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#thr — on your left.
rowonlgc · 1 month
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         on your left       ( w. ) @hyunsoolgc   
  catching hyunsoo during his morning run has become something akin to a routine. a courteous nod here, some small talk there, that’s really the extent of their interactions – but rowon still finds himself looking forward to it, if not for the familiar face, then for the random question he occasionally poses in ( futile ) attempts to get to know hyunsoo. it’s a curious case. most people enjoy talking about themselves, oftentimes offering up information without him prompting. but hyunsoo is closed book, and his pages seem to be glued shut.
  that just makes rowon all the more intrigued.
  he’s coming up with a list of questions – how hyunsoo takes his coffee, does he have any siblings, has he played this new so and so game ( a good friend of mine was talking about it ; it’s never a name and always a ‘good friend’ ) – when he spots the man of the hour on the trail up ahead. a shadow of a smile rides his lips as he steadily picks up his pace. closer and closer, closer and closer –
  “on your left!” he gives a hard, encouraging smack to hyunsoo’s back as he whizzes past.
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queerlyloud · 7 months
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Having spicy, unpopular, aggressively pro-Bilbo opinions tonight, but being a good fandom citizen by leaving them in the drafts
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amsentimental · 8 months
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State fair makes everyone go bat shit crazy imagine saying that n its Texas
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i-bring-crack · 9 months
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Bitches be coming out unscathed of supposedly certain death scenarios simply because they were very very dumb.
I'm bitches.
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doux-amer · 1 year
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I can’t believe it took me until 2022 to finally understand Andrew Garfield’s appeal... I thought he was cute like a deer, and then I was just neutral about him beyond “seems like a nice guy. Also seems like he’s very enthusiastic and he’s straddling that cute eager puppy and annoying theater kid line closely once in a while for me” in the later years. But then something clicked last year? And then the Golden Globes flirting this year????? I’m not sure what, but I think I can see the attractiveness.
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geronimomo-spd · 2 years
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i am having thoughts again, so i just gotta ask, if you could make a whole season of a story out of one episode of doctor who, which would it be and why? write in the tags!
@the-book-life-chose-me
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insomtiny · 1 year
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it'd be sooo insane if my brother never talked to me again just because i said slay
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thatnamelessbutler · 2 years
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((ooc: I just imagined people continually thinking Bu and Roxy are in a romantic relationship so one time Bu, with minimal amounts of planning beforehand, gets down on one knee and pulls out the first shiny thing he sees in his inventory and just goes "Roxanne LoMary will you be my bestie forever?" And she goes "OMG YES <<<3" and they hug and leave everyone super confused and it's hilarious
People congratulate them on their.... marriage??? No one really knows??? They never act on it past that but also now I'm imagining Bu forgetting they did that and someone going "so how's the wife?" And they're like "I have a wife??" And then Roxy comes along and it's "revealed" and they're like "YOU'RE MY WIFE??"
It's a very funny scenario to play with overall
Jokingly being "married"))
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epaetaeya · 2 months
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... ive been sick for a week and got my period and my brain and rest of my body is mush but i need to be sad about toys for a sec
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Whatever XLM I'm paying for the roof over your head.
Just think about giving it a nice lick underwater (if your mouth is able etc)
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asteriuszenith · 3 months
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Sometimes grief really just hits you out of nowhere
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imwritesometimes · 1 year
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why does every mascara that isn't Urban Decay suck fuckin evil monster dick
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ace-with--a-mace · 1 year
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tormented by 1 of the 7 plagues
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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✎ protect
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- gojo satoru x reader
the word “protect” now means so much more to him
genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader
note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.
Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.
But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.
Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.
After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.
And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.
“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.
You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."
He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.
"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"
To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.
"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."
A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.
Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.
"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."
He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.
"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"
Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.
“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.
“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.
Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."
"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."
He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.
"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."
And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.
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Epilogue - on the night of the birth -
“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”
Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”
Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.
“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”
“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”
“Then what are you?!”
“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”
“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”
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lokis-army-77 · 9 months
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A request for you: hugging best friend!Eddie and he pops a boner. Do what you will with this information. - @munson-blurbs 💚
Recipes for Romance
Bestfriend!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 2.1k
When your best friend comes home while you're cooking dinner and something happens. . .
Warning: 18+. Oral (m receiving), gagging, choking, masturbation, cum swallowing
Thank you @munson-blurbs for sending this in.. I do believe this is the best BJ I've written 💗💗.
Masterlist
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It's funny how love happens. One minute you're friends with someone and then the next, you realize something fundamental in your relationship has changed. No longer were you childhood best friends living together in a small, two-bedroom apartment trying to make a place for yourselves in this world. Now, you were childhood best friends who live together but one of you has an unrequited crush on the other. 
Simple chores around the house and just hanging out with one another have turned into something more domestic on your end. You could see yourself coming home to him so easily. 
Really, what would change if you were to tell him? Nothing, other than he would kiss you when you came home instead of only giving you a hug and asking what was on the menu for dinner that night. 
That's where you were tonight. In the kitchen, chopping up ingredients for dinner like usual, thanks to Eddie's lack of expertise in anything other than pizza rolls and microwavable macaroni cups. If it had been left up to him both of you probably would have starved by now. 
It was nearing eight when Eddie strolled through the apartment door, guitar slung on his back and an amp being hoisted up in his arms. Oh, those arms. He was wearing a black muscle shirt, perfect for the summer heat and showing off the delicious-looking veins that protrude from them. 
“Hey, Eds!” You call out to him. 
He grumbles out, “Hey,” in response, and fumbles with his things all the way down the hallway behind you, to your right, and into his room. 
It’s a few moments and chopped cilantro later that you hear his bare feet padding back to where you are. 
“How was your day?” The question comes out smoothly, without a thought, because you had been asking him this same thing forever. 
“Good," he answers. “I’m exhausted.” 
“Well, it’s a good thing dinner's almost ready, then you can go to bed.” You move about the small rectangular kitchen area with the grace that comes with knowing the area like the back of your hand. 
You’re stirring the warming spaghetti sauce so that it doesn’t burn to the bottom of the pan when you feel those same bare arms you had been lustfully gazing at only a short while before reaching around your hips. You stop, freezing your movements to focus on how not to let Eddie feel the racing of your heart. 
His chin rests on your shoulder and his hair tickles your neck. “Smells good,” he mumbles. 
You blush. You know he’s talking about the food but you wish he were talking about you. It was always nerve-wracking for you when he got clingy like this. Knowing you couldn’t just relax into him how you wanted. Having to hold yourself back from turning your head and giving him a peck on the lips. 
Eddie continued to watch you cook, nuzzling his nose deeper into the crook of your neck. You were hyper-aware of his lips on your bare skin and you were even more aware of growing hardness pressing against your ass. 
Your face heats up even more as you think to yourself, ‘Why god? Why do this to me?’ It’s a struggle to keep stirring the food when all your attention is focused on your best friend's dick. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, the movement has Eddie humming into your neck and making him harden even more. 
One of his hands unwraps from around you and grips your hip. You can feel his breathing becoming more labored as he struggles behind you. 
You reposition yourself once more, this time pushing back into him just a little. Eddie can’t catch the strangled moan that flies up from his throat. 
“Fuck.” His lips move across your skin like a hot branding iron, saying your name breathlessly. 
“Eddie?” You question innocently. 
“Hum?” He replies. 
You push the saucepan back onto a cool part of the stovetop and turn the once-in-use eye off. 
“Are you…” You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud, but he knows your silent query. 
It takes him a moment to say anything. He swallows hard and nods. “Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hip with his large hand and begins to back away. 
“Wait!” Your voice is louder than you had anticipated it to be but the urgency in it stops Eddie before he is fully separated from you. “Eddie, wait,” you say much softer this time. 
He stops, the tips of his fingers barely touching you. You turn around in his light hold, eyes staring up into his. Your heart is beating a mile a minute as you say, “I can help with that y’know.” 
Eddie sputters, seemingly choking on air. “W-what?” His face blushed a deep red and it flushed all the way down his neck.
Taking a breath, you try and calm yourself down. Those six words can’t be taken back now, but why would you want to do that anyway? The thought of his hard cock filling your mouth was the only thing running through your mind and now that a chance had arisen, you were going to take it. 
“I said,” You trail your hand down down down until you are cupping him over his jeans. “I can help with that… Unless you don’t want me to.” 
Eddie’s eyes go wide and he opens and closes his mouth like he’s trying to find the words to say only to be left mute. Instead, he nods his head, letting his curls cover his face. 
You turn your bodies, pushing him up against the counter, and with less practiced grace than moving about the kitchen, you begin to undo his pants. His breath catches and he looks away from you for only a moment when your hand dips past the waistband of his pants. 
“Oh god-” He swallows. 
Ever so slowly you begin your descent to your knees, taking his pants and boxers down with you. The sight left before you makes your mouth water and your legs clench. He looks painfully hard, the tip flush and a bead of pre-cum pooling at the slit. You ached to run your tongue over the vein protruding down his shaft, you needed to have his balls in your mouth. 
So, that’s what you do. From base to tip you lick a fat, wet strip up him. His hips jerk forward, one hand caught in your hair, and the other holds on for dear life to the edge of the counter. You lick again and again, over and over. 
“Fuck-,” your name falls from Eddie's lips in a whimper. That sound had your stomach flipping and your pussy fluttering. You needed him to do that again.  
You start to pepper kisses along his shaft, ending at his head and giving it one big smooch before opening and taking him into your mouth. 
Eddie tugs on your hair at the first experimental suck that you give him. You can't help but moan at the slight pain. Taking him a bit more you suck again, gentle and with little force. 
"Ah-." There it was, that whiny sound. 
You bring your hand up to wrap around the length of him not nestled in the warmth of your mouth. Giving him a firm squeeze you begin to move. Up and down, up and down. You follow your hand with your mouth. 
The hot and tangy taste of him spreads across your tongue and pre-cum just dribbles out of him. Really, it makes you salivate, it makes you wet. And what really turns you on is knowing that this is your best friend. This is the guy you've known since forever. The guy you never thought you would ever be doing this with. 
It made you hungry for more, needy, and unsatisfied. You dip your head further down, lips meeting your fingers at his base.
"Oh God. Oh fuck." Another strangled whimper followed by the prettiest grunts and groans. Your other hand, resting on Eddie's thigh, could feel how his leg tensed with every suck, with every nudge of the back of your throat. Then he jerked forward again. His cock buries deep into your throat.
You choke and gag around him, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and falling down your neck. Tears sting in your eyes but you let him thrust into you. 
Eddie says your name like a prayer. It flows from his lips in a melody only for you. He’s got your hair fisted in his hand, fingers digging into your skull. Your own fingers dig into his strong thighs. Then, he lets you go and you pull away fast for air. A string of drool connects your lips to his cock. 
“Eddie,” You say as you look up at him through thick lashes and heavy eyes. 
“Mmm.” He hums, head falling to the side. 
“You taste so good. Want you to cum down my throat.” 
He looks down at you in such a way that you think you can see something other than love for a friend. Something more potent, something like what you feel for him. It makes the breath catch in your lungs. 
Eddie releases his grasp on your hair and smooths his hand down and onto your cheek. His thumb rubs light circles into your skin. You lean in more, scooting closer to him on your knees, ignoring the numbness in them. 
The cheek he isn’t touching rests on his thigh and you continue to look up at him as you take his cock fully in your hand and start pumping. 
Eddie bites his lip but that doesn’t stop the moans. “God damnit, baby…” 
He’s never called you that before. Sure a pet name here and there, sweetheart or something of the sort, but never baby. The name had you aching with need and it only took a few more high-pitched whimpers from Eddie to have you shoving your other hand down your shorts. 
You were drenched, wetness pooled in your panties and around your fingers as you swiped them through your folds. You trail your lips down to his balls and kiss them before sucking one into your mouth. 
There is a moment when you think Eddie is going to fall on top of you. You feel his knees buckle and his feet shuffling to keep himself upright. 
You let go of him with a pop and then take the other into your mouth, warming him and running your tongue over the skin. 
“Fuck fuck fuck. Baby- mmm,” Eddie can’t keep quiet and you don’t want him to. The louder he is, the more it encourages you. 
After a few more pumps of your hand, you move your mouth back to the tip of his cock and take him deep. This time when he hits the back of your throat, you don’t gag as bad but tears still swell in your eyes. You let him buck his hips into you, following his rough pace with your hand as you rub your fingers into your clit. 
“Gonna cum baby, fuck gonna make me cum. Such a pretty mouth." Eddie blubbers. "Fuck I love you, baby. Gonna fill that mouth up. You gonna swallow all of it, baby?"
You hum around his cock at his words. Heart beating faster and safer as your own orgasm begins to come forward. 
With a hand buried in your hair again. Eddie pushes you down onto his cock, nose pressed against his abdomen and drool spilling down your chin. You feel him twitch and watch through tear-rimmed eyes as his head falls back and his mouth hangs open. Eddie lets out the most lewd-sounding moan as he releases his sticky, hot cum down your throat. 
You swallow and swallow, consuming all that he gives you. Your hand still works between your thighs and in a gush of pleasure, you can feel your release dripping over your fingers. 
Pulling away from Eddie, his cock now softening, you catch your breath. You move to sit more comfortably on the floor and lean your forehead on Eddie's left knee. 
"Wow…" Eddie heaves out. "That was- that was fucking amazing." His grip eases in your hair and then he's adjusting himself back into his pants before sitting on the floor with you. 
"Look at me?" He asks. You're avoiding eye contact with him, embarrassment of the actions and words just exchanged flooding through you. 
"Sweetheart, please look at me." He pleaded.
That name had you looking timidly through your hair. Those big, brown eyes caught yours and in that moment you knew that another fundamental piece of your relationship had changed. 
No longer was it two childhood best friends living together with one having a crush on the other. No. It was now two childhood best friends who loved each other in every way, who were once too scared to say anything lest they break up the friendship. 
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g0dlyunsub · 25 days
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stitch me.
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you were assigned to negotiate with an unsub keeping a group of females hostage, or so you thought. turns out he has a partner and he’s determined to destroy you, all in front of spencer.
pairing :: spencer x fem!reader
warnings :: lots of physical violence, blood, mentions of murder, knife threats, biting, general criminal minds themes.
word count :: 1.8k
author’s note :: so… this is my first post, like ever. sorry if it’s poorly written, but i’m all for slightly (?) protective reid and just wanted to write about him :3 accompanying song :: savior by novulent
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you knew something was more than just off the moment you were violently thrown into the room. the hostages were huddled near the left corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you as their shoulders shook in panic.
but the hostages were all supposed to be women. brunettes. young women in their twenties. so why was there a young man among them? there was no mention of a young man reported missing in the case files or when garcia had compiled the final list of hostages, so who was he?
must’ve been a gap in the reports, you shook your head and tried to get up, but your left cheek met the cold concrete ground once again.
“don’t move, sweetheart.” his knife was positioned at the nape of your throat, and you felt your breaths become more jagged, more erratic.
“listen, i swear i’ll make it up to you i never-“ your breath gets caught in your throat when the blade presses ever so slightly into your skin.
“shut your pretty little mouth. i know who you are, an undercover cop. if you think you’re so smart coming in here without your wire and gun, you should be prepared for the consequences.” he spits the words with a nasty drawl.
you barely have any time to respond as he lifts you up by the back of your shirt and drags you to an adjacent room. he grabs a fistful of your hair and throws you to the ground forcefully.
“all the other girls in there, they’re nothing compared to you. i’ll take my time with you, sweetheart”. he approaches you while cracking his knuckles and waving his knife around menacingly.
“who’s the boy?” your voice comes out with a slight quiver, but you’re determined not to sound scared. the man lets out a bellowing laugh in response, examining his knife in one hand.
“that’s my buddy jack. you cops surely would have done your research, right?” his hand is now gloved around your throat, and you struggle to loosen his grip with your arms.
this killer had a partner sitting right between the hostages and you and your team had completely missed the signs.
but the adrenaline must have kicked in at the right timing, since you manage to knock your head back into his face and quickly swivel to deliver a kick into his shins and bring him to his knees before he has any time to react with his knife. then you strike him unconscious with a swift elbow to his temple.
you barely have any time to recover, however, when a blow hits the back of your head and your world comes spinning down. before your eyelids slowly close, you manage to steal a glance at the perpetrator — the male hostage had knocked you with a bat and was now trying to shake his unconscious partner awake.
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when you open your eyes, you can’t move. your arms are tied behind your back, and your legs are tightly trapped behind the legs of the chair with knots of rope. you were in the main room now with all of the other hostages, and the former hostage was on the ground, still trying to shake his partner awake.
“look what you’ve done, you stupid brat. i swear if you’ve killed him i'm going to SLIT YOUR THR-“ the crescendo of his voice halts with the abrupt ring of the telephone hanging on the wall. he huffs and makes his way to the phone, never losing his eye contact with you. you try to wrestle against the ropes, but your efforts are useless and your energy is at an all time low.
it was your team on the other end. they must have figured out that it was a team of two and not just one.
“your stupid cop knocked samuel cold and split his skin open. send me a medic and maybe i won’t kill all of them here”. jack’s tone is agitated, threatening, and also lost. now that his commander wasn’t in charge, he didn’t know what to do with the hostages, let alone you.
you can barely decipher hotch’s words as they filter through the noise of the phone. “release the women, and i’ll send you all the medical attention you need. we’ll make sure samuel gets the stitches.” his voice is level and controlled. you’ve always trusted hotch and you’ve always trusted your team, but you couldn’t help but let a sliver of anxiousness cloud your thoughts.
and oh god, spencer. how would he cope when you were gone? how would he react at the sight of your cold body, drowned in the blood of the other hostages? tears fill your eyes and you make a poor attempt to swallow them back.
just as you think of your boyfriend, you hear his name through the phone.
“we're going to send in doctor spencer reid to have a look at samuel, alright jack? i want you to let the women go first. the sooner you do this, the sooner samuel gets his help”.
no. no, no, no. NO.
you squirm in your seat, trying to divert jack’s attention.
“wait-“ you try to shout, before jack cuts you off: “SHUT UP! this is all your fault!” he rolls his eyes before he turns around. jack’s knuckles had turned white, maintaining a deathly grip on the telephone.
“fine. but the cop stays with me.” he slams the phone before he rushes back to check on samuel.
the women are released one by one, each frantically making their way out, and you can hear cops outside ushering them and retreating.
it’s only a few minutes later when you hear the familiar sounds of the leather shoes make their way inside of the room. it’s spencer, and he has no wire, no gun, no vest. he’s carrying a medical first aid kit and making his way toward samuel, but not before taking a glance at you.
your world collapses, right there and then. he’s made the same mistake you had by entering without his gun and vest, and you had to give him a signal somehow. if luck was on your side, spencer would make it out alive. but you? your chances are slim.
“hurry up and stitch him up. don’t fuckin look at the other cop.” jack points his knife at spencer, and you let out a hitched yelp. please don’t hurt him. hurt me instead.
spencer gets down to work quickly, examining and tending to the wounds on samuel’s face, and he doesn’t look up in your direction once. jack’s watching him the entire time, tapping his left foot in impatience.
“there. he’s all good, samuel just needs some time to recov-“ spencer raises his arms and turns his back against you, and faces jack as he speaks.
“shut- sit on that chair”. jack motions at spencer to sit down on the chair across from you. you shake your head fervently, yelling constant streams of don’t to him. but he obliges.
“put your arms behind your back,” jack orders, and spencer obliges. you make a desperate attempt and kick at jack to try and distract him. but jack only slaps you in the face with his backhand before aiming the knife at spencer. your boyfriend flinches, and his friendly facade is now masked with a deathly glare.
“don’t move.” jack grabs duct tape and moves swiftly to bind spencer’s hands together behind the chair. you hang your head down. it’s over.
“listen, let spence- let him go. it’s just between you and me, your partner said you only need me”. you shakingly drew in a deep breath as you spoke.
jack chuckles before he makes a step toward you. the next thing you know, he’s grabbed you by the hair and he’s delivering punches left and right, hurling screams of expletives and slurs. he’s lost it. and you were going to die.
he positions the knife at your chest, and you know he'll do it. you know he will drive that blade straight to your skin. straight to your heart.
“STOP. STOP! PLEASE!” you hear spencer rocking his chair forwards, and jack finally stops. you can’t breathe with all the blood pooling in your mouth, and you let the excess drawl out of your lips to land on the floor.
“jack, listen to me, please.” spencer looks at you with pleading eyes, silently signaling you to not move. to not agitate jack further.
“no. samuel said he was gonna kill her and i have to finish what he started for him”. jack leans forward and pulls the collar of your shirt outwards, and bites down on your neck. you let out a painful scream, tears running down your face just as more blood leaves the corner of your lips. spencer thrashes in his chair, trying to shift jack’s attention.
“but i stitched him up. samuel will live. let her go. you can take it out on me.” spencer’s voice is desperate, but there’s a tone of controlled execution, because his voice isn’t quivering like before.
at that instant, doors fling open and less than a millisecond later, jack drops to the ground, his knife toppling down to the floor soon after. the team of cops, along with hotch and rossi, make their way toward you and spencer, untying the knots.
between the yells of “we need a medic” and comforting words of “you’re going to be okay” being uttered left and right, you hear spencer’s voice. it’s seemingly amplified for some reason, and you can’t help but smile. your boyfriend rushes towards you, sweeping your hair and cradling you back and forth in his arms.
“you’re so brave, you’re so brave y/n.” his voice comes out stifled and hoarse, and you feel him grip your hand even tighter.
“i’m so sorry i let you go in there alone. i’m so sorry i let him do that to you, torture you and almost-“ his head buried into the crook of your neck, and he lightly kisses you right above the dried cut where jack had attacked you.
you turn your head ever so slightly to get a better look at spencer. tears coat his eyelashes and his mouth shakes as he talks. a soft groan rolls out from the back of your throat, and you snuggle deeper into spencer’s hold.
“keep… talking. i want… to hear… you.” you manage to let out, and spencer’s eyes widen.
“of course. i can do that. i’ll keep talking to you, y/n. focus on my voice, can you do that?” he asks with a slight squeeze to your palm. you give a slow nod in return.
that’s all he needs, because when the medics transfer you into the ambulance, he’s sitting right beside you, not letting go of your hand, and whispering nothing but bittersweet apologies.
his voice is the only stitch you need.
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