#but i was hoping for it to die down. almost deleted it. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-californicationist · 2 months ago

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Cali Cali bo-bali banana fana fo-fali me my mo mali! Cali!

I'm three Budweisers in and got an itch for alpha Price with a sudden need to breed (yay! Surprise rut!), and there's his sweet smelling omega neighbor who he's been keeping at arm's length because he's a professional dammit and has complete control of his urges, thank you very much.

Honestly, I just wanna see Mr. "I'm Married to My Job" lose it and show back up on base abashed and mated, and also ridiculously proud of his lil omega's claiming bite, because "she turned into a wildcat, lads. I couldn't stop her." *wink-wink*

Or not. I'm happy with any smutty Price fic you bestow on us, really. I'm just being weirdly specific because— alcohol = horny thots. 🍺😏🥴🫠

Drunken hugs 🫂 from Random Thot

RTG!! You are the most amazing person, and every time I see your pfp on AO3 or tumblr, I just get all gooey inside. Thank you for the ask! I wrote (and fully deleted) this fic three times because I wanted to get it right. I just pray that I could deliver. <3 <3 Hope this is what you were hoping for!!

MDNI/NSFW -- TW: damsel in distress, ABO dynamics, knotting, fuck-or-die scenarios, CNC, fluids, PIV sex, female OC

Glory, Glory

It was his last beer of the night, and he was ripping it apart. Curling, soggy shards of the torn label were stuck under his thumbnail, darkening the translucent edge and making it look dirty. They littered the sticky, lacquered bartop like ugly snow, falling in a tiny, chaotic mess. His hands were more than just dirty, the captain thought to himself as he used his wide thumb to itch at the glue-covered glass, rolling little, paper shards away from the smooth surface to reveal the amber liquid swirling within. The captain’s hands; they were covered in blood. Not innocent blood, but blood all the same. They’d never be clean again.

But, that was the job, and he was good at it. His hands were a direct reflection of his hard work. Killing evil bastards kept the world safe. Some poor sob in a factory could clean out the glue-painting machine that pasted these fuckin’ labels on all of these bloody beer bottles because of one unshakable truth: John Price was good at killing evil bastards.

Unfortunately, the killing would need to wait until after the mandated leave window closed again. His argument with Kate still grated inside of his head. He could almost hear her harsh, Yank accent in his ears.

“What do you want me to tell payroll, John? You can’t be here. You’ve got too many days. Go home. See your mom.”

“I see her plenty, Katie. Let me run that ops gig with Keller. C’mon. I’ll do overwatch,” he tried his best to weasel his way back into a bit of active duty.

“You’d be the world’s most expensive overwatch. Hell no. Here’s your ticket,” she shoved an envelope in his hands, “...and your money,” another envelope, “Go the fuck home, Captain. That’s an order.”

An order. More like a toothless threat.

But, alas, here he was, staring at a freshly shaved, buzzcut version of himself in a filthy pub mirror, undressing bottles left and right.

“Another, mate?” The barkeep pointed to his almost-empty drink, making a slight grimace at the paper graveyard that was sprinkled across his bar.

“No,” John sighed, pulling out a few notes from his wallet, “I’m off.”

“Happy Christmas,” the barkeep took the bills and didn’t bother to look up again, setting himself to sweeping the torn strips off of the surface, preparing for the next paying customer.

“You, too,” John muttered, tugging his black wool beanie over his ears before braving the classic cold, wet, and windy Liverpudlian night.

He didn’t live far. John’s mum had kept up his loft down by the docks, but it certainly didn’t feel like home. Home wasn’t real. Not anymore. As he walked along the Mersey’s edge, he peered into the black water, wondering if he’d ever truly go home again.

All of a sudden, he heard a shrill scream. Every sense that had been dulled by his lager was now as sharp as a blade and set on its edge. Again, a high-pitched shout pealed through the night air, beckoning him back to his heroism. That keening was the sound of some evil that needed stamping out, and he was hungry for it.

He sprinted through the warehouse district, chasing the noise of scuffling, ducking behind alleys and abandoned garages, looking for the source. Finally, there was a flash of red that caught his eye, so he ran towards it, his mind making sense of the scene in front of him.

Voices were jumbled and mashed up together, barely registering in his mind.

“Out here in a fuckin’ heat. Dumb bitch! C’mere.”

“She’s got a knife!”

“C’mere, you little slag. Get –”

In the middle of three huge, stinking Alphas, a tiny Omega was struggling, arm outstretched, brandishing her knife at them to keep them at bay. John came up behind the biggest one, some bald fuck with a dirty coat, and dropped him, cracking his spine in two places with well-placed fists, and breaking his jaw on his way down to the ground, leaving him groaning on the concrete.

One of his mates, a older man with thick, black eyebrows, lunged at Price, a look of indignant surprise on his face. The Omega screamed, her red coat yanked back over her face by the third man, her knife clattering to her feet. Price focused on Mister Eyebrows, dodging a lazy haymaker before popping him twice in the nose, drawing out his blood and knocking out at least two of his front teeth. Then, John grabbed him by the collar, pulling his jaw into his raised knee and listening to the satisfying splash as he fell into a murky puddle.

Finally, he set his sights on the last Alpha of the pack whose ropey arm was looped across the Omega’s neck, choking the air from her lungs. He growled at Price, his scent turning to rancid fear,

“Stay back! She’s mine, you big bastard.”

The captain had nothing to say. With a practiced ease, he side-stepped her assailant, breaking the elbow that controlled her throat, making him release her immediately. The evil bastard stumbled back, hand outstretched, bargaining for his life,

“Wait, wait. I’ll share her with you, how’s that? I’ll even let you have first go!”

A deafening howl came out of his mouth as Price’s boot heel made contact with his kneecap, forcing it to snap at a terrible angle. John’s hand shot out and grabbed the man by the hair on the crown of his head, tugging cruelly at his scalp. Without mercy, John slammed his face into a nearby bollard, and the howling stopped.

It was quiet again aside from the Omega’s trembling breaths. She had recovered the knife and was now pointing it towards John with shaking hands and wide, determined eyes.

“You alright, love?” Price asked, holding his hands up in a sign of peace, edging towards her in gentle, predictable steps.

“Y-yeah… Stay! Stay right there,” her voice was bright and clear, and he could hear her strength laced through her words. He stopped in his tracks, respecting her wishes.

“What are you doin’ all the way out here, darlin’?”

“They dragged me over here from Baltic Fleet,” she straightened up, getting her bearings, wiping the blood from a small cut in her cheek, “Fuckin’ bastards. Thank you, by the way.”

“Jus’ doin’ my job,” Price shrugged, waiting for her to lower the knife even further before he continued his approach.

“Police?” She asked, a little confused.

“Not exactly,” Price smiled, offering a hand out to her, “John Price, Captain of His Majesty’s RAF service.”

“Oh,” she studied him for a moment, and then her eyes fell to the hand, ready to bite but deciding to shake it instead.

When he touched her skin, Price felt her fever. Shocked, he tightened his grip, not meaning to startle her but too surprised by her temperature to ignore it.

“Christ, love. You’re burnin’ up.”

As quick as a flash, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and retreated back towards the wall of the warehouse behind her, scooting her way towards the corner to get out of his range, ready to bolt. She didn’t respond, but John watched as she wiped her brow, dotted with sweat and covered in concern.

“Hey,” he moved forward again protectively, “You can’t be out here alone. Not like this. At least let me walk with you. I’ll stay ten paces behind. It’s not safe.”

“I’m fine,” she said with more strength in her voice than what she was ready to produce.

“You’re not. You’re in a bloody heat. When did it start?” He watched as her knees began to tremble, and against her obvious wishes, he helped her sit on the warehouse deck, letting her keep the knife so she could feel safe.

“Yesterday…” She closed her eyes, trying to shake it off, “It’s… I’m fine. It’s never this bad.”

Now that he was close to her, Price was smothered by the scent of her body. The Omegan glands in her neck smelled like thick, wild honey, and her heat was mixing with her aroma, turning an already sweet smell into a lucious, decadent gourmand, pulling him in like quicksand.

“C’mon,” he helped her up, “Where’s your place? I’ll get you close.”

The clang of her knife made him glance up to see her eyes closed and her mouth slack. She was out, too weak to withstand the fever and the physical exertion.

Price felt his body react to her need. He was filled with rage, white and hot, at her situation. Those goddamn monsters were trying to take advantage of her in this vulnerable state. She should be home in her nest, being taken care of by her Alpha, covered in soothing oils and cool compresses, her needy little cunt stuffed full of his knot, staving off these symptoms and enduring them for her. Instead, she’d been hunted, chased, made to fight for her dignity out here in the middle of the docks. Something else inside Price’s chest curled around his anger.

Possession.

He tried to shake it off, knowing it came from being unmarked, but it had been so many years as a lone Alpha that he knew how to control it. Or, at least he thought he did.

Now, though, he found himself pulling at the neck of her coat as he held her in his arms, invading her privacy to check for a bite. He felt the shame wash over him as he covered her skin back up. He had no business searching for a mating bite. She was not his Omega, and he was not her Alpha.

After a few minutes out in the chilled wind, he made it to his apartment. Thankfully, it was late enough that his neighbors weren’t outside to witness what looked like a literal kidnapping, and he shuffled her inside without much trouble. Price lay her down on his long, leather sofa, careful to rest her head on the soft arm. He went to the kitchen to retrieve a cold rag and pressed it to her forehead, hoping to hold back the fever for as long as he could.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Wake up,” he whispered, trying to gently shed her coat and sweater, peeling her layers off to bring her temperature down to a more manageable level.

She moaned, her eyes wrenching shut even tighter, her face twisted in pain,

“My head…” She sighed, desperate for some relief.

“I know, love. C’mon,” John propped her up a bit, moving the rag so that the coldest parts would be against her skin, “What’s your name? I can find an address. Do you have your purse?”

“They… took it? I don’t… I dunno…” She muttered, obviously having a hard time stringing her thoughts together, “I don’t feel so good.”

This was not ideal. Price knew what came next. A high fever, exhaustion, fatigue, nausea, increased heart rate, and then…

“Alpha?” Her eyes were open, glassy and dark, the pupils fully blown, looking up at him with an outpouring of unfathomable need. Her scent rolled off of her in mind-altering waves, shoving Price’s carefully-built walls out of the way and sending shocks of desire straight to his heart and his fat, growing cock.

“No, baby. I’m not your Alpha. Who is he? Can you give me a name?” John asked, checking her coat pockets in a rushed panic. He was running out of time.

“Alpha, please… I need… Help me, please,” her shaking hands reached under his jacket and shirt, her knuckles rubbing against his furry belly, her strong fingers digging around for his belt buckle, getting right to the point.

Price felt the room flex around him, and he tried to breathe in air that wasn’t saturated by her vanilla spice, searching in the deepest recesses of his mind for some semblance of his self control.

“Easy, love. I can’t m–mmngh!” Her mouth slotted over his as he tried to protest, stopping his heart and his words at the same time.

She was heaven. Her smell was making his skin tingle all over his body, down his arms and up his legs, rushing to his central, sacral core. And her taste was even better. His little cinnamon roll, so sweet and warm, burning for him like a flame, hot and ready to scar him for life.

“Mngh… Love, mmm… Wait…” Price held her back, using more force than he thought he should need, surprised by her sudden power.

“John…” He met her eyes and found a particular clarity within them. She was coming out of her haze. But, it wouldn’t last. This was his final chance to keep her from doing something she would regret.

“Darlin’, I can’t. I’m not your Alpha.”

“You smell like you are,” she mewled, rubbing her wounded cheek across his engorged neck gland, spreading his scent all over herself.

“I can’t,” he moved away from her, trying to hold her in his arms for comfort rather than to bask in her expressive heat, “My work… I can’t leave you here, pretty girl.”

She sobbed out, trying to hold back from writhing against his body, doing everything she could not to make it harder for him to turn her down. Her eyes were rimmed red and pink from exhaustion, and she was staring down at her own hands, vibrating with tremors, slurring her words,

“Just lock me in the bath. I’ll run cold water. I’ll be fine…”

Something ancient and feral snarled in Price’s mind.

No.

“No,” he said, involuntarily, the voice in his head escaping from his throat.

“Please… I can’t stop myself… I want your knot, Alpha. Lock me up before I do something to you… Something you don’t want…” She could barely put two words together. Every thought was a struggle. He was losing her again.

He grabbed her and held her to his chest, clutching her like water in his palm, using all his strength to keep her with him,

“I want you, love. I want… Fuck, I need you.”

All of a sudden, the energy around their bodies stilled. That cracking, sparking electricity that bound them together was roiling just beyond John’s consciousness, ready to surge. But, he stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what she did next. She locked eyes with him and leaned in close, as if she would kiss him. But, she didn’t. She dipped her head down until she found his Alphic gland, swollen and bruised purple from him holding back his lust, nuzzling at it with the tip of her nose, rooting against him, testing his patience, checking to see if his temperament was true. Then, when he let her sniff him in his most potent spot, when she knew his soul was as pure as his scent, that he was true, she sucked his flesh between her lips, drawing his musk onto her tongue.

She’d accepted him. He reeled from it, unable to hold back a groan, his cock jerking against his zipper, thrashing to escape, flooding with hot blood and threatening to fill his knot before he’d even had a chance to taste her.

John pulled her mouth off of him and stared at her eyes again, in awe of her beauty, his mind swirling and yet perfectly sharp, begging her darkly,

“Give me your neck, Omega.”

The ritual had begun, and as she swept her hair away from her shoulder, pulling it around her back, she bent for him, arching her head down in a submissive bow, revealing her Omegan mating line. It looked like a keloid scar, the raised skin swollen and painful, like a pounding vein that ran from below her earlobe down to the top of her shoulder, full of her hormones and thick with her magic. One bite, and he would be in her thrall, pliant to her every whim, beholden to her needs until her heat had run its course.

Price had never given his bite to anyone. It had been easy to abstain. In fact, in his youth, he had a hard time understanding his mates’ commitments to their Omegas, scoffing at their lack of duty to their stations, doubting their commitment, and - moreover - doubting their loyalty. He remained a captain through and through, and he’d never made room for anyone or anything else. But, here he was, his teeth aching in his jaw, bigger and sharper than they should’ve been, his every sense heightened and taking her in like a drug, compelling him to punch through her delicate flesh and suck her nectar deep into his belly.

The feeling of her skin against his lips was enough to send a chill through his body. He was cooling from the inside out, and his body needed her heat. She was forcing a rut to take hold in him, and he could feel himself changing for her. Then, he bit down as hard as he could, breaking the thin seal of her mating line with ease, feeling the searing mixture of her oil and her blood filling his mouth and throat like a ripe plum, wet and sweet, and promising pleasure if he chose to swallow her.

He drank from her for as long as he dared, taking her in long, slurping gulps, letting her essence coat his throat, feeling the hot fluid burn inside of his chest and down into his stomach where it pooled and lingered, warming him up from the inside out.

“Alpha…” She moaned, raising her hand to cup his cheek as he sucked her life into himself, rubbing her thumb so softly over his shut eyelashes that he barely felt it.

John pulled away from her, his eyes fluttering open, her bright orange blood iridescent with her mating oil, making the red cells burn bright like a fresh-cracked yolk, gleaming, trapped between his teeth like gold. He watched it drip down her chest, staining her clothes, and he began to tear them off of her. She let him, limp and mute as he peeled her open, making her naked and pulling her into his arms.

He carried her into his bedroom, kicking open the door and busting the bolt through the strike, splintering the wood and not giving a shit about the damage. John lay her in the middle of the mattress and set to surrounding her with whatever softness he could find; his shirts, his blankets, even his scarves. Anything warm and comfortable was added to the nest, giving her as much support as he could before standing back to admire his work.

She eyed him from her recumbent throne, commanding him with her gaze. John stripped off his shirt for her, raking it up his back and over his shoulders, feeling as if he was moving his body for her and only for her. All of his motions, even his ragged breaths, were only escaping from his lungs because she wanted them to. His buckle clattered apart, and he popped open the button of his jeans, lowering the zipper in a sharp, metallic rip.

Once free, his heavy prick flagged, leaping forward and pulsating for her, proudly showing her his gleaming head. He was drooling an unrelenting stream of iridescent precome, his balls tight and full of Alphic oil, ready to coat her warm insides with his shining sex.

John climbed onto the bed, his face focused on her wet mound, admiring the plumpness of her, imagining her - in every delicious way - like a tender peach. He crawled to her, his mouth still stained neon orange from her gland, and he smeared her wet quim all over his lips and tongue. He wasn’t licking her so much as he was wearing her like warpaint, moving his nose and cheeks through her to ensure he was soaked in her heady slick, his body making wild, unbridled choices purely on instinct.

“Yes, baby, please…” Her voice went straight through him like a bullet, tightening his cockhead to an uncomfortable degree, and it jerked against the mattress in protest. Her hands were in his hair, scratching through his scalp, encouraging him to sink his tongue deep inside of her hole.

John obeyed, helpless to her desire, his mind wiping clean and being rewritten by her will. He was swimming in her scent, drenched in her slick, and gasping against her pussy, his eyes fixated on her form as it writhed above him. When she met his eyes, she bit the inside of her lip, crying out for him, rewarding him for his prostrated fealty. Then, she began to rock her hips against his jaw, fucking herself on his face, and he let her use him to her heart’s content, staying strong and sure, allowing his body to be used, objectified and glorified by it.

When she began to come, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He followed his tongue inside of her with two of his thick fingers, pressing against her walls, pushing her over the edge. She bolted upright, wrapping her thighs around his face, smothering him with her body, trapping him breathless between her legs. Her whole being trembled for him. He could feel the shimmer of her very soul, rattling and writhing with her siren-like keening. And just when he started to see spots in his vision, needing air just a little less than he needed to please her, she lay open for him, blooming outward like a flower, releasing him from a limbo he longed to return to, oozing with a stream of rainbow-tinted come, the Omegan oil within her womb escaping to advertise its promises to her mate.

Without knowing why, John found himself lapping it up from her pulsing hole like a hound, swallowing mouthful after mouthful and grunting with each pass of his broad tongue.

“John, I need... Please, put your knot inside me. I’ll be good…” She begged, tears shining at the corners of her eyes from her come-drunk bliss, her hands plucking at her nipples and trying to soothe herself down from her high.

“My pretty girl wants this knot, yeah?” John grinned devilishly, dipping his finger into her over and over and licking it clean like she was a jar of endless honey, “Wants me to breed this gorgeous cunt…”

At that comment, she spread her legs even wider for him, opening up for him like a blossom for the sun, ready to take whatever he had to give her. It was mesmerizing for John to see her like this. Everything about her was filled with intoxication and need. He was just a vessel for her pleasure, pouring himself into her to make her full again. Dizzy and drunk with adoration, he notched his girth at her entrance, struggling to fit even his cockhead within her.

“Fuck… so bloody warm…”

Her body was burning him with every millimeter he sank into her, the heat of her tight sex in such high contrast with his cool rut. It felt like he was swimming in a roiling pot of sugary caramel, clinging and cloying and sticking to every part of him, and yet it was not enough. He needed more. His hips thrust forward, savage yet steady, reaching deep inside of her like an anchor, rushing to settle himself within her darkness.

The way his Omega cried out this time was different, and it snapped him to her attention, his mind immediately sensing a new need.

“Love, tell me what you need.” He purred, his mouth kissing her lips and her neck, lapping at the now-healing wound his own fangs had made, talking to her between long licks of his tongue, “Tell me, and it’s yours.”

“You’re so big. I’ve never…” She sounded ashamed.

Price slowed to a creeping pace, focused fully on her face,

“Never had a knot before?”

She shook her head, her eyes full of worry. John wrapped her up in his arms, dragging himself out of her slowly before filling her up again as carefully as he could.

“Tha’s alright, baby. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“Feels like I’m burning alive,” she sighed, her brow furrowing with distress, “John, I need… I don’t know how…”

“Look at me, alright?” He helped her focus her eyes on his, “Don’t… Just stay with me, right here. You’re gonna come for me, and then… I’ll give you what you need.”

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice so small.

Price set himself on a path with a purpose. He used his hand to rub small, rhythmic circles beside the rigid body of her clit, coaxing her pussy to drop even more slick around him, using every ounce of willpower he had left not to let his knot slip inside of her prematurely. His thrusts were jerky and restrained, but he felt her begin to rock back and forth with his hand’s movements, bringing her closer and closer to her glowing joy.

“Good girl,” he praised her, watching her as she began to fall apart around him, “Tha’s my good little Omega. Come for your Alpha just like that. Just… mmf-fuck! Like that! Holy fuck.”

The feeling of her slick pussy clenching and twisting around his cock’s tugid body was enough to make him see stars. He felt almost sick with pleasure, his whole core lighting up like a roaring fire, spitting and aching to bury himself within her.

At the end of her crescendo, he felt himself let go of the chain, and he rutted his knot inside of her, humping himself forward ruthlessly, his body contorting itself to fit her needs. His knot sealed him within her, and although he was not yet orgasming, he was filling her with his come, the creamy flow of it spilling out of his tip, filling her hole and coating his prick from inside of its hungry little sheath.

“Your come… I can feel it inside of me. Oh, my God,” she sighed with some sort of relief, her eyes rolling inside of her head, her arms losing their strength, and her back arching towards him, lifting up as if she would float right into Heaven.

And just like that, her fever began to abate. With his knot stuffed inside of her, locking his seed within her hole, his Alphic oils could soothe her heat, bringing her back to the realm of consciousness and delivering her from her wild state.

“John,” she lay back, her hand pressed to his cheek.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he bent forward on his elbows and kissed her mouth, chastely at first, and then languidly, exploring her taste. When he did finally pull away, she was awake and alert, sated and happy. He smiled down at her,

“Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered, wiping her hair back from her face.

“Hey,” she smiled back at him, wrapping her ankles around his back for comfort, not knowing that it was just enough to set his cock on edge again, his Alphic instinct rejoicing at the feeling of being trapped by his mate.

“You alright?” John asked, a tinge of worry at the edge of his voice.

“I am now, thanks to you,” she sighed, tucking herself in beneath him, rubbing her hands along his ribs and the soft fur of his back and arms, feeling every bit of him as if she was seeing him with her touch, “You saved me, Alpha.”

“Aye,” he nudged her jaw with his nose, asking her wordlessly to give him the vulnerable softness of her neck. She obliged, and he spoke to her between sucking kisses, “All mine. My Omega. Innit that right, baby?”

She was practically lambent beneath the scrutiny of his possession, rolling in it like a wave in the sand, captured by it and surrendering to the riptide of his unbreakable grip. She nodded, humming her ascent, her expression turning a little rueful right at the end of his kisses. The sorrowful timbre of her voice broke his heart,

“I’m grateful. But, I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I’m so sor–”

“No,” he kissed her words away, feeling his length throb inside of her, urging him to kiss her again, “No, love.”

“I won’t bite you,” she promised, her gaze still full of apology, “You won’t be stuck with me.”

“Bite me, Omega,” he bent his head and buried his face in her shoulder, giving her his gland in total surrender, “Go on. I’m yours.”

“John…” She hesitated, but he could feel her body flood her hole, excited beyond measure at the thought of binding him to her as her mated Alpha.

“Go on,” he commanded in his smoky growl, holding her tighter and bracing for the ecstasy of her teeth.

He felt her lips first, and his balls tightened, ready to fling him into a messy orgasm as soon as he felt his gland shatter in her mouth. Her Omegan teeth wouldn’t break the skin, but he knew she was strong enough to crack the shell around his swollen node. The anticipation of her bite was wrecking his mind, and he was gasping for breath by the time he felt her jaw set itself against him.

“Baby, please…” He whined in her ear, his hips thrusting in short, jerking thrusts, unable to move much with his knot still trapped up inside of her, holding his gushing come in her hole, pushing it into her womb from the sheer volume of it.

Her teeth connected, and he could hear his unbroken shell give way beneath her strength, the hormones inside of it rushing through his system like wildfire, burning through his veins and making him scream for her. At the same time, John felt his core throw him into a raw orgasm, his whole body trembling above her, wringing himself from the inside out.

“Alpha,” she sighed, licking his neck to comfort him, “My Alpha…”

“Yours, baby. All yours.”

— — — — —

The new trainees filed out of the gym, sweaty, bloody, and eager to be out of the captain’s sight. Price had run them ragged, forcing them to spar with practice weapons, pitting them against each other in a strained, exhausting competition. Ghost and Soap sat with Gaz as they eyed their commander, their eyes glued to the fresh bite mark on his neck, shocked into a silent stupor.

“I cannae believe it. Mated? To which lassie?” Soap asked, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t think he’d ever take a mate,” Gaz marvelled.

“I thought he was savin’ himself for marriage,” Ghost quipped, earning himself a scuff from Soap.

Price made his way across the mat, pulling his sweaty shirt off his back to trade it for a clean one. The red welts and nail-marks across his shoulders and down his belly made Gaz let out a low whistle. But, his commander’s glare stopped him mid-note.

“Wha’s that, Garrick?”

“Nothin’, sir. Just… admirin’ your battle scars,” Gaz smiled, wishing his two teammates would stop snickering so loudly.

“Looks like a hell’uva fight, Cap,” Ghost added, looking everywhere but into Price’s icy eyes.

“Wha’s her name?” Soap asked outright, skipping over the double entendres and going right for the point.

Their captain sighed, zipped up his gym bag, and stood in front of his three officers, glaring down at them with a look that was on the border of dead-seriousness,

“If I told you that, lads, I’d have to kill you.”

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year ago

Text

'cause I love this curse on our house

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: !THIS WAS A REQUEST THAT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED! the requester wanted a fic about clarisse and reader breaking up after an argument, and after months apart from eachother, reader appears at the ares cabin at 3am because she couldn't sleep without clarisse.

warnings: sparring violence, angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, fluff at the end.

a/n: im sooo sorry I accidentally deleted ur request😭🙏 but I hope this is to your liking, and thank you for your kind words🩷🎀

wc: 3.1k

"I never learned to lose a fight, I never learned to grow upright. this is who we are."

-back to you, flowerface

----

Clarisse wondered to herself, on whether or not you'd come running to her if she were to stake this spear through her chest.

Surely, you would? Sensible, independant and stubborn you.

She knew it'd take more than some flowers and half assed apology to get you to speak to her again, and with that knowledge in her head, she isn't sure what that would mean for your relationship.

Clarisse La Rue would rather die than be caught begging for your forgiveness. She would also consider maiming herself as a last resort for any problem she's ever had.

But it has been 3 months, and everyone knows about the 3 months rule.

3 months into dating, 3 months after a breakup. And yet so far, neither of you have tried to "happy new years" your way into eachother's life again.

It is a painful observation for the girl to make. And it's more painful for her to admit that she is at least 40% in the wrong.

That is the thing about the two of you, you become abrasive everytime you're upset, and Clarisse becomes confrontational everytime she is upset. On a normal day, those traits are opposite.

The truth was, Clarisse knew deep down how flawed she is as a person, and as a lover. She is a fighter at heart.

And though she'll admit, she's one of the best out there, being the daughter of a literal war god, but sometimes it feels like that's all she's good for. Does she want to love? Yes. Does she know how to? Not really.

She loves the early hours with you before everybody wakes up, trying to convince you to stay longer in her bed before you sneak out to avoid being noticed.

She loves the intimacy of your hands instinctively intertwining in a cabin party where the music is too loud and people are brushing against you in almost every corner as they try to dance or make their way out, and no one is paying attention to how her thumb caresses your knuckles.

She loves your lips, and how they feel around her neck as you bury your head in the crook of it from behind.

And at one point in the past, she loved how easy it was to be with you. Not the deep connection or understanding, but the way you wouldn't hold it against her if she were to pretend she didn't hear say hi as you walked past her. And how you didn't mind sneaking into her bed after midnight and the darkness becomes the only witness of your loving glances and tight embraces.

But Clarisse was quick to realize later on. that she might want more than that with you. It all felt impossible. Her reputation, her need to always look the toughest and never having a visible weakspot that might be used against her in the future.

And exposing you as her Achilles' heel, would mean that everything she's worked so hard for would break down into pieces the moment the news is out.

Her father already views her as a mistake. Something that could never be his. And for that she's had to work twice as hard as any of her siblings, and still be the least worthy in his eyes.

Were you worth risking all of that? She doesn't know. She doesn't think she ever will, now that it's all over.

And what about you?

What part did you play in cutting down the fragile line of rope the two of you had stood on?

Well, you were strong, opiniated, and rational. So fucking rational that it pissed her off. While she was losing her mind watching you laughing and giggling in the corner by a tree with some random dude that looked like he was birthed by a rat hybrid during the end of year party being held in camp. You were completely fine with not being with her.

Of course she knew that whatever going on between you two was a secret, but why were you so fine with it? Are you not affected by her the way she is with you?

"I'm playing the game by your rules, this is what you wanted." You had snapped at her after she dragged you away from your boring date into a secluded part into the forest. "This isn't a game." She had blurted out in frustration.

"Isn't it? Whenever you want me, I'm there. Whenever you don't, it's like I've never existed." And you were right. This was what she wanted. Despite herself and her feelings, this was how she treated you.

"We know we're together, why does anyone else needs to know that?" Clarisse asked instead of telling you what she really wanted to.

"Are you ashamed of me, Clarisse?" She could not answer your question. I'm ashamed of myself. She thought.

Can't you see? You are the only person who's been patient enough to wait for me, to stay with me. But then I'm looking for you in every crowd just to see that you don't even notice my absence.

Oh fuck it, in the end of the day, it would've never worked. Her thoughts countered againts one another.

Clarisse La Rue was born angry, all she ever knew to be, is angry. Her shortcomings is her inability to be gentle with those she loves the most, her need to break and rip every sensitive soul that has ever pitied her enough to try and pull out that ancient rage holed up in her chest.

"You were nothing without me. I found you, I gave you something to care about, something to anchor yourself to. Cause gods, you act like you don't give a shit, but you care so much that you make yourself believe that you don't care about being tossed aside, like it doesn't hurt you when I don't look twice on your way in front of other people."

The way she looked at you as she spat each and every word onto your face, was worse than the things she had actually said.

You scoffed at her, even with tears in your eyes, you glared at her and laughed out bitterly, refusing to sob or break under her stare.

"You know what your problem is, Clarisse?" You asked, even with the cracks in your voice, her spine shivered. "Indulge me." She forced out.

"You are so miserable, that you can't stand to see anyone else that isn't. You just need me to be pissed and devestated so you could feel better about yourself. Cause Gods forbid if you don't view your self worth on how less everyone else is." Clarisse says nothing, she knew you weren't finished.

"But I don't need to fuck over anyone else's life to know that I'm good. I'm perfectly fucking fine. I was fine before you, and I'll- I'll be fine after you." And there it was. That was where it all came crashing down.

Clarisse bad one second to say fuck all, to cut down all the bullshit. To admit that for once in her life, she was tired of fighting, and she had no clue what she's doing.

But as she opened her mouth to say it all, something in the shadow of her ego had restrained her tongue from speaking at all.

And so you watched her close her lips tight, and grieved then apology she never gave, the girl she couldn’t be for you. And then you left.

Everyone steered clear from Clarisse's way, unsure of what was getting on her nerves, and not caring enough to want to know.

And that night became the last time the two of you have ever spoke to eachother.

"Clarisse." Her brother's voice snaps her out of her thoughts. He was in position with his spear.

"Aim for my chest, remember to move your feet like taught you." She instruced him, fixing her own stance. "Go."

The boy moves quickly, and just like she envisioned in her head for ten thousand times in the just a few minutes ago, her feet drags.and her hand slows down for a second- because all it took is a second for the spear to slash her chest, and slams her down on her back.

---

Growing up, you had always earned the title of the "easy" one. Compared to your step-siblings, you had caused the least problem, required the least attention, asked the least questions.

You always knew what to do. You took care of your siblings when your parent couldn't, you knew how to take care of them the way your parent would. You knew when to get things done before you were told to, you knew where the pills were whenever you weren't feeling where. And you knew which secrets were better kept to yourself.

That one doesn't need watching over, they'd say about you. Even as you're being sent over to camp quick enough before the monsters acended, you were still not worth being worried over.

Someone who takes care of others so well, sure knows how to take care of themselves, right? Right.

Of course you're self sufficient, of course even know, you know where to find medication before your sickness gets worse. Or course even now, you know just the right things to tell people so you'd be left alone.

That was the bright side of raising yourself and growing up in an environment that made you feel so alone, you get used to the silence as the company gets smaller and smaller.

But no one ever said that loneliness felt good, even as a person who's found comfort in it. Because the truth of it, is that it's the sinking feeling in your stomach that you get addicted to. It is the repetitive cycle of breaking down that feels like home, because that's the only constant thing that have prevailed in your life.

What Clarisse had given you, with her presence, her rare tenderness and welcoming touches, was something new that had altered your entire defense system. Hope. She had given you hope.

And as you stood in the house that fell all over you, surviving the damage just like you always do. You realised just how stupid you were to even think that this time it would be different.

The news of Clarisse's injury spread like wildfire. And after repressing your emotions for the longest time, you felt your chest tightening from a familiar feeling.

Clarisse have taken blows before, but never this bad, never this serious. You know that she'd heal in time, but it doesn't stop you from worrying.

How could she be so stupid and careless? Being slammed down by a younger sibling nonetheless. Even if she has no regard for her physical safety, she must have one for her pride.

She's never so easily distracted or foolish, this injury and including her little spear incident has been looked upon by others as a moment of weakness for her. They are starting to wonder if Clarisse was ever that competent in the first place, or if she has just been making it look like she is.

You tossed and turned on your bed. The sheets don't feel right against your skin. It must be the heat, you tell yourself. It must be the heat because it cannot be the deprivation of Clarisse's cold skin from yours.

Demigods do not medicate the same way mortals do, and yet without anyone knowing, you've been swallowing down melatonin almost every night to be able to fall asleep.

It's not easy to get, the last hidden stock of it from the medical room finished 3 nights ago. And if no one had noticed your sleeping problems before, they do now because of your visible under eye bags.

Your hands have been shaking, a side effect of mortal drugs. It has also been making you more jumpy, anxious.

The worst of it all is how all those symptoms only worsens your sleeping problems now. As if seasonal depression itself isn't bad enough, now you're capable of staying up all night revisiting old haunting memories.

It's easy to distract yourself in the day with all the training and learning to do.

But no one survives the cruel coldness that the night presents itself with. When your only friend is the empty ceiling staring back down at you, and the only kind of blanket you want are the ones that feels like her arms.

It was ironic, you still wanted her the way a kicked dog would still roll over if asked to.

You had left her with your head held up high. But only the gods know how low to the ground you'd kneel down to for her to look at you again the way she used to.

If she had wanted you more lenient, then she could've just asked. If she had needed you to need her more then you would've begged for her if she would've just told you.

Pushing aside the soft material of your blanket off of you, your feet barely makes a sound as you tiptoed to the door to exit your cabin.

You told yourself you don't really know where you're going. But you moved in the same way you had 3 months ago, the road is memorized, the pace is as similar, and the yearning is twice as strong.

The moom followed you from above, lightimg the way as you walked on the ground from the pavements to patches of grass.

When you found yourself in front of the Ares cabin, you truly asked yourself if you have even an ounce of shame or sense left in your head. The answer was none, all that lived inside of you was dread, ever growing. The last straw before the breaking.

The last chance that looks a little too late to be taking for.

And yet as you pull open the door ever so slightly the way you used to, you feel it being held static before a creaking noise could be made. And like memories you've seen flashing in your mind multiple times before, your eyes meet Clarisse's.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing up?"

You spoke at the same time as her. Both of you looked as surprised as the other.

As you took in eachother's appearance, Clarisse looks at you expectedly, considering that you are the one who isn't at your cabin. "I...wanted to see you."

Her expression changes slightly, as if she wasn't expecting that answer.

"Weird hour to visit." She noted. "Weird hour to be up by the door after you're slashed on the chest by a spear."

The two of you stared at eachother in silence before you notice Clarisse's chest heaving as she breathed out a low sigh. "Do you want to come in?" She whispered out to you. You nod your head once and waited for her to move aside so you could be let in.

Naturally, your hand found hers. She clasped her fingers over yours without a question as the two of you walked towards her bed.

Sitting dowm side by side, you eye the outline of her face closely in the dark, some sort of relief is released in your chest. "How bad is the damage?" You asked slowly. You almost reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, but caught yourself.

"Could've been worse." Was her response.

"Does it hurt right now?" You inquired again. You hear her inhale sharply and wondered if breathing was hard for her. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry." You weren't sure what else to tell her. To know that she was in pain had hurt you as well, but a larger part of you did not really care for her injury. Only now do you realise how much being away from her have affected you.

Now, in much closer proximity, your breathing fans her skin, the back of her hand touching yours, and her eyes unmoving from yours, do you realise just how much you needed Clarisse La Rue.

"It doesn't hurt as much as having to watch you leave." She spoke those words in a hushed whisper, meant only for your ears. If only dhe has been a little louder. You would've been able to hear the halt in the back of her throat. "No?" You whispered back to her. "No."

"I wouldn't have left, if you would've just asked me to stay."

"I know. I know you would." She mutters it affectionately, the cold shoulder already gone. "I know you would...you've always been good to me."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and held your tears in. "Then why didn't you?"

Clarisse shrugged. "I'm never good to you."

You frowned at her reply, feeling a jolt of anger striking through you. "But you could be. Why won't you be good to me, Clarisse?" Water gathered in your eyes, your primise yo refrain from crying broken.

"I would give you anything. I would give you my life. Could you just be good to me, Clarisse?" You told yourself that you wouldn't ask this question again, no matter how much of a dog you feel like, you won't force her to give you a bone.

And so with a tear running down your cheek, you looked up at her pleadingly and thought, please, see me, want me, love me. Need me the way I need you.

Her forehead softly rests againts yours, and you hear her then, mumbling."I could be good. I could be good to you."

Her thumb finds the wet streak on your face and wipes it off. "I want to be good to you."

"Then do that. It's that easy." She shakes her head lightly, making your frown deepens. "I've had to be this person that everyone expects me to be, because of my father, and my siblings. Sometimes giving in, feels like it could be death itself. Sweet dreams before you wake up in hell. That's what it feels like trying to be the person you want me to be. Punishment worthy."

"But it isn't death, Clarisse. Not just because someone else thinks it should be.

- Not just because your father thinks so."

"I know." She answers with a more reassuring tone.

"I haven't been able to sleep without you." You tell her out of obligation. "I can tell." She joked, the both of you chuckled lightly.

Clarisse then crawled over her bed to lie down and tugged you by your sleeve to find your place in her embrace again.

Laying your head above the area her chest was struck on, her beating heart becomes your lullaby. You fell asleep soon after, with your legs tangled together under the covers. Whatever was to happen tomorrow, it wouldn't matter. Because the worst was over.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #dior goodjohn #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson

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livelaughlovesubs · 11 months ago

Note

Nini nini hate fuck with either blade or dan heng pls I beg 🥺💝

I finished this some days ago and it got deleted- also it’s unnecessarily long, and I’m not sure if it’s good… hope you like it anyway 😭😭

Dom!reader x sub!blade (reader is gender neutral)

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), chocking, slapping (once), degrading, rough sex, blood (hand injury)

Riiiip

The sound of bandage being ripped.

Blade wrapped his hand with the white cloth, biting one end to tied the other end around it. Slowly the pure colour got tainted with his blood, a crimson colour spreading and seeking though the fabric. He sighed, staring at his own hand with a distaste on his tongue, before glancing at the door. Heavy footsteps could be made out from the other side. Loud and hectic, stomping even. You must have noticed his arrival.

It was just as he predicted. Moments after he finished treating his injury the door got slammed open, a loud bang as the door hit the wall. Your figure stood in the frame, stopping, not entering his chamber. Instead you glared at him and scanned the situation. He instantly noticed how your gaze lingered around his injured hand, and how you were frowning. The man chose to not elaborate, hence you two were holding a starring contest. After a while you closed the door behind you and walked over to him, grabbing his wrist and yelled, “now do you care to explain?”

He knew exactly why you were so angry, but that doesn’t mean he understood it. Not giving him any time to explain himself, something he wouldn’t have done anyway, you continued your nagging, “why do you have to keep going on dangerous missions alone? I can’t reach you at all! It’s not like you use your phone after all.” You stopped for a second, still holding his wrist while he avoided your gaze, gritting your teeth in anger. With an impatient tone you said, “I’m waiting for an answer.”

If it were up to blade, then you could wait until the sun sets. He wasn’t a man of many words, and he didn’t believe he had to tell you everything. That was if it was up to him, because he knew it would get worse if he doesn’t say anything. With his usual deep voice, he uttered, “I wanted to practice.” This was the best excuse he could think of, practicing his sword. It was reasonable, no? “Practice? It’s more like you wanted to get hurt.” “Not get hurt, I wanted to..” he didn’t really want to say ‘die’ in this context, and you didn’t pursue it any further neither. You sighed at him, followed by a rough push from your hands. The male fell backwards, now laying on his back, stabilising himself with his hands.

“Lay down.” You ordered, and yanked the arm with the injured hand away, you didn’t want him to keep using that hand so much. The spot where his hand was has been tainted red. He glanced at you hesitatingly, his dark blue bangs almost covered his entire face. Soon he obeyed your command and laid on his back, you were still raising his arm up into the air. “Keep it raised.” Once again, you gave him another cold order. How did it escalate to this? He was pretty sure he knew what you were going to do, yet he didn’t mind. Just then his speculations were correct, and you pulled his pants down.

He smirked, it was a mocking one, as if he was laughing at you. At this sudden unexpected change in atmosphere. After a bit he asked with a challenging tone, “did the sight of me hurt turn you on?” You knew he was playing now, so why not join in? “Have you finally decided to speak, now that I’m in your pants?” Your hands grabbed his knees, raising them to his chest and folding him apart. It wasn’t about doing him a favour, so you just proceeded to manhandle him, making him spread his legs for you. “So eager, aren’t you? Give me a break.” Blade said, but he allowed you to do whatever you wanted without resisting. Without giving him any glances, you replied “Same goes to you.”

Even though you two shared such a foul mouthed conversation, the advances you did on him continued. Then you stood up, walked around the room for a bit and came back with a bottle of lube. The blue haired man looked at you awkwardly and waited, feeling a little stupid at the situation in front of him. As soon as you came back, you started working on his abdomen. Opening the bottle, squeezing some of the lube onto his half erect shaft. The cold liquid made him flinch slightly, and he frowned as he watched you keep coating him with that slippery fluid. It flowed all the way down to his hole, and his rim clenched. What a roundabout way to prepare him, he thought you were being unnecessarily childish.

With one of your fingers, you sloppily spread the contents of the bottle around his lower body. Somehow the mood was getting heavier with every second and he didn’t know what to say, until your little comments returned. “Getting exited, little pervert?” You also coated your own dick with the lube, before lining it up with his entrance. “So much that you stopped talking, cat got your tongue?” He wasn’t going to let you go away with that, or at least that’s what he planned. Instead of coming up with a snarky remark he had to bite his lip to stop a moan erupting from his throat.

“Gu-Mhn..! You- fuck..” his eyes widened a little, and he was furrowing his brows even more than before. You sticked it in without some proper preparation, and it caught him off guard. Since you used a lot of lube, the tip still slipped in, but the rest was starting to get difficult. He wanted to curse at you, yet the words didn’t come out, so he just hold it and glared at you. If you didn’t know him you’d think he wants you dead, even so you weren’t pleased by that, so you chuckled, “not with those eyes, bladie. I’m sure your hole can take it, after I fucked it so good last time.” “Shut up- ugHh..! You.. shit.” Suddenly his hand reached out to you. You didn’t know what he was trying to do, which is why you grabbed his arm and kept it in place. His hand was now in the air, some blood drops were dripping onto his belly.

“Keep your pawns to yourself.” You had such an annoying smile while you said that, especially so while you pushed the rest of your length in. “UHh..! Mhm-nGghH..” the male was still trying his best to keep quiet, making some grunts and groans on the way. Fuck, if this was under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be able to keep his hand still like this, he was sure he was stronger. Though this wasn’t a normal situation, with you inside him, spreading him open with your cock. It was strange but he felt a little vulnerable, and so hot.

Sweat was forming on his skin, face turning redder by the second. It must be because he just came back from a mission, he is tired, thats why he is feeling all this heat. He blinked, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling, noticing his heart rate going up and body twitch each time you touch him. When he opened his eyes again you were inches away from his face, startling him a little. With a gentle whisper, unlike your tone before, you mumbled into his ear, “you want to get hurt? I’ll make it hurt.”

The face of the male was crimson red now, matching the colour of his hand. He took a tad longer to process the information, and you didn’t give him that moment. You started moving without giving him a warning, hips snapping against his at an already rough pace. “Ugh-uUugGh..!! Wa-waAaaiit.., oh- fuck, fuck. It mhm.. hurts.” Blade clenched his fists, more red coated his tummy. You slowed down a little, intertwining your fingers with his injured hand, not minding the blood sticking to your palms. Then you resumed to your previous movements, pounding into him like there’s so tomorrow.

The switched between your gentleness and relentless actions made his head spin. He really tried to keep the noise down but to no avail. Without him noticing you went down again to whisper more dirty things into his brain, like calling him degrading names. Blade wrapped his other hand over your neck, gasping and whining as you kept going, whispering as a begging voice, “please.. ah, haah..” “does it hurt?” He answered without thinking, “a-a bit.., uhhh..” to which you asked again, “do you hate it?”

Both of you knew what he would answer, and he didn’t want to cover up the truth as he uttered the words, “no, I love it.” That’s when the insulting really hit off, now that you were sure he enjoyed it too. “You really only go into fights because you’re a fucking masochist, aren’t you?” He shook his head, suddenly so expressive unlike before. “You sure you aren’t actually a male prostitute? Hmm blade? You fucking whore.” Even though you were calling him such hurtful name with such fever, he only felt hotter. The trust and the feeling of your dick rubbing against his walls was unreal, like a dream. And he wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare or not.

“Don’t you fucking dare leave like that again.” You said, panting a little too since you were still rutting into him like a damn animal. Despite all those hateful words, there was no way you actually hated him. You were angry because you cared, that’s all. And he knew it as well. Now your own hand looked like a grotesque mess, mixed with his and stuck to the bandages. He also didn’t feel pain anymore, or rather, it was because the pleasure was too overwhelming. It was all too much, from the way it rubbed against his deepest parts, to the fast pace you set. This felt so good he could cry.

When he still didn’t nod to your demand, you stopped holding his hand, they both instead reached out to his neck. The pale skin was now tainted red on one side. You squeezed down onto his trachea, watching his mouth hung open. “Did you understand me, blade?” He chocked, hand meekly reaching out to yours out of reflex. But he didn’t use any strength to keep you from suffocating him, only staring at you through his clouded vision. You thought you saw the corners of his mouth going upwards into a smile, and you watched his face get even redder. After a while you stopped, he immediately inhaled and panted. A bodily reaction, nothing he could control.

“I still haven’t gotten my answer.” You reminded him and started fucking into him again, at a slower pace. He trembled, his hole clenching around you even more now that you were moving so gently. It was way too late for that, after you’ve been so rough with him, no? Because now it’s not enough for him anymore, he needed you harder and deeper. Out of nowhere he felt a harsh slap on his cheek, causing him to shake. “Ah..” the male whimpered, eyes gazing up at you. You looked at him like he was vermin, akin to one would look at an insect. This alone caused a shiver to run down his spine and an uncomfortable twitch at his lower body.

He knew you wanted him to agree, but he didn’t want to, he wished to keep fulfil those missions on his own. This wasn’t something you could change, and he wasn’t willing to lie to you. Instead of answering your question, he grabbed your hand with his, and begged prettily. In a submissive tone, with a sweet pleading voice he said, “please, it’s not enough… I want you so deep inside me.” You noticed him spread his legs wider for you, and his injured hand being thrown over his mouth. Then he licked some of his own blood off.

You knew he won’t listen to you, after so many tries you knew. So instead of trying any longer, maybe you should go along with his request? Even if it leaves a bad taste on your tongue…

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub blade #blade x gender neutral reader #blade x you #blade star rail #blade honkai #blade hsr #hsr blade #blade x y/n #blade smut #blade x reader #blade hrs

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0mg-bird · 1 month ago

Text

How Did It End?

Post Prison! Spencer x Fem!Fiancee Reader

Summary: Almost four months since Spencer came home and the fairytale that once was your life has come crashing down around you.

Warnings: ☹️ ouch. Angst. PTSD. Taylor Swift ‘How did it end?’ coded. hurt/comfort. this hurt to write, don’t hate me. Reid my poor baby has some stuff to work out.

W.H. Auden once wrote,

‘Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky and feel its total dark sublime, though this might take a little time.’

Poetry was something you were no stranger to, given the fact you taught an advanced creative writing class at the local high school.

You once enjoyed poetry.

But now, when the words feel like knives aimed at you, you can’t bear to indulge in the afternoon readings like you used to.

Instead, afternoons are spent in an apartment that somehow lost its warmth. Before, you’d claim it’s because Spencer was gone, that things would be brighter when you brought him home. He’s been home for three months, a little longer, the weather has begun to change, warping into a melancholy winter. You sit at your desk, staring at your computer screen, spinning your engagement ring around your finger.

You’ve been trying to get back into writing, trying to revisit your archived story. Though, it’s hard to revisit a fictional romance mystery when there’s nothing to inspire it.

Groaning, you delete half of the last paragraph you’ve written and try to type something that isn’t cliche. Pushing through the urge to stop, you write until the words flow thoroughly and there’s a key turning in the door.

There he was, the love of your life.

Spencer trudges into the apartment and drops his bag by the door, his shoes find a home beside it. The circles under his eyes are darker than they were this morning when he left, he runs a hand through his hair and glances over at you when you stand with a grin.

“Hi.” You do your best to beam, conveying just how much it excites you to see him.

“Hi.” He mumbles, tossing you a tight lipped smile as he walks towards the bedroom.

Trying to push away the sick feeling in your gut, you turn back to your blind optimism and take your glasses off.

It takes eight steps from the bedroom door to the closet, it takes him three steps to pace and grab casual clothes. In about a minute, he takes off his day clothes and pulls on something that doesn’t feel constricting. You memorized every foot step he makes in this home, it’s easy to focus on when you spent some time not hearing it.

By the time he comes back out to retrieve his bag and sit on the couch, you grab up your laptop and sit on the other end of the sofa.

Paperwork and files soon lay on the coffee table and you watch him organize and complete end of the day tasks. Patiently waiting your turn, when Spencer finally relaxes back into the cushions, you slide closer.

“How was your day?” You ask.

He grunts. “Nothing worth talking about. Oh, I’m going to Connecticut next week to do a seminar, I’ll be gone two days.”

You nod. “That’s exciting, right?”

He shrugs, then there’s silence.

You scoot closer. “I was working on some things, I think I’m finally getting back into the groove of it. You want to read the last chapter I made?”

He motions to the coffee table. “Yeah, just leave it there and I’ll take a glance later. I’m debating on if I want to shower before dinner or after.”

“I was thinking we could go out for dinner, we haven’t in a while.” You offer with a hopeful smile.

Spencer frowns. “I’m not really feeling a social scene right now.”

“Oh, yeah, no, of course.” You quickly say. “We could do take out then, Italian maybe?”

He shakes his head. “We shouldn’t do take out anymore, it’s basically inviting a serial killer into our home, giving him some place to come back later when I’m not around.”

Right. The paranoia.

You knew things were going to be different when Spencer came home, and you did your best to adjust with an open mind. Sleepless nights consoling him, countless days spent trying to pull him from his own mind. Through tears and breaking points and a few instances where he utterly scares you, you know he’s still your same Spence, but just a little hardened now. He’s still the man who spent too much on a ring, still the dorky guy you fell for those years ago.

Things are just…a little rough.

“Okay.” You say to his statement. “I’ll whip something up then.”

At the sight of your willingness to give something up, he feels immensely bad.

“No.” He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I’m being stupid. Italian sounds fine.”

The bad habit of being too harsh on himself has been hard to kick, but it’s getting better… you think.

So you order Italian and eat in front of the television while Spencer fact checks what the characters are saying, criticizing the antics of these fictional people. It feels so normal, the whole situation, it makes you momentarily have amnesia, as if the two of you are exactly like before. You lean into his side and laugh at the sitcom, thinking that this Spencer hasn’t experienced what he has, that everyone around the two of you still feel the happy affects of your love, that you test wedding cakes and look for a bigger place. A place the two of you can buy together and start a family.

“I’m gonna shower.” He says, rubbing your shoulder.

Looking up at him, you smile playfully. “Want company?”

There it was, that reminder that things weren’t like before.

He kind of just shakes his head with a smile and leaves without anything else.

You know he doesn’t mean to, but sometimes he makes you feel about an inch tall. He used to look at you with this heavy gaze, something needy, something that never failed to make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. His hands would find a home on your skin, he used to kiss for fun.

You don’t remember exactly when he last gripped you in a way that wasn’t just polite.

You know he has fears, he has it in his head that he is a danger to himself and you, that his hands are murderous, but it doesn’t feel the best when you’re constantly rejected by the man you’re going to marry.

Rubbing your eyes, you clean up the dinner mess and then go to the bedroom to slip into pajamas. The floor length mirror shines your reflection, you stop to stare.

Maybe you weren’t the first pick, maybe you hated what you saw sometimes, but the thing about Spencer was he was so sure that no one could ever do it like you. A slew of compliments he’d give you, the fever of his love was scorching.

You give the girl in the mirror a smile, then comb her hair with your fingers and smooth your tank top.

Silly enough, you turn to the side, wrapping your arms around an invisible bump, and you smile fondly at the thought. Two kids. A boy and a girl. Little geniuses. That’s what he and you would talk about. The next thing after he marries you, the next thing he’d do was give you a baby. He swore up and down at night when you laid with your head on his beating heart, he’d give you the family you craved and your face would hurt from smiling so much.

All plans are at a stand still now.

And that’s okay, wasn’t it? This was a rough patch and you’re helping Spencer get through it because you’d help him with anything-

The bedroom door opens, Spencer walks in and you step away from the looking glass.

“I’m going to get ready for bed.” You mumble, walking past him, cheeks burning red.

To say the least, Spencer feels horrible. Here you were, giving him your undying loyalty, holding his hand through all of it, and he’s the reason life has stopped. You’re so brave about it, always patient and understanding.

He hates it.

You should be angry, you should be arguing. He knows his bad moods kill you, he knows you’re waiting for things to be normal again and they won’t. You get up in the middle of the night when he’s asleep and put on your wedding dress, just to smile at yourself and promise that soon, it’ll be better. You think he doesn’t realize, that he’s passed out, but from the bed he watches you turn in front of the mirror and bite your lip, the way you always do when you’re too pleased with something. Then he sees you cry, softly, hand pressed to lips so you don’t make any noise and inconvenience him. You only let the break happen for a fee minutes, then you wipe your tears, take off the dress and tell yourself that it’s all alright.

Things will be okay.

What if they won’t?

What if it all just crumbles, every wall of the castles built?

It’s not a matter of ‘what if’s’ anymore, is it? Not when the two of you argue into the morning about things. You’re trying so hard to give him the benefit of the doubt but when he isn’t giving you anything at all, it makes for situations like this one.

Head in your hands, you pause for a brief moment and breathe before looking back up at Spencer. The two of you have been at this for about an hour and a half, all because you mentioned how unfair he’s being. Here you were, taking the scraps he throws to you like you’re a dog, and he’s saying it’s you who is unfair.

“I know you want things to go back to the way they were, but it’s not gonna happen.” He says in that bitter tone you hate, looking down at you, sitting on the mattress.

“I know things are different, Spencer.” You claim. “But I didn’t think I had to be okay with you hardly looking at me, or-or not baring to ask me a simple question like how my day was.”

He scoffs at you, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m sorry if my attention isn’t devoted to you now.”

You stand to match his position. “Don’t make me seem selfish.” You shout.

“I’m- you’re not selfish, I just…what do you want from me?” He questions, throwing his arms out and staring at you with absolutely no love in his eyes.

“What do I want?” You reword. “What I want is some progress. Every day I wake up, and I do my best to convince you that you’re not something evil, that these unforeseen circumstances don’t define you, and it’s like I’m stuck in a loop. I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself.”

A lump forms in your throat, your eyes burn but you can’t find it in yourself to let those tears fall.

“That’s the problem!” Spencer shouts. “You’re looking at me like I’m some sort of sick animal and I can’t stand it!”

“You’re looking at me like I’m not the love of your life anymore, so I suppose some things change.”

Silence.

Spencer’s at a loss for words.

Your tears start falling now. You wipe at them with fever.

“I’m trying to give you time, Spence.”

“Angel-” He tries to interrupt, only to be stopped with the movement of your hand in the air, halting him.

“Don’t. Don’t be like this. I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but I have felt so alone.” You say with a squeak. “And you just… don’t care.”

He shakes his head, demeanor changing. “Of course I care!”

“Really? Because it feels like you gave up on me when you gave up on yourself.” You gasp lightly, trying to calm your shaking hands. “And that’s mean, baby. I know you have been through so much and you lost the game of chance, and I’m sorry- I am so sorry, but you can’t toss me aside like I haven’t formed my whole life around you!”

It’s strange, standing in a room that once knew laughter and the warmth of your escapades. Only now, it’s ghostly and tired and blue. Spencer wants to defend it, wants to shout that you’re just not understanding him but it’s wrong. You understand him better than anyone ever has, and you’re immensely right, he’s abusing the situation. He knows all of this and can’t help but back peddle like his life depends on it.

“I’m not trying to toss you aside, I’m sorry.” He says, reaching out to grab you, deciding his touch can’t be your downfall.

But you side step him. “But you are, do you not understand? Use that smart head of yours to realize the instance here.” You plead. “If you’re done trying, then I am to because I have no more to give. I’m empty, you took it all from me, Spence. What do I get in return? Nothing, not even a fucking marriage.”

There’s a certain level of hurt that mixes with the anger and creates something crazy in your brain, makes it malfunction and all your repressed thoughts come out.

As you go to leave the bedroom, Spencer follows after. “What does that mean?” He asks.

You need to get out, these walls are whispering with your promises of a future, they’re getting louder.

“You aren’t going to marry me.” You state, searching for some place to hide and sink away.

“Of course I am.” He claims, calling your name to stop you.

“You can’t even pretend like you love me, Spencer, you aren’t going to marry me.”

A hand catches your arm and spins you to face him. His eyes are confused and reeling.

“I do love you, I always have.”

There’s a waver in his voice, is there?

I swallow. “Say it again. With feeling.”

“I love you!”

As the air leaves your lungs in a death rattle sort of way, you just can’t feel the warmth. It makes sense, ghosts have no heat, no matter how beloved they are. You know he expects you to give a different statement than what you do, and it hurts when you tell him the truth.

“I don’t think that’s enough now.”

“Don’t say that.” His tone comes out angrier than intended.

“I just did.”

One might describe him as a scared dog, one who lashes out now like he never used to.

“It’s not enough? Then why don’t you just spare yourself?” He spits, resembling a man you’ve never known, tossing your arm aside, probably too harshly.

The knife twists in your chest, you’re convinced you’re bleeding. Slowly, you nod. The ring seems to hold on for dear life, but you still pull it from your finger and offer it forward.

Everything inside of him feels sick as he reaches out his hand, watching as you drop the diamond into his palm.

With your heartbeat in your ears, you go to the door, sliding into your shoes and grabbing your heavy coat to brave into the weather. With Spencer calling your name, you shut the door on his impending questions of where you’re going.

Spencer stares at the door, and for a moment he can’t believe it all happened like it did. But he said the words and you followed his lead like the faithful partner you are and now you’re gone.

It takes him twenty two minutes before he begins to really panic. What if you’re gone forever? What if some force is going to take you now? Where did you go? Are you cold?

And if you left, that meant he’s alone for good, alone like he’s always been. How could he do this to you? He’s horrible, he’s a monster, all of those things he’s thought about are true.

He sets the ring on the counter, then throws the dirty coffee mug into the sink with such force, it breaks.

He paces the apartment while you stand at Penelope’s door, your dearest friend you only know because of Spencer, trying to hold it together until she comes to find you.

“What happened?” She asks, taking in your appearance.

“I don’t– know.” You sob out.

Two weeks later…

…

…It’s a weird feeling, having your spine split in half from carrying so much weight uphill for so long. You know a lot about weird feelings now, that empty space in your chest, Spencer sized, that’s your new lover.

Penelope sets a duffel bag by the pullout couch where you hardly move from, she’s been making trips to the apartment over the days to retrieve what you need.

“Hey, lovebug.” She coos softly, sitting by your knees, petting your mess of hair. “How was work?”

You open your mouth to tell her it was fine, that today was actually a good day, all the way up until Spencer texted you and asked if you wanted to move all of your things out.

A strangled sigh leaves your cracked lips.

This sums up how the last two weeks have been, and you wonder if Pen is a little embarrassed for you yet, the way you can hardly get out of bed.

“Emily and JJ and I are going out…why don’t you take a shower and come with us? It’ll make you feel better.” She says in such a gentle tone, one she’s learned that can get you to do anything.

It drags you to the shower, where you sag against the wall and do your daily crying. Then you get dressed and tame your hair and somehow make it to the bar.

Emily and JJ look at you with pity and you have no energy to be upset.

“Reid’s not enjoying it either.” Emily offers in a corner booth, because the conversation has turned to discussing the loss of your life.

Pen and JJ nod in agreement.

The BAU feels like they’re going through this break up at the way Spencer’s moods affect all of them. They’ve never known his anger like they do now, how he’s quick to snap, how the littlest thing sets him off. They’ll spare you, they won’t tell you how he swiped the picture frames off his desk, the ones of you and him. They won’t mention the fact that he hasn’t smiled once, that he looks like he doesn’t sleep.

They won’t tell you any of this but they’ll offer words of condolence or comfort, neither work.

“It’s going to be alright.” Emily encourages, squeezing your hand from across the table. “Heartache doesn’t stay forever.”

JJ nods like it’s going to fix the way you’re as empty as a drum.

“We all know how you’re feeling, don’t worry.” She says, her perfect, Barbie doll smile.

It makes you sick. You really shouldn’t take the anger out on anyone, but you do because there’s so much of it and you can’t stop it from flowing.

“You know what I’m going through?” You question her.

“Yes, I’ve had heartaches too.”

You suddenly can’t stand being here, you need to leave.

“You can go home to a husband, Jennifer, you don’t know how I feel.”

With those as your parting words, you flee, you tell Penelope you need air and you’ll see her at her apartment.

While you brave the cold city, the three women ask themselves how it could have possibly ended like this, with the greatest love of all in shambles. JJ calls Reid, of course she does.

“You need to fix this.” She tells him.

“…How is she?” He asks, sitting on the sofa, eyeing the framed pictures on the wall.

“She’s…lost. She’s ghostly, she-…Spencer, she loves you and she can’t stop. Fix it.”

“I don’t know how.” He says, monotone.

“How did it end, anyway?” She asks, seeing Emily and Penelope return with more drinks.

Spencer sort of sighs, though it’s sad and broken.

“I don’t know.”

- - - -

The air bites, it’s as cold as you feel, makes your bones ache. You wander in hopes of getting lost permanently, but to no avail, you know your city. Your city that feels so harsh and cruel, it’s one big reminder that you used to not walk the sidewalks alone, that you once stole kisses under streetlights. And as you’re walking down fifth avenue and memory lane, your feet drag you to the place you really want to go. In the time you left the bar and got frostbite from the early stages of falling snow, you’ve worked yourself up enough to believe you could stand your ground. Your anger has made a platform to stand on, you’re at the top of the fucking podium by the time you knock on the apartment door.

Why are you knocking?

Your name is on the fucking lease.

You shove the key in the lock and barge in, mouth agape, ready to fire.

And then you see it.

The bedroom door is only halfway shut, but you see movement. In the room that is gray and sullen, Spencer stands with his back to the door, staring at the cascade of white that he has laid on the bed like a memorial, like it was an open casket viewing.

Your podium shrinks.

“I was going to wear my hair up.” You say, causing him to turn and face you.

He’s tired, hair messy, unshaven, and those round brown eyes are the saddest things you’ve ever seen.

“I like your hair up.” He says, the words echo off exposed brick walls.

Heart beats pass, ba-bum ba-bum in your ears and you quickly huff and bush melted snow through your hair.

“I’ll get my things out now, if you want.” You say, choosing words carefully, eyes watching the way his avoid you.

“I don’t have any boxes.” He says, fingers brushing satin and lace before he picks the dress back up, puts it in the dust bag and death marches it to you. “You would’ve looked beautiful…you always look beautiful.”

How is it he can be so blissfully unaware? The smartest man you’ve ever known and he’s saying things to break your heart, with no clue that he’s doing it. You take that dress- that beautiful, vintage gown with the hundred fabric buttons running down the back, and lay it over your arm, then rock back on your heels.

“I can grab what I can and come by when you’re at work to get the rest.” You offer, wishing he’d say all the things you want him to say, like stay and I’m an idiot and I love you.

Spencer only nods. “Yeah. That works.”

“Okay…” You whisper, then drape the dress over the reading chair in the corner, the one too small for the both of you. You used to curl as small as possible on his lap with your legs over the arm and your head on his shoulder.

Every corner of this place is haunted.

In the closet, you pull the string and the lightbulb burns orange. You grab the two handheld suitcases, the ones you came home to find on the bed one day with Spencer telling you he was taking you to London while your school was on Spring Break.

When you come back out, Spencer’s left the room. There was no way he could watch you pull open the drawers where your things sat beside his.

With a knot in your throat, you fold and place things neatly and keep your cool like the mature adult you are.

That is until you grab the MIT t-shirt you’ve worn in. It’s a light gray color now, the neckline stretched so it only hangs right on you and not Spencer. Holding the ratty shirt you refuse to let him toss, that’s when you decide you don’t want to be a mature adult.

You’re a teenager with a broken heart is what it feels like, the world is ending and your soul has been split in half.

One tear comes, and then another, and one more until your face is soaked with your desperation and mourning. You ball that silly t shirt up at toss it away, and decide those suitcases are insufferable and onto the floor they go.

You stare at them, the clatter they made did nothing for comfort. With a raspy sigh, you sink to your knees to put everything back inside, and your blurry eyes drift to Spencer’s socks that appear in front of you after he hears the bang.

Wordlessly and gentle, he lowers his tall frame to crouch in front of you. The look in his eye is fools gold, it makes you think he’s the Spencer he was before everything.

You look at him, sure you look like a mess but you don’t care. Your chapped lips part and he’s prepared for the scolding, for your temper.

It doesn’t come.

“We were supposed to grow old together.” You sob out. “It was gonna be you and me, Spence, wearing matching outfits when we’re eighty, going to senior discount days at the theater.”

Those are the words that bring him back to reality, and the fall is harsh and he’s mortified that he’s done this to you.

You hiccup for air, pushing his hand away that tries to grab the suitcase. “I was going to walk down the aisle to an instrumental version of Heartbeat by The Fray, it’s unconventional but it’s my favorite song.”

“I know.” He whispers sadly.

“We didn’t make a deposit on that little venue with the pond, they gave our spot away but that’s okay, we were going to figure it out because we always do. We always do, Spencer.”

You’re not even sure you’re making sense but he understands, you could go mute completely and he’d understand because you’re his person, who he’s ruined.

“I know. I know, baby, I know.” He keeps repeating, adjusting to pull you away from the mess and into him.

With no strength left, you have no fuel for the fight. You fall into him, face in his chest as he sits against the bed and hugs you like he’s not seen you in years. It’s what it feels like, he hasn’t had you this close in too long. His fingers press into your skin, the warmth is almost groundbreaking in feeling, makes him unsure of where to hold you because he wants to touch everywhere, all at once. A lifeless frame full of hunger, you can’t move as you feel his caring grip in your hair, his lips to your crown as you can’t seem to get a solid breath in.

“Don’t make me leave you.” You plead, curling into him like a whimpering dog, clutching his chest to make sure there’s still a heart in there that beats for you.

Spencer’s crying now, the familiar feeling of fear in his lungs that don’t want to expand if you’re not around. He drags hair out of your face and presses his forehead to yours.

“I don’t want you to leave. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me.” He says with the emotion of the man before.

And just like that, you waltz right back into each other, you know the steps. Sitting in your fairytale, on the cold hardwood floor, listening to the steady beat of his heart, you both determine this isn’t the end of the greatest love affair they’ve ever seen.

You’re not sure how long you stay like this, in his lap, face red and salty as you stare at your bare left hand, but eventually the tears stop for the both of you. Spencer is the first to speak, he gently shifts, his hand sliding up your arm and shoulder to rest on the side of your neck, as if he’s checking your pulse.

“I’m sorry.” He rasps. “I’m sorry for everything, all of it, every single thing I did and said and ruined. I’m an idiot, angel, and you don’t know how lovely you are.”

Like water to a flame, those words are cooling. The grief and remorse in his tone makes you grab that hand checking your lifeline, and hold it.

“I’m sorry too.” You say. “For everything that went wrong and the fact I couldn’t do anything about it.”

His chest shudders, he leans down and kisses your forehead. “It doesn’t matter, it’s over now.”

You tilt your gaze up to meet his eye. “Is it?”

Bless you and the ground you walk on that he should worship better. Spencer gently runs his finger down your cheek and across your jawline. He nods then. “Yeah, baby, it is.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hurt/comfort #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler

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jawxme · 8 months ago

Text

Tuesdays.

You were almost asleep when your phone buzzed against your pillow, causing you to wake up in a bit of a shock. You hated falling asleep watching TV…but you did it almost every night. You reached under the throw pillow to find your phone. The lock screen was too damn bright, so you squinted your eyes to read the notification.

New Message: Carmy - Are you up? I know I said I didn't but I think I need you tomorrow. Can I count on you?

You read the message a few times over. You started working at Carmen Berzatto's restaurant a few weeks ago and quickly became enamored by the chef. He was handsome and smart, you couldn't help it! Between the small compliments on your dishes and the way you seemed to always give each other little smirks... you felt something. You typed back.

Yes, I can make that happen. You caught me before I fell asleep.

The little bubble popped up to show that he was typing. You couldn't help but imagine him in his own apartment, sitting on the couch or lying in bed, texting you. You held back a smile at the thought. Your phone buzzed in your hand.

Yes what? And I need you to be on time. 9 AM.

You rolled your eyes, picturing Carmen at home and smiling at his own text. You were never late. Never. And he always made fun of you for it. He said you must sit outside the door until the exact moment you are scheduled. And of course, he expect you to say Yes, Chef.

No shit. Heard. And Yes, Chef.

You smiled at your phone, rolling over onto your back. You checked the clock. 11:52pm. Damn. It was later than you thought. Your phone buzzed again.

Good. See you tomorrow.

You didn't want to say goodnight. You and Carmy had a few nights where you would text and joke around just slightly. You wanted to initiate more. You wanted to keep talking to him. You inhaled deeply and typed a response.

Carm, I have a question for you. You can tell me to fuck off and go to sleep, but I want to ask... What do you really think of me?

Your finger hovered over the send icon for a moment. You considered deleting it, but you pressed send. You watched the bubble appear as he was typing. You kept re-reading your message as he typed, feeling embarrassed you even asked. Then, you saw his message come in.

Sometimes you can be reckless and impulsive to a fault. You have a tendency to push my buttons and get on my nerves, but I appreciate your willingness to speak your mind. Overall, I’ll keep you around.

You started typing immediately before you could even think.

I'll keep that in mind. I sometimes like getting a reaction out of you, if I'm being honest. Sometimes it is nice to know I can get under your skin. I like it. Goodnight, Bear.

*************** the next day, after work ******************

Work kicked your ass. It was a very long day and Carmy was stressed and frazzled. You didn't really have any time to have a personal chat with him, it was all work-related. The only bit of reality you two had was when you dropped a pan that had been searing chicken and you looked up at him when he yelled at you. A few minutes later, he gave you the "I'm Sorry" sign language motion, and you moved on with your day. A million things went wrong during service. You wanted to talk to him again. You pulled out your phone as you sat down on the couch.

Hey, Chef. Service was crazy today. Sorry I didn't have a better grip on things. Hope you're ok. Today was chaotic.

You started making yourself a PB&J sandwich, your usual go-to when you would rather die than cook something. You were spreading the peanut butter when your phone buzzed on the counter.

I appreciate you. Chaotic is one way to describe it. But we made it through. What are you doing?

You finished your sandwich and took a bite. You stared at his message on your screen and contemplated what to say. You held your sandwich in your mouth as you started typing. Fuck it.

Making a PB&J sandwich. Don't laugh. It’s my comfort dinner... Maybe this is stupid and I am just tired, but I need to know. I know you look at me differently than you look at others like Tina. Do you find me attractive?

Send. You felt your stomach curl as you re-read your message. Fuckkkk. What if this ruined your chances of working for him for a long time? Ugh. You couldn't help it, you just had to know. You saw him typing and then not. Typing again, and then not. Shit. You flipped your phone over, you didn’t want to watch. You flipped it back over. Of course you needed to watch. You bit your lip as you saw the text come in.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't.

Christ. You felt your stomach do a few more curls as you took in what he sent. He was still typing and you waited anxiously, your thumbs hovering over the screen.

…But we have to remain professional. Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if Richie found out? We would never hear the end of it.

You knew he was right. You smirked as you typed a response.

Oh, Nat would be so smug too. We can just keep it between us.

You walked to your bed as you waited for his response. You felt high, knowing that you and Carmy were finally acknowledging this attraction. Your phone buzzed.

That is for the best. We can keep it under wraps for now. And as long as you don't push my buttons too much.

You chuckled as you responded. For now. For now. For now.

Hm. No promises on the button situation. I like to press them.

He heart-reacted to the response, a signal that he was fading away on the couch most likely. You couldn't blame him, you were exhausted.

******** the next day, after work************

The Beef closed at 6pm on Tuesdays. It was the only day that you didn't close at 10pm. Thank God. You enjoyed being able to have a little bit of evening before you collapsed in bed. You got home and jumped in the shower. You heard your phone buzz as you washed your hair. You smiled, hoping it was Carmy. You hadn't even been apart for an hour, but you secretly hoped he missed you already. You finished washing yourself before stepping out of the shower and reaching for your phone.

Today took a lot out of me, not interested in cooking. I think I'll make a PB&J. Heard you like those. Wanna join?

You held your phone close to your chest as you felt a warmth spreading through your neck and face. This was moving faster than you thought, but you weren't mad about it.

Absolutely.

You responded. You hurried to your closet and threw on leggings, a purple sweater, and your boots. You dried your hair and threw on a bit of makeup. Carmy sent you his address along with another text.

Let's keep this low-key. I've got sweatpants on and don't plan on changing.

Carmen Berzatto in sweatpants. The thought made you blush.

*************later that night, Carmy's apartment***********

You walked up to the door and knocked three times. You were so nervous it was almost unbearable. The door swung open and you saw him. Carmen was standing at the doorway and slightly leaning on the doorframe. He had on grey sweatpants and a light blue long sleeve. His eyes were complimenting the shirt nicely. Damn, was he gorgeous. He grinned as his eyes dropped to your lips and then slowly back up to your eyes. It was a slight glance but you noticed it. “Hey..." He was so quiet with his greeting you weren't sure if you imagined it. He stared at you and your eyes glanced behind him into the apartment. "Fuck, right, um...come in.” He said with a furrowed brow, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. When he wasn’t screaming in the kitchen, he was a quiet guy. He stepped to the side so you were able to step in the doorway.

You smiled and slowly looked around his apartment. It was bare. Naked. Horribly white and empty. You felt Carmen’s eyes tracking you as you looked around. “It’s not much but it serves its purpose f'me.” He brought his hand to his mouth and rubbed his chin. While you took in the apartment, he helped you take off your jacket. He tossed it onto a lamp by the front door. You cleared your throat and turned to him. “Hope this is okay…” you motioned to your outfit.

He smiled and looked down at his own outfit. “Yeah, yeah, definitely okay. When I’m not at work, I just want to…um… to be comfortable.” He tugged on the sleeves of his shirt. You stood around somewhat awkwardly as you watched him get a drink of water for you. He noticed your awkwardness and chuckled. “Sit down! You don’t have to act like a guest. Make yourself comfortable, chef.” He was trying to hide his awkwardness as well.

You sat down in the kitchen on the single stool at the bar top. Carmy started pulling out the bread, peanut butter, and jelly and assembling the sandwiches for the two of you. You still felt awkward and he knew it. “You can relax, y’know. The atmosphere here is different than the restaurant. I’m not gonna…” he sniffled, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He raised his hand to the air trying to find the rest of his sentence. “I’m not gonna uh, yell at you or anything.” You blushed hard when he said that. Of course, it filled your mind with the image of him pounding into you against the countertop and barking sexual instructions at you. You tried to stay grounded in the moment when you responded. “Right. Sorry. Those look good.” You looked at the messy sandwiches.

Carmy chuckled, his eyes glancing up at you and then back at the messy sandwiches on the bare counter. “Shut the fuck up.” He tossed the sandwiches on paper plates and put one in front of you. “Eat up, a Berzatto special.” He began. He leaned forward on the counter, only having the one stool forced him to stand. He had his elbows on the counter and leaned forward to you as you took a bite. “I’ve, uh...gotta ask… smooth or crunchy?”

You chewed your bite and covered your mouth with your hand as you licked the peanut butter from your teeth. “Oh, crunchy for sure.” You muttered. Carmy gently slapped the counter and brought his tattooed hand up to his curly locks and raked his fingers through. His arms looked so muscular and perfect… “Correct answer! Didn’t know you were a peanut butter aficionado.” You grinned. “Of course. You’ve gotta have some texture in the sandwich, or else it’s just-“ “Too fuckin' mushy. Yeah, yeah.” Carmen nodded as he finished your sentence and also his sandwich with a huge bite.

Carmy’s eyes were glued to you as you finished up your sandwich. He wasn’t afraid of staring, that’s for sure. The edges of his mouth curled up slowly, he enjoyed watching you eat the food he made. Even if it was just a PB&J.

After you finished, Carmy took your paper plate and threw it away. “I, uh... Couch?” He mumbled, his arm outstretched to you as he stood on the other side of the kitchen. You wanted to grin at the way he couldn't formulate a proper question, but you didn't think you'd be able to either. You nodded, standing up. He kept his hand reached out, so you took his hand. He led you to the couch. You were obsessed with the fact that you were holding hands with Carmen. It was a ratty old couch. His setup was pretty awful. His little TV was balanced on a card table and the cords were a mess.

He flicked the television on to a random cooking show as you both sat down and then tossed the remote onto the coffee table that was covered in old bills and paperwork from The Beef. The couch was old and sunken in, not ideal for sitting apart from each other. His body immediately slid closer to you and he tossed his arm over your shoulders. “Comfy?” He asked, peering down at you from the corner of his eyes. He didn’t turn to face you, or else your faces would’ve been almost touching. You felt a surge of confidence and you turned your head towards him, gently placing your chin on his shoulder and cuddling up to him. He peeked down at you with that grin once again, the sides of his mouth curling up just slightly. “Very comfy.” You answered him.

You studied Carmen’s face. He had very strong features. His eyes sunk in a way that made him look perpetually sleep deprived. His nose and jaw were both chiseled to perfection. His lips had the perfect “M” curvature. You loved his lips, you would frequently catch yourself staring at them while he smoked cigarettes in front of you. The way the cigarette clung to his upper lip while he spoke would never fail to mesmerize you. He had a slight stubble, but not a beard. His hair was always so fucking messy and disheveled looking, but in a sexy way. Carmen didn’t have to even try to look good. Your thoughts were halted by Carmy placing his hand on your knee. “You uh... See something y'like?” He asked, referencing the way you were just completely staring at him. You felt your face flush. “Sorry, Carm. I am just not used to seeing you in this type of environment. It’s so different. Like… I’m just seeing you as Carmy, not Chef Carmen Berzatto. It’s different for me.”

“Is it, uh....Good different?” He asked, tilting his head slightly as he turned to look at you. You softly nodded. “Okay.” He whispered. He gently placed his left hand on the side of your face, turning you to completely face him. His thumb gently grazed across your soft skin on your cheek. Your breathing stopped as you looked into his eyes. His stare was almost like a begging, his eyes speaking a language without even trying.

He studied your face, his eyes lingering on your mouth for a moment before sliding his hand up slightly to cup your jaw. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip in a gentle but firm swipe. You felt yourself melting under his touch. You inhaled sharply, your eyes fixed on his face as they slowly swam around your facial features. He smiled slightly when he heard your breath catch. His other hand was still on your knee. He gently tugged on your leg, helping your body pivot towards him.

You leaned in close to his face, the tension thicker than you thought possible. He slowly and carefully touched his lips to yours. You were surprised how gentle it was, but that didn’t last incredibly long. As soon as your lips touched, he pressed his tongue into your mouth. You felt how desperate he was to be close to you. The hand on your jaw moved to the nape of your neck and he kept you pulled close. He tasted like cigarettes and cologne. His grip loosened and you whimpered into the kiss, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long…” You felt him smile into the kiss as he replied. “Me too, but uh...stop talking now?”

He dropped his hands to your waist and gave you a playful squeeze. You continued to make out with Carmy for who knows how long. His strong arm wrapped around your waist as your body twisted on the couch. He pulled you in even closer, his other hand tangling in your hair. He nibbled your lip gently as he let go of your waist. “Lie back."

You did as you were told and leaned back so you lay flat on the couch. He crawled on top of you without breaking the kiss for more than a few seconds. He placed himself between your legs as his kiss deepened. You’ve never had a kiss like this. It’s like your brain was able to completely shut off, the natural rhythm you both shared was exactly synced up.

You arched your back slightly in efforts to draw yourself closer to him. You peeked your eyes open to see Carmen’s face, completely relaxed and soft. His eyes were closed softly, his eyelashes fluttering lightly. His usually furrowed brow was relaxed for the first time that you had seen. Carmy broke the kiss as he pushed himself up slightly. His curls fell and his upper lip was wet with saliva. “Fuck me.” He whispered as he grinned.

You weren’t sure if that was meant as a compliment or…a request? Carmen cussed a lot. Sometimes it was because something was bad, but sometimes it was because something was really good. You hoped the latter. He slid his hand underneath the hem of your sweater, his fingers grazing over your bare skin. He moved his hand up your stomach and rested it right below your breast. His mouth hovered so close to yours, but far enough that you couldn’t kiss him. “You’re wearing too much.” He whispered as his fingers danced circles on your skin.

You both sat up, Carmen ripped his long sleeve shirt over his head, tousling his hair. You pulled your sweater off and unhooked your bra before throwing them both to the floor. Carmen took a moment to admire your naked chest. “Fuck, you’re uh... you're beautiful.” He mumbled. He reached behind you and laid you down again on the couch. He started placing soft kisses along your neck. His upper lip dragging along your skin between kisses. He left a trail of kisses down to your right nipple before sucking on it softly. You felt yourself melt even further into the couch.

He continued kissing lower until he passed your bellybutton and reached the waistband of your leggings. “Fuck, Carmy…” you whimpered as he dipped his tongue under the waistband, teasing you like crazy. You looked down and saw his nose pressed against your belly as he kissed your skin so desperately. You lifted up your lower half and he immediately grabbed your leggings and slid them down, your panties too. His hands found your upper thighs and he spread your legs slightly.

He kissed the soft skin on your inner thighs and looked up at you. The curls were tickling your skin as his eyes met your gaze. “Do you want me to go down on you?” He asked. Obviously. Duh. Please. Fuck yes. Now. You wanted to scream but all you could do was mutter “Yes…” between gasps. He kissed the spot right above your clit, humming as he did so. “Yes what?” He asked with confidence.

This made you inhale sharply because you knew exactly what he wanted you to say. Your mouth opened slightly as you stared down at him, his eyebrows raised but his eyes focused. “Yes, Chef.” You whispered. He smirked and slid down lower between your legs. He pushed your leggings completely off and grabbed your knees, placing them on his shoulders. “That's right...” he softly praised you as his lips met your core.

Instinctually, your hands grabbed Carmen's curls. You couldn't help it. The way his tongue repeatedly stroked you was driving you insane right away. You tugged on his hair and held him as close as you could. You felt his thumbs on either side of your opening, pressed into you and holding your legs open for his face. His nose was nuzzled against your clit while he ate you out, and you had no complaints.

Two of his fingers dipped between your folds and sunk deep into you. You whined loudly, craving more of him. Usually, you were fairly self-concious about your body and any noises you would make during sex... but with Carmy, you just didn't care. The pleasure was too overwhelming. He was still his shy, awkward self... but during this, Carmen had a surge of confidence, almost like he knew how good he was. He scooted up so his face was close to yours, his fingers still working at your core. "My fingers feel fuckin' good, hm?" He whispered as his lips hovered over yours.

Your face suddenly flushed with embarrassment as you opened your eyes and saw Carmy watching your facial expressions. You reached your hands up and covered your face, but then you felt his fingers stop moving inside you. "No, no, no don't...don't uh, don't cover your face, okay? I like to watch you enjoy it." Carmy whispered, nudging your hands away with his nose. You moved your hands from your face to the sides of his neck and played with his curls. "Yeah, like that...I dunno, it's uh, it's sexy f'me to watch." He grinned and blushed, and so did you.

You felt a surge of your own confidence. "Now you lay down." You whispered and pushed against Carmy's chest. He did not struggle as he quickly leaned back and flopped backwards on the couch. He watched as with wide eyes as you stood up off the couch and found your place on top of him.

You liked the view of being on top of Carmy. His hair was messy, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips still shiny. His hands immediately found your thighs and hips. He gave them an affectionate squeeze and ran his hands up and down your thighs. He reached his hands towards your face and placed them on your cheeks and sides of your neck. "C'mere..." He whispered. You leaned down and he closed the gap between your mouths. He captured you in a deep and passionate kiss. You rocked back and forth with the kiss, creating some friction against the hardness you could feel in his sweatpants.

He broke off the kiss for a moment and held the sides of your face softly. "You're driving me crazy, y'know that?" He whispered before he went back to kissing you. His tongue was stale with cigarette smoke mixed with your own juices and he was an excellent kisser. Carmen looked down, his hands finding his waistband and tugging at his sweats. "Gotta get these off..." He started pulling them down. You realized he didn't have any boxers on, so when you began helping him pull them down, his hard erection popped out and lay against his lower midsection.

With his waistband now down at his knees, he pulled your hips back down on top of him. He groaned when he felt your wet folds against his cock, they slid up and down on him so perfectly as you shifted your weight. You wanted to tease Carmy.

You began grinding against him, letting your wet folds slide the length of him. Each time you reached his perfect pink head, you paused, wanting to drive him up the wall. You were succeeding. His cheeks flushed more with each glide against his length. His head fell back against the couch cushion as he let out a low groan, his hands desperately gripping your waist in an attempt to adjust your hips for him to enter you. That same feeling of confidence spilled out as you spoke. "Fuck, Carmy, you really want me, don't ya?"

He was growing more desperate with each moment that passed, but hearing you say that made his cock twitch. "Fuck, yeah I do, I really want ya..." he groaned as he reached up to your chest and his hands cupped both of your breasts. "Please, I..." He begged, sighing.

You lifted your hips slightly as you wrapped your hand around his length and held him vertical as you slid down on top of him. The moment his head fully entered you, you both let out a moan. Carmy's moan was desperate and whiny. He was melting. He needed you so badly. His fingers were digging into your hips as you settled back down on top of him, his length stretching you out. He lifted his hips barely to make sure all of him could be inside you. "F-fuck... feels so amazin'..." He whispered between breaths.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He was so submissive for you. He watched in awe, his lips parted as you started riding him slowly. His hands were strong against your hips, but not hurting you. He was attempting to let you set the pace, but his begging grip was speaking for itself. "C'mere..." He exhaled, wanting to kiss you. You leaned forward as you kept riding him. Your mouths met in a messy, desperate kiss. His hand tangled in your hair. His voice was ragged and breathless as he whispered, "Y'feel so fuckin' good. Don't stop ridin' me."

He groaned as he felt you move faster, his cock sliding in and out of you easier. You slowed your pace as you grinned, wanting to torture him a little bit. You bit your lip as he looked at you. That desperate look was gone from Carmy's eyes though. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and shot up, picking you up and stumbling over to the kitchen counter. He sat you on the countertop, his cock still inside you. He pulled your hips down until you were hanging off the edge, just perfectly so he could fuck you.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest with the sudden power swap. Carmy stared into your eyes as he thrust once, his cock going all the way inside you before sliding out.... and then he did it again. He started fucking you on his countertop. You moaned with each thrust, being completely filled up each time. Carmy was out of breath, but he whispered, "Feels so good, yea?" You nodded your head and exhaled, "Yes.... yes..." Carmy's tattooed hand grabbed your chin roughly which made your eyes shoot open. He was still fucking you at a decent pace, but he held your face still. His eyes wandered to your lips as he softly exhaled "Yes what?"

Fuck, he was so sexy like this. "Yes, Chef." You whined, throwing your head back as he picked up the pace. He loved your compliance, the way you whined your responses. His breath hitched as he felt you wrap your legs around him, pulling him in closer. He grabbed your hips, pulling you even closer to the edge of the countertop, begging the space between you two to dissolve. "Fuck." He grunted.

You felt a heat rising in your lower belly. You knew once you felt this, you weren't going to last much longer. "Carm, I'm... I'm gonna cum..." You mewled as he grunted as a response. His thrusts were irregular and needy, you knew he was close to his orgasm as well. You clawed at his neck, begging for a kiss. He leaned forward and your tongues met in an incredibly sloppy kiss. Carmy's breath was hitching and shaking as he got closer, which made you focus on yours.

You felt the wave building up, the heat growing in your belly, and you snapped your eyes open to watch Carmy start to come undone. "Oh, fuck!" He grunted as he let his orgasm loose. This caused you to teeter over the edge and plunge into the depth of your orgasm as well.

Your brain felt fuzzy. The sound of the both of you breathing heavy was filling the air. Carmy was still inside you, almost holding you in a hug as he caught his breath. He placed kisses against your neck as he took deep breaths through his nose. "Ssshit, that was good." He hissed, taking a step back and allowing his now limp cock to slide out of you. You giggled at the sight of him, all disheveled and exhausted. His eyes were wide and sunken as he rubbed his face, droplets of sweat falling from his brow.

He reached for a dish towel and wiped himself off before gingerly cleaning you up. You sat on the countertop, allowing him to wipe you clean. He took a step back and you hopped down from the counter. He grinned and looked down at the floor and started softly laughing. "What!" You gasped as you started giggling yourself. "Nothin', that was just... really fuckin' good." You loved the way he looked when he laughed, his wrinkles by his eyes and the slight crinkle of his nose.

You giggled as he brought you a blanket to cover yourself with. "Well, fuck, I didn't know if we would go all the way tonight or just dip our toes in..." He said, still chuckling as his hair fell over his forehead. "Me either." You agreed. Carmy reached his hand out and helped you walk over to his bedroom. Again, a pathetic room with no decorations, just a plain bed against a plain wall. "Sleep with me tonight? I'll set an alarm bright and early so uh, you can get home before we gotta work...and maybe we can do this every Tuesday, if y'want." His hands raked through his curls again as he blushed softly. God, he was so cute. "Sure. Yes." You smiled. Carmy's eyes shifted as he got serious again. "Yes what?"

You rolled your eyes and laid down on his bed. "Yes, CHEF." You laughed. He snickered as he laid down beside you, reaching his arm over to cuddle you. "Ok, good..." He confirmed. "Tuesdays."

#jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto #carmy x you #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #jaw

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partycatty · 1 year ago

Note

giggling at this idea i just thought of but would u consider... hear me out... mk1 johnny finding out that reader has a body pillow of him? like those anime ones but bcs he's a celebrity, someone made one of him too 💀 & reader secretly bought it and tried to hide it/deny it but johnny sees all fr fr

i wrote this and then it got DELETED i almost cried

johnny cage > superfan

johnny never visited your place, but now he sees why.

notes: the way i used to unironically have a bodypillow of a character i'd rather die than admit... this hits so close to home

[ masterlist ]

you and johnny were an unlikely pair in the grand scheme of things. you were a toned down worker in your own field while his face was plastered on every billboard, magazine, and teenage girl's home screens. at the end of the day, though, you were both humans in love and that's all that genuinely mattered.

johnny's arm that was slung around you as you two cuddled on his couch shakes you back to reality.

"you know what's funny?" he suddenly brings up, closing the tiktoks you were watching together. "we always come to my place. never yours. i've only ever seen the inside when i pick you up."

there wasn't a hint of annoyance or accusatory language in his voice; he was curious. as he typically is.

"i don't know," you shrug nonchalantly, hoping to get the topic over with. "your place is nicer." this was entirely true. despite downsizing after his divorce and other events he has yet to disclose to you, he still had a truly nice home. it radiated the energy of a celebrity without needing the size, but was just homey enough for you to spend your nights there when you felt like it.

"so?" his eyebrow quirks up.

"so, it's better to hang out here. my apartment isn't all that exciting, not a lot of room to do much."

"but it's the person that excites me," he replies quickly, kissing your forehead. "plus, all we usually do is sit on my couch here. what's the difference of doing it there?"

as your mouth opens and closes to try and dismiss the subject, johnny turns to face you completely with a beaming grin.

"can i come over tomorrow?" he asks, like it's your first date with him. his eyes are bright, like a kid asking for permission from his mother. you couldn't even bring yourself to look him in the eyes as you swallow hard. there wasn't necessarily a true reason to not have him over, but preparing for his arrival would take a considerable amount of effort to... redecorate. finally, you nod with a sheepish smile, and johnny plants a slap-like kiss to your lips as a thank you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the following morning, you were throwing your piles and piles of collectibles into boxes and shoving them into your closet. the replica of his brass knuckles or figurines of ninja mime had to go before he arrived. johnny couldn't know that on top of being his girlfriend, you were a fan. and not just any fan, a superfan. every piece of evidence had to be thrown into a corner lest you face his endless prodding and teasing. besides, even if he was a celebrity, he probably didn't expect his partner to have such belongings. it felt... wrong. but even still, you couldn't help but support him in his works!

a knock at the door makes you visibly jump as you're kicking the last of the merch under your couch. wiping your hands, you race to the front door and take a deep breath, making sure you plugged in your wall scents and lit your candles. you swing it open and johnny peeks his head in, glancing around with his typical grin. he puts his sunglasses atop his head to adjust to the indoor lighting, a curious glint in his eye.

"i don't know what you were talking about," johnny finally says, hands on his hips. "it's nice here. quaint."

"i think that's just calling me poor politely," you reply as you fight a smirk. johnny tenses up, already apologetic before you reach up to kiss his check. "i'm teasing, dear. now what?"

"a movie?"

"not one of yours."

"we didn't even finish citizen cage last time!"

you roll your eyes at his puppy-like stare. you immediately cave in with a huff. as his own version of a thank you, johnny swoops over and picks you up, sure to support your ass more than your thighs as they wrap around his waist. he shoots you a devious grin, as if to say "i can't help it!"

you're playfully tossed onto the couch, and you have just enough time to chuck a throw pillow in his direction as he heads toward your bedroom.

"i'm stealing your comforter," he announces. "since i don't see a regular blanket around here." you gulp, remembering your johnny cage themed throw blanket that once laid on that very couch. thankfully, it's buried under your other laundry.

"not everyone has blankets for every occasion!" you shout back, settling into your new spot and allocating space for his large body. that is, until you hear eruptive laughter come from your room. of course it was johnny, but the laugh was so hysterical, so out of character, you partially wondered if he had gotten possessed. "babe?" as you're about to rise from your spot, johnny responds in an unusually high pitched voice, strained from the cackling.

"why do you have this?!" his grin is audible, dripping from his upward inflection. your stomach drops, but you try to play dumb in case it's not what you expect.

"have what?" your voice is low, unwilling to give anything away. your question is answered when johnny emerges from the hallway, holding up your dakimakura with one hand, slung around its painted shoulder.

your face heats up in record time. it's a drawing - a realistic one - of johnny, laying down. the other side features the same, except blushing and only in boxers. you must have forgot to fully hide it, and left it on your bed like a fool. and what a fool you were for thinking a simple blanket would conceal it. times like these you wish you could afford a throw blanket to bury yourself in it and hope he'd go away.

"if you wanted me in your bed, you could've just asked," he giggles to himself, admiring the possession. "hey, at least they got my features right."

"please put that away before i die of embarrassment," you quietly beg, voice muffled by your head in your hands.

"really though, doll," johnny's smile doesn't disappear, just lessens. "why, of all things, do you own a bodypillow of me?"

"it was limited edition," you mutter. "the artist put it on sale."

"limited edition? you're a collector?"

shit. you sold yourself.

"maybe."

"collector of what?"

"...paraphernalia."

"i could deduce that. i won't judge you, honey." he kneels down to meet your level, putting his hands on your knees as he sets the pillow down beside you.

"i, uh... i collect things. related to you." johnny's face freezes, lip twitching in amusement as you continue to defend yourself. "i'm not weird about it, though."

"except for the pillow."

"50% went to charity!"

"touché. don't worry about it, sugar," johnny kisses your forehead. "there are worse things to collect. if anything, you're pretty lucky to have a famous boyfriend. lots of stuff to collect. you want one of my shirts? i'll sign it for you—"

"enough, enough," you giggle, swatting your hands at nothing. "this is already mortifying for me. you should see the rest—" you stop in your tracks, smile dropping in an instant.

"there's more?" as he asks, you two stare at each other in disbelief. and before you could react, he darts off to your bedroom, pushing himself off of the wall as he nearly runs into it. you shout-laugh as you follow after him.

"JOHNNY!" as you turn the corner to stand in your bedroom doorway, johnny charges at you and slings you over his shoulder. all you can do is half-resist his grip as he swings your closet door open. your legs kick against his body, and you're slapping his back. "DON'T LOOK!!"

"i can't not look!" he protests, patting your ass playfully. his hand falls to his hip as he inspects your crammed closet just as his grin widens once more. "is that a life-size ninja mime cutout?"

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #marley writes ☆

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sscieloz · 1 year ago

Text

Sunday afternoon shenanigans

Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader

Synopsis: you were having a Sunday off at the dorm and you were bored out of your mind when you remember Ningning’s vibrator hidden in one of her drawers. you’ve decided to have some fun, after all, but of course Giselle never knocks.

Warnings: smut? I guess. dom!giselle x sub!reader.

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED MY BELOVEDS.

Pt. 1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

It was a slow Sunday at the dorm. Karina and Winter had gone out shopping and Ningning was in China on one of her solo schedules, which left you and Giselle alone, all bored and tedious. You’ve been staring at your room’s ceiling (which you shared with Minjeong), for quite a while now, wondering what to do to kill off the boredom. Your mind wandered to something you remembered spotting in Ning’s room, once, when you were looking for a shirt she had borrowed ages ago. Remembering the big, bright-green toy in Ning’s drawers, you’ve impulsively decided you were done waiting for someone gross to finally fuck you; you’d do it yourself, instead.

That thought left you staring at the thing, still eyeing the vibrator suspiciously after wondering if you weren’t just too bored, and all. Surely, Ningning wouldn’t mind (or she would, but you’d by her another weird dildo if she fussed too much about you using it).

However, you had no idea of how that whole sex thing worked in practice. Sure, you’ve watched porn and listened to your bandmates ramble about their escapades, but it simply wasn’t the same. You huffed, frustrated but determined to but an end to it, after all.

“Hey, the girls were wondering if you’d like them to bring something to eat when they get ba-”Giselle stopped herself mid-sentence as she barged into your room, no doubt surprised by the sight of you with your hands down your shorts and the neon green vibrator one of your hands.

You jumped on your bed, pushing Giselle out of the bedroom as you cursed her out.

“What the fuck, unnie? Don’t you ever fucking knock? Doors are closed for reasons.”

You seriously wanted to die. And kill her. Then die and kill her again. You felt your face getting flushed with bright red as you hit your head on the door, hearing your friend’s laugh through the wood.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll just let the girls know you’re not… hungry. For food.” Another laugh echoed, and you knocked your head stronger. “I’m sorry, ok Yn? Let me in… please?”

Giselle was met with silence, as you were still trying to figure out how to flush your head down the toilet after being caught in such a scene by one of your bandmates and best friends.

“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with getting yourself off, ok? It’s like, super natural. It’s not like we don’t masturbate, either.” She kept on talking, and you could picture her looking at her nails with her bored expression, tiny nose and monotonous voice, “In fact, I really should get a new vibrator for myself too. I feel like mine’s fucked up with the batteries or something. Although, of course I won’t get one in that hideous color like yours and-“

“Ugh, it’s not mine!” You said, giving up on ignoring the shorter girl and deleting yourself from earth. With an exasperated sigh, you pulled her by the arms, making sure to close the door well enough this time. “Just shut your fucking mouth, unnie God.” You muttered, preparing yourself to explain the whole situation to her.

(…)

“Why is it so green, though?” You questioned Giselle, turning the vibrator upside down with 2 of your fingers, almost unsure of how to manage it.

The two of you were sitting in your bed after you explained the entire idea to your friend, hoping she wouldn’t find you too pathetic. Thankfully, the only thing that truly made Giselle wrinkle her nose at was the color of the thing.

“How would I know? Ning’s weird as fuck. Maybe it’s a kink of hers or something.” Giselle scoffed, also looking a bit disgusted by the device’s bright color, and you hummed in approval.

It was very Ningning coded, indeed.

The silence after your conclusion was awkward, and you intended to give your friend an excuse to exit your room when she uttered, out of nowhere, “I could help you out, you know.”

“E-excuse me?” You gagged. This afternoon just kept getting odder and odder.

You mean, it’s not like you and Giselle weren’t close, which you were. You’ve changed, bathed and shared more intimate moments together than you could ever remember. It’s just… this was different. Very different.

“I could help you with what you… want.” She sounded almost unsure, even though she nudged you playfully. “Come on, it’s not like you know anything in practice.”

“No need to flatter yourself, huh.”

“I’m just saying,” she continued, ignoring your bitter tone, “that I could make you feel good. And that’s what you want, right? I mean, that’s what sex is about anyway.”

You were still not fully convinced, but you were eyeing her more attentively now. Sensing you were almost giving in, she plucked one of your locks out of your face. “It’s really not the big of a deal you think it is, Yn. It’s just sex, and we’re friends. Right?”

“...Yeah, right.”

This was obviously a stupid, impulsive, brainless idea, to have sex for the first time with one of your bandmates. While your other bandmates weren’t home.

You took a deep breath, nudging Giselle back and laughing as she looses balance and almost falls from your bed.

“Fine. Let’s do it, then.”

(…)

“So... should I just put it in?”

“What? No!” Giselle looks at you with big eyes, giggling a little. She stopped when you kept on staring at her, now realizing you were serious about not knowing how to do this. She took the toy from your hands before frowning at it, then sizing you up. “Well, not at first, at least. You’re not even wet. This way it won’t fit, and it will be too painful.”

“It’ll be painful anyway.” you grumbled, allowing her to spread your legs to place herself between them. Aeri massages your thighs before giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Not really, no.” she can tell you’re nervous by the way your eyes never meet hers, and you keep twitching as if to fight the urge to close your legs and dress yourself. “It might be uncomfortable at first, but then it’s like... a nice kind of discomfort.” her fingers tease the hem of your shorts, lightly brushing your abdomen. Ever since she’s caught you in your room and offered to help, Giselle has been nothing but patient. “You don’t have to do it, though.” she reminds you, still caressing your body. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin and-“

“I-“ you took a deep breath, finally gathering enough courage to stand on your elbows and look at her, although you still sounded unsure. “I do want to do it. I’m just ashamed, I guess. You can admit that it’s a bit pathetic, no problem.”

Giselle giggled again, this time with her fingers accompanying her light posture are they ran through your body, picking on your waist and poking your ribs in the places she knows you feel ticklish the most. You laugh and try to squirm under her touch — you’re taller, much taller, but she is stronger, so she quickly strands you entirely, hands locking your wrists up in your head so you couldn’t move or try to get on top of her.

“Hey, no fair! Let me go!” you plead, but your laughter and the weak way you try to run from her is all Giselle needs to know her mission has succeeded: you’re way less tense now.

“You’re so cute, Yn. it’s adorable, really.” she says, kissing each of your cheeks repeatedly. You try your best not to blush.

Even though you were the group’s maknae, you weren’t often reckoned as such, with your height making you impose and usually not the cute girl type. You didn’t mind it, either; you’d rather jump off a bridge than do aegyo anyway.

One of Giselle’s hands let go of your wrists to make its way down your abdomen again, though the other one kept holding you in place. Her featherlight touches still made you squirm, but she held you with such care, you couldn’t help but to feel safe.

“Is it ok if I take this off?” she asked, gripping at your panties as she scanned you for any reservations. You tensed again, but as you opened your mouth to say it was ok, she cut you, “it’s ok, then. We’ll just push it to the sides.”

Giselle knew how insecure you were about your body. The girls were always teasing you and karina for wearing the clothes with most fabric, and you often laughed about it. It was only now, in your newest comeback, that you were beginning to try new things and riskier, revealing outfits. She never understood it, though. You were praised by numerous knetz about your body; how toned, and athletic you were, with your long legs and gracious arms, fit for a supermodel. Which you have been since your teens, for a fact. The company had recently signed you off with Valentino and you were absolutely outstanding walking in Paris Fashion Week, which Karina had also attended, though not as a model. She did try her best to always praise how beautiful you were, though, to make sure you knew it.

True to her word, Aeri tapped your hips, and you raised them as she slipped your shorts past your legs and threw them on your bedroom floor. Your panties were pushed to the sides, as promised, but before her fingers could reach your pussy, the older girl lifted herself up from between your thighs, a slight frown on her face.

“What’s wrong, Unnie?” You asked her, looking for any signs of trouble in her yourself. Did you do anything wrong? Should you touch her, too? Does she even want to be touched? Fuck, you were so bad at this. Perhaps if you were any bolder, you would’ve gotten laid already and wouldn’t be in this pathetic situati-

“It’s all ok, Yn-,” Giselle reassured you, squeezing your hips to snap yourself away from your thoughts and back to her, to this. Now that you noticed it, she was gripping each of your thighs with her hands, and her face was too close to your core. Too fucking close. You felt your face get hot and a familiar sensation build up on your lower abdomen. (You weren’t a total prude, of course you’ve touched yourself before, even if it wasn’t often.). “I think my fingers will hurt you if we do them now, though. But don’t worry, I’ll prep you up.”

“What do you mean with prepping me u-oh fuck,” you drop your head on the bedside as she finally gave your pussy a long lick, delighting herself as she saw how responsive you were. Smaller, quieter ones followed, and soon the older girl was nearly making out with her dripping cunt.

You bit your lip, trying not to make any noise, but soon your bandmate’s fingers brushed your lips, forcing their way in.

“Don’t silence yourself,” she told you, watching you suck on her thumb so prettily. It made her so aroused to see how good you were at this. At following commands—her commands. It made Giselle want to rip the rest of your clothes and take you until you were crying for her to let go of you. “It will feel better if you let the sounds out, trust me.” She cupped your jaw before going back to eating you out, so you did as told, not bothering to hide how good this was making you feel at all.

“Ok...” you mumbled, moaning loudly as she teased you with her mouth. You arched your back whenever Aeri slipped her tongue into your dripping cunt, her nose brushing against your clit. The friction it made was out of this world, and you felt the waves of pleasure building up slowly but deliciously to create an entirely new feeling.

“Is it good?” She asked, her hot breath on clit before she gave it a light suck. You nodded, “Tell me.”

“S’too good, oh fuck.” You managed to answer her, breathless. One of your hands grabbed her hair, and you tried to shove her face even deeper into your pussy, but it made Giselle stop instead. You rolled your eyes at her. She was too bossy. “Sorry, unnie. More, please?” You were rewarded, then, as Giselle’s attention went back to your clit, circling it hard and fast as her hands pulled on your panties with enough strength to rip it off.

She grabbed your thighs and gave your clit a hard suck, making you almost scream. You cried loudly as you were hit by a hard wave of pleasure, with Giselle still licking you through your high, her eyes trained on your frame.

She got up and made her way up to you, promptly kissing you with her lips smeared with your juices. “Next time, tell me when you’re close, ok?” She asked, brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You nodded, still brushing her lips.

You could feel her hands in the hem of your hoodie and your shirt, and she stopped the kiss to gesture for you to get your arms up, which you did. Soon you were bare to her, a bit shy from the way her eyes were darkened and she stared at your chest with such lust. You tried to cover yourself, but Giselle was quick to replace your hands with hers instead, cupping your breasts eagerly.

“So pretty, Yn...” she said, and soon you two were making out again, with you on her lap. Your brain had long been reduced to mush and your sole focus was on Giselle: the way her hair was perfectly in place, hands running through all your body.

She was painfully clothed, though, you noticed. A clear contrast to your exposure. You told her just that, trying to get off of her so she’d undress too, but you weren’t allowed.

“Of course I am, silly.” She smiled at you, “This isn’t about me anyways.” And as she reached for you once again, you couldn’t find much strength to be bothered enough to argue, too busy with her kisses and touches. You couldn’t muster how long the two of you spent like that, just exploring each other’s bodies, but it was long enough for you to feel the heat building up on your core a second time, making you worry you were making a mess on Giselle’s thigh.

You tensed when you felt her fingers brushing your entrance, not quite entering but teasing, gathering your slick before going up on your clit, circling it for a few times then presenting themselves again on your pussy.

“Shh, it’s ok,” she cooed, placing wet kisses on your neck. She gently sucked on your pulse point, making you drop your head and moan embarrassingly loud. Thank God the girls were out. “It’s just one finger. You’ve taken fingers before, right?”

You shook your head, whining when you felt it enter you. It burned a little, and it was clearly too tight, but you already felt your entire body burning up. It was too good to stop. She stopped the work on your neck to stare at you, and you saw her eyes darken.

“No fingers? Not even yours?” She gripped your thighs harder, urging you to answer, but you were too busy rocking yourself against her hand to create more friction, anything to deepen this feeling that was already so, so good, “Answer me when I talk to you, yn.” Giselle’s tone was harsh, and you flinched a little. She curled another finger inside you, making you rock yourself onto her faster.

“It d-didn’t do anything when I did it by myself before, so I would just p-play with my clit until I came-oh God.” You squeezed your eyes as she added a second finger, increasing her rhythm.

She was breathless, too, you noticed as she kissed your chest, pinching your nipples and sucking on your breasts without caring if it was messy.

“Fuck, yn. You’ll drive me fucking insane” she murmured. You couldn’t even answer, reduced into a pool of cries and whimpers, but it just felt so good it made you want to cry. How could you have gone so long without it?

Giselle’s grip on you was strong, whether it was in your arms, hips, or thighs, and it would surely bruise later, but you didn’t care a single bit. All you wanted was for her to go harder and faster, not stopping.

“Unnie, please.” You pleaded, searching for her lips as you kissed her sloppily. “More, please, please, ah...” now you were deeply thankful that jimin and minjeong were out. There was no way your moans weren’t being echoed through the entire dorm.

It didn’t matter, though, because your cries rewarded you with an even faster pace, and the pain of being stretched as now only a reminder of the combo of sensations you were feeling.

“You’re such a mess right now, yn.” Giselle told you, her hands on your hips to keep you grinding on her without losing the fast pace. “So, so pretty.” She praised, pecking your lips.

You got shy, hiding your face in the crook of her neck to keep her from noticing how much that aroused you, feeling the familiar heat gathering in your belly.

“Aeri stop, I-I’m gonna,” you motioned to stop, but she only gripped you tighter.

“It’s ok, baby, don’t stop. Come for me.” She commanded, working her fingers even faster as she added her thumb to your clit and circled it fast. With a few strokes, you came.

Your vision went black, and you felt your body go numb, almost as though there were a million fireworks exploding inside of you. You felt Giselle’s hand on your back, tracing light circles as she held you close, still snuggled to her. You took your time evening your breaths, and a few minutes passed until you felt strong enough to get out of her lap and lay in bed, staring at her attentively.

“That was...” you didn’t even know what to say. “Amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it before.” You told Aeri, meeting her gaze.

She licked her fingers clean, the ones who were buried deep inside you just a few moments ago, letting them go with an audible ‘pop’.

“You did very good, baby.” She said, hugging you gently. “I’m glad you liked it. I told you it was good.”

“I guess.” You murmured, closing your eyes for a few seconds. It had been intense, but now you felt like a big-ass truck had run over you multiple times.

The sound of the shower being turned on made you open your eyes again, seeing Aeri besides you, a glass of cold water in your hands.

“Here, take it,” she motioned to you, who complied immediately, drinking it all pretty fast. “How about you take a bath now, huh? The girls might be back anytime.” You nodded, not wanting them to see you like that, and you took the hand Giselle offered to get up and go to the bathroom.

You did see something green displayed on the ground when you’ve reached your bathroom door, though, and you laughed a little to yourself.

“Unnie?”

“Yeah, Yn?”

“We didn’t even use the vibrator.” You pointed it out, seeing Aeri’s big smirk. The girl’s mouth opened in a fake motion as she grabbed it, taking it out of the room with her.

“I guess we forgot. We’ll have to save it for next time, then.” She winked at you, leaving you to shower alone.

Giselle would be caught dead if she wasn’t going to corrupt you all to herself.

#aespa giselle #aespa #aespa scenarios #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa winter #aespa karina #aespa ningning #giselle x reader #aerichandesu #aeri uchinaga #aeri uchinaga x reader #giselle smut #kpop smut #sol writes #sol’s works #s.writes

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 1 year ago

Text

More Than This // Chad Meeks Martin x Reader x Ethan Landry*

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: ethan landry is completely and totally hopelessly in love with you. the only problem? you're in a happy relationship with his roommate and best friend, chad.

warnings: language, a shit ton of angst, crying, smut, a wee bit of voyerism, masturbating (m), cumming in pants, yelling, ethan having impure thoughts about reader

word count: 3.1k

a/n: reader is referred to as girlfriend, but there's nothing specifically mentioned about gender other than that. no description of reader, other than being mentioned as shorter than chad. chad and reader are dating. there isn't any relationship going on between reader and ethan. no ghostface au. also this is my first time writing smut in a while so i hope it's alright!

part 2 part 3

I'm broken, do you hear me?

I'm blinded, 'cause you are everything I see

I'm dancing alone, I'm praying

That your heart will just turn around

Ethan frowned as he looked over at you and Chad. The two of you were dancing together with your matching cowboy and cow onesie costumes, and you couldn’t have looked happier. Your arms were wrapped around Chad’s neck and his hands were placed on your waist. Ethan watched as Chad whispered something to you that made you giggle, and he felt his heart ache. He wanted to be the one you danced with, the one to hold you close, the one who would make you laugh.

But you were dating his roommate. And Chad was Ethan’s best friend, he’d never want to hurt him, but all Ethan could think about was you. He could never escape you. Even if he wasn’t thinking about you, you were still there. You and Chad went almost everywhere together, and you were always over at their dorm. Just constantly seeing you and Chad being happy together made Ethan’s pain that much worse.

And as I walk up to your door

My head turns to face the floor

'Cause I can't look you in the eyes and say

Ethan stared at the text he had written to you, his finger hovering over the send button. He kept writing the same message over and over, pouring out his feelings to you, but he could never bring himself to send them. He was too scared. He knew there was no way that you could possibly return his feelings, and telling you how he felt would only set him up for more heartbreak. You were with Chad, and you were happy. Who was Ethan to get in the way of that?

And besides, he couldn’t do that to Chad. Sometimes Ethan felt that Chad was the only friend he had, he didn’t want to risk losing him over his stupid infatuation with you. Ethan sighed, deleting the text and shutting his phone. He huffed, leaning back against the pillows on his bed, deciding to wallow in self pity instead of fucking everything up by confessing.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

Ethan heard the door to his dorm open and shut, giggling and whispers following the noise. Great. You and Chad were back from your date. It was nights like these that Ethan couldn’t be more grateful that his dorm had separate bedrooms. At least he wasn’t forced to see you and Chad being all lovey dovey, that would just feel like the two of them rubbing salt in his never healing wound.

The door to Chad’s bedroom was flung open, and Ethan heard you laugh again. He smiled slightly to himself, the beautiful noise cheering him up a bit. But that newfound happiness was short lived, because he knew what came next. Walking over to his desk, Ethan searched for his noise canceling headphones, but they were nowhere to be found. He cursed to himself when he remembered he had lent them to Anika so she could focus better while trying to study. Just great. Now he had nothing to block out the sounds of you and Chad. This was going to be a long night.

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this

Can love you more than this

Ethan laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to fall asleep. Unfortunately, he was still wide awake. He didn’t even know how long it’s been, but you and Chad were still going at it like rabbits. Chad’s headboard continually slammed against the wall, the banging ruining any chance Ethan had of sleeping. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part about Ethan’s current situation was you.

The walls in their dorm were incredibly thin, allowing for sounds to be heard from the other side easily. Ethan could hear you moaning out Chad’s name over and over again, along with your other whines and whimpers. It was all Ethan could focus on. You sounded so… hot. Usually he had his noise canceling headphones on, blocking out all the sounds you and Chad make. But now that he could hear you, he regretted ever using those stupid headphones in the first place.

Before he could even realize what was happening, Ethan was hard. He whimpered softly as he felt his throbbing erection continue to grow each time you moaned. He felt guilty about feeling like this, especially since you were currently fucking his best friend, but his overwhelming need made his guilt almost disappear.

He pulled the blankets off of him, and brought his hand down to his hard on, grinding his palm against it. He whimpered in relief at the feeling, speeding up his movements, practically humping his hand. Was he really doing this? Getting off to his best friend’s girlfriend’s moans? He felt dirty. Perverted. But somehow, that made this all the more exciting.

Ethan continued, grinding his palm down against his clothed cock, while his hips bucked up in tandem. He closed his eyes, imagining that you were the one touching him, and that he was the one getting you to make those incredible noises. Ethan bit his lip, struggling to hold in his moans. He was getting closer and closer. Then, he heard you through the wall.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck, m’ cumming! Fuck…” you trailed off into a high pitched whine.

Ethan opened his eyes when he felt a growing wet spot on his hand. He looked down and saw that he just came in his pants from hearing you finish. Great. Just great. He was supposed to be getting over you. And this was definitely not helping.

If I'm louder, would you see me?

Would you lay down in my arms and rescue me?

'Cause we are the same, you save me

But when you leave, it's gone again

“Hey Ethan!” you said cheerily, sitting down next to him in the cafeteria.

“Hey…” he mumbled, his face flushing red as he looked away from you, the memories of what he had done last night still present in his mind.

You scrunched your face up in confusion when you saw how red Ethan looked. You immediately placed the back of your hand on his forehead, concern present on your face.

“Are you feeling alright? You look really red,” you asked, gently touching his forehead and cheeks to see if he had a fever.

Ethan felt himself blush even harder, the feeling of your hand on his face making his skin tingle and his head spin. He quickly shook his head and pulled away slightly, not wanting to develop another situation because of you.

“No, I’m- I’m fine. Maybe just a little sunburnt is all.”

You pouted. “You really should wear sunscreen, Ethan. It’s not healthy if you don’t.”

Ethan nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ethan was about to say something else, when Chad approached and sat down next to you, instantly taking your attention away from him. You smiled widely at Chad, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek.

“Hi baby! I missed you,” you said, a lovestruck look in your eyes.

Chad smiled back, looking equally infatuated with you. “I missed you too babe.”

Ethan grumbled to himself, the display of affection the two of you shared only making him long for you even more.

And then I see you on the street

In his arms, I get weak

My body fails, I'm on my knees, praying

It was movie night and Sam and Tara’s place, a weekly tradition that Mindy forcefully makes everyone participate in. Ethan sat by himself in a chair next to the couch, while you and Chad were curled up together in the loveseat across from him. Everyone else had piled onto the couch, or the floor in front of it. Mindy grabbed the remote and excitedly started some horror movie that she’s been adamant about making everyone watch. But Ethan could barely bring himself to pay attention.

He kept his gaze on you and Chad, squished close together as Chad buried his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close and trying to comfort him from the scary images on the screen. Despite how scared your boyfriend was, you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked, your six foot tall boyfriend clinging to his much smaller girlfriend for protection.

Ethan tried to watch the movie, he really did, but all he could think about was how badly he wished it was him that you were holding instead of Chad. No matter what he did, Ethan couldn’t get over you. He had almost given up on trying at this point. He was hopelessly in love with you. And he would just have to deal with that.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

The movie finally ended, and Ethan managed to force himself to pay attention to the second half of the movie. He was definitely confused about the plot, and had absolutely no idea what happened, but at least he stopped staring at you and Chad like some creep.

“Aw, guys look!” Anika said, pointing to the loveseat you and Chad were on.

The two of you had fallen asleep, Chad curled up in your arms. The sight of you and Chad sleeping together so peacefully, so happily, it just made the heartache and longing he felt for you that much worse. Because he knew he would never get to be with you like that. He would never get to be the one to fall asleep in your arms, the one you protected from scary movies, the one you held close. No matter how badly he wished and prayed to be yours, he knew that it would never happen.

Sam stood up from the couch and grabbed a blanket, placing it over you and Chad. She smiled down at the two of you warmly, the sight just so incredibly adorable.

“They’re so cute together,” she said, smiling to herself as she walked back to the couch.

“I know!” Tara added, swooning over how perfect you and Chad looked together. “It’s like they were meant to be.”

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this

Ethan couldn’t take it anymore, seeing you and Chad sleeping in each others’ arms, hearing all his friends fawn over how cute you and Chad were. It was all too much. He felt his heart shatter and his eyes welled up with tears. He blinked forcefully, trying to stop them from falling.

Ethan stood up, starting to head towards the door. “I think I’m gonna head back to my dorm for the night. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Anika frowned. “You’re not staying? I thought we were all sleeping over here tonight?”

“Yeah, you always stay. What’s going on?” Mindy added.

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like it tonight.”

Quinn furrowed her brows in confusion. “It doesn’t seem like nothing. Is something bothering you?”

Ethan huffed in frustration. “Nothing’s bothering me. Just drop it.”

Before anyone could respond, he was already out the door.

I've never had the words to say

But now I'm asking you to stay

For a little while inside my arms

“Hey, man. Where were you last night? Mindy said you left early and that you seemed all upset about something,” Chad said, sitting down in the desk next to Ethan.

Ethan shook his head. “She’s overreacting. Nothing’s bothering me. I… I just had this paper to work on last night that I forgot about. That’s it,” Ethan replied, hoping his excuse didn’t sound as shitty as he thought it did.

Chad looked skeptical but brushed it off. “Alright. Well, hope you got it done in time then.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, a forced smile on his face.

Chad looked like he wanted to say something else, but their professor walked in and began talking, gaining Ethan’s attention. Chad wanted to press for more, he felt like there was something Ethan wasn’t telling him. But now probably wouldn’t be the best time, especially since he seemed so tense about whatever it was. Maybe he could get you to ask Ethan about it later. Ethan always seemed so much calmer when you were around.

And as you close your eyes tonight

I pray that you will see the light

That's shining from the stars above

And I say

“Ethan! Hey, wait up!” you shouted, running to catch up to Ethan who was on the other side of the quad.

Ethan’s head perked up when he heard your voice, and he stopped walking, waiting for you to reach him. A few moments later, you stood by Ethan’s side, your hands on your knees and you panted from your jog over. You held up a finger to Ethan, asking him to give you a minute as you caught your breath.

“You alright?” Ethan asked, a smile growing on his face.

You nodded, slowly beginning to breathe normally. “Yep. Just wasn’t prepared to run that much. I’m- I’m fine.” You finally managed to calm your breathing, and smiled at Ethan to prove you were really okay.

“So, why’d you just sprint across the quad? Did you miss me that much, or did you need something?” Ethan asked, laughing to himself slightly.

“Uhm, yeah actually. I needed to talk to you. It’s about last night.”

Ethan’s smile faltered. “What about it?”

“Chad wanted me to ask you about what happened. He told me that you said you forgot about a paper, but I know that’s not true. You’re too insanely organized to forget an assignment. So, what happened? Why’d you bail?”

Ethan shook his head, turning to walk away. “I’m not talking about this right now.”

You huffed and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. “Ethan, I’m worried about you. We all are. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t!” Ethan said, his voice slightly louder.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

‘Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

“Why not? I’m here for you Ethan, we all are. Just let me in. I want to help you.”

Ethan turned his head and looked at the ground, not wanting to look into your eyes. If he looked into your eyes right now, he knew his resolve would crumble, and all of the feelings that he’d been holding back would all come spilling out.

“I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t get it. You can’t help me,” Ethan said, his voice growing quieter as he felt your gaze stay trained on him.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to make him look at you again. What was once just a minor concern about whatever happened at the sleepover now grew into a full blown panic. You had never seen Ethan like this. So small, so fragile. He had seemed so put together, having everything under control. But seeing him like this, you couldn’t help but feel your heart break. He looked so sad. So scared. And you hated it.

“Try me. Please. Let me in. Whatever you’re dealing with, you can’t do it on your own. Don’t push me away. I know we aren’t the closest, but I do consider you a friend. And I care about you. So please, just tell me what’s wrong. Don’t let yourself suffer by trying to deal with it all on your own.”

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

“Fine, you want me to tell you?” Ethan said, finally looking into your eyes.

You nodded. “I really want you to.”

Ethan huffed, rubbing his eyes with his fists in frustration. “I- I want to tell you. I really do. But if I say this, I can’t take it back. I don’t want to ruin everything. I don’t want to lose you.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him. “You won’t ruin anything. Just please, tell me. Let me in, Ethan.”

“I’m in love with you, okay?!” Ethan shouted, squeezing his eyes shut, terrified of how you would react.

“What…?” you asked, your eyes wide in shock.

“I’ve loved you since the day I first met you. Which sucks, because you’re with Chad, and I know you don’t feel the same. But I’ve been suffering every single time I see you with him. I wish that was me. I want to be the one that you love. I want to be the one you’re with. And I know it’s wrong, I know I can never have you like that. But- I- I just-,” Ethan trails off, his rambling cut off by his own panic.

And then Ethan does the unthinkable. He kisses you.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

Once he realized what he had done, he pulled away. He was too panicked to realize that you had kissed back. You looked up at Ethan, your eyes wide in shock and confusion. You had no idea what you were feeling, emotions swirling and exploding inside of you. But Ethan interpreted your expression as disgust and hate. He looked at you guiltily, slowly backing away.

“I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I- I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, his eyes wide as he took another step backwards.

“Ethan…” you said, your expression softening when you saw how terrified he looked.

“No- I- I shouldn’t have…” Ethan said, turning around and running off, not wanting to have to face you another second.

“Ethan, wait! Ethan…” you called after him, but he didn’t turn around.

“Wait…” you said softly, trailing off when he finally faded from view.

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this

Can love you more than this

tags: @wenvierismycomfort

if your name is crossed off, it means i can't tag you!

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abbs-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Caught | Spencer Reid

If you're my boyfriend and you see this, no you don't, move on and do not read this, please and thank you <3

So this is old, I had it up on an old account that's now since been deleted. But I wanted to repost it because I wanna continue writing it and adding more parts to it. But yeah it's very angsty and it's a fuck or die trope so ya know..

⚠️Major Trigger Warnings⚠️: kidnapping, torture, fuck or die trope aka non consensual sex (it doesn't actually happen but still), stalker, crying, head injuries, use of restraints but not by choice, talk of loss of virginity, use of guns, blood, talk of BDSM, porn, masturbation, so much crying and struggling, very very sad and angsty and like yeah, if I missed anything let me know <3 please read at your own discretion

Your head pounded, you felt light headed and dizzy. You tried to open your eyes but your head hurt too much. The cold floor grounded you, it was a nice constant. You could hear a voice but couldn't quite place it, it echoed in your mind only making your head hurt more. You groaned, you couldn't get up, everything hurt too much. And there was that damned voice again, speaking way too loudly for your comfort. "Please stop," you whimpered, your body ached to the point that you felt nauseous. "Y/n, please.. tell me you're okay," the voice said but once again you groaned. "Shh," you said, trying to get them to stop speaking.

You faintly heard the noise of a lock clicking but you didn't quite understand what it meant. But before you could even think, you felt hands on your body. The hands were gentle on your arms, trying to help you move but you didn't want to. "It's me, y/n It's me. It's spencer. Talk to me." He said. Spencer, oh thank god it was spencer. "Stop, i don't wanna move," you said, voice shaking. "Okay, okay. We won't move, im just gonna put your head in my lap." He said. Once again, you were groaning as he did so. You could feel him moving but you refused to open your eyes. He placed the fabric of his sweater on your forehead, you must've been bleeding, that's the only reason he'd do that. "Can you open your eyes? I need to check if you have a concussion." Spencer said. You whined, "it hurts, everything hurts." You said. "I know, I know but I need to know you're okay. After that you can close your eyes again." He said. You forced your eyes open, looking up at spencer. You would've been so happy to see him but he looked horrible. He was disheveled and obviously been crying. He never cries, why was he crying?

"Follow my finger, okay baby?" He said. You did your best but it was hard. You kept having to close your eyes because the pain was too much. Spencer sighed, giving up, "you probably have a concussion. You can close your eyes now. Just relax, I've got you." He said, petting your hair gently in hopes it would help you relax. "What happened?" You asked after a few moments of silence. "The unsub we've been hunting... he got us. But I'll keep you safe, i promise." He said. "Spencer, we- we've been through this. We don't make promises," you said softly. You were right and Spencer knew that. You two never made promises in hopes you two could never be let down by the inevitable broken promises. He never promised to be home on time due to the fact that it was almost impossible that he would be home on time. You never promised to stay up for him because it was so hard to stay up late in hopes he'd be home on time. Promises were almost never kept, it wasn't ever anyone's fault. You both knew that.

"Is the team on the way?" You asked, hoping, praying they were closer than you thought. Spencer sighed, he didn't answer, instead just leaning down and kissing the top of your head. That wasn't a good sign. "Just relax, remember how you've been planning that beach trip?" Spencer said. "That was supposed to be a surprise," you sighed softly. "I know, but I saw your laptop.. I've been thinking about it ever since. I've never liked the beach but i think with you.. I could really enjoy it. Finding a nice shady spot where I can read and you can drink your fancy little cocktails you enjoy so much," he smiled at the thought. You tried to giggle but it hurt, that sounded so nice, so perfect. "Now, i refuse to get into the water.. but I know you would too. The ocean is so vast, so unexplored. You've always hated the unknown but who doesn't. It's a common fear, just like the dark, it makes sense. But it'll be me and you, on a white sandy beach, reading, talking, drinking. It's perfect." He said, never stopping petting your hair.

He kept talking but you couldn't hear it. You started to doze off and he could tell by how your body relaxed. Part of him was worried that if you fell asleep, you might not wake up. But he knew you were strong, you just needed to rest and if you could sleep, then it was best that you did. He couldn't sleep, he refused. He would not let his guard down. He wasn't going to let someone else be taken away from him. It had happened too many times before, he couldn't let it happen again. He stayed vigilant, keeping an eye on your breathing while also looking around the dark room for any escape or any object he could use to protect the two of you. There was nothing, it was a dark room with a bed in the middle. Not a nice bed, just a mattress thrown onto the floor. He noticed the shackles and his stomach turned in knots, he didn't even wanna think about those being used, especially not on you.

He enjoyed the silence, being able to hear your soft breathing brought him solace. He was as comfortable as he could be in a moment like this. It did worry him how long it had been since the unsub had done anything. Was the unsub out? Was he not home, the team had profiled that the unsub had a family so it made sense he wasn't here. But he didn't know what time it was. It had to have been day if the unsub wasn't here. It meant he was either at work or with his family. But he dreaded when the unsub would be back. He knew a little about how it would go. The unsub took couples, made them have sex before he killed them. He never kept them longer than 3 days. The time was ticking and it was breaking his heart.

You woke up after maybe a couple of hours, you weren't sure. You felt somewhat better. Your body ached but not as badly, your head hurt but you were able to open your eyes. You looked up at spencer. "Spence?" You asked, gaining his attention. "Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked gently. "Better... or as much better as I can be." You sighed. "That's good, how's your head? It stopped bleeding." He said, examining the cut on your forehead. "It hurts but not as bad.." you said. You tried to move but spencer stopped you. "Hey, hey, take it slow." He said. He helped you sit up, very slowly. "There we go, can you look at me?" He asked. You did as he asked. He gave you a gentle smile, moving hair from your face. "You seem a little pale, how's your stomach?" He asked. "I'm nauseous.. but I think it's from the pain." You said. "I understand." He said.

There was a loud buzzing noise making you cover your ears, the noise made your head hurt. A door opened, spencer turned to see the unsub wearing a mask. He sat down a tray of food, along with a bottle of water. He pushed them into the room before slamming the door shut. The noise made you jump. You opened your eyes, uncovering your ears. "What is that?" You asked. "Food.. water.." spencer slowly stood. This was new.. the unsub never fed his victims, never kept them hydrated. The ME reporter the victims had no food in their system for three days. This wasn't right. Spencer grabbed the tray and the water and brought it over to you. You went to reach for the bread but spencer stopped you. "It might be poisonous.." he said, you nodded before pulling back. Spencer inspected the bottle of water, he knew you needed water. Dehydration would only make the concussion worse. It hadn't looked like it had been tampered with. No small holes to indicate poison. No broken seal to indicate it would be replaced with something else. He even took the label off to further investigate but it looked clean. "Okay, take sips. Don't chug it." Spencer said, opening the water. He brought it to your lips, you took the bottle with shaking hands and did as he said, only taking sips of the water.

He went back to the food, he didn't trust it but it also wouldn't make sense to poison it if he was planning on keeping the two of you. "I'm sorry y/n.. I don't think we should eat it. It's not safe, too many variables." He said. You nodded and watched as he pushed the tray to the side. You offered Spencer the water but he shook his head, "you need it baby. Keep taking sips." He said. You wanted to fight him but couldn't, you didn't have it in you. You took a few more sips before closing the bottle and setting it down. "Spence.." you looked around the room, finally taking in your surroundings. It was like he could read your mind, you didn't have to say you were scared. He already knew. He saw it in your eyes. He saw it in the way your hands trembled. "I know.. but it's okay to be scared. It's a natural reaction to what's happening." He explained. You nodded. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to bring yourself comfort in the cold, dark room. Spencer placed the sweater he had used to stop your bleeding around your shoulders. You took it happily, cuddling into the warmth. "Are you scared?" You asked. Spencer would never admit it, he was ducking terrified. The unsub was deviating from his MO and he didn't know what it meant. He didn't even know if this was the same unsub at this point. His mind was racing and he was so scared but he'd never admit it. He knew you weren't a profiler so he knew he could hide his emotions from you. But he wandered if it was even a good idea. "A little," he admitted, but that's all he gave you.

He was thankful when you didn't push him any further. You took his answer as it was and he was thankful. He wasn't sure what would come next, he had been through so many hostage situations but nothing like this. Nothing where he was stuck with the woman he loved more than anything, nothing where he might be faced to have sex with the woman he loved in a place that he never wanted it to happen at. He had made so many plans in his mind about his first time with you but he never went through with any of them. Not because he didn't want to but because work or his own anxiety got in the way. But he knew for a fact that this wasn't how he wanted it to happen.

The silence quickly ended though when there was another loud buzz, the noise made you shake. Once again the door opened. "Bring me the tray." The unsub said. Spencer grabbed the tray but stopped when the unsub pulled out a gun, pointing it at spencer. "Not you, her." The gun was now pointed at you. Your heart stopped, in reality, it sped up faster than it ever had. "I'm not sure she can stand, she's hurt." Spencer tried to explain but the unsub shook his head. "Bring me the tray or i shoot." He demanded. Tears brimmed your eyes. You stood shakily, spencer was sure you might fall. You didn't though. Spencer saw you about to bend down but he quickly grabbed the tray and handed it to you. Your legs were shaking as you walked. You walked slowly, scared you would fall. Your head pounded just like your heart. You brought the tray to the unsub. The gun was brought to your head and you cried out. "Do not kill her or i swear to god-" Spencer started but was cut off. "I wouldn't kill such a pretty little thing like this. So pure, so innocent. Does he know?" The unsub asked, the gun moving from your temple to under your chin. It didn't take a genius to put together what the unsub had said. But spencer already knew you were a virgin, you never had to say it. He could tell when you kissed, so unsure of yourself. He could tell when your hands shook as your tried to undo the buttons of his shirt for the first time. Every part of your body and how you reacted to him when you two made out screamed virgin, insecurity, unsure of yourself. He knew and you never even had to say it.

"Don't worry darling, I'll film it so you can watch it over and over again. See how he takes that pretty little flower of yours and tears it to shreds. Do you know what men think about when they see a virgin? They only think about one thing, absolutely ruining you. They wanna ruin you, they wanna tear you apart till you are nothing. Then they wanna throw you to the side because guess what? You aren't as special as you think you are, especially after you're no longer a virgin." The unsub said, gun still shoved under your chin. He used it to make you look up at him. "I wanted to tear you to fucking shreds the moment I saw you in that pretty pink dress. So young, so pure. How old are you? 25? Your birthday was recently, I remember the party. You got so drunk that spencer here had to carry you home. I'm surprised he didn't defile you then, take advantage of you. He must really love you if he didn't want to take you right then and there." The unsub said. Tears were streaming down your face by now, you could barely see. You tried to focus, not on his words but on his eyes. It was important to take in every detail you could incase you escaped so you could tell the team what you saw. His eyes were green, nothing special about them. There was nothing identifying about him, no different colored eyes, no black specks that you could place. There was nothing and you felt defeated. "Move back," the unsub said. You did as he said, and with that the door shut.

You couldn't move and neither could spencer. He replayed the whole conversation back in his head. The pretty pink dress he was referring to was the one you wore on your first date with spencer. He knew your birthday, he was at the party. The party was small, close friends and family only. He knew you were a virgin, no one knew that. Unless they were your close friend. This didn't make sense, how did he know so much. They didn't profile the unsub to be a stalker, he was a man that took couples of opportunity. He kept them for three days, never fed them or let them drink. This wasn't the original unsub.. this was someone totally different. This was a stalker, a man who had followed you around for days, months, at this point maybe even years. This was a whole different story, the team didn't know about him. The team wouldn't be here any time soon. And now he had no idea how long the two of you had to live. He had nothing, he had no profile, he had no clues. But maybe, just maybe you knew something.

"Y/n," spencer spoke but you were unmoving. He stood up walking over to you. You were like a statue, the only identifiable form of life was the way your hands shook. "Y/n," he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him. He saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, his heart broke. "Do you know him?" Spencer asked. "His eyes were green spencer, that's all I could see. I couldn't- I didn't see anything else. Spencer I tried but there was nothing-" you were close to breaking down, going on a rant about how you tried so hard to place him. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You did good. You tried. Green eyes, that's good. That's a start." Spencer said, grabbing your shaking hands. He pulled you into his chest, "do you know anyone, any man with green eyes?" He asked. You shook your head, you couldn't place anyone because you couldn't even think straight. He had been watching you for so long and you never noticed and it scared the shit out of you. "Okay, that's okay. We can try something later after you calm down, okay?" He said and you nodded. Spencer brought you back over to the corner where the two of you sat before. He sat down, pulling you between his legs and holding you tightly. The tightness of his arms grounded you, the feeling of the cold floor against your legs also kept you grounded. "We will get through this, no matter what. Okay?" He said and you nodded.

You didn't even notice when Spencer started to speak, he was repeating a book to you. It took you a while to place it, but then you realized, he was quoting Alice in Wonderland, word for word. It was a childhood favorite of yours and he was doing it to comfort you. You buried your head in his arms, crying. As sobs shook through you, spencer held you tighter. He continued to quote the book, he knew it brought you comfort and he was gonna keep you grounded the best way he knew how to. He would never tell you how he was breaking. As time went on, he broke more. He had nothing, no clue about who the unsub was. He was so fucking scared and he didn't know what to do. He thought about trying to subdue the unsub but he had a gun, he could get shot, or worse, you could get shot. He had no way to get help. There were no windows. The door was dead bolted and connected to some sort of mechanism that made it impossible to unlock unless you had the button or passcode or whatever the fuck the unsub had. He was helpless, he had no team, no gun, no profile and no clues. It reminded him of when he was taken by Tobias Hankle. At least then he was able to talk to the unsub, reason with him and get help when needed. Now he had nothing. There was no reasoning with this unsub, his motives were clear. Fuck or Die.

It had become a waiting game, he was able to finish the whole book by the time you had worn yourself out to the point that you passed out. He was anxious, the only solace he found was in playing with your hair. It kept him calm, grounded. He tried to count the time but he kept losing count with every little noise he heard. His heart raced with every sound, so scared the unsub would come back and put the gun back to your head. The image of your body shaking and tears rolling down your face would be forever engrained in his mind. He didn't wanna remember you like that, he wanted to remember you as the sweet, smart girl he knew. The one he fell so hard for. The girl who was the only one who could help him sleep. No matter how many bad cases, bad nights and nightmares he had, he still found comfort in your arms, in the way you played with his hair and sang your favorite songs to him. He was never into pop music, love songs, but when you sang them, they were his own form of heaven. He replayed the songs in his mind as you slept. He never knew who they were by or what they were called but he could recall every single lyric.

It could've been hours by the next time the buzz came and the door opened. You jolted awake, god he wished you had stayed asleep. He didn't want you to go through it again, the gun to your head. "Come here," the unsub said, once again, gun pointed towards spencer. You moved out of Spencer's lap so he could stand up. He walked towards the unsub cautiously, trying to play through the scenarios in his mind. Ones where he'd grab the gun successfully and subdue the unsub. "Don't try to be smart now," The unsub said, gun now pointed at you. His heart sank, all possibilities of subduing the unsub now out the window. You cried again, knees pulled to your chest. "Don't shoot her, I'll cooperate." Spencer said, holding his hands un in defense. "Good," the unsub tossed spencer a pair of keys. Spencer caught them but was confused, he stared at the keys in his hand before looking up at the unsub. "Don't play dumb, you know what to do." The unsub motioned towards the shackles. "No, no, no, we don't need to do that. She'll listen. I promise she will." Spencer said. "What was that that she said earlier? We don't make promises?" The unsub said, spencer could hear the smirk in his voice. He had been listening the whole time.

"I won't- i can't tie her up, please. She- she'll be good. I'll make sure. Please," spencer pleaded. A shot rang out but thankfully it was just at the wall. You screamed, covering your ears. "Okay! Okay, don't shoot! It's okay!" Spencer's ears were ringing. You were quick to move, going over to the bed. You were sobbing and scared and Spencer knew that. He could feel it in every part of his body. He walked over to you, his own hands shaking. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He grabbed your wrist gently, grabbing the metal cuff and placing it around your wrist. He locked it, he didn't want to but he did. Then he did the next wrist, he was so gentle, so calm. He had to be because he knew if you knew how truly scared he was, you would break. "There, okay, it's done." Spencer said, turning back towards the unsub. The unsub shook his head, "ankles too," he stated. Spencer felt defeated as he looked down at the bed seeing the shackles for your feet. Your legs were pulled to your chest, laying in the fetal position. "P-please don't, please. Please I'll be good," you cried out but the unsub shook his head. "No, do the ankles, now!" He yelled. You moved your legs to lay flat. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut.

"Hey, hey, listen to me. We're on the beach, yeah? It warm, not too hot, we're not sweating. There's a cool breeze," he spoke as he put the shackles around your ankles. "It's not too cold though, it doesn't make us shiver. You have your music playing.. that one song with the lyrics about, god, what were the lyrics?" For once he couldn't think, he couldn't remember. "The one that goes, "we could leave the Christmas lights up till January," he said. You knew the song, you loved that song. "I-I never understood the lyrics.. leaving the Christmas lights up till January? Why would you do that?" Spencer tried to chuckle but his voice cracked. He couldn't stop the tears from falling. Once he was done with the shackles he looked back at the unsub. "Give me the keys," the unsub said. Spencer nodded, getting up and handing him the keys. With that, the unsub left.

Spencer was quick to be by your side. You broke, struggling in the restraints as you cried. "No, no, relax. You'll hurt yourself. You're already hurt enough, okay?" He said, you couldn't relax. You still struggled, crying. Spencer grabbed your face, "look at me, look at me," Spencer said. You opened your tired eyes, looking at spencer. "It will be okay, i won't hurt you. I won't let him hurt you. If I'm here, you're safe, I'll make sure of it." He said, stroking away the tears on your face. "I wanna go home," you cried. "That's a normal response-" you cried again, "stop! Stop it with the normal responses! This isn't normal! None of this is normal! Please, let me go!" You yelled out, trying to move again. It broke spencer, his eyes squeezing shut as his tears fell onto your shirt. "We'll be home soon, back in bed. Cuddling, watching movies. I promise we can watch a normal movie, none of the old timey russian movies. No need to translate. We can watch Mean girls, or- or some cartoons. We can watch anything you want." He said, trying hard to calm down and calm you down. "Remember- remember when you said you wanted a dog? And i complained, god, i don't know why I complained. We can get a dog now, okay? Any breed, i don't care. We can get a pitbull, a terrier, any dog toy want." He said. "A greyhound?" You asked, sniffling. "Yes, yes, a greyhound. We'll get a greyhound. We'll take him on walks together, bring him to the dog park. He can sleep in our bed, i don't care." Spencer said. He saw a smile from on your face. You leaned into his touch, "maybe we can get a cat too?" You offered. Spencer laughed, "of course, a cat too." He said. You smiled, your crying was slowing down but it didn't stop. He couldn't stop crying either, he tried but it wasn't worth it when he knew it'd start again.

"D-do you think- spencer," you didn't want to finish the sentence. You didn't quite know what you wanted to ask. "It's okay, take your time. We got all day," he tried to joke and it made you smile. "I never wanted our first time to be like this," you whispered. Spencer sighed, "I know, me neither. I wanted it to be with rose petals, music, maybe a nice dinner." He said. "Maybe on a beach," you whispered. Spencer smiled, "you were planning it, weren't you?" He asked, referring to the trip. "I was, but I never- we would never get the time." You giggled. "Your job sucks sometimes," you said. Spencer let out a broken laugh, "it truly does." He said. "But you know, sex on the beach is never what you expect it to be. Sand in places it shouldn't be, not to mention all the dieses in the sand." He said and once more you giggled. "Always ruining the moment," you said. "I never try to, maybe we could have that sex in the hotel room though, just to be safe." He said. "What about all the possible dieses in the hotel bed, huh?" You joked. "Way less than the ones on the beach." He said. You just shocked your head with a smile. "Maybe more than the ones on this bed," you said, really trying to joke. Spencer sighed, you didn't mean to bring the two of you back to reality but you did. You were faced with the horrible reality that you would lose your virginity on this possible dieses ridden bed covered in stains.

"How's your stomach?" Spencer asked, changing the subject. "I forgot about it.. was thinking about the beach, and the dog and the cat." You said. Spencer smiled at that. "Good, do you need some water?" He asked. "That would be nice," you said. Spencer reached over, grabbing the water you had left on the floor. He opened the bottle before placing a hand behind your head. He raised your head, helping you sip some water. You took a few sips before spencer pull the bottle away. "Better?" He asked and you nodded. He set the bottle down after closing it. "You haven't slept," you said and Spencer shook his head, "don't need to." He said. "That's a lie, you need sleep. You need all the energy you can get and you know that," you said. "I'll sleep when we leave." He said. "Spence, we don't know when that'll be. Please, just- just lay your head on my chest and sleep." You said. Spencer sighed, you were right, he needed sleep and he didn't know how long you two would be here. He reluctantly placed his head on your chest, it wasn't the same when you couldn't play with his hair. But then you started to sing, the lyrics flooding his brain. He could barely relax but it was enough to send him off to sleep.

You fell asleep too, you didn't mean to. You were just so tired, so worn out from struggling. You didn't know how long the two of you slept, nothing happened, the unsub never came it. It was a calm night, it didn't make sense but you decided not to think too much about it. Thinking made your head hurt. You woke up before Spencer, you went to play with his hair but the restraints stopped you. You wanted to cry again, realization had set back in as you remembered where you were. You clenched your first but stayed put, you didn't want to wake spencer. He needed rest, especially if he was going to somehow devise a plan to get the two of you out of there. He was your only hope, you trusted him though. You knew you would be okay.. maybe not now but eventually.

Spencer woke up shortly after you, looking up at you with a smile. He must've forgotten where he was as well. But you saw the realization set in. He was brought back to reality as he looked around the room. Nothing had changed which was good. But that still meant there was nothing to help him escape. Then the familiar buzzing came back. You dreaded that sound more than anything. The unsub walked in, gun in hand. He tossed scissors onto the ground. They were children's scissors, it could do damage but not enough to stop him from shooting. He thought maybe if he could get the scissors into his neck it would stop him but that wouldn't, nothing would stop a mad man from shooting the love of his life. He's learned that the hard way.

"The shirt," the unsub said, pointing the gun at the scissors then at you. Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, "please, I'll do anything if you just let her go." Spencer said. "No, the shirt." The unsub said. "We could make a deal, you- we- please," spencer didn't have a deal to make. He knew what the unsub wanted and he didn't know how to stop it. "Now!" The unsub yelled. Spencer gave in, you didn't cry out this time like you had before when you yelled. When spencer looked at you, he saw you broken, silently sobbing but not begging anymore. He wanted you to beg, he wanted to know you were still fighting, still willing to fight for your life, your purity. But you didn't, you were silent as you cried, eyes squeezing shut.

Spencer sat besides you, he used the scissors at the bottom of your shirt, slowly cutting the fabric. His hands trembled as he struggled to get through the material. He had seen this part of you before but not like this. Not when he was forced to. The unsub walked over to him, looking over his shoulder. "How pretty, beautiful untouched skin." He said. Spencer held the scissors so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Oh come on now," the gun was now to the back of Spencer's head. "You really don't wanna do that, you hurt me, I hurt you. Not enough to kill you, no, no. I would make you watch as i fucking tear her apart. You don't want that do you? You want it to be you, you want to be the one to take her sweet virginity. I know you do." He said, keeping the gun in place, the barrel placed against the back of his head.

"Not like This," spencer whispered. "Not like This? Are you sure about that? You think she's the only one I watch? I've seen you Dr. Spencer Reid. I've seen you, laying in bed, what dumbass keeps the blinds open?" He chuckled, "I watched as you jacked off to porn, to photos of her, she wasn't even nude in them. Scantily clad, but never nude. How perverted are you? I've seen the porn you watch, BDSM? I bet the shackles turn you on." The unsub said. Spencer was heartbroken. He didn't need this side of himself revealed, especially not to you. He would share those things, but not now. "They don't," spencer said. "Why not? You've watched girls suffer and enjoyed it. But not this?" The unsub said. "BDSM is based on consent. This isn't consensual." Spencer said. "I Can make it consensual." The unsub said. The gun was now pointed at you. "Beg," he said. "W-what? Beg for what?" You asked, trying to not let your voice crack but it wasn't working. "Beg him to fuck you, tell him you want it. Make it believable." The unsub said.

You looked at spencer, he couldn't even look at you. He was so ashamed of himself, so hurt and guilty. "P-please f-fuck me," you said, unconvincingly. "Make it believable!" The unsub yelled. There was that sob again, the one that wracked through your body and broke spencer. "P-please fuck me, please spencer, I need you, I want you. Please i want it," you cried, staring at spencer. He shook his head, "I can't, you don't want it. I can't," Spencer said, tears streaming down his face once more. "Fine, if you can't. Then i will!" The unsub shoved spencer out of the way.

You screamed, cried when you felt the unsubs hands on your body. It felt dirty, his hands were rough. You struggled in his grip on your sides. "Spencer, please, please!" You cried out. You couldn't see spencer through the tears in your eyes. But then you heard it. A shot fired and the body of the unsub fell limp on you. You screamed again, "help, help, help," you cried, squirming. You could feel the blood pouring out of the unsub and onto your body. Spencer quickly grabbed the unsubs limp body and moved him off of you. You were sobbing, shaking. Spencer kicked the gun away in case the unsub was able to get up. He grabbed the keys and quickly started to undo the shackles. Once your ankles and hands were free, you hugged spencer, hugged him so tightly you were sure he might not be able to breathe. "We need to get out of here, we need to find a phone," spencer said quickly, pulling back. You looked over at the body but spencer grabbed your face, "Don't look at him, look at me. We need to get out of here. Okay? Can you stand?" He asked. You weren't sure but spencer was already standing, pulling you up with him.

Your head started pounding again but you ignored it, leaning against Spencer's body as he guided you out of the room. He had to practically pull you up the stares. He opened the door, leading the two of you into a house. "I need to find a phone," Spencer said, leaving your side. You leaned back against the wall, falling down to the floor as you cried. You could still feel the unsubs hands on you, you could still see his lifeless body on the floor. The imagine would be engrained in your mind. The feeling of his hands would be burned into your brain. "The team is on there way," spencer said as he got down beside you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. "We're safe, we'll be safe soon. We're going home. We're gonna get that dog and that cat. We'll take that beach trip." He explained, keeping you close.

You didn't know how long it took for the team to get there. You were too busy shaking and crying in Spencer's arms, replaying the scene in your head over and over again. The door bust open making you flinch, you didn't scream, you didn't have it in you. "Spence, oh my god, spence," JJ said, running over to the two of you. "The ambulance will be here soon, okay?" She said. You couldn't open your eyes but you could hear the team moving through the house. You didn't want to open your eyes, you were so scared you'd see the body again. "Are you okay?" JJ asked. Spencer nodded then looked down at you, "She was hit in the head, im sure she has a concussion." Spencer said. "Is she bleeding?" JJ asked but spencer shook his head, "It's not her blood," he said. JJ was relieved. She loved Spencer and she loved you. Sure, spencer knew her first, but you felt closer to her than anyone else. "Ambulance is here!" Someone called out. "Okay, okay, we need to get you two checked out." JJ said.

Spencer started to move but you cried harder, clinging onto him. "No, no, no-" you cried. "It's okay, we're going to the ambulance. Okay, im staying with you." Spencer said. You reluctantly stood up with him. JJ was on your other side, helping you walk. You never realized how weak you were till now. Your feet drug against the ground, you felt limp, heavy. You hear hung as you walked. You were so tired. They helped you into the ambulance and laid you down. You clung onto Spencer's arm like a lifeline, afraid that if you let go, the unsub would be back, grabbing you, touching you.

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," spencer said, grabbing your hand and holding it just as tightly as you were holding his. "I'll meet you two at the hospital," JJ said before leaving the car. Spencer just looked down at you, watching as the EMT's checked you out. You felt a hand on your stomach that wasn't Spencer's and you freaked out. "N-no! Please!" You squeezed your eyes shut. "D-don't touch her there!" Spencer said, shoving the EMTs hand away. "I was checking for bleeding," he said. "That's not her blood! Don't touch her there again!" Spencer was furious, these were the people that were supposed to keep us safe but yet they were making you relive the trauma. "I won't, i wont," The EMT said.

They hooked you up to IVs, checking you for a concussion which you indeed had. "She's dehydrated and in pain. We're giving her morphine. She'll fall asleep soon," The EMT said. Spencer nodded and his eyes never left you. You couldn't open your eyes, the lights were too bright and you were too tired to keep them open. "I'm here, I'm not leaving." Spencer said. You squeezed his hand to indicate you were listening. "Did you hear the doctor? You'll fall asleep soon but I'll be right here. I'm not leaving." You squeezed his hand again. Spencer knew the EMT wasn't a doctor but he wasn't about to make things more difficult for you to understand in your fragile state. You fell asleep soon after he told you what was happening.

Spencer was so tired, struggling to keep his eyes open as he watched you sleep. He refused to sleep, he couldn't bare having you wake up without him being awake as well. The doctors hooked him up to an IV after checking him out. He was fine, dehydrated but fine. He didn't have a concussion like you did, he wasn't stuck in shackles like you were. Sure, he had trauma but nothing as bad as you. He had been through the pain, the gun against the head, but you hadn't. This was all new to you and he knew you were about to go through hell when you woke up. You'd need years of therapy like he did. He worried you'd turn to drugs like he did but he would make sure you didn't. He do anything to help you cope but he wasn't going to let you do anything to hurt yourself.

You woke up after a while, eyes heavy as they opened. "Hey, hey, I'm here," he could see the way your hand moved frantically in search of his. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly. Your eyes finally opened and were met by his. "I wanna go home," was all you said. Spencer nodded, "we'll be home soon." Was all he said. You nodded, turning your head with a soft groan. You looked out the window, it was sunny out. You missed the sun. "I was thinking.. when we get home.. we should book that beach trip." He said. You didn't smile this time though, the beach trip no longer brought you comfort. That was ruined by the unsub. "Or, you know what.. maybe no a beach trip. Maybe somewhere more cozy, secluded. Maybe the mountains?" He said. You turned to face him, furrowing your brows. "I know, I don't have good memories with secluded cabins but i think you could change that. A nice cozy cabin, the rain hitting the windows as we cuddle up by a fire. Watching movies, listening to music, reading books. How does that sound?" He asked. A smile formed on your face, "that sounds perfect," you whispered. "Good, then it's a plan. We can set it up when we get home." He said. "And the dog?" You asked. "We'll look into adoption, same with the cat." He said. You smiled, tears brimming your eyes. "I love you," you said. "I love you too," he responded. He leaned in, giving you a soft kiss, things were hard but you knew with him, you could get through it.

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