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bullet-clubs-bitch · 1 year ago

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Die For you

I would die for you, I would lie for you, keep it real for you, I will kill for you, my baby

CM Punk’s little crush on Y/n quickly becomes an obsession. He can’t stop thinking about her, it gets to the point that he starts following her. At first, he thought it was creepy but it ended up saving Y/n’s life after her jealous ex Wardlow plans to take advantage of her after suffering a head injury on Dynamite.

Warnings: Crazy possessive Phill, mentions of blood, stitches/staples, SA, stalking, swearing, Punk literally kills someone with his bear hands, 18 +, read at your own risk (word count: 2K)

Older (Pt 1) Obsessed (Pt 3) Main Masterlist

CM PUNK Masterlist

Ever since that day in Y/n’s locker room, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. My little crush had quickly turned into an obsession. I couldn’t eat, I couldn't sleep, everything I did I did for her. I craved her. She never said anything about my confessions, she played it off, claiming I was just trying to make her feel better but my words were true. “I would do anything and everything for you. I will give you the world. You will never have to worry about a single thing.” All I wanted was to protect her, hold her in my arms as she cried, spoil her with expensive gifts, love her to death. The news of her being single again spread like wildfire, I found it pathetic how men threw themselves at her. No matter how hard they tried they would never be like me, she would never find someone like me. I needed her and although she didn’t realize it yet she needed me. Every week after Dynamite I would follow her, I know what you're thinking. I’m crazy, I’m stalking her but I am just protecting her. I would watch her like a hawk backstage and follow her to her car, making sure she was safe.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?” Cash asked me with a concerned look on his face

“What are you talking about?” I asked him

“ You are stalking her, It’s creepy,” He told me

“I am not stalking her, I am just making sure she’s safe. There are a lot of creeps out there”

“Right, next thing you are going to tell me is that you didn’t send roses to her locker room” I could feel my heart rate increase as I heard the words leave my best friend’s mouth. “What?” I asked, with a slight anger in my voice. “The large bouquet of red roses? You sent them right?” I did not send flowers to Y/n’s locker room. That would be a move of a coward, a real man would hand-deliver such a thing. “No, I didn’t send her flowers” I was angry, why? I’m not exactly sure. “Oh-uh okay then?” Who sent Y/n these flowers? I needed to know.

The next week the same thing happened. Luckily for me, I happened to be with Y/n when the flowers arrived. This time they were white Daffodils. “It looks like you have a secret admirer,” I told Y/n with a fake smile on my face. “I wouldn’t say secret admirer. More of a stalker if you ask me” Stalker? What does she mean stalker? “Stalker?” I asked “It started as little gifts to my locker room but then they started showing up at my house” I could feel my blood start to boil “I just feel like I’m being watched”

“What do you mean being watched?” I asked

“I don’t know, I just feel like someone is watching me”

“If you want, I can stay with you tonight. I promise I won’t try anything. It could help your peace of mind?” I could tell she was hesitant but I swear as much as I wanted to sleep with her this was just for her peace of mind. “I promise,” I told her again, trying not to scare her

“I mean…If they see me with you they might back off?” That along with the fact I would beat the shit out of anyone who dared lay their hands on you, yeah I would say they would back off, I thought to myself. “It’s worth a shot,” I told Y/n. “You have a match tonight, right? Maybe after we can grab something to eat before we head back to the hotel?” I heard about a new restaurant that had just opened up in the town we were staying in so how would I pass up the opportunity to take my baby out for a treat after her big match tonight? “Sounds good. As long as I’m back before midnight” She told me “Why? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin or something?” “Maybe”

I watched Y/n’s match from a backstage monitor and for some reason, the moment she stepped out there I had this gut feeling something would happen. The beginning of the match was good, I had almost forgotten about what I was worrying about until I saw it. The way Y/n’s head ricocheted off the barricade, obviously ringing her bell. The thud was sickening, echoing throughout the whole arena. I watched the blood pour out of her skull, a wound like that would need stitches. She was down, I thought she might have gotten knocked out. The ref checked on her lifeless body, the arena silent unsure of what would happen. Of courseY/n would deny that she was hurt, I watched her stumble back to her feet. The match went on. The lack of blood loss was causing Y/n to get a bit sloppy, she wasn’t as stable on her feet but somehow it added to the tension of this match. She was running on pure adrenaline, hitting her opponent with everything she had before delivering a Death Valley drive followed by a picture-perfect black arrow. 1…2…3.. The match was over.

The backstage area was pure chaos as medical staff waited for Y/n to return backstage. I ran to the gorilla to greet her but to my surprise Wardlow had beat me to it. Why the fuck was he there? I was angry, the poor girl was confused, she had no idea what was going on. Of course Wardlow would take advantage and act like they were still together. I watched as medical tried to pull her away from him but she insisted he went with her. Everyone knew what Wardlow did, they knew how fucked up Y/n must have been since for the past few weeks she wound’t let Wardlow within 10 feet of her. As much as they knew she would hate them for letting her confused state with him it was worse to argue with someone in such a state. Wardlow gave me a nasty look as he walked hand and hand with Y/n to medical.

Now I sat in my car feeling disgusted as I watched Y/n go home with Wardlow. She was severely concussed and needed 10 stitches and a few staples to close the gash on her head. I knew I shouldn't be following them but I couldn't bear to see the love of my life get taken advantage of like this. I knew what he would do, he would act all sweet, take her to her hotel room, probably make love to her then once she fell asleep he would sneak out and get with a bunch of groupies. How did I know this? Well I heard him talking to his buddy Max about his plan and it made me sick. What happened to her and I going out after the show and me protecting her from her stalker who I assume is Wardlow? I let her go with him, I’m letting everything I promised would never happen, happen. Don’t worry baby, daddy will take care of it.

Carefully I followed the pair without getting detected, with every step I took I could feel the sweat gather on my hairline, my heart started racing, my body told me to speed up, something was wrong, Y/n was in trouble. Wait what the fuck? Why are there now three people? Wardlow carried a most likely unconscious Y/n and a mystery man stood in front of them. My mind filled with horrible thoughts, I tried to push them away but they were too strong. I hid behind a corner once they stopped. Was this their room? Wait a second, this isn’t even the hotel Y/n and I checked into this morning. How didn’t I notice that? “Well look at that, doesn’t she look so peaceful” Wardlow said to the mystery man. “You were right, she’s a pretty one. She will probably be out for a while too with all that stuff they gave her” what stuff? What kind of shit is in Y/n’s system? I didn’t even want to think about the things they would do to her. I charged at the mystery man I had never seen before. I jumped on his back and began my attack, then I was on the ground. I knew I was at a disadvantage, this was a two on one assault not to mention they were both larger than I. They got a few hits in before I returned to my attack. I punched Wardlow so hard in the face I could feel his nose crack on my knuckles. I watched him scream in agony as the blood gushed out of his face. “You’re fucking crazy Punk” he yelled “Your goddam right I am. Don’t fucken touch my girl” I spat back, continuing to pummel the man. Wardlow knew he couldn't win this war. He ran off leaving the mystery man stranded with me. I wanted to kill this man, the words I heard him say about Y/n made me sick, he was dead. I didn’t care about the consequences. All I cared about was showing everyone what would happen if they touched what was mine. I don’t know how long I spent beating up that mystery man who’s name I would later find out to be James. I didn’t care that he was soon unconscious, I beat him up far beyond recognition. I don’t think I killed him but who knows maybe I did. I only stopped my attack when I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

Y/n stood behind me with a horrified look on her face. “Did you kill him?” Reality sunk in, I looked at my bloodied hands, James then Y/n. “No baby, I- he’s just sleeping, that’s all” I told her reassuringly, she didn’t buy it. I scanned Y/n’s body for any injuries and saw nothing new. “You’re okay now. I really did mean it when I said I would do anything for you. I would die for you, I would lie for you, keep it real for you, I will kill for you, my baby” I got up and held her close, promising that I would protect her. “Are you hurt?” I asked “No, but my head hurts” "Well no shit, you have staples in your head" “That was a pretty nasty wound” “I bet it looked cool though right?” “Very cool Y/n” “I don’t remember anything that happened after. How did I get here?” “That’s a story for another day my love, you need some rest.” I told Y/n. All I wanted to do was sleep. “I love you” “I love you too Y/n” and with that, we left.

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petrichoravery · 1 month ago

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But you peeked right over somehow | s.r

summery: your disbelief in love has always held you back from a relationship with Spencer, but you think it's time to be brave now.

word count: 2k

warnings: reader is avoidant and makes some weird decisions, but, like, be nice to her please, she's scared; mentions of avoidant attachment style, toxic relationships (someone having made r feel stupid and worthless in the past) and of parents fighting, but nothing detailed; reader is also mentioned to be drunk once, but it’s in past tense and it’s really just the word mentioned. English is not my first language.

a/n: the pictures are obviously no indication of how reader looks, they are just there to make this all look pretty and aesthetically pleasing. I've tried my best not to describe any physical appearance of reader. reader means a lot to me, I hope you’ll like her. Also, the gorgeous!! dividers are not mine, all credits to @/enchanthings-a on tumblr. The title is from 'circling' by tiny habits

You didn't believe in love—not the one in the movies, anyway. Your sad attempts at it have always ended with you feeling lonelier than before and your parents… well, let's just say they're not the best example either. So you built the walls higher and higher, placing brick upon brick, so no one would be able to look over them.

Until you met Spencer.

He has nested himself between the bricks like wisteria and has been so impossibly stubborn, but so kind about it, too. Never asking for more than the few fleeting moments you had. To the point were you weren't even sure if you wanted to rid yourself of him anymore.

You had met him at a reading of your favourite book a few years ago. You had forgotten your book on your seat and he had ran out and handed it back to you, a white piece of paper with messy handwriting in black ink slipped in between the pages. I like your taste in books, maybe you could recommend me some:). it had said, with his number on the bottom.

You had been friends for a while after that, because you always blocked his attempts of turning what you had into more.

Until one drunken mistake on your side turned into two and the two of you decided that: friends kiss, right? (Well, you decided it, Spencer was just happy to go along with whatever you were most comfortable with.)

For a while you convinced yourself that whatever you were feeling—the butterflies in your stomach, the way your heart was racing every time he touched you—was just lust. It was easier than admitting that you were falling hopelessly in love with him.

So when you woke up this morning, in your bed with him sleeping next to you, you couldn't help but watch him. The way the soft morning light, shining through the silk curtains, drew shapes onto his skin, the way his brown curls framed his face. You just hardly resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, your hand curling into a fist so hard that your nails dug half-moon shapes into your palm.

You got up after a few moments. Quietly, so you wouldn’t wake him. He landed in Virginia late after a case, but still decided to come over to your apartment, because he had forgotten something there. You ended up, self-sabotagingly, inviting him to stay the night and now you were here; with an angel in your bed and a devil on your shoulder.

You tip-toed into your kitchen, finally being able to breathe a little louder. Leaning onto the counter, hanging your head, you felt pathetic. This wasn't how things go for you, normally. You didn't pine and, even worse, yearn (you gagged at just the thought) for men like you were right now.

Then again, Spencer was far from normal.

And because of that, your heart was racing and you caught yourself, more often than not, at the bookstore in the classic section, asking yourself if Spencer had that copy of war and peace already. He probably did.

You scoff at yourself. Maybe you just needed to go to the club again. Cleanse yourself of this feeling. Forget about him and his stupid brown eyes, the way his hands feel when they— Stop.

"Are you okay?" A sleepy voice asks from the doorway.

You turn slowly. Spencer was still in his oversized gray sleep shirt, the fabric worn-out and thin. His hair a mess of brown, soft curls. God, get it together.

"Yeah," you mumble, "just…headaches."

He steps closer, careful, as if not to startle you. "Do you need anything? Ibuprofen?"

"No, I'm okay. Thank you."

He nods, but his eyes search your face. It’s clear that he knows something is off—he's a profiler, after all. He smoothes his hand over your wooden counter top and you wish so badly that those calloused hands were running over your skin instead.

"Breakfast?" You croak, already turning around and rummaging the cabinets for two mugs.

A hand finds your wrist, turning you around with a gentleness you're not sure you deserve. You pull away quickly, as if his touch burned you.

He frowns a little, but doesn't comment on it. "I'd love breakfast," he pauses, "Can you talk to me? Please?"

His idiotically big puppy-dog eyes and the way his hand feels on your skin makes you want to kiss him stupid.

So you do, impulsively. Kissing him was so much better than answering his questions and he might forget, as a good side affect—

Spencer pushed against your shoulders gently, untangling your lips from another after indulging for a short second—he was just a man, after all.

He knew that you were only kissing him to distract from the topic at hand and he also knew, that he would forget about this conversation too quickly if he let you.

"Not that I don't love kissing you, but something is bothering you and I want to understand what it is. So can you please talk to me?"

"About what?" You try and he looks at you, disbelieving.

"Come on—" he says your name, and it's so soft, "You've always been careful with the idea of an relationship with me, but it's been getting worse. You tense up every time I touch you and tip-toe around me. I just want to know if I did something to upset you. I want to fix it."

Your skin is crawling with his rejection of the kiss and you can't help the words of defensiveness bursting out of you. "You can't always fix everything, Spencer. I'm not just another case to solve."

Spencer doesn’t even flinch. "I know you're not. I'm sorry, my wording was off. I know something happened to you in the past and you need it slow and that's okay. I never pushed and I'm not pushing right now, but I want to understand what it is, what's going on in your head."

He was being so, so kind. You felt like crying. "Nothing! Nothing is going on in my head, just—" You feel like an animal in a cage, ready to chew off your foot to get out of the trap.

Spencer lets his hands drop from your shoulder to his side again, knowing you well enough to know that touch may not be comforting to you right now.

The gesture grounds you, reminds you that you are talking to kind, gentle Spencer, that he is only worried about you. So you try to reel back, trying your best to be just as kind, to be deserving of him. But you're a viper full of venom and you're sure you might never be able to purge it from your body enough to ever deserve him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, looking down at your miss-matched socks.

"It's okay. I understand." He's not sure what to do. An aggressive UnSub was nothing in comparison to you being uncomfortable and him being unable to help. "We don't have to talk about it. We can eat breakfast and I'll tell you about the stars again."

His lips quirk a little as you laugh, even if it was just the smallest sound, it was something.

"No, it's okay. I—" You have been knocking on Spencer's door and running away before he could welcome you in for too long. You have decided that you're ready to pass the doorstep now.

Your therapist has advised you to get out of comfort zone more, anyway, and if Spencer leaves after this conversation, at least you can go back to not believing in love. "I figured I had to tell you at some point. If I really wanted this to be a thing."

You gesture between the two of you at the last part, voice dropping to a quieter tone and you look up at him though your lashes without lifting your head.

He looks surprised. That's okay. You'll just laugh and pretend it was a joke—

"Yeah," he steps closer, brushing hair out of your face, "if that's what you want. I’m not forcing you to."

"I know you're not." You sigh, closing your eyes as his fingertips brush against your jaw. "Truth is, nothing really happened. I guess I've just had rotten luck in love."

The hair tie you're wearing on your wrist is suddenly so interesting and you chew on your lip to have something to do with your mouth, otherwise you'd just blurt out everything he wants to know.

"My parents have been fighting more than they haven't since I've been really young. Nothing too bad, but it was obvious that they weren't in love. I doubt they ever were."

Spencer doesn't say anything, choosing to let you finish without comment. He knows what's coming, he's been through it, too. Parents who fight, relationships that fail, never feeling loved in the way the movies show you. It can make you feel hopeless.

"I was a late bloomer, I guess. I've had my first relationship at twenty-two. Not that I cared, I had convinced myself that I didn't want love at that point, anyway. So when I did find it�� I was elated. I thought, yes! finally it's my turn. Well, they hurt me quite badly, made me feel bad for everything that I didn't know, like—like they were better than me. Maybe they were, I don't know, it doesn't matter."

Ouch. Spencer thought. No one deserves that. Much less you. His hands find your wrist again and his thumb slides over your pulse point.

"They're not." He says with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe him. "Someone who makes people feel bad for trying to learn things is not, in any way, better than the person who is trying."

You shake your head. "No, it's okay. I— yeah. It's whatever. It just hurt in that moment."

You do that a lot, Spencer notes, pushing your feelings onto your past-self like they don't affect you now, when he knows they do. Or else you wouldn't be here.

"I did go on a few date after that," you continue after a short pause, "but I kept myself locked away pretty tightly. Never let it go further than the third date. A few years later, when I let someone else in, it got quite toxic, quite quickly. From both sides. We were dependent and avoidant at the same time. They were just…they showed me off a lot and were so gentle and kind, but I realised after a while that it was just their way of making sure I stayed. And I…I started feeling trapped and accused them of some pretty messed up stuff. We didn't make it really far after that."

Tears start building on your lash line and you look at the ceiling, begging them to stay buried. That was your tell, Spencer knew it too well. He brushed his thumb under your eyes.

"You don't have to." He murmurs.

"I'm almost done." You promise and look at him for the first time since you started the story. "I didn't have any serious relationships after that, just…harmless flirting, but I was too scared to let myself fall again. I never felt loved enough, I guess…or I was just selfish and greedy."

Spencer shakes his head. "You deserve the love you want." Ducking his head, he makes sure you're looking at him. "That's not selfish."

"I think I did." You whisper with the shyness of a high-school kid, eyes searching between his. "Find it, I mean."

The corners of Spencer's mouth lift into his wonderful smile and for once in your life you know you've said the right thing.

"Lucky me." He answers, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him gently.

"Yeah. Lucky." You breathe out, wrapping your arms around his waist. It was clear that you don't quite know just how lucky someone must be to have you in their life and Spencer was going to work hard to make sure you will.

You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Thank you." You whisper.

"Don't thank me yet." He chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling the top of your head. You melt into him at his words, as if his stupid joke had a magical soothing effect. Of course you'd thank him. You won't stop thanking him for being him until you were six feet under.

"I'm sorry for snapping. I just—"

"Don't. It's okay. You don't need to explain yourself to me." He says, earnestly, into your hair.

"I know I don't. It wasn't fair of me, though."

"Maybe. But better unfair and raw, than fair and polished. I want you, un-performing."

You sigh into his shoulder. Being open was hard when you've been burnt for it before and you knew there was much to overcome, but you didn't doubt one bit, that you could overcome every hurdle with the help of Spencer. Step by step growing on your walls together. Wisteria and ivy.

a/n: please don't hesitate to send me your thoughts and show support by re-blogging, commenting and liking if you liked the fic!!

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