to Gojo as well.)

Let’s remember that Geto (canonically) deeply loves Gojo. Gojo is his one and only best friend. Geto worries about Gojo when he overworks himself protecting Riko. Geto is shocked when Toji kills Riko in front of him, but he only flies into a rage when he thinks Toji has killed Gojo. (Again, see my post here for more on how much Geto loves Gojo).

So, it makes sense that Geto is ready to make sacrifices to create a better world, but it’s a cost he’s willing to put on his own head. Not Gojo's.

Ultimately, Geto cares more about Gojo than he cares about achieving the mission he has dedicated his life to.

The last thing Geto says to him is this:

What he's really asking Gojo is: "Have you stopped loving me, now that I've committed myself to this dark path? Would you kill me to save them?"

If Gojo hates Geto enough that he’d kill him, then Geto never had a chance of recruiting Gojo in the first place.

Of course, Gojo can’t make himself hurt Geto. He still loves Geto too much.

Geto protected Gojo by pushing him away.

___

Addendum:

I'll also argue against two other possible explanations for Geto's behavior.

(1) Geto is jealous / prideful /wants to build his own legacy without Gojo stealing the spotlight

Geto has clear motivations for his goals and they’re not egotistical. He wants to end the suffering of sorcerers caused by non-sorcerers’ existence (e.g., Riko’s death, Mimiko & Nanako’s abuse).

Geto’s pride isn’t hurt when Gojo becomes the strongest. The only thing that bothers Geto is that they’re getting sent on separate missions.

After Gojo becomes stronger that him, Geto still has overt affection for Gojo (e.g., he asks Haibara to bring back sweets from his mission so he can share with Gojo).

Although Geto does believe in his superiority over non-sorcerers, he doesn't feel superior over other sorcerers and doesn't struggle with his 'inferiority' to Gojo.

Does Gojo’s lack of faith in Geto’s ability (calling his goal “impossible”), spur Geto to want to prove himself? Yes, probably. But Geto had already been avoiding Gojo before he said that. And I don’t believe that wanting to prove himself to Gojo would overshadow his stronger motivation to build a better world for sorcerers.

(2) He thinks Gojo actually is too moral to join him

After Geto kills the 112 non-sorcerers, Gojo is shocked and upset by what’s happened, but not once does he insult Geto or imply that Geto has done something unforgivable. In fact, he’s practically begging Geto to explain himself because he wants to be able to justify his actions. And, again, Gojo’s argument against Geto’s plan is NOT that “it’s wrong,” it’s that “it’s impossible.”

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