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hoe4hotchner · 2 months ago

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With blood on his hands | [A.H]

Pairing: UnSub!Hotch x gn!reader CW: Dark. This story contains descriptions of graphic violence, murder, mental illness, grief, and emotional distress. Dark themes, betrayal, loss of control, and fear, kidnapping, physical aggression, helplessness. WC: 5.2k

Please don't request a part 2 unless you have a very specific idea, my brain physically couldn't come up with more plot for this.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Bearing signs of life throughout the whole layout of the building, yet the disturbing truth of what had happened made you uneasy.

It was the same scene they’d encountered twice already - an all-American family, slaughtered in their home, with no apparent struggle, no clear motive. A mother, a father, and their young son, all lying lifeless, their blood staining the carpets, their lives ruthlessly cut short.

You stood beside Rossi, your hands clad in gloves, and a frown etched upon your face as you surveyed the scene. The scent of blood and suffering hung heavy in the air, choking your senses. You had seen your fair share of horrors, but this was different. This unsub was different.

"Third one this week," Rossi murmured beside you, his voice gruff with exhaustion and irritation, feeling the weight of the case starting to take its toll. "We need to catch this guy before he strikes again."

You nodded, eyes scanning the room as your mind worked through the details. This unsub wasn’t just killing; he was destroying. The brutality of the murders suggested rage - deep and personal rage. There was a familiarity to the way everything was laid out that you couldn't put a finger on.

You stepped over to the nightstand, where the mother’s jewelry lay scattered. Your eyes caught a golden ring, glinting in the light. You reached for it instinctively, feeling a strange pull toward the piece of metal. It was simple but familiar, in a way that made your stomach churn with suspicion.

Frowning, you held it up to the light, inspecting it. That’s when it hit you like a punch to the gut.

You knew this ring.

Your blood ran cold as memories flooded your mind. Years of working alongside him, watching him fiddle with that exact band on long nights at the office, lost in thought as he processed information and clues. You had seen it on his finger countless times.

Hotch.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a dizzying sense of disbelief washing over you. There was no way. No possible way. You told yourself it was a mistake, that the stress of the case was playing tricks on your mind.

But the more you stared at the ring, the more your instincts screamed at you.

You weren't wrong about this.

You swallowed hard, slipping the ring back onto the dresser. Rossi hadn’t noticed your reaction, he was busy analyzing the scene with his usual calm efficiency. You forced yourself to stay composed, your mind racing.

The families. The pattern. A mother, a father, and a young son. Haley and Jack. It was so obvious.

It all clicked into place with horrifying clarity. Hotch's stressor… the deaths of his family. You remembered the way he had shut down after losing them, how the grief had changed him. But never in your worst nightmares could you have imagined this. This was not the man you knew.

You took a shaky breath, your mind spinning. You couldn’t tell Rossi - not yet - he wouldn't believe you. Wouldn't believe that his oldest friend was capable of this. Not until you were sure. Not until you’d seen Aaron, looked him in the eyes, and confronted him yourself. You owed him that much.

"Dave," you said, forcing your voice to stay steady, "I’m going to head out. I need to check something."

He glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. "You okay? You look pale."

"I’m fine," you lied, offering a weak smile. "Just need to follow up on a hunch."

Rossi nodded, distracted by something on the floor, and you took the opportunity to slip away, your heart pounding in your chest. You could barely keep your hands from trembling as you made your way out of the house and into your car. Thankfully you had arrived separately.

The drive to Aaron’s old house felt like a blur, your mind spinning with possibilities. Every part of you hoped you were wrong. That this was all some horrible mistake, that there was no way the man you had worked with for years could be behind these murders, that this was truly just some twisted dream, and that you'd wake up soon.

But deep down, you knew.

This was reality.

When you pulled up to Aaron’s house, the pit in your stomach deepened. His car was in the driveway, the lights inside the house dim and all the curtains closed. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm. You had to confront him. You had to know the truth.

You walked up to the door, every step feeling like a death sentence. When you knocked, there was a long pause. Then the door creaked open, revealing Aaron, standing in the doorway. He looked disheveled, his eyes dark and sunken, the weight of grief and something darker pressing down on him.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice low and rough. "What are you doing here?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You stared at him, your heart racing as you noticed the subtle signs - the tension in his posture, the way his hands flexed at his sides. And most of all, the unmistakable wedding band missing from his finger.

"I…" you began, your voice trembling. "I need to talk to you."

Aaron’s eyes flickered, something unreadable passing behind them. He stepped aside, letting you in without a word. You walked into the house, the air thick with tension, your nerves screaming at you to turn around and leave, to get out while you still had the chance. But you couldn’t. Not now.

As you stepped further into the room, your eyes landed on something that made your stomach drop - on the kitchen counter, barely noticeable, was a small streak of blood. Fresh blood.

Aaron closed the door behind you, the sound echoing ominously through the quiet house.

"You shouldn’t have come here," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, the realization crashing down on you with terrifying certainty. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t just your old colleague. He wasn’t just the man that had been your boss. He was the unsub you were looking for. He was the monster you’d been chasing.

And now, you were alone with him.

Hotch stood over the lifeless body sprawled across the floor in his living room, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his knuckles bruised and bloody. The man beneath him had been dead for several minutes now, his face a mangled mess of flesh and bone, barely recognizable.

Hotch’s fists clenched and unclenched, the blood dripping from his fingers painting the carpet with small, crimson pools. His heart was pounding, not from fear or guilt, but from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. He should have felt something - regret, remorse, shame—but there was only emptiness. Nothingness. And rage.

The rage never left him. It simmered beneath the surface, a constant presence, threatening to consume him whole. After Haley and Jack, everything had spiraled. Their deaths had shattered the last bit of humanity he had clung to. He had tried, God knows he had tried, to be the man everyone needed. The leader. The protector. But after them, something inside him had broken, irreparably so.

At first, he had managed to keep it hidden. But over time, the mask had slipped, the cracks becoming impossible to cover. The anger had grown, festering like a disease, until it had taken over every part of him. It was easier this way. Easier to stop pretending to be the good guy, the man who saved lives, when all he wanted to do was destroy them.

Besides the way he had hurt Foyet had felt so good.

He turned his head, his gaze cold and calculating, as a knock landed on the door.

The scent of sweat hung thick in the air, and the room was suffocating with the tension of your predicament.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock, taking in the scene before you. The man on the ground, the blood, the violence. And Hotch. Not a single drop could be seen on his clothes. Only his hands bore signs of the crime. Your mouth moved, but no sound came out. You were frozen, paralyzed by the realization of what you were seeing. What he had done.

Hotch stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. The look on your face - the fear, the disbelief - only fueled the fire inside him. For a moment, there was silence, an unbearable tension hanging between the two of you.

Then, he spoke. His voice was low, a growl barely restrained by the thin thread of control he had left within him.

“You really shouldn’t have come here.” He repeated his previous statement

You blinked, finally finding your voice. “Aaron... what have you done? This isn't you.”

Hotch’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something unrecognizable. He took a step toward you, the cold gleam in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. “I did what needed to be done.”

You could barely breathe, your mind racing as you tried to process what had happened. This wasn’t the man you knew. The man you had worked with for years, the man you had trusted. The man you had secretly loved. He terrified you now. This was someone else entirely - a predator, who was cold and unfeeling.

“Aaron, please...” Your voice shook as you took a step back, instinctively retreating from the danger that loomed before you. “You don’t have to do this.”

His eyes flashed with anger, and in an instant, he was on you, his hand gripping your arm with a force that made you wince. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t tell me what I have to do. You don't know anything”

You swallowed hard, trying to remain calm despite the fear coursing through you. “This isn’t you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re not a killer.”

His grip tightened, and you gasped, pain shooting through you as you felt him slightly twisting your arm. “Aren’t I?” His voice was sharp and dangerous. “Do you know what it feels like, to lose everything? Watching them die? Knowing you couldn’t stop it? Knowing that you weren't fast enough?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to pull away from him, but his hold was unrelenting. “Aaron, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “This won’t bring them back. What Foyet did was terrible.”

For a moment, you thought you saw something - some flicker of humanity cross his face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by cold indifference. He released you, shoving you back roughly. You stumbled, catching yourself against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.

Hotch stood there, his eyes burning with fury, his hands still stained with blood. “Don't tell me what's right or wrong. They’re gone and nothing can bring them back,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice void of emotion. “There’s nothing left for me but this.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “There’s more to you than this. You’re better than this, Aaron. I know you are.”

He laughed, a bitter, cruel sound that sent chills down your spine. “Better? Better for who? For you? For the bureau didn't trust me to be in the field after what happened?” His eyes bore into yours, and you could feel the hatred radiating off him. “Do you really think you know me? The man I am now?”

You didn’t answer, too afraid of what he might do next. His rage was palpable, an almost physical force that seemed to fill the room, choking you with its intensity.

He moved toward you again, his eyes wild, his movements erratic. “You think you can save me? Is that it? You always had a savior complex, just like Morgan.” He grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You can’t save me. No one can.”

You trembled under his touch, your heart thrashing in your chest, trying to claw its way out as his fingers dug into your skin. For a moment, you thought he might hurt you, that you might face the same predicament as the lifeless body in his living room. That he might go too far. But then, just as quickly as the anger had flared, it seemed to dissipate, leaving only emptiness in its wake.

He released you, stepping back, his breathing heavy and uneven. His hands shook as he wiped them on his pants, the blood smearing across the fabric. He looked at you, something dark and broken in his eyes. “You should leave,” he said, his voice hollow as he turned his back to you.

You swallowed, your throat dry. “Aaron—”

“Go.” His voice was cold, final. There was no room for argument.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the part of you that wanted to stay, to help him, and the part that knew he was too far gone. Finally, with a heavy heart, you turned and walked toward the door, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

As you reached the doorway, you turned back to look at him one last time. He was standing in the center of the room, staring down at his blood-stained hands, his expression unreadable.

“Aaron,” you whispered, a single tear rolling down your cheek, and your voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

But he didn’t look back. He didn’t say a word. And as you stepped out into the night, the door closing behind you with a soft click, you knew that the man you had once known was gone.

The door had barely closed behind you when Hotch’s mind snapped back into a cold calculation. He could still feel the sting of your words in the air, your plea for him to stop. You should leave, he’d told you. But now, as silence wrapped around him, a horrifying realization dawned - you knew of him.

Who else knew?

You were the only one who had seen him like this, who knew what he had done. The team… They would never believe it on their own. Not until you told them, he was sure of that. But what evidence did you have to back up your claim?

His pulse quickened. His anger, momentarily soothed by the violence he'd unleashed, flared again. He couldn’t let you leave. He wouldn’t.

He moved quickly, his body still humming with adrenaline. You had made it to the end of the driveway when you heard him behind you. His footsteps were heavy and purposeful. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Aaron?" you called over your shoulder, your voice trembling. But there was no response, only the oppressive sound of his approaching footsteps. Fear gripped you.

Before you could take another step, he was on you. His strong hand wrapped around your wrist like a vice, yanking you back toward him with brutal force. You gasped, struggling against his hold, but it was no use. His grip was unyielding, his expression dark and twisted as he dragged you back into the house, thankful that he and Haley had bought a house in a secluded area.

"You thought you could just walk away?" His voice was low, a deadly whisper, sending a chill down your spine. "That you could leave me and run straight to the team? Tell them about what I've been doing?"

You blinked, fear coursing through you as you tried to speak. "No, Aaron, I—"

"Don’t lie to me!" he snarled, his face inches from yours. "I see it in your eyes. You were going to tell them. Weren’t you?"

Terror constricted your throat. You wanted to scream, to plead with him, but the words wouldn’t come. His anger was suffocating, his eyes filled with a malice you’d never seen before.

"I can’t let you do that," he said, his voice eerily calm now, the storm of his fury momentarily quieted by cold calculation. "You’ll ruin everything. This—" He gestured to the leftover blood still staining his hands. "This is who I am now. And you’re not going to stop me."

Without warning, he yanked you roughly into the storage closet, slamming the door shut behind him. The darkness swallowed you both whole. You stumbled, trying to catch your balance, but Hotch was determined. His large frame loomed over you, his hand still gripping your wrist with bruising force.

"Please, Aaron, you don’t have to do this," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to reason with him. Tried to pull yourself out of his grip.

But his expression was unreadable now, lost in the darkness. His fingers tightened around your wrist, and you winced in pain. A high-pitched whimper left your throat as the pain coursed through every single nerve in your body.

"I do." His voice was cold, devoid of the empathy and warmth you once knew in him. "You’re the only one who knows as far as I can tell. And if I let you walk out of here, it’s over for me."

Your breath hitched, panic rising in your chest. "Aaron, I won’t tell anyone," you pleaded, desperation leaking into your voice. "I swear, I—"

"I told you don’t lie to me," he hissed, cutting you off with a deadly glare. "I can’t trust you. Not anymore."

The air was thick with tension, the weight of his gaze suffocating. You could barely make out the features of his face as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, but you could feel the cold determination, it was unmistakable. He had made up his mind. There was no reasoning with him, no turning back.

Hotch fumbled with something on the wall and soon enough the overhead light bulb flickered on, the dim light barely bright enough to light up his features. Before you could react, Hotch pulled a length of duct tape from a nearby shelf, yanking it free with a sharp sound. Your heart raced, and you instinctively tried to back away, but he was faster. With a cruel efficiency, he shoved you up against the wall, pressing his body against yours to keep you in place.

“Stop fighting me,” he growled, his breath hot on your neck.

You struggled, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but it was no use. He was stronger, and his anger gave him a terrifying, unnatural strength. The tape wound around your wrists, biting into your skin as he bound you tightly. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized there was no escape.

When he was finished, he stepped back, watching you with an unnerving calm. Your heart pounded in your chest, panic threatening to overtake you.

"What are you going to do?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Hotch tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he considered you. “I’m going to make sure you can’t destroy everything.” His voice was cold, emotionless. “I’ve lost too much already. I won’t lose control again.”

Without warning, he grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder with brutal force. You screamed, but the sound was muffled by the closet walls. His grip on you was like iron as he carried you out of the building, and into the garage where his car waited patiently.

You thrashed against him, panic clawing at your throat. But it didn’t matter. His mind was made up, and his body moved with the cold precision of a man who had crossed the line of no return, a man who wasn’t coming back.

He tossed you into the trunk of his SUV, the metal cold against your back as he slammed the hatch shut, trapping you inside. The darkness closed in around you, and all you could hear was the sound of your own panicked breathing and the engine roaring as Hotch turned the car on.

You were trapped.

The engine screeched as Hotch drove with grim determination, the rain streaking the windshield of his SUV. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white at the force of his grip. You still lay in the cramped trunk, the tape burning the skin on your wrists as you struggled to free yourself. Hotch had made a stop after about an hour on the road on the road to gag your screams, he was tired of hearing your begs and pleas for mercy. You lay helpless as the vehicle bumped along the dark, slick road. Every movement jostled your body, sending sharp pains through your limbs, but the terror coursing through you dulled the physical discomfort.

The man behind the wheel was someone you thought you knew. But this version of Hotch was a stranger.

His phone buzzed on the dashboard, but he ignored it. You could barely make out the faint sounds through the barrier between you, but you knew it had to be the team. They had to realize by now. But the phone in your pocket still clutched tightly against your side despite the restraints, was your only lifeline. Garcia could trace it if you managed to answer it the next time they tried your number. The team would find you, you were sure of it.

But Hotch already knew that. And he wasn’t going to let it happen.

Your heart raced as the SUV took a sharp turn, causing your body to slide slightly across the floor of the trunk. The storm outside was intensifying, and you could feel your anxiety building in the way he drove — focused and determined. He had a plan.

The car slowed, the rhythmic thud of the rain against the roof of the trunk filling the silence. He pulled off the main road, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires. Your pulse quickened as the vehicle came to a stop.

A car door slammed shut, and you heard his heavy footsteps approaching. The trunk popped open, letting in the cool, rain-soaked air. Hotch loomed over you, his face set in a harsh, emotionless mask. Without a word, he reached down, his grip bruising as he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the trunk. You stumbled onto the muddy ground, barely able to keep your balance.

His fingers moved deftly, reaching into your pocket and yanking out your phone. His lips curled into a dark smirk, his eyes flashing with twisted amusement.

“You thought the team would save you,” he grinned in a low almost scary voice. “You thought Garcia would trace this… pathetic.” He held up your phone. A flash of lightning struck down in the distance behind him.

Before you could react, he dropped the phone on the ground and crushed it under his heel before throwing it into the lake you had stopped near. You barely heard it splash into water over the sound of the pounding rain. Hotch calmly walked over to a large rock, grabbing it with both hands. You watched in horror as he smashed his own phone repeatedly, reducing it to a mess of shattered glass and plastic.

Your only connection to the outside world was now gone.

Hotch turned back to you, his face illuminated by the brief flashes of lightning. His expression was as cold and unfeeling as the storm around you, but there was something darker in his eyes — a satisfaction in watching your hope slip away.

“You always were smart,” he murmured, stepping closer, towering over you. “Too smart for your own good.”

Without another word, he shoved you back into the trunk, his strength leaving no room for resistance. You were thrown back into the small, confined space. The rain and the outside world disappeared, leaving you in pitch-black darkness once again.

The car started again, the engine rumbling as Hotch continued driving. You were no longer sure where you were, feeling like he potentially had driven you in circles to throw you off track, and that uncertainty gnawed at you. There was no doubt in your mind that Hotch had planned this meticulously. He had been covering his tracks, eliminating threats, and now he was eliminating your ability to interfere.

The drive felt endless, the sound of rain against the roof your only marker of time passing. You tried to shift, to loosen the restraints on your wrists, but every movement sent sharp pain through your limbs. The car’s motion made you nauseous, the fear and discomfort blending into a haze.

Eventually, the car slowed again. You felt the shift in the vehicle as it came to a stop. The air was suffocating, your breath quickening in panic as you heard the sound of the driver’s door opening for the third time and then the distant crunch of dried leaves under Hotch’s footsteps. Where had he taken you?

The trunk opened again, and Hotch’s silhouette was backlit by the faintest glimmer of moonlight filtering through the storm clouds looming above. His face was unreadable, but there was no regret, no hesitation in his actions. He reached in and grabbed you roughly by the arm as he pulled you from the trunk once more.

You were in the middle of nowhere - an abandoned building ahead, its windows dark and some of them were even shattered.

The perfect place for someone to disappear.

“We’re going inside,” Hotch growled, his voice harsh and barren of the warmth it once held.

Your legs buckled beneath you, no strength left to carry your body, but Hotch didn’t care. He hauled you toward the entrance of the building with ease, his grip bruising on your bicep as he pulled you through the door. The interior was pitch black, the only sound was your rapid, panicked breaths and the distant rumble of thunder as the last of the storm was passing you.

He led you through the building, the air biting at your skin. You could feel the hatred radiating from him - the complete absence of the man you once knew. He stopped in the center of a large, empty room, turning to face you with a dark, predatory gaze.

“You should’ve stayed out of it,” he hissed, his voice low and dripping with venom. “But you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to know.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he reached out, his fingers gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, cold and merciless.

“You’ll wish you hadn’t.”

The BAU team gathered in their conference room, the air filled with a heavy silence. The flickering lights of the monitors and the scattered case files did little to lighten the grim atmosphere. The latest string of killings had left them all feeling drained and frustrated. They knew the pattern - the targeted families of three - but the connection was proving elusive.

Reid, hunched over his paper files, spoke up. “The pattern is consistent. Every victim family has been targeted in a specific order: the father is always the first to go, followed by the mother, and then the child. We’re missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. Why does the unsub want the sons to watch their parents get murdered?”

Morgan, pacing back and forth, nodded grimly. “We’ve checked financial records, phone records, and even personal connections, but nothing’s coming up. It’s like the unsub is just a ghost.” He listed, counting with his fingers as he mentioned each thing.

Rossi, reviewing photos from the crime scenes, frowned in concentration. “There’s something we’re not seeing. Maybe we need to look at the details of each scene once again, this time more closely. There’s got to be a common thread.”

Garcia was furiously typing away, her eyes darting between various screens. She was usually the one bringing good news or revelations, but this time her face was a mask of worry. “I’ve cross-referenced all known data, and I’m still coming up empty. It’s like the unsub is erasing every trace of himself.”

Penelope’s words were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a new piece of evidence popping up on her screen. The team watched in quiet concern as she displayed a series of images on the large television screen behind them. The new evidence came from a tech at the latest crime scene.

“Look at this,” Garcia said, her voice trembling slightly as she pointed to a photo of a golden wedding ring lying on a dresser. “I’ve run the image through our database. It’s not just any ring. It’s a unique design only a handful made in total, and I found a match.”

The room fell silent as the team examined the image. Reid’s eyes widened as he recognized the significance too. “That ring… it’s a distinct piece. I’ve seen it before.”

Rossi’s gaze shifted from the photo to Garcia. “You’re saying this ring could be linked to someone we know?”

Garcia nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “I cross-referenced it with our records, and it matches the description of a ring worn by someone in our team.” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she saw the name displayed on her laptop.

The realization hit like a thunderclap. The team exchanged worried glances, their earlier frustration giving way to a new kind of dread. Rossi’s face darkened as he leaned in closer.

Garcia nodded again, her expression serious as she confirmed the words Rossi had been about to ask. “The ring belongs to Hotch.”

The room erupted into chaos. Morgan’s eyes widened in shock, and Reid’s expression was one of horror. “No way,” Morgan said, his voice filled with disbelief. “Hotch? He’s one of the most dedicated agents we’ve ever worked with.”

“Is there any chance it could be a coincidence?” Rossi asked, his voice tight with concern. "That it's one of the other owners of similar rings?"

Garcia shook her head, her face pale. “I don’t think so, they've all been spotted across the country and have rock-solid alibis. The design is too specific. And if Hotch is involved, we need to find him before it’s too late.”

Reid began to piece together the information, his mind racing. “If Hotch is connected to the unsub, then it’s possible that he’s been orchestrating these murders from within. We need to act fast.”

The team sprang into action, their earlier determination now transformed into urgency. Rossi and Morgan began to gather additional evidence and check Hotch’s recent whereabouts. Reid and Garcia worked on tracking Hotch’s phone, hoping to pinpoint his location.

As the team raced against time, their focus sharpened on finding Hotch and uncovering the truth behind his involvement in the killings. Each agent’s heart pounded with the realization that someone they trusted might be the very monster they were hunting. But they were not ready to admit it just yet.

Meanwhile, the darkness within Hotch continued to grow, his plans advancing while the team desperately tried to uncover the truth.

The next move was crucial - finding Hotch could be the piece they were missing.

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neobomb · 1 year ago

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give into things i (dont) want to [lee haechan] - the sequel

bully! (yandere) stalker! Haechan x innocent! virgin! church girl!reader Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. please read part 1 before reading this Word Count: 1.6k [Pt.1] [Pt.2] Warnings: dark and triggering content, mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, manipulation, forcing??, choking & breathplay?, hair pulling, unprotected sex, corruption kink, noncon, fingering, creampie, loss of virginity, MDNI, smut smut smut Summery: bully!Haechan is secretly in love with you and loves pulling your hair bc it feeds into his perverted fantasies. btw, donghyuk is haechan's real name. donghyuk, hyuk and haechan are all haechan. for the one person who wished to be tagged: @got-sum-badhabits © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

“Please, Donghyuk, stop...” Haechan gently breaks the kiss, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. His fingers delicately weave through your hair, brushing the strands that softly kiss your shoulders. Tears wells in your eyes as he tightens his fist in your hair, tugging harshly until you hiss through gritted teeth, your eyes looking up at him with the same innocence he is awfully familiar with.

“I stole your first kiss, didn’t I?” he says as his lips form a deranged smile. You find yourself in a state of paralysis, words eluding your grasp, unable to sculpt the sentence you so desperately seek. You muster all your willpower, attempting to dodge his lustful gaze by avertedly turning your head down.

“Too bad you can’t take it back now.” he says, yanking your head up, letting a loud intake of air grace through your lips. His hands make its way down your shoulders and up to your delicate throat, his thumb brushing the wounded areas marked by his fingerprints.

“It’s too easy.” he inspects his work on your throat, feeling how the skin gently rises as you gulp in nervousness. He is accustomed to your episodes of panic, especially when he would hold you up against your locker, but never had he seen it manifest quite like this.

“that I can just take your life away in a heartbeat if I wanted to.” His fingers intertwined tightly, securing a firm grip around your throat once again. He grins with delight as your eyes widen, your body shaking erratically from fear.

“God, you’re so pretty like this” he says, tightening his grip around your neck. “Even with your short hair you look so fucking pretty.” Despite his dislike for your decision to change your haircut to suit Jaehyun's tastes, your beauty remains undeniable. After all, it was your radiant beauty that drove him crazy, making him go to immeasurable extents to gain your attention. Even with your life in his hands at play, deep down, Haechan knows that you’re the one in control.

“Strip for me, baby” he whispers into your ears, making shivers travel down your spine. “If you want me to spare your life, you do as I say” he reminds you. You have no choice but to slowly bring your hands up to the collar of your shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. As your fingers graze the final button, a brief pause of hesitation halts your movements, but his tightening grip around your neck tells you to continue.

You let your white button-up shirt drop to the floor, leaving you in your slightly see-through lace bra that compliments your skin tone perfectly. His favorite, he thinks to himself. Haechan pauses, taking the opportunity to truly observe you up close—a contrast to the distant glimpses through your bedroom window he's been accustomed to until now. His dick becomes painfully hard at the sight.

You slowly bring your hands to your back, struggling to find the hook of your bra clasp. Without hesitation, Haechan moves swiftly, his free hand goes behind your back to undo your bra before you let it slip off of your shoulders and down to the floor. You feel awfully exposed in front of him. Instinctively, you bring your hands up in an attempt to shield your body from his gaze.

“Don’t hide from me, baby” Immediately, he brings your arms behind your back, locking them in place by your wrists. “Now, take off that skirt of yours without hiding from me.” he demands, releasing his grip around your wrists, letting you slowly push down your skirt and panties onto the floor in one swift move.

He pauses, allowing himself to fully appreciate the breathtaking view of your completely naked body. He makes sure to scan every inch of your body with his eyes, making sure to commit every detail to memory with deliberate care. The feeling of your body so close to his will remain etched in his mind.

“Perfect baby, you look so fucking perfect.” he whispers before stealing another lustful kiss from your lips, hand still around your neck until this very moment. With his free hand, softly cupping your clit, brushing one finger up and down until your pussy starts to glisten from the wetness that forms. You desperately try to muffle your moans into the kiss while pressing your thighs together from the discomfort.

“So pure, so untouched. All for me to destroy.” he whispers as his lips make their way down your body, ensuring that visible love bites mark every place his lips have visited. He releases his hands from your neck, restoring the rhythm of your breath to its natural, steady pace. To your relief, you’re no longer suffocating.

Just as his lips were almost brushing against your clit, you gather every shred of valor and prepare to voice your thoughts. “You’re a pervert” Your speech stumbles and gets trapped in your throat while your chest begins to heave with quick, irregular breaths at the realization of his actions.

“What a big mouth you got, baby girl?” he says, his eyes lift to meet yours, wide with astonishment. “I was about to go easy on you, baby. I wanted to make you cum with my lips.” Immediately, you regret ever saying those words, pressing yourself more firmly against the wall, wishing to simply vanish into nothingness.

“I won’t be gentle now” your eyes widen before he grabs you and pins you to your desk, leaving your ass up in the air for him to smack. For a moment, he stares at your naked ass, brushing his fingers over the red handprint he just made. He spits into your hole to lubricate it before leaning over you and lining his length up with your hole. Without any warning, he pushes his dick into you in one swift move. You sob, eyes tightly shut from the discomfort.

You feel tight, wet and warm around his cock. He can’t help but push until he settles balls deep inside of you, wanting nothing more than for you to feel every inch of him before he starts moving at an uncomfortable fast pace. He tips his head back to the ceiling, and moans your name.

“Fuck… Pussy so tight…” His voice was strained with arousal as your nails dig into your desk. Moans progressively loader as the speed of his thrusts increased. The contents of your desk cascade onto the floor as a result.

“Hyuk, it hurts…” you say in desperation. The sweetness in your voice gets him to rub circles on your clit, to which you force yourself to focus on rather than the constant painful stretch. His hips are still slapping into your ass loudly at a brutal pace, making you squirm below him. He is making it clear that he intends to show you no mercy. He wouldn’t be able to hold back even if he wanted to.

“Stay still.” he growls as he brings his hand from your clit to further press your upper body to the wooden surface of your desk. He feels your juices mixed with a hint of blood in a diluted reddish color, oozing out of you, coating his cock with every thrusts. Just from feeling your pussy pulse around him, he is certain of your growing ease.

“You want to be Jaehyun’s so bad, huh?” he hiss, knowing that his thrusts get sloppier. The pleasure has now turned you into a crying mess and you could do nothing but let him ram his dick into you. “What would Jaehyun think when he sees you beneath me like this?” he leans forward to tell you. Even though he is extremely close to reaching his own climax, he forces himself to keep the rhythm steady, determined to make you reach yours first.

“You’re mine. I’m gonna keep you like this forever.” he says. From the gratifying hum that just escaped your lips, he is convinced that you have surrendered to the thought. And with a few more thrusts, your eyes roll back as you grasp for something to ground you. He grabs a tight hold on your hips, nails digging into your skin to keep you from escaping your orgasm.

He watches you come undone, feeling your walls clam down on his cock. He can’t help but completely stand still, observing your trembling body. He leans down and whispers “Don’t move”.

You twist your head to catch a glimpse of him, your gaze awkwardly angled to the side. With each passing moment, his sense of relief grew, sensing your surrender. He could feel the weight of your defeat and the shame of realizing you were powerless against it. How pathetic, he thinks to himself.

“Look at you.” he growls as his hips start to move again, pounding his length in and out of you.

“I can break you so easily” He released a deep, guttural groan. Soon enough, you feel his cock twitch against your walls as he starts to fill you, making certain that his cum is securely pushed in the depths of your womb. Slowly, he pulls his softening dick out with such precision that not a droplet dares to spill out of you.

"You belong to me now" Haechan remarks, his smile carrying an unsettling edge, recognizing the helplessness in your eyes. The gleam of amusement in his expression was unmistakably genuine.

At this very moment, you have given into his deep desires. Haechan finally gets his way after all... like he always does....

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s-sugustar · 6 months ago

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more perv!reiner PULLEASSSEEEE !!!

more perv boyfriend!reiner hcs!

perv!reiner who whines every time you make him eat you out. hands tied behind his back on his knees. you sitting at the edge of the bed, barely in a bra with the rest of you exposed. reiner whines at the loss of contact as you pulled him away from your entrance with a stern grip in his hair.

perv!reiner who cries when he doesn't get to hold your thighs wen eating you out. upset that only his tongue is put to work.

perv!reiner who wears in vibrator in public, with you being able to control it from your phone. you love seeing the way reiner jumps or gets flustered as you turn up the setting.

perv!reiner who catches armin sniffing around your laundry basket in search of used panties. reiner isn't upset one bit since he understands; but you on the other hand, you were pissed. Reiner kept that little secret from you for weeks before you found out from armin himself. poor boy was so scared and ashamed when telling you but you weren't upset until he let it slide that he told reiner when it happened.

perv!reiner shocked when he comes back home and finds you in bed with your legs spread and armin in between them lapping away at your juices. praises slipping from your mouth as armin continued to eat you out, his thumb near to your ass.

perv!reiner who was ready to join but you told him to go and sit in the corner of the room; his punishmnet for not telling you. poor rei has to sit all alone in the corner with his hand in his pants, trying to feel something. "Come on Y/n, please."

perv!reiner who had to sit through you being fucked out by armin, your cum coating his dick as he thrusted into you. "Yeah baby that's right, you're doing so good for me."

perv!reiner who you ordered to clean you up after armin came inside of you. cheeks burning red as his hands found their way around your thighs, head buried in between them as he licked you clean. mouth open wide for inspection just to make sure he swallowed everything.

perv boyfriend!reiner braun hcs — prt 1

#anime #— 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓!#— 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧 !#— 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧 !#— 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭 !#reiner braun x black!fem! reader #reiner braun x black reader smut #reiner braun x black reader #reiner braun smut #x black!reader #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x black reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan smut

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safeguardinsuranceservices · 5 months ago

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Insurance Inspection National Coverage: Unifying Risk Assessment Across Borders

In the complex world of insurance, risk assessment is paramount. It’s the foundation upon which premiums are set and policies are crafted. Enter insurance inspection national coverage, a concept revolutionizing the industry by standardizing risk evaluation processes across diverse geographical landscapes. This article delves into the significance of insurance inspection national coverage, its transformative impact, and the benefits it brings to insurers and policyholders alike.

The Significance of Insurance Inspection National Coverage

In the past, insurance inspections varied greatly depending on the location and the inspection company hired. This lack of consistency could lead to disparities in risk assessment, potentially resulting in inaccurate premiums and coverage terms. However, with the introduction of national coverage, insurers now have access to a unified framework for inspections, ensuring a consistent and reliable assessment of risks regardless of where the property is located.

Transformative Impact

Standardization: National coverage establishes standardized protocols and criteria for insurance inspections, eliminating the inconsistencies prevalent in the past. This ensures that all properties undergo thorough and consistent evaluations, leading to more accurate risk assessments.

Efficiency: By tapping into a nationwide network of inspectors, insurers can streamline the inspection process. This means quicker scheduling, faster turnaround times, and ultimately, expedited underwriting decisions. The efficiency gained through national coverage translates into enhanced operational agility and improved customer service.

Accuracy: With standardized inspection processes, insurers can rely on more accurate and objective assessments of risk. This reduces the likelihood of errors or discrepancies in risk evaluation, leading to fairer premiums and coverage terms for policyholders.

Benefits for Insurers and Policyholders

Improved Underwriting Decisions: National coverage empowers insurers to make more informed underwriting decisions. With consistent inspection reports and risk assessments, insurers can tailor coverage options and premiums to better reflect the actual risk associated with a property.

Enhanced Customer Experience: Policyholders benefit from a more seamless and transparent insurance process. They can expect consistent inspection experiences, regardless of where their property is located. This fosters trust and confidence in the insurer and the insurance industry as a whole.

Cost Savings: By standardizing inspection processes and leveraging economies of scale, insurers can reduce costs associated with risk assessment. This cost efficiency can ultimately translate into more competitive premiums for policyholders.

Summary

Insurance inspection national coverage marks a significant milestone in the evolution of the insurance industry. By unifying risk assessment processes across borders, it enhances efficiency, accuracy, and fairness in underwriting decisions. Insurers can now rely on standardized inspection protocols to make more informed decisions, while policyholders benefit from a more consistent and transparent insurance experience. As the industry continues to embrace national coverage, it promises to redefine the way risks are evaluated and insurance policies are crafted, ultimately leading to a more resilient and customer-centric insurance landscape.

3.5

#insurance inspection national coverage #insurance services #loss control inspection

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months ago

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In the shower after Nikolai dominates Price in the ring. Here is Part 1.

cw: dom Nik and sub Price, choking (properly this time), frotting, handjob, brief oral, captain’s first subspace; there are no safe words here nor clear cut negotiation. It’s as messy as the two men involved. @jgvfhl has been waiting patiently, so cheers, bud! (Also @aprilplage and @27potatochips were interested? Apologies if not.)

Price stood under the hot shower with his hands on the cool tiles and his head bowed. He tried to focus on the sensation of the water running over his skin, the faint smell of bleach that lingered in the air, the thrum of the old boiler working over time, anything to ground him. His prick ached, standing erect and untouched, and he stared at it with lidded eyes, the flushed skin blurred through the steam and droplets of water on his lashes.

He's never felt like this before. It was like he was floating just outside his body, and yet, somehow, every part of him was sensitive, primed. The world had soft edges, muted almost, but he could tune into a single droplet of water tracking down his spine. He knew it was connected to what had happened in the ring - had felt it descending while he knelt at Nik’s feet - but it was… alien. He felt vulnerable, like he was balancing on a precipice and he could tumble over if he lost focus for even a second, and it… it fucking frightened him, and Price wasn’t accustomed to fear.

This was a bloody nightmare. How could he want such things? Why did the thought of such a violent loss of control not make him balk? He was an officer, decorated, meant to be the best, this was a fuckin’ disgrace, this–

A large shadow loomed behind him. He felt its presence before he heard the footfalls of the man it belonged to splash into the pools of water around the drain, scent gathering in the whirls of steam around his face. He didn't turn - couldn't turn - to reveal his predicament, but that didn't matter. The shadow came to him, a big hand settling cautiously on his hip, Nik's musky cologne distinct to Price’s sensitive nose.

Price didn't pull away. Nik's fingertips sent sparks skittering over his skin, and Price dropped his chin to inspect those weatherbeaten fingers as they gently traced a small scar that curled over his hip bone. In that moment, they were the center of his entire universe.

“Tell me no,” Nik said in a low timber that shot straight to Price's groin. The word should have fallen out of his mouth easily, and he knew Nik would respect it. But Price said nothing, his head bowing further between his shoulders as Nik stepped closer. That hand drifted to Price’s stomach, nails raking through the soft trail of hair around his belly button just as warm lips pressed to slant of muscle sweeping down from Price’s neck. “Tell me no, John.”

There was still a tiny distance between Nik’s body and his. Price could feel the brush of damp hair against his back, knowing Nikolai’s impressive chest pinned him made his mouth water, the whisper of something big against the curves of his arse, and every muscle fiber, every inch of skin, tingled with the need to feel it all. At first, he resisted, holding fast, his fingers curling into his palms. Nik didn't push, only stroked that small area just below where his belt should sit; intimate, never easily accessed, and Price thought he might crack in half if he didn't feel the whole of Nik against him in the next thirty seconds.

Price pressed his knuckles into the tiles and arched his body back a little further, moaning softly when he met the resistance of Nik’s body; the immovable bulwark that had forced Price to the ground and ripped his control away, arm at his throat, strong legs pinning his hips. Nik flattened the hand on Price’s belly and held him there, the thick heft of his cock against the cleft of Price's backside, unashamed of his arousal. He opened his mouth to suck a deeper kiss into Price's neck, and stroked up Price’s torso to cup his chest. “I know what you need,” Nik whispered against Price's skin, “but you need to be good for me. You need to relax.”

Price was pulled taut, his back rigid, his arms firm. A gulf yawned out before him and Nik was asking him to fall into it, trusting that his arms would be there to catch him. Price let out a shaky breath, his chest burning from where he'd been holding it, and slowly tilted his head back to Nik's shoulder. The water hit his face and his eyes blinked furiously into the spray, resisting the urge to close because that was the next step, wasn't it? Closing his eyes surrendered his link to the world to Nik’s care.

Nik turned his face into the bristles of Price's beard and nuzzled with a contented hum. He stroked a nipple between finger and thumb, a soft touch that still made it harden with pleasure, sending sparks through Price’s chest, his knees shaking. “Ty kraséevyi…” Nik murmured breathlessly, relishing the responsiveness of Price's body to his touch. “So eager.”

“Nik, please.” Price didn't mean for it to sound like a sob, but it did and he clenched his teeth with the shame of it, his quivering cock no less desperate as it curved upwards, drooling.

Nik followed the contour of Price’s chest and collarbone to his throat, teasing his bobbing Adam's apple before his palm flattened. His thumb and fingers pressed into the soft skin beneath the hinge of Price’s jaw and squeezed. Price let out a soft, choked moan, his eyes rolling back as his body throbbed with relief and euphoria.

It wasn’t the same chokehold as on the mat, a ruthless crushing of the windpipe to cause as much damage as possible, but he still felt the soreness there and it only added to the descent. If his mind had been clear Price might have identified the reason for the lightheadedness, the rush, as a restriction of his carotid artery, but all he could think about was how easily Nik could snap his neck. How little effort it would take for that huge palm to clamp down and Price's consciousness - his life - to slip away if Nik willed it. He had worked with Nik for so many years, knew what he was capable of, and the sick thrill of it made Price feel weak.

“Beautiful,” Nik repeated in English this time, his voice deep and husky at Price's ear, “the way you want to give yourself to me like this.”

Price growled. Or tried to. It started deep in his chest and ended in a choked gasp as Nik tightened his grip on his throat enough to make stars glitter behind his eyelids. Putting him squarely back in his place. The noise that punched out his chest was more snarl than moan, but Nik sounded delighted. “Or do you wish to fight me again? You want me to take ownership of you, tame you like an animal, captain?”

The hand that had steadied Price at his belly now slid lower, over his thigh and then up the inside to cup his sac in the seat of his palm. Price felt more vulnerable like this, Nik’s big hands cradling the most vulnerable parts of him, than if he had a gun pressed to his temple. His limbs were glued in place, rigid with obedience and desperation, paralysed by Nik’s touch and the silky rumble of his voice.

“But I think you would prefer me to take, no?” Nik licked and bit at Price’s ear, then trailed down the edge of his jaw through his beard. Price's fingers gripped at the tiles, nails digging into the grout, meek little noises escaping his throat as his prick drooled precum over the back of Nik’s wrist. Nik played with his balls, squeezing, tugging, and then let them slide along the top of his thick shaft as he slid it between Price's thighs. “Legs together, captain.”

Price did as he was told. Limbs that had been leaden suddenly inspired into action by Nik's command. He clamped around the hard length of Nik’s cock, the velvet soft skin of it bloody beautiful against his inner thighs. Nik groaned, nuzzling his face into Price's wet hair as he rocked back and forth, shifting his prick only a few inches at a time. “Mm, ya vsyu zhizn' zhdala tebya…”

“Nik, fuck… N-Ni–ah…” Price felt the pressure against his taint, nudging beneath his balls, and then Nik’s big palm wrapped his cock, stroking in time with the slow roll of his hips. The friction walked the fine line of too much, but this wasn't entirely about pleasure. It was about ownership, just like Nik had promised. Nik was using Price's body as he wanted, choking it, restraining it, pleasuring it and taking pleasure from it. Price had no choice but to obey.

“I know you want more,” Nik said, his voice thick and low with lust. “But I will use your hole in private, where I can… mm, where I can take my time with you, where.. ahh, good boy… where no one can interrupt.”

Price panted, whimpered, subdued by the large hand at his throat, intoxicated by the power of Nik’s body rutting against him, his mind unable to focus on anything but the blind obedience demanded of him.

If he lifted his hands from the tiles he lost his one anchor to the world, he threw himself purely to Nik’s mercy, to keep him standing, to hold his body as he used it. Nik’s fist moved faster, thumb sweeping the precum from Price’s slit, squeezing on the upstroke with every slap of his hips against Price’s backside. Nik bit marks into his shoulder through low moans, and listening to Nik grow increasingly erratic, losing himself in dominating Price’s body, threatened to throw Price over the brink. “John, you’re so… good, ya mechtayu o tvoyem tele… mm, ah… hochyu tebya… yebanyi, ah!”

Nik pulled away and spun Price, pushing his back to the wall with a hand returning to his throat, their lips crushing together in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and a burning passion that stung. The fingers that had teased Price’s cock now took one of his wrists, pinning it to the cool tiles and then sliding up until they intertwined with Price’s. “Is this what you want—what you need, solnyshko?” Nik whispered into the bristles of Price’s beard, biting gently at the line of his jaw.

Price couldn’t speak. Words seemed impossible. Instead, he squeezed the hand in his and rolled his hips into Nik’s, tilting his head to capture Nik’s lips, his mouth yielding to the tongue that licked into it immediately. The hard line of Nik’s body trapping him to the wall, the feel of his thighs, the pelt of hair down his torso that Price was going to bury his face in later rubbing into his skin, slick with water and precum, the bite of Nik’s teeth in his throat, in the meat of his shoulder, it built to a dizzying, overwhelming crescendo. Price finally cried out, his knees giving way as his cock spilled between them. Nik held him up, one arm looping around Price’s waist as his cock twitched and spent in the curve of Nik’s hip.

”So good, John… look at you, kraséevyi…”

Nik lowered Price carefully to the floor, leaving him on his knees as he rose back to his full height, taking the back of Price’s head to feed his cock into the slack mouth awaiting it. Price felt like he was floating on air, his open hands turned up on his thighs, his shoulders and back slumped, and the velvet steel of Nik’s cock on his tongue felt like a divine fucking rite.

Nik was close; his balls drawn tight, teetering on the edge, and it took only a handful of thrusts into Price’s eager mouth before he was spending down his throat. Price’s eyes rolled back at the rich, musky taste of him, choking on it even as he lapped at the underside of Nik’s glans, his eyes watering, cum spilling over his lips and down his chin.

Two strong hands slipped around his head and held it, Nik’s forehead pressed to his, and they knelt in breathless silence under the torrent of hot water together, their tryst washed away and leaving only their quivering bodies as evidence of what had happened. Price had thought he was listless before, but now he was floating outside himself, the warm buzz burrowing deep into his bones, a dreamy calm blanketing his mind where before there had been anxious unease. He was so aware of every inch of his body, and every part of Nik touching him, every kiss that Nik pressed to his face; beneath his eyes, on his cheeks, his lips, his chin. Price had never felt anything like it, had never felt as close to another person as he did now, mentally, physically... fuck, emotionally. It was difficult to clutch onto a thought. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Price didn’t remember how they got back to his room, only the warm towel wrapped around his body and the soft fleece of his joggers, followed by the familiar comfort of his bunk and Nik’s heavy body pressed close in the quiet. He lashed out a hand and Nik caught it, guiding it down to his face where he kissed it gently. “Rest, I have you.”

I have you.

And Price trusted that he did.

It was so easy to give into the heavy weight pulling him under.

Price slept heavier than he had in years, his body a deadweight against Nik’s chest, and when he surfaced the world returned in a thick fog. He saw the flickering red numbers of his alarm clock first—2200–fuck, when—had he? He had slept away the entire afternoon and evening. “Fu—ck.”

”Ahh, welcome back to the land of the living,” Nik said softly, and Price rolled over. It was difficult. The bunk was built for one man and Nik wasn’t exactly a small second. By the time Price had settled, he was so close their noses touched and his entire vision was consumed by sleepy brown eyes. “We need to talk, Jonathan.”

Price swallowed hard, his toes curling, his cheeks warming. “Yeah," he croaked, his voice raw. "Reckon we do.”

#nikprice #captain john price #cod nikolai #there’s a whole lot of heat here lads

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fortheloveofwonderland · 7 months ago

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Rusty | Chapter 11 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - Just an FYI - the fics being posted now were finished months ago. I haven't written anything for the fandom in quite a long time and at present have no drive to do so. Once Midnight and Rusty are finished posting that will be it from me for the forseeable. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Chapter Summary - Spencer pushes through another barrier on his way to recovery. But when a face from his past shows up out of the blue it threatens to destroy everything between the two of you.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - male masturbation, Spencer’s incredibly dirty thoughts, brief mention of three ways, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving) and penetrative sex (both p in v and p in a) all by way of Spencer’s imagination (Spencer is basically writing his own smut fic in his head), self inflicted wounds, talk of weight loss, swearing, arguing, yelling, tears, sad Luke, bit of a cliff hanger ending. WC - 7.6k

Chapter 11 - All My Ex's Live in Texas

The sentiment, to be able to love someone we must first learn how to love ourselves, felt oddly poignant in this moment, as Spencer stood in his bedroom, in front of the full-length mirror tucked away in his closet.

It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, he often gave himself a cursory glance before he left the lodge of a morning, giving himself a brief once over.

It also wasn’t something he made a habit of doing. He kept the mirror inside the closet for the purposes of not having to look at himself for long periods of time.

But this was for entirely therapeutic purposes.

And the idea of having to love oneself before allowing others into our heart rang true in an entirely different way.

Spencer needed to be able to engage himself physically before he could expect anyone else to do the same.

It had been four days since his trip to Doctor Ortega’s office. In those four days the two of you had participated in a string of increasingly heavier make out sessions, three of which fervent enough to yet again cause Spencer to come in his pants, but as yet had not graduated onto anything more intimate.

Yesterday the two of you had ridden your respective mares into Pipe Creek for Spencer to collect his new prescription and Doctor Ortega had caught him on his way out.

She’d taken him aside and reminded him that in order to take back control of his own body, he had to truly own it himself before he frivolously tried to hand it over to someone new.

And that’s what led him here. Standing in front of his full-length mirror, naked as the day he was born.

The only part of his body that was concealed was his casted arm, he’d even gone as far as to remove the dressings from his bicep, thigh and stomach.

The wounds were all at various stages of healing, scabbing over and starting to scar. They would all leave their marks upon his skin for the rest of his life, a constant reminder that he’d been to hell but was desperately trying to claw his way back.

He focused on them for longer than necessary, trying to distract his mind from the task at hand for as long as he possibly could. You’d gone to the grocery store with Rusty and wouldn’t be back for a while. He had time for his introspective.

He inspected each cut with a keen eye, taking note of how each brandished him, pictured what they’d look like once solid and pink against his alabaster flesh.

This was not an activity Spencer relished. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at his naked form in such a manner. It felt clinical. Yet another experiment.

Spencer liked experiments so he tried to keep that in mind as he took himself in as a whole before slowly ingesting each individual facet that made the full Spencer Reid picture.

Start at the top, work his way down. Cold, removed, distant.

Still got a good head of hair, not like William. Good hair. Thick hair. No greys. Almost forty and no greys. That’s pretty good going considering the stress I’ve been under.

Nice eyes. Friendly eyes, that’s what JJ called them. Or was it kind eyes? Nice no less. Brown with gold flecks mom always used to point out.

Bags under the eyes aren’t so nice. When did they get so purple? I look like I’ve never slept a day in my life.

Nose. Lips. Chapped lips, such dry lips. How does Y/N kiss me? Need to buy chapstick. Must remember to buy chapstick.

Need to shave. Or do I? I don’t hate the stubble, it makes me look tougher. Wonder what Y/N’s opinion on it is? Maybe I should ask her.

His eyes trailed slightly lower to his torso.

Still so skinny. Didn’t I put on weight? Where did that go? Mom always says I look like I’m not eating. Have I been eating? When did I get this skinny?

Lost weight in prison. Couldn't eat after…my mouth was always too sore. Thought I’d put it back on. Did I lose it again? How? When?

He raised his hand in absent-mindedness and ran his fingers along the visible bones of his sternum, protruding through his milky skin. He pulled a face and dropped his hand again, somewhat unamused.

His eyes briefly flitted back over the cut on his left side, garnering his attention once again before flicking to his stomach.

Definitely lost weight, but how? Hip bones are more prominent. Got one of those little v-cut muscles I was always jealous of on Luke. Did I get that from riding? It does require core strength. I’ve never noticed it before.

He continued quickly past the appendage where his attention was supposed to be, down to his legs. He’d always had strong thighs, thick thighs but they were somehow even meatier than he remembered.

Is that from riding too? Must be. Good legs, definitely not terrible legs. Sturdy. Load bearing.

I’m stalling.

He closed his eyes with a loud huff, feeling incredibly self conscious all of a sudden. Opening his eyes again he forced his gaze between his legs where his flaccid member hung in a bed of pubic hair.

And here we are, the thorn in my side. The bane of my goddamn existence. My…

…it’s not gonna get hard if you berate it.

He grit his teeth and stared almost aggressively at the length of flesh and muscle between his legs.

Masturbation should not be this difficult.

It felt forced. He wasn’t aroused, not even a little. On the occasions in his life he had turned to self pleasure, it was only because he was incredibly horny, which wasn’t a regular occurrence for him unless he was in the act itself.

He’d never just sat and thought I’m bored, maybe I could jerk one off. What was normal protocol here?

His new phone had the internet and he would probably be able to look up a porn site. But what porn? Spencer didn’t even know what kind of porn he liked.

He found both men and women attractive, where would he even begin? In an ideal world, what kind of sexual desire would…oh…oh!

He stared at his cock as it twitched very slightly, heart beat picking up at the simple thought. He kept his eyes trained downwards while he contemplated it again.

I like both men and women, I find them equally attractive. Specifically one man and one woman so what if I could have both?

Again he twitched, before his very eyes his cock started to swell. His mouth fell open, chest heaving with his breaths.

Y/N and Luke? Together? And me. All three of us. Together. Touching. Kissing. Or I could just watch, I’d be pretty happy to watch.

Again he was amazed by the sudden jerk of his shaft, swelling slowly but surely.

Oh this could work. I think this might work.

He wrapped his hand around his shaft without too much thought in case he might talk his way out of this. He was only semi-erect but the speed in which it had happened meant he could be fully aroused in no time.

He kept his eyes open, trying to force himself to watch as he started his slow strokes but his mind was wandering quickly down a sinful rabbit hole.

Standing over them while she straddles him, her bare thighs pressed against his bare thighs, taking hold of his hard cock in her hand.

Hearing Luke moan as his Adam’s apple bobs at her touch. Her beautiful, petite hand, unable to wrap all the way around his shaft. But she tries, she tries so hard. She wants to make him feel good, wants to give me a show.

Luke’s looking up at me, his eyes blown out with lust.

“Come closer, cariño, let me touch you.”

Oh how I happily oblige.

Whilst she’s stroking Luke I kneel on the bed next to them and Luke is immediately taking me in his own large hand. I moan and my head falls back against my shoulders at his touch.

He strokes me in time with her strokes on him. The sound of flesh on flesh echoing in the room. Moans and heavy breaths.

There’s another hand on my jaw, I look at her and she draws me in for a deep kiss. Her tongue explores my mouth while Luke’s hand pumps my cock.

My other hand finds her breast and I knead it beneath my fingers, pinching her hardened nipple in my hand.

Yep, that’ll do it.

He was fully erect in his hand now, stroking himself at an almost furious pace. His hand twisted and tightened, staring at his cock in his own hand in the mirror.

Laying on my back and she’s on top of me, lowering herself down, slowly, slowly. Inch by inch I watch myself disappear inside her silken walls. I can feel the way her body stretches and pulls around my hard cock.

Luke is behind her, palming her tits, kissing her neck. She’s whining, moaning because she’s so tight and I’m so big.

“How does he feel, baby?” Luke whispers against her flesh once I’m completely sheathed inside of her.

“Fuck, he feels so good.” She starts to rock back and forth on top of me, eyes staring intently down at me.

One of Luke’s hands travels downwards, to the juncture where our bodies meet. His index finger pressing against her clit.

She vibrates around me, sending shockwaves down my cock. The moan that leaves my lips is nothing short of feral.

Frantically fisting his own cock whilst imagining the pleasures of being with the both of you and his head was already leaking against hand. He swiped his thumb through it, legs buckling a little at the sensation and using his precum as lube.

He was gnawing on his lip, watching the way his cock throbbed in his hand. It was a heady sight to behold. He thought he’d be disgusted by it. Was it wrong that it turned him on more?

He looked good like this, strong, virile, dare he even say, sexy? He felt powerful as he watched his face contort in the pleasure he was bestowing upon himself. His staunch thighs shook beneath him.

His thick and heavy length pulsed against his palm.

She’s on her back, legs spread for me. I leave a trail of kisses across her soft skin but I’m in a hurry, I need to get to my final destination.

Once my face is buried between her folds, I lap up at her arousal before my tongue settles on her swollen bud. She writhes beneath me at the contact, trying to move away. But I stop her with an arm across her abdomen.

She moans and screams as I take her in my mouth, suckling on her sensitive clit. Like a man possessed I work between her legs, like she’s my favourite meal.

I can feel a heat behind me, and hands on my hips guiding me up onto my knees. I comply because I’m so wrapped up in the way she tastes on my tongue.

Then there’s something pressing into me from behind, I’m being stretched but in the best possible way.

As Luke fills me up I moan into her core, making her squirm. The sounds in the room are melting into the walls, the smell of sex is heavy in the air.

Luke thrusts into me hard and fast and I take two fingers and plunge them inside of her waiting heat while keeping my mouth on her desperate clit.

She’s rocking against my face, coating my lips and chin in her arousal as my fingers sink inside of her.

Luke is grunting as he fucks me, filling me up in a way I haven’t been filled in so long. Between my legs I can feel my cock twitching, pulsing, close to the edge without being touched.

“Oh fuck,” Spencer mumbled, legs trembling. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.”

More precum leaked from his tip, coating his hand as he thought of eating you out while Luke fucked him. His head was hazy, his breaths ragged.

“Fuck, Spence, I’m close. So close.” She screams as I plunge my fingers in and out of her and swipe my tongue over her clit.

Luke’s thrusts are growing more violent, his balls slapping against my ass.

“Make her come, Spence. You can do it, cariño.” Luke encouraged me and I pick up my speed.

Soon enough I feel her walls clenching around my fingers and she’s coming undone at my will. She’s convulsing beneath me and I know it’s all because of me.

And as I feel her coming, moaning my name, my own orgasm starts to pinch at my stomach and I know it won’t be long before I’m…

…“fuck, fuck, fuck!” Spencer screamed as he gripped the base of his shaft and started splattering streaks of his come all over the mirror.

He kept stroking himself through his orgasm, his legs undulating back and forth as he expelled himself on the reflective surface, covering his hand in his sticky seed.

He watched every small movement of his body, his quivering thighs, his leisurely strokes on his spent cock, his chest dragging up and down with each shallow breath.

His brain was foggy but his vision was exceedingly clear. He was fascinated by the way his body moved, how one small ripple in one muscle caused another to flex and so on and so forth.

The contours of his body seemed so sharp in his post orgasm haze, every pull or push, every pulse, every dilation.

He’d never looked upon himself with such startling clarity before as his shaft started to soften in his hand, it was all becoming clear.

This is my body. I can see it. I can feel it. My body belongs to me. My body doesn’t belong to anyone but me.

I am whole. I am whole.

I am Spencer Reid and I am whole.

He was so lost in his newfound captivation of his own frame, he didn’t hear you enter the lodge or call his name. He also didn’t hear the bedroom door open or your footsteps on the wooden floor.

It wasn’t until your face appeared in the reflection behind him that he registered his company.

“Uh, hi?” A smirk adorned itself on your features as you regarded him, soft cock in his hand and the distinctive come stains on the mirror.

You couldn’t stop your gaze flitting up and down his body. You’d never seen him completely naked before, uninhibited, exposed.

You tried to make a mental note of every dip and curve of his glorious body. He really was a sight to behold.

“Hi,” he replied, returning your smile.

“Everything okay here?”

He let go of his length, turned to face you. His pupils were blown out wide.

“More than okay.” He nodded.

And suddenly he advanced on you, smashing his lips against yours and not caring in the slightest that he was naked and sticky with his own come.

He grabbed at you, pawed at you hungrily. His wandering hands got you out of your clothes in no time at all and soon the two of you were falling back to the bed.

He was on top of you, kissing you with reckless abandon. He could already feel himself growing hard again between your bodies.

His tongue desperately explored your mouth as though it were the first time, he manoeuvred you both so he was on his back and you were straddling him.

He hissed as he got an unhindered sight of your breasts as you sat atop him. Needy hands wandered until they were palming them, pinching your nipples between his deft fingers until they stood to attention, not allowing himself to be impeded by his cast.

You moaned and rocked back and forth on top of him, his hard cock gliding between your folds. Spencer whined and bucked against you.

He removed his hands, letting his casted arm fall back to his side. His good hand circled around your wrist, gripping it tight and moving your hand so it hovered above his cock.

You stared at him, silently questioning him. Spencer simply nodded in response and let go of your wrist.

You sucked in a breath, cautious as you lowered your hand closer to his throbbing member. When your hand wrapped around his base he moaned in fervour.

His eyes rolled back into his skull, back arching off the bed. You slowly started to move your hand up and down around him but he was soon bucking into your hand, setting the pace for you.

His desperation was evident in the surges of his hips snapping back and forth fiercely. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes landed on you again.

He smiled up at you, the ethereal being perched on his thighs whilst working to bring him the utmost pleasure.

He was whole. He was finally beginning to feel whole.

***

It was getting late by the time the BAU finally wrapped up in Texas. Luke had agreed with Rossi that he would take one day off to visit Spencer before he joined them back at Quantico.

Given the hour, Luke intended on getting a hotel for the night in Bandera town. He drove those forty some miles north from San Antonio in his SUV, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel as he tuned into a country and western radio station.

The back seat was full of gifts and cards which Garcia had sent to the police precinct for Luke to deliver to their old friend for his birthday which was just a few days away.

Luke’s nerves flooded his body, causing his stomach to form into tight knots. The closer he got to Bandera, the more anxious he grew, palms sweating against the wheel.

He was under no illusion that Spencer would be happy to see him, especially with him showing up unannounced. But in Luke’s defence he had tried to call Spencer several times over the last few days to inform him of his visit. It wasn’t his fault Spencer didn’t answer.

It was nearing eleven pm by the time Luke arrived in Bandera and try as he might he couldn’t get himself to the hotel.

He couldn’t wait another minute. He needed to see Spencer now.

He took the turning off the main road with the directions Garcia had sent him. He drove a little ways up a dirt track until he came to a stop next to another car.

Killing the engine he frowned himself. He didn’t think Spencer had a car. He supposed he could have purchased one any time.

He slid out of the SUV, dropping to the dirt and closed the door behind him. There was a small single storey lodge a few hundred yards up on the left.

There was a light on.

Luke swallowed, smoothing out his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. His chest swelled with nerves and his legs shook a little as he started towards the lodge.

***

Spencer’s second orgasm seemed to come quicker than the first, your small, dainty hand bringing him to completion in no time at all. Chest heaving with his breaths, he immediately pulled you down by the back of your neck so he could kiss you.

He was whole. He was whole. They didn’t win.

He kissed you fiercely, his come sticky between your bodies but neither of you minded. His hand stayed on the back of your neck, pinning you to him.

“You’re amazing.” He mumbled against your lips.

“No, you’re amazing.” You replied.

You wanted to tell him you were proud of him but you didn’t want to make a big deal of it or have him think you were patronising him. Instead you continued kissing him, grinding your bodies together as you did so.

Spencer felt like every single one of his nerve endings were on fire. He was overstimulated, he could feel every thread of the sheets beneath him, feel every negligible movement of your body as it moved against his own.

It was eye opening. He’d forgotten how this was supposed to feel. Intimacy wasn’t meant to make him feel guilty, pleasure wasn’t designed to cause him pain.

He’d neglected to remember how it should feel. Two bodies coming together, becoming one. Becoming whole.

He felt as though he could well be floating, his body lighter than air. He needed more. He needed so much more. He needed everything and he needed it with you.

He gripped the back of your neck firmly, tongue roughly exploring the deepest recesses of your mouth. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room alongside soft moans and the friction of skin on skin.

And for the second time that night, Spencer didn’t hear the door to his cabin open or the heavy footsteps on his hardwood floor.

***

Worryingly, Luke found the door to Spencer’s lodge was ajar, not quite closed all the way. His hand immediately pressed against the butt of his gun in its holster, ready just in case. In his experience, nothing good came from doors being left open. Least of all way out here in the sticks.

He hesitantly pushed it open and took a step inside. The space was small and mostly full of books which didn’t surprise him at all. There were a few paper grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Nothing looked out of place or disturbed.

He let his hand fall back to his side, trying to calm his erratically beating heart. Spencer could be scatty sometimes, perhaps he’d just been in a hurry. There was nothing to panic about.

He stepped closer towards the closed door past the kitchen, for which he assumed was the bedroom. It was only as he drew closer that he started to register the sounds of heavy breathing.

His first thought was that Spencer might be having a panic attack. He’d had them a lot after prison, Luke knew all too well what they looked like. Perhaps he’d started to have one when he arrived home with groceries, it would explain why the door wasn’t closed properly and why the bags were still on the counter.

Another wave of unease washed over him and he quickly pushed open the door without a second thought.

The two bodies on the bed came into view and Luke felt as though the whole world came crumbling down around him in a single second. The body on top with their back to him was definitely female. The body beneath, laying on the bed was obscured from view but Luke would recognise those soft moans anywhere.

“Wow,” he croaked out the single word as tears flooded his vision.

Spencer suddenly sat up in bed, glaring at Luke over your shoulder. His mouth fell open, eyes wide in shock at the ghost standing in his doorway.

“L-Luke?” He stuttered.

“Luke?” You hissed without looking over your shoulder. “As in…?”

“Hmm.” Spencer nodded.

You were still in his lap, trying to hide your naked frame against Spencer’s. You needed to leave. You couldn’t be part of this. You swung yourself off of the bed and in one swift move sprinted to the bathroom before you could give this stranger an eyeful.

You’d left Spencer exposed and he quickly pulled the sheet around his body despite the fact Luke had seen him naked hundreds of times before. He hadn’t seen this version of him though, the one with the cuts and scabs from self abuse. He stared at Luke and Luke and him. Seconds seemed like hours.

He noticed Luke’s gaze flicker down to his arm and his brows pinched together.

“What happened to your arm?” Luke asked in concern.

Spencer didn’t know whether he meant the cast or the cut on his bicep but he didn’t ask.

“Riding accident.” Spencer clenched his jaw. “What are you…why are you here?”

“We were in town for a case. I tried to call, you didn’t answer. The door was open and I thought something might have happened to you.” The hurt in Luke’s voice was palpable and Spencer felt a little guilty that he’d had to walk into this.

“Uh, lemme get dressed okay? I’ll meet you outside?” Spencer chewed on the tip of his tongue, half thinking his overstimulated brain was imagining the man in front of him.

Had he given over so entirely to his fantasy that it had begun to feel real? Was this all part of his vivid speculation? Was he in fact still masturbating in front of his mirror?

No, it was all too real. The sadness in Luke’s eyes, the way his shoulders slumped with the weight of seeing his ex in bed with someone else. The way you’d so hurriedly scampered off to the bathroom.

This was real life, even if it did feel like a nightmare.

Luke nodded stiffly and turned about on his heels. Spencer watched his retreating form pad out of the bedroom and close the door behind him.

Spencer got to his feet and started gathering up his clothes from the floor. He tapped on the bathroom door as he was fighting with his boxers.

“Are you okay?” He called when he got no answer.

“Your ex is here, what do you think!” You hissed in response.

“I had no idea he was coming here, Y/N. I didn’t invite him.” He was stuffing his legs back in his jeans, trying to ignore the way the fabric scratched his open wounds.

“What the hell is he doing here then?”

“I don’t know! I have no idea.” He grabbed his t-shirt whilst still working on the button of his jeans. “I need to deal with this, hopefully I won’t be long.”

“Okay.” You whispered, hearing his footsteps head away from the door.

He pulled the t-shirt down over his torso as he swung open the bedroom door. Through the window in the front door he could see Luke pacing the length of his porch.

Spencer exhaled, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it from his previous activities. He swallowed around his dry tongue and stepped towards the door.

A frigid burst of air hit him as he stepped outside, joining Luke on the porch. Luke stopped in his tracks and glanced at Spencer. Even in the darkness he could see the tears in Luke’s eyes.

“So, you’ve moved on, huh?” Luke folded his arms across his chest.

“It’s been two years, what did you expect?” Spencer shrugged.

He hated that even after all this time Luke could still cause all the air to leave his lungs. He looked much the same as Spencer remembered in his mind's eye that last time he saw him. He had an extra few creases around his eyes, a few more greys peppering his hairline, but otherwise he remained unchanged.

“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot.” He choked back a sob. “So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?”

“You think I’m healed?” Spencer’s voice raised a little. “You think I’ve worked through my trauma?”

“It looks that way to me. I seem to remember the last time I tried to get you into that position you pinned my arm behind my back!” Luke spat.

“You have no idea what this is like for me.” Spencer shook his head angrily. “She is the first person I have been able to get close to and even still I’m terrified I’m only one second away from breaking down at all times. It’s been four years and this is the closest I’ve come to moving past what happened to me but I am by no means suddenly shiny and new. I haven’t had sex with her, is that what you want to hear? At this point I’m not even sure I can!

“You can’t just show up here after two years and think you know what I’m going through. I have to take medication every day just so I am not completely crippled by my trauma. I blackout when the stress gets too much, I dissociate because my mind can’t handle the pain. Don’t come here and assume you know what I’m going through. You have no idea.”

In the bathroom you heard raised voices outside and worried about Spencer’s rising anger and what could happen if he let it get out of control. You snuck back out and found your clothes, quickly redressing and creeping into the living room.

From the kitchen you could see them through the glass pane in the front door without them being able to see you were watching. You told yourself you weren’t eavesdropping, you just wanted to be ready in case Spencer needed grounding.

You tucked yourself away in the corner, eyes on the side of Luke’s face. You felt that swell of familiarity again that you couldn’t place. Your fingers kneaded your achy jaw as you listened.

“You were supposed to come back! I gave you time, I gave you space. I thought if I did those things you would come back and we would be okay again.” Luke rubbed his eyes to try and stem his tears.

“That’s not my fault, Luke. I didn’t ever give you a reason to believe that would be the case. I’m sorry I left without telling you, I know I should have said goodbye. But I can’t change that. This is my life now, I have no intentions of coming back to DC. I’m sorry if you thought that I would, but I never gave any indication that I would.” Spencer rubbed his hand on his jeans, focusing on the rough texture.

He needed to stay tethered, he couldn’t let the anger bubble and cause his mind to detach.

“Did you love me?” Luke’s voice pitched. “Did you ever really love me like you said you did?”

You knew that voice, you were sure of it. You just couldn’t place it.

“How can you even ask me that?” Spencer softened. “Of course I did.”

“But it was easier for you to run away than try and make things work with the man you supposedly loved?” Luke exhaled.

“I had to leave. After everything that happened, after Merva, it was just too much. I needed to get away from DC, away from it all.” Spencer sniffed loudly.

“You could have talked to me instead of running away, Spencer. It’s what I was there for. But you never talked to me.”

“I couldn’t talk to you, Luke. I couldn’t talk to anyone. I just wanted to forget.” Spencer’s eyes filled with tears and he rubbed his palm roughly against his thigh, focused on the material of his jeans.

“You know I know what happened right?” Luke shrugged. “I know what happened to you in prison. I read the medical reports.”

Spencer froze. His rampant rubbing of his thigh stopped, he felt like his breathing stopped. He glared at Luke while he processed his words.

He’d read the report. He’d known all along.

Inside your brows pinched together. Prison? Spencer was in prison? Surely you must have the wrong end of the stick? Spencer did not seem like the type. There must be something you were missing.

“You…how could you?” Spencer croaked. “How could you do that to me?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me. I was worried about you.”

“Worried? You were worried? So you invaded my privacy? Those reports were not your concern Luke! I figured Prentiss would have to see them but you…I can’t believe you would do that to me.” Spencer’s voice raised again and felt the anger in his stomach.

Deep breaths, take deep, calming breaths. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. Feel something beneath your hand, ground yourself. This will be okay. One, two, three, four, five.

“Maybe if you’d talked to me I wouldn’t have felt the need to.” Luke didn’t know why he was trying to justify himself, he knew what he’d done was wrong. “How did you ever get cleared to come back to work? You were clearly struggling.”

“Oh please, we wrote those questions. You think after fifteen years of profiling I didn’t know the right things to say to the bureau shrink so she would reinstate me?” Spencer clucked.

“Did you ever tell her you were ra-”

“Don’t you dare you say it.” Spencer cut him off. “Don’t you dare.”

Your head was spinning with the new information. Prison. Profiling. Bureau? What did this all mean? Your cell phone was on the counter next to the bags and you reached for it before hiding back in your corner. The arguing continued outside while you brought up a Google search.

Spencer Reid + bureau

Within less than a second, hundreds of search results popped up on the little screen, articles upon articles. You quickly skim read some of the search results as your hand shook around the device.

The youngest academy graduate recruited to the FBI’s illustrious Behavioral Analysis Unit, twenty two year old Doctor Spencer Reid…

With his three PhD’s, and IQ of 187, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid was hand picked by BAU founder Jason Gideon…

After a high speed chase in Mexico the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit are on the scene. It’s thought that a member of the team is involved…

BAU Member SSA Doctor Spencer Reid acquitted of charges against him…

Hostage situation involving two members of the BAU…no further information is known at this time…

Your head swam. Your stomach lurched. This couldn’t be true, yet it was here in black and white.

You were sleeping with the enemy. The sweet, kind cowboy you’d rescued from the desert was a former FBI Agent.

Three PhD’s? An IQ of 187? Doctor?

What the fuck was going on? You knew there were things he hadn’t told you but did you know him at all? And what led to an FBI agent going to prison? And what happened to him in prison that Luke had ascertained from his medical records?

You felt dizzy. You pushed yourself back up against the wall so you wouldn’t collapse. Luke’s raised voice brought you back around.

“You could have told me! I would have understood, I could have helped!”

“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?” Spencer yelled back.

“She seemed to be doing a fine job.” Luke scoffed, nodding his head towards the door.

“Goddamnit, would you let that go?”

“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!” Luke threw his arms up into the air.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger, okay? I’m sorry I pushed you away. But I am finally starting to move past what happened to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you but Y/N is…she makes me feel like I can heal. And I need that Luke, I need to heal.” Spencer sniffed again, feeling his tears dangerously close to falling.

Luke didn’t appear to be listening though, his brows pinched together as he rolled something over in his mind.

“Did you say Y/N?” He rubbed the side of his neck.

Your back went rigid. Hearing him say your name dislodged something distant in the back of your mind.

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“Yeah, why?” Spencer’s voice broke through your memory.

“I…I’m not sure.” Luke looked deep in thought. “Can I…? One sec.”

Spencer watched in confusion as Luke turned and headed down the stairs towards his SUV. He wrapped his good arm around himself in protection and to stave off the cold night.

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.”

“Can you take a closer look at her photo ma’am? Your neighbour seems to think she’s been staying here.”

“Again, I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.”

“Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“You got a warrant?”

“No…”

“Then get the hell off of my property.”

Magnolia Springs, Alabama. Mrs Royce, the kindly old woman for whom your mother had been best friends with all throughout childhood. She’d offered you a place to stay after you escaped custody. That was until her nosy neighbour recognised you from the wanted posters.

You’d buried your mom’s money under a tree in the wooded area behind her house and watched from a distance as two FBI Agents had come to her home to question her. Even though she hadn’t seen your mother in more years than she could count, Mrs Royce was fiercely loyal, and hadn't said a word.

You hadn’t had a great vantage point for which to see the agents, only caught small glimpses of them from where you hid in the back of the house. But they’d introduced themselves as -

- Agents Phil Brooks and Luke Alvez.

Luke was hurrying back from his car with a manilla folder and Spencer stayed stock still while he awaited him. Luke opened the folder and pulled out a sheet of paper which he proffered to Spencer as soon as he was close enough.

“What is this?” Spencer frowned at the paper.

“Is this the woman? I only saw her from the back. She coulda changed her hair? Is this her?” Luke jabbed a finger at the photograph in the corner of the page. “She escaped from a max security facility a few weeks ago. Phil called me.”

To Spencer’s credit, no matter how many years it had been since he’d needed to to use his poker face, he was still an expert at it. His expression didn’t even so much as flinch as he looked at the photograph of you on Luke’s printout.

He was right, you had changed your hair. But it was without a doubt you looking back at him from that mugshot. He glanced away, back at Luke and shook his head.

“No.” He lied. “I’ve never seen this woman before.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny, watching for any little twitch, any tiny hint that Spencer was keeping something from him. But the truth was, even though they had dated and Luke thought he knew Spencer better than anyone, he never could read Spencer.

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spencer? Because this woman is dangerous, and if you’re lying to me, that’s harbouring a fugitive. I don’t need to tell you that comes with a prison sentence.” Luke observed again.

Even at the mention of prison, Spencer’s features didn’t change.

“I’m telling you Luke, I don’t know this woman.” He waved the paper in front of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

Your own brows pinched together. You peered out the window to see the paper in Spencer’s hand but it was too dark to see exactly what was on it. But you were certain he would know it was you in the photograph. So why was he lying?

“Right, I’m just being paranoid I guess.” Luke huffed, snatching the paper back from Spencer.

“I think you should go Luke, it's late and you shouldn’t have come here.” Spencer returned his arm to its position wrapped around him.

“I’m staying down the road for the night. Maybe we can meet tomorrow for coffee or something?” Luke tucked the file under his arm.

“No,” Spencer shook his head. “I don’t want this Luke. I moved out here for a reason, to get away from my life in DC. To get away from…from…”

“From me?” Luke croaked.

“From everyone.” Spencer corrected him. “You will always have a place in my heart, Luke. I did love you but I’m not the same man I was when we started dating and I’m never going to be him again. You have to let me go, Luke, please? Please just let me go.”

Luke wanted to argue, he wanted to argue with every fibre of his being. He didn’t drive all the way out here to have it end like this.

But Spencer’s sad eyes and downturned lips forced him to bite his tongue. Spencer had been through an immeasurable amount of trauma and he was just trying to make it through to the otherside. Luke couldn't help him, he tried, but he’d failed. Perhaps the best thing for Spencer’s wellbeing was for Luke to walk away, to let him go once for and for all.

Luke huffed a breath out through his nose and took a few steps backwards. He navigated the steps whilst never taking his eyes off of Spencer.

“I wish it could have been different.” Luke’s first tear fell and he didn’t try to hide it. “You were the love of my life.”

“I know.” Spencer scrunched his face up as he felt his own tears ready to escape.

“But I wasn’t yours.” Luke spoke for him with a weak shrug of his shoulders. “I want you to be happy, Spencer, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just promise me you’ll check in? I’m not asking for daily phone calls or anything like that but please stop ignoring me when I reach out. I’d really like to still be a part of your life even if only in a small capacity.”

“That, uh, sounds reasonable.” Spencer nodded.

“And call Penelope more. She worries about you more than anyone.” Luke shrugged, still walking backwards toward the SUV.

“I will.” He nodded, swallowed thickly. But he was sure if you were who he now knew you to be, he’d never be able to talk to any of his old team ever again.

He felt overcome with discomfort. The goodbye he’d avoided two years ago now here at his feet. Spencer didn’t like goodbyes, it was why he’d left without them the first time.

Goodbyes were endings. Full stops. The closing of a book. Spencer had wanted to keep the story open, unfinished, just in case he ever had the impetus to write that final chapter. But it had been penned for him. Luke had snatched the metaphorical pen from his hand by coming here and effectively completed their story.

“Uh, goodbye then I guess.” Luke shrugged as he reached the car.

“G-goodbye, Luke.” Spencer whispered.

The book slammed shut. Or perhaps it was the car door. Either way, Spencer Reid and Luke Alvez’s story had come to its bitter end.

He stood on the porch and watched as Luke started the engine before putting the vehicle in reverse. He continued to observe as the headlights cast an eerie glow on his land as the SUV turned around. He still just stood there as Luke’s car took to the dirt track back to the main road and soon vanished from sight.

He huffed out a breath, rubbed his eyes to disperse the tears before turning to the door and practically throwing it open. He marched inside and found you in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed up against the wall. You’d been listening, of course you had.

Spencer stayed on his side of the kitchen counter, worried what he might do if he came too close to you. He needed the barrier between you. He slammed his good hand on the counter top but you didn’t even flinch. His eyes were manic as they looked at you, large and wild. His chest was heaving erratically.

He opened his mouth several times to speak but the words kept getting stuck in his dry throat. Minutes of painful silence stretched between you while you kept your eyes on each other.

Eventually Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw set in a tight line when he finally spoke.

“Who the fuck are you?” He spat the words like venom on his tongue.

You straightened yourself, squared your shoulders as if it might somehow intimidate him. When you spoke it was with equal malevolence.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid.”

More silence followed, reaching out into the sparse caverns that gorged their way between you. The wicked talons of the unspoken words weaved around you, wrapping you both in their icy clutches.

You were both acutely aware that whatever conversation was about to transpire between you would inevitably make or break this fledgling relationship. You were no longer who you had been just hours before. A lonely cowboy and a weary traveller no more. All that remained was an FBI Agent and a Fugitive.

It seemed inescapable that this could only end in one of two ways -

Either he called the cops on you and you were thrown back in prison, having the key thrown away and left to rot for the rest of your life behind bars. Or one of you would wind up dead.

And you were not going back to prison.

@kalulakunundrum @small-and-violent @voledart @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @mavellover1819 @babyspiderling

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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maniiaccs · 3 months ago

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Safety

Hii! This is my first fic here, I hope all of you enjoy it, sorry if the end feels a bit rushed or OC for Aaron, if you have any advice I will be more than happy to read it. Hope you like it!

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

(˖𓍢ִ໋🦢+⊹𐙚)

Tw:Deprecating mental health.

Aaron Hotchner finds himself at his lowest after his divorce, and after months of seeing the same therapist, he can't help but wonder if he ever felt so safe with someone else.

Word count: 2445

He knew exactly when it all went down. The day he stopped being a great boss and agent to become an aggressive and somber shell of whom he used to be. The neat and hardworking persona he put on at work became a disheveled and unapproachable figure that preferred to be alone at all times, snapping at little things that normally would've made him laugh.

He didn't feel like Aaron Hotchner anymore, he just felt like a failure, he failed as a husband, he failed as a boss, and most importantly he failed as a father. When Haley finally decided to divorce him he understood her, after all who would want a stranger as a husband; he wasn't a stranger when they met, and he wasn't a stranger when they got married; he knew Haley used to love him, she used to love the Aaron she knew, but the man she was married to nowadays wasn't someone she recognized.

But she wasn't the only one that felt that way, his colleagues couldn't comprehend his eyes anymore, they were profiles, they were aware that Aaron was gone, and Haley took him with her the day the divorce papers were sent to his office.

Jason felt bad for his long time friend, he knew what loss felt like, but seeing the someone you love building a new life without you in it?, he couldn't relate to that, but he could bet on the fact that it could be more painful to deal with, after all when someone dies you can rely on the fact that their last memories were with you, but when they live? You just become a part of them, an afterthought that maybe comes back sometimes but gets pushed away by their new special one.

Jason also knew that he couldn't be in the team anymore, his happiness also long gone. But he wanted to give his friend a last piece of advice.

-"You're not fooling anyone Aaron"

-"I'm not trying to-"

-"Stop; as your friend, I beg you to let me help you Aaron. I'm sorry, but I won't be here pretty soon, I don't want to leave you alone in this moment, but I also need to find myself again, the difference between you and me is that I know how I'm going to do it, you don't, and maybe, just maybe, talking with someone will help you" as he finished talking he gave Aaron a white card with a business number on it. And on closer inspection, he realized that it was a therapist number.

-"I won't do it. Good luck finding yourself Gideon, I wish you the best."

As he looked at the card in his hands he couldn't help but remember his friend, whom he was so cold with the last time they talked with each other; he regretted it, honestly, he regretted a lot of things he did since he lost control of his life, and he was sorry for all of it, so, to apologize to his friend in a way, he decided to go to the therapist he recommended him. It was a late decision, and he was aware, but better late than never, or at least that's what he told himself as he entered the small but cozy studio apartment used as an office, his profiler brain quickly went to analyze all the little things that were neatly placed in the office. From the dark green rug under his feet, to the small drawing the therapist had inside the front pocket of her jeans.

-"Welcome Aaron, my name is ____, I'm happy that you trust me enough to be here with me today."

She sent a reassuring smile his way, but he didn't find any strength in his to give her one back, merely nodding her way and loosening his tie the moment he started feeling the walls of the apartment closing in on him. He felt like a kid once again, when he would go to the therapist by his school request for being a problematic kid. Maybe that's why he was loosing his breath, or why his hands were shaking, he felt pathetic, an FBI agent on a therapist office, what a disgrace. He could practically hear Strauss firing him in this moment, what was he going to tell the team?, that he was, indeed, a failure with everything he did?, that he was going crazy?, that he's been in such a dark place mentally that he couldn't even look at himself in the mirror without hating what he saw in the reflection?, or maybe that the thought of sharing his self-deprecating thoughts with someone gave him panic attacks?. Oh god, he felt like he was going to vomit, was his vision clouding because he was going to faint?, no, he was going to cry, in front of a complete stranger, would she tell his superiors?. His thoughts never ending, giving him a migraine, his chest heaving with every sharp breath he took.

-"Aaron?"

She looked at him, concern clouding her expression as the man in front of her started having a panic attack in her office, he looked like he was completely lost in his mind, just like a kid would be if their emotions were too much to process for their tiny and naive brain. He looked exactly like that, like his emotions were taking a toll on him, as if he couldn't comprehend them, or maybe he could but didn't know how to come to terms with them.

-"Hey... It's okay, I know it hurts, you have to let it all out, maybe not today, or tomorrow, but we can start together, okay? You're not alone in this, Aaron, I'm here with you right now."

She took his hands in hers, giving his brain a new stimulus to focus on, placing one of them on her chest to give him instructions on his breathing, her voice soft and slow, making sure that he had the time to understand everything she was saying, now that she was crouched to his level she could see the way tears flowed from his brown eyes, it was like his body was finally freeing itself from months, or even years, of untended emotions, he was finally letting himself go, but it clearly was way too late for it not to be painful. So much time of putting himself last in his priority list, of giving everyone else everything that he had and not leaving any support for his own self. Every selfless action pulling him deeper into an abyss of darkness until he reached the bottom; and it was clear to her that the bottom was reached a long time ago.

-"Come on, let it all out, you deserve it."

Aaron could swear that in that moment he could see himself as a kid, but nor like he did when the panic attack started, no, it was different now. He felt, comforted? No, that isn't the word he's looking for. He felt safe. That's it, safe.

After that day Aaron felt like the weight of years of unresolved emotions came off of his shoulders, he couldn't thank her enough, for that day an those that came after, every week he went back to that office, no, he went back to her, to her safety, it wasn't an easy process, nor a quick one; it took time, patience and understanding to finally be able to find himself again. Now when he looked at himself in the mirror he could see Aaron, he saw himself, or a better version of himself. He could finally talk with Haley without feeling like his entire world was falling apart. Therapy made him realize that their relationship had been broken long before the divorce, but the fear of loosing what he knew was stronger that the lack of love he had for his wife.

He could also look at his team in the eyes, lead them like he used to, the connection that they had before became even stronger. The fundamental pillars in his life weren't broken anymore, he finally fixed the structure that was his mind, using the support around him to help him lift the weight of his problems instead of doing it all by himself.

Nowadays he was able to say that he was happy.

And for that he thanked the person in front of him, ____.

-"I'm so happy that your life is finally yours."

He smiled at her words; she was right, he was finally the owner of his life, he took the decisions that were best for him without apologizing to anyone. But one of the things that he realized once everything became clear in his mind was that the feelings that he had towards her weren't just professional, or fond, they went way further than that. He liked her, a lot, everytime he talked with her for the last few months he could feel his heart racing, but this time instead of panic it was pure and utter affection. He couldn't dare to call his feelings for her "love", that was one of the things he was afraid of nowadays, her rejection. The mere thought of her rejecting him made sick; but he knew that realistically their relationship was almost impossible, after all he was just one of her many patients, even if he felt special he was just another client for her and he had to come to terms with that.

-"I have to thank you for that, you gave me all the keys to help me be the best version of myself, thank you, really."

-"Oh please, I only gave you the advice, you helped yourself Aaron, if you want to thank someone, thank yourself."

With a smile on her face she thought about the months they spent working together, the memories she made with Aaron were one of the best she had; it had been so long since she felt such a strong urge to help someone that sometimes it even surprised her. As someone whose job was learning to accept their emotions and confront them in a healthy way, she knew since the beginning that the relationship that she wanted to build with Aaron wasn't the professional one that she should want to build, but she couldn't help it, the attraction that she felt towards him wasn't only physical, while getting to know him she slowly realized just how much she enjoyed spending time with him, hearing about his day, the way that they trusted eachother... She didn't do that with her other clients, and that ashamed her, what kind of therapist did that made her? clearly a bad one. Developing feelings for a client was just shameful.

-"Honestly, with all the progress you made I think that you don't need my help anymore Aaron. You're ready to do this without me, I'm sure."

That phrase broke both of their hearts, neither of them wanted to let the other go, but ____ knew that it was for the best, she was getting attached to Aaron, no, she was getting attached to her patient, and she could loose her job for that. And even though a small part of her brain told her that it would be worth it, her logical side was stronger in her decision making, after all it was her job to be able to do that, her emotions couldn't get the best of her, she had to be the logical par of those interactions, nothing else, and with Aaron that line was crossed the first day, she couldn't let that happen again.

-"No."

His voice sounded desperate, and he was, this couldn't end like that, he thought he was ready to let her go, that he knew getting away from her was the best option. But now that it became true he couldn't help the desperation building inside of him, he needed her, but not as a therapist, he needed her in his life, and if the feeling was hopefully mutual he was willing to do anything to be with her.

-"I... I can't let you go, at least not before I say this-"

-"Aaron... Don't make this any harder that it should be, please."

-"After I tell you this you have the right to do whatever you want to do, but please, let me tell you how I feel."

after a few second without any response from her part he took that as permission.

-"I know that I shouldn't feel this way about you, trust me, I do. But there's nothing I can do about it. I've never felt like this ____, whenever we talk I stop being an FBI agent, a team boss, a stuck up man that can't feel trust. When I'm with you I'm just Aaron Hotchner, a father, a friend... a man in love. When we're together I don't feel like I have to fake anything, and to this day I'm not sure about a lot of things, and I admit that it embarrases me as a grown man. But one thing that I'm sure about is that I love you ____, and I want to know how it would feel to go out with you, to have casual days with you, even to wake up with you by my side. And... If you feel the same way... Please, just please, give us a chance to be together, I'll stop being your client, I don't need you as a therapist anymore, I just need you as ____."

His heartfelt confession brought tears to her eyes, her logical side pushed away as her emotions took the best of her, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. For the first time in years she felt like logic was stupid, if logic doesn't let her be happy with Aaron, then she's going to be the most illogical person in the world. Her heart hadn't beat so fast in her life, and the fluttering feeling in her chest could be compared to a teenage kind of love. But if life with Aaron Hotchner felt like this, she wanted all of it.

-"You're not going to be my patient anymore..."

-"I'm sorry, I shouldn't ha-"

-"You're just Aaron right now, and I'm just ____, so, if you want this could be our beginning."

Once he heard those words his body moved on his own, wanting to hold her close to him, grabbing her waist in a firm but gentle grip he brought her closer to him and kissed her lips with a passion that he didn't even know he had in him.

-"This is our beginning."

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #fem!reader #female reader #fluff #angst #cm #x reader #thomas gibson

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vortexonsaturn · 5 months ago

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The Mirror Metaphor Used In Tangled

Mirrors are an important narrative device all throughout the film, one of the first times we see a mirror on screen is when Rapunzel is a child.

We see a young Rapunzel sneaking out of her room to look at the floating lanterns, this specific mirror merely helps us understand how vain Gothel is. The mirror is reflecting back Rapunzel, and as the movie continues, a mirror reflecting Rapunzel represents a time where she is under Gothel's control.

During this scene we get our first introduction the The Mirror, the one that is primarily used for this metaphor. The Mirror shows the viewer the relationship between Gothel and Rapunzel. Here, Gothel says,

"Rapunzel, look in that mirror. You know what I see? I see a strong, confident, beautiful young lady. Oh, look, you’re here too!”

This scene is not only Gothel tearing down Rapunzel, but it gives us a direct connection between Gothel, The Mirror, and Gothel's desire to remain young forever. It shows us how Gothel views Rapunzel, how she views her only as a device to remain young, not as a daughter.

It shows us the control Gothel has over Rapunzel, as Rapunzel does not stand up for herself or even question this behavior.

In the Mother Knows Best scene The Mirror makes another appearance.

Gothel forces The Mirror in front of Rapunzel after describing all the reasons why Rapunzel can never leave the tower, after making Rapunzel feel naïve and dumb for believing she ever could survive in the real world.

The Mirror is used often to distort or only show fragments of the truth.

When Rapunzel begins to trap Flynn in the closet, The Mirror is facing away from her/the act.

The after she...secures him in...she accidentally knocks The Mirror towards her.

Following this, she finds the crown due to it's reflection in The Mirror, which she then goes to try on. She has a moment where she feels confident again, forgetting Gothel's doubts, even if it's just for a moment.

After Rapunzel has this moment, Gothel returns to the tower. This causes Rapunzel to fumble around knocking The Mirror as she hides the crown, causing The Mirror to spin around, now facing fully away from Rapunzel/the tower.

The moment is key, because this shows us Rapunzel now has a new goal. One that doesn't include Gothel's agreement. One that threatens Gothel's control.

After this, Rapunzel and Flynn escape the tower and we don't see The Mirror again until Gothel returns to find Rapunzel missing.

We see The Mirror for a brief moment, as Gothel hasn't yet realized she's lost control over Rapunzel.

When Gothel finishes inspecting the tower, The Mirror is gone.

This shows Gothel's loss of control, and the break in Gothel and Rapunzel's relationship.

In the end, after Gothel has manipulated Rapunzel back into her control, Rapunzel begins to have her realization/deja vu moment. When she realizes she is the lost princess, The Mirror reappears. Now showing a blurred reality outside of the frame.

In the final confrontation, Rapunzel rejects Gothel's attempts to touch her hair. Causing Gothel to stumble backwards, knocking over and shattering The Mirror.

Gothel and Rapunzel's relationship is broken. Gothel's control over Rapunzel is broken.

As we all know, Flynn then proceeds to use a piece of this shattered glass to cut off Rapunzel's hair. Gothel immediately begins to grow old, her death imminent.

Gothel desperately stares into the shattered remains of The Mirror, showing the shattered pieces of Gothel and Rapunzel's relationship as well as the control Gothel once had over Rapunzel.

I have more metaphors I'd love to talk about, another favorite of mine is the use of light throughout Tangled. So expect another unnecessarily long post soon!

#tangled #mother gothel #rapunzel #tangled movie #metaphor #analysis #movie analysis #disney

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nightghoul381 · 1 month ago

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It's still technically the 4th so I'm counting it ><

A Little Reminder

Prompts: Biting/Marking, Orgasm Control, Light Bondage Pairing: Sylus x Reader (Love and Deepspace) Smut | Explicit Content | NSFW | MDNI CW: see prompts plus, lots of teasing, some nipple play and fingering, PIV, creampie WC: ~2k A/N: Prompts from @natimiles, @valkyyriia, @candied-boys's Kinktober prompts and @xxsycamore's Visions of Temptation Prompts! Found here and here Thank you guys for putting together such awesome prompts!!

“Well now, Kitten, haven’t I told you that I’m the only one allowed to leave marks on you?”

Sylus’ voice sounds right behind you and you stiffen. You’re not sure how he managed to sneak up on you, especially since you were inspecting a scratch on your face in front of your mirror.

His deep chuckle rumbles in his chest as he leans down, staring at you with his signature smirk through the reflection. When his breath hits the back of your neck you can’t stop the shiver that runs through your body.

His hand moves to your face, squeezing your cheeks and turning you to face him.

Sylus leans down, licking the cut on your cheek and letting out an exasperated huff.

“What am I going to do with you,” he sighs, bending his knees and scooping you easily into his arms.

“Sylus!” You shout, squirming to be let down. As much as you love when he picks you up like you’re nothing, you had hoped you would have enough time to cover up the scratch before he would notice it.

“Sweetie!” He mocks, tossing you onto the bed and quickly crawling over you, caging you between his arms. “I warned you, didn’t I?”

His lips drop to the side of your neck, brushing the skin so lightly and sending goosebumps across your skin as he reminds you of an earlier threat. “I told you that if you let someone else mark you, I’d have to remind you who you belong to.”

His whisper is low and gravelly and you feel your heart rate pick up with excitement. His knees are planted on either side of your hips, his back arched and you feel his necklace fall forward and land against your chest as his mouth latches onto the skin of your throat.

His teeth sink in, and you let out a sharp cry of pain, but even as the pain flares up, so too does your excitement. You can only tremble in anticipation as Sylus’ lips suck deeply at your skin, letting you go with a loud pop before he sits back on his knees.

Cocking his head to the side, Sylus hums a moment before shaking his head with a sigh.

“That’s not enough for you, is it sweetie?” He murmurs, one hand moving to rest on his chin as though he’s thinking. His smirk widens behind his hand and you know he’s enjoying your flushed cheeks and the excitement that no doubt reflects in your eyes.

“I didn’t think so,” he chuckles, his fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, exposing each inch of his sculpted torso and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His body is that of a Greek god and you can’t keep your eyes from tracing the lines of his abs down, down, to the ‘V’ that disappears under his pants.

“At a loss for words, sweetie?” Sylus croons, sliding one of his hands down his chest and along his abs coming to rest on the waistband hiding the remaining view.

“Tell me what you want, kitten. Do you want me to take my shirt off? My pants? Do you want me to strip you bare and make love to you until the sun comes up?”

With each word, Sylus’ face grows closer to yours and your mouth parts in eager anticipation.

“I don’t hear any words…” he whispers, lips nearly brushing yours. Not wanting to give in to him that easily, you snap your mouth shut and glare at him.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, and instead of waiting for you to answer, Sylus moves faster than you can register. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself completely naked, arms tied to the posts on either side of the headboard.

“I hope you’re ready, Kitten. You’ve made me upset and I intend to punish you properly.” Sylus’ dark words of warning are quickly followed by his teeth latching onto the flesh of your left breast. His fingers flick teasingly against your nipples as his tongue traces over the grooves of his teeth.

“Nngh… Sylus…” you groan, desperately wanting to bury your hands in his hair only to be held back by the restraints.

“Naughty girl. Did you really think you would be able to fool me with a bit of make-up? You knew this would happen… And yet the eager look on your face tells me that perhaps that’s exactly what you wanted?”

Sylus moves to your other breast, scraping his teeth across your nipples and sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. A rumble rises in Sylus’ chest when you hook your legs around his rib cage, pulling him closer to you and gaining the sensation of his body weight on top of you.

“I don’t need to be reminded of anything. I’m not proper--” your thoughts are cut off as his mouth begins to travel down, teeth leaving indents along your stomach at regular intervals.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? You were telling me something, weren’t you? Why’d you stop?” Sylus smirks, looking up the length of your body with heavy lidded eyes.

When you begin to open your mouth, Sylus bites deeply into the flesh of your belly, chuckling darkly and not letting his eyes leave your face. Your pained, struggling expression seems to be bringing him satisfaction, a deep laugh filling your ears.

You don’t want to admit that you’re enjoying every second of this, and yet you also know that there’s no point in admitting it when Sylus already knows full well that you’re growing wetter and wetter by the second.

When he finally releases his bite, you feel his large, strong hands move to pin your thighs against the bed.

“Now. Why don’t you tell me who you belong to, sweetie, and maybe I’ll give you everything you want tonight.” Sylus growls, eyes narrowed in challenge and you find yourself at a crossroads. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you claim yourself to be his possession, and yet you also know he’ll very much so enjoy getting to leaving his marks all over your body until your skin is little more than a layer of bruises.

“Mmm, you hesitated for too long. It seems you really have forgotten who you belong to,” Sylus sighs. “I suppose you’re in for quite a long night then, Kitten. You’ve got a lot remembering to do.”

In the next moment you feel his mouth sucking deeply at the skin of your inner thighs, drawing out a long moan of desire from you that you’re unable to stifle.

His hands slide down your legs faster than his mouth and you hear the tell-tale clink of metal as he undoes his belt.

You let out a strangled cry of need when he stands up, letting his pants fall to the floor and his hand gently strokes his thick cock.

“You look beautiful covered in my marks like that.” He growls, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. You can see the possessive, animalistic desire sparking in their depths and you unconsciously spread your legs for him.

He smirks broadly. “Good girl.”

In the next moment you feel three long, thick fingers sliding into your wetness, stretching you in order to get you ready for himself.

“Oh, fuck…. Sylus…. Yes…” You groan, letting your head fall back as his fingers begin to dance within your walls, filling the room with the wet sounds of your pussy to join with the already heavy breathing.

It feels like only seconds have passed before the delicious fullness of his fingers vanishes and you crack your eyes open to see him now pumping himself with his fingers coated with your slick.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you?” He grunts, curling his hand over the tip before kneeling before you on the bed and guiding his cock deep within your walls.

The stretch is painful, but at the same time it’s exactly what you were craving, and you feel your head spinning with pleasure at the stimulation.

As soon as he’s fully buried within your walls, you feel him stop moving.

“Why did you stop?” You pant, pouting at him.

“You still haven’t told me who you belong to,” Sylus replies, matter-of-factly. The nonchalant tone of his voice makes it seem like he’s entirely unaffected by your current state and you are about to tell him off when he suddenly pulls back and then slams into you, hitting your head against the pillow resting against the headboard.

His pace is instantly brutal and feverish and you feel yourself falling further and further into the euphoric feeling. Every place his cock drags along your walls is ablaze with erotic bliss and your brain feels like it will turn to mush any second. You clench your hands in tight fists, arching up into Sylus as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Ah, ah… I didn’t say you could cum yet.” Sylus scolds, stilling his movements and leaving the rapidly building peak of your climax to begin to die down.

“Don’t stop,” you beg pitifully, even trying to rock your own hips for some friction to start building your need again.

“You know exactly how to end this little game, Kitten.” Sylus shrugs, seemingly unbothered by the lack of continued friction between your bodies. His face slowly descends in front of yours and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears as his crimson eyes hold yours captive.

“Who. Do. You. Belong. To?” He asks, punctuating each word and staring at you with a very serious expression.

Desperate now, you resign yourself to his cruel question.

“You.” You finally breathe.

“What was that, kitten? I don’t think I heard you right. What is the name of the man who owns you?” Sylus teases, rocking his hips very slowly.

“Ngh. Sylus. You own me, Sylus…” you whimper, staring into his eyes pleadingly.

“That’s right. That’s my good girl.” Sylus purrs, slamming his cock deep within you and sending stars dancing across your vision. Each powerful thrust brings with it more and more euphoric bliss and soon enough you feel yourself nearing the precipice once again.

“Look at me, sweetie,” Sylus pants, his hair dripping with sweat and you feel yourself clench around him tighter at the sight.

“Good, now cum.”

With the word cum, Sylus impales you with his cock so completely that you nearly black out as your orgasm crashes through every fiber of your being. Pure ecstasy, white bliss, absolute weightlessness. Nothing is quite enough to explain just how powerful your climax is as you convulse around his cock. The groans you hear from Sylus just egging them feeling on and extending the euphoria far longer than you imagined possible.

You feel a sharp, scratchy pain in your throat and realize you’ve been screaming Sylus’ name as he continues to fuck himself into you through everything.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetie.” He grunts, letting out a shaky breath and rocking his hips in a different way.

“I’m going to fill you up, mark you as mine inside and out.” Sylus growls, his movements soon becoming sloppy and haphazard as his cock pulses deep within you. Hot, sticky ropes of cum paint your insides and his teeth continue to decorate your outside, holding up his end of the promise.

When you both finally relent, collapsing beside each other on the bed, your right arm still tethered to the headboard, you and Sylus are both breathing heavily.

After a moment, Sylus finally breaks the silence with a question. “How did you get that scratch anyway?”

You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, too embarrassed to admit that you’d accidentally run into the door frame.

You hear him chuckle and his arm snakes around your middle, pulling you tightly against his body and you feel your tiredness actually catching up to you, mere moments passing before you're blissfully unaware of the waking world.

Taglist: (idk if you guys want to be tagged in LaDS stuff or not feel free to tell me not to tag you in it if you're not interested!) @aquagirl1978, @queengiuliettafirstlady, @razzmatash (Just because fellow Sylus appreciation >uO)

#love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads smut #lads sylus smut #smut #nsft #mdni #visions of temptation #kinktober

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anama-cara · 11 months ago

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Bargaining

dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Bargaining Masterlist

Summary: You try to bargain your virginity for your family’s safety. Word count: 1.8k

Warnings for full fic: 18 + mdni , Dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe p in v, mentions of STDs, pet names, dark, age gap, survivalism, I do Not condone this. Reader is in her early 20’s, Joel is in his 40’s. Reader’s inner thoughts are in italics. This is my first fic, please give feedback.

“Wait. I can give you something else. My virginity.”

He raises an eyebrow.

---

Joel Miller, the infamous raider, stands before you. He and his band of men control these parts, and they provide “protection” from clickers and other raiders in exchange for a monthly payment. Your household (its just you and your younger brother) usually give them a large basket full of vegetables. But this month something, maybe a gopher or a deer, tore up your garden, eating everything. You had nothing else to give. When Joel’s men had broken down your door you begged them, told them you’d give them double next month. They threatened to take your brother instead, put him to work. And then Joel strode through the front door, filing the doorway with his large form. He wore a red flannel, thick tan leather jacket, heavy boots and tight jeans with his knee cocked out and his hands on his hips.

“What’s taking so long in here? There trouble?” He asked his men. They nodded to you and Joel’s gaze shifted to you. An intense gaze, one that made your knees weak and your chin tremble. You swallowed and pulled yourself together.

“I’m sorry, an animal destroyed our crops. We can forage and plant again. I promise next month we will pay double.”

He shook his head sadly and your stomach dropped.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t go around making exceptions, even for someone as pretty as you.”

One of his men stepped forward and made to grab your brother’s arm. Pretty? Maybe there was another way.

“Wait. I am still a virgin. I’m unused. I have no diseases, which is good because out here if you get sick you could die,” you ramble, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“I’m clean. I’ve never been touched by a man. And I wouldn’t just be giving you sex, or safe sex, or my virginity, I’d be giving you a piece of me, my dignity, my identity, my soul.”

He grins wickedly at that so you plow ahead. He likes to have power, you can read it in his face, so you use it to your advantage.

“I’d be yours, claimed, forever marked by you, by my first time. Yours to ruin. Yours to torment, yours to degrade, yours to fuck, yours to fill. You can stretch me out and when your cum is dripping down my thighs and I am reduced to a sweating, sobbing, shaking mess on the floor - striped of my dignity and humanity, then you can proudly sit back and see your power. How you’ve ruined someone, claimed them, destroyed them, owned them.”

Damn you’re really trying to sell this. He has to take bait, you can’t let them take your brother.

You have his undivided attention, his eyes never left yours throughout your whole monologue. He seems surprised and a little impressed by your unexpected language. Now that you’ve said your piece, finished begging, he breaks eye contact. He shamelessly looks you up and down like he’s inspecting a horse to buy. He says nothing but gives one curt nod.

You loosen a sigh of relief. Your brother would be safe. You turned to face him, you had been standing a step in front of him, protecting him with your body. You knelt down and put a hand on his check. “Go upstairs, and don’t come down till I tell you. Okay?” You tell him softly. He nods silently and heads for the staircase in the corner of the room. You straighten up and turn to face Joel again. There’s something on his face, almost like a sad understanding as he watches your brother leave.

“Alright sweetheart, where do you wanna do this?” He asks gruffly in his thick Texan accent.

Oh god this is really happening.

“N-not upstairs.” Is all you manage to get out. Your mind seems to be going blank with the anxiety and shock of what’s about to happen. When you don’t move or say anything else he just nods and grabs your hand, pulling you from the main room where all his men remain, rifling through your things. He pulls you through a door and into the kitchen. He closes the door and pushes a chair underneath the doorknob, jamming it.

“Don’t want anyone interrupting us.” He smirks at your widened eyes. “You know sweetheart, you sure do have a filthy mouth. Saying all those things.” He’s shaking his head. He finally lets go of your hand to take a step back and look you over again greedily. Nothing soft remains in his eyes now. No, the only thing you see is a predator. His hungry eyes devour you. All the warning bells are going off in your head, every instinct telling you to kick him in the crotch and run. But you know you can’t, because although you know you could probably outrun this big guy, there are too many of them, and your brother is upstairs. So, you take a deep breath, loosen your fists and accept you fate. He notices the little movement. He notices everything.

“Ready sweetheart?”

You give a small nod, still unable to speak. You’re afraid of how small your voice will sound. You will not appear weak in front of him. You hold your chin higher and meet his stare.

The corner of his lips pull up in a wicked grin. “Good.”

And then he moves, and he’s so fast you don’t even know what’s happening until you’re pushed up against the kitchen island. With a broad hand he pushes you down and pins you between your shoulder blades. He’s got you bent over face down on the counter. Your breasts are pressed against the cold granite and your nipples harden against it. He presses into you from behind and you can feel his considerable bulge. With one boot he hooks your foot and slides it out, spreading your legs further for him. You hear the metal clanging as he undoes his belt and lowers his zipper. You don’t turn to look. There’s no need, you know he'll be big. With his cock freed he closes the gap between you, leaning further into you.

Shit. This will be painful.

He's even larger than you thought. You feel his hard cock behind you, pressing against your ass and the small of your back. His head tilts and you feel his hot breath on the curve of your neck. His lips glide over your shoulder. “So soft.” He inhales deeply, smelling your hair. “Mmmm.” With one hand he reaches up and grabs at your breast roughly. He can feel your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. He lets out a low growl and gropes you harder. You can feel his breathing getting faster. He reaches back down to pull your dress up above your ass. It bunches around you hips.

“Hold this sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. You obey, grabbing the bunched up fabric with one hand and bracing yourself on the counter with the other. He pulls back, and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. One hand moves to your hip, keeping you in place. With his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock he notches at your entrances and pushes in half way. White hot pain flashes through you. He’s so big and your body was not prepared for him. He pulls out almost all the way and pushes in again, all the way, hips snapping. Searing pain, he is splitting your insides apart. You hiss in pain.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t say this was gonna be nice for you. Remember this is your payment. Take it.”

He chuckles darkly and slams into you again. You shake your head.

No, no no no, it’s too much.

You can’t breathe. You feel a trickle of blood run down the inside of your thigh. Your hips dig into the countertop and you know there with be a line of bruising left on your skin. You’ll have bruising on the side of your hips too, his fingers are griping you so tightly.

“That’s a good little virgin. So fucking tight. Relax sweetheart. Don’t fight it.” He grunts. “I know your pussy will want it anyways.”

He sets up a rapid pace, slamming into you roughly with each thrust. It’s dry and painful and you hate it. Hate him. But after a few minutes when your body has adjusted you begin to loosen a bit. You still hate Joel, hate this man who runs these lands like he owns them. But you can’t deny that your body has stopped protesting. So you try to drown out the obscene sounds of skin slapping and his grunting behind you. You let your mind travel far away and forget that it is Joel behind you.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you feel a change behind you, the hot breaths on your shoulder blades are uneven and the pace is different, slower and deeper. He lets out a pained moan then pulls out of you, there’s a seconds pause then you feel hot liquid spill over you. It hits the small of your back in ropes and drips onto your ass. He sighs deeply from behind you. You finally turn to look at him. He’s staring your body, satisfaction on his face as he watches his cum drip down you. You whip your head back around before he can catch your eye.

There’s silence as he watches you and catches his breath. Finally, he reaches down and pulls your underwear back up. He takes the dress out of your grip and tugs it down. He runs his hands over your waist and ass, smoothing the fabric and feeling you up. One rests at the small of your back and presses the dress into the wetness there, letting to fabric soak it up and stick to you. He grins.

“Alright sweetheart.”

He gives your ass a smack then lets go of you. You push up and raise yourself off from the counter, resting on your elbows. He says nothing else as he moves to the door, unwedges the chair and opens the door. He looks back at you. You’re still leaning against the counter for support. He eyes your shaking legs, your ruffed up hair, your wrinkled wet dress. “See you next month.”

You’re in shock. That’s it? You don’t move as he leaves and whistles for his men to follow. You don’t move till you hear the front door slam behind them. Then you sink to the kitchen floor.

You don’t understand, Joel is infamous for being violent and cruel. You know that could have been much worse, that he could have beat you, that he could have passed you around to his men afterwards. But he just left. Suddenly you feel grateful. Then you silently curse yourself for it, reminding yourself that even though it could have been worse it was horrible that it ever happened in the first place. That someone threatened your family, that they took something from you. That they acted like they owned the place. You grit your teeth. No, the only thing you’re grateful for is the fact that it’s over. You stand on your shaky legs and reach for a kitchen towel. You call out for your brother, letting him know that they’re gone and he’s safe. You clean yourself up and you hear his little feet running down the stairs. He bursts into the room and flies at you in a hug. “Your big sis took care of it. I’ll always protect you remember. It’s okay. It’s over.” You pat his back and comfort him.

See you next month.

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