#and I do not mean the horrible drink I am still drinking
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It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?
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Reader's POV
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As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.
I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home.
It doesn't feel like it yet.
But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.
Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up?
How naive of me.
I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.
Again, it's tomorrow's problem.
Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.
The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.
He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable.
What a shame.
When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.
I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.
But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.
The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.
Fuck it.
Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.
Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.
Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?
Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.
Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.
It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.
Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.
It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.
Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.
Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.
I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.
It was horrible until it wasn't.
I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.
Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?
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Monday morning comes faster than I wanted.
I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.
Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.
On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.
This Monday will be a blast.
Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.
"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.
"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.
"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."
The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name.
I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.
My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.
I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.
Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.
I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.
Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.
Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.
My ex didn't. And as him, many others.
I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.
Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.
Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.
"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.
"Of course. I promised I would."
Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.
"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.
"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.
It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.
I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.
"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."
Andie nods in understanding.
"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"
Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.
That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.
"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."
"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night.
I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.
"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."
Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.
"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.
"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"
"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.
The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.
"Do you think you'll see him again?"
I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'
That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?'
Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?
"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.
"But do you want to?"
That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.
"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."
A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.
She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.
Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.
Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.
----
A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there.
Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.
But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.
I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.
I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.
"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."
I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.
With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.
I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.
Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.
"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.
Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.
"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.
"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.
"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.
"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."
Weird.
Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.
"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.
"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"
A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.
Wait. I know that voice.
I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.
I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.
"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.
"Uh?"
"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.
"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.
"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.
"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."
"To you, sir. Have a good evening."
I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.
Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.
"(Y/N), wait!"
I turn and see him trotting towards me.
"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.
Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago.
"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"
What's wrong with me?
Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?
"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."
"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.
"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."
Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?
"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.
I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.
"Yeah, me too."
Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...
"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."
Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.
Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.
"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.
"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Yeah?"
"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."
----
This time, it's my turn to pick the place.
It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.
As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.
"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."
There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.
"What about yours?"
Now is my turn to talk about my boss.
"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."
The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala.
When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.
"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.
"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.
"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.
So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.
"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.
"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."
That's interesting. I want to know more about that.
"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.
Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.
I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.
"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."
"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.
"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."
What? Kick doors down?
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"
I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.
Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."
I roll my eyes. That's not the point.
"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"
Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.
Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"
He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."
I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"
Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.
"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.
Gosh, that smile.
"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."
Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.
"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."
Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.
"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."
Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.
It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.
"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.
"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.
I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.
"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."
"Fair enough."
After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.
"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."
Spencer's brow furrows.
"Ray is your ex?"
Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.
Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.
"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.
"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.
I chuckle. "Hell, he is."
It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.
"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.
"No. Don't do that. I invited you."
Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless.
"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."
Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.
We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.
"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.
"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.
"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes.
Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.
"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.
"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.
"So you really like my company, uh?"
I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.
"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.
The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.
I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.
Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.
"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."
Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.
Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.
"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.
"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.
Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.
I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.
"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling.
I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.
"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."
Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!
"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"
Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.
"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.
"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.
I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.
A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.
"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.
"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.
"Bet I won't."
"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."
"Good night, (Y/N)."
I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.
Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.
Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.
I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.
Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)?
Whatever it is, it feels so good.
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A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#aperrywilliams#amanda perry williams
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Okay but I love how Crowley and Aziraphale are actually in love the whole way through. It's not like the kiss comes out of nowhere. There's Aziraphale's whole realisation in the 40s, the dancing, all that.
#good omens#good omens spoilers#Alex fails to liveblog good omens#posts what i done#not to compare a horrendously good show to a just horrendous show#but in s15 of spn when they know Cas is going to confess he just acts the same as he always does#this is refreshing as hell#and I do not mean the horrible drink I am still drinking
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I am so high I love you dabs I love you big bong rips I love you huge heavy bong I love you only having 20 dollars to my name and no plans but getting high and ignoring it I love you oh no I’m thinking about it
#I want to take an ice cold shower and scream and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes and lock myself in a closet for 72 hours in the dark with#no distractions to figure out what I actually want to do with the rest of my life and to face every bad thought I have and struggle to#ignore even years later like ugh I just need to be at the bottom of the ocean floating sinking alive dead in between for like a month and#then pull me back up and either I’ll be normal or I’ll be so fucked up they just put me back in there#like either way I am vibing at the bottom of the ocean (I have been desperately imaging a sensory deprivation tank all day)#(put me in a fucking sensory deprivation tank until something in my fucking brain rewires and I get worse or better than I am now this#inbetween stage is fucking killing me like what do you mean I’m not a horrible person but also what do you mean I struggle every day but I’m#normal but I have things about me other people don’t and alienate me to the point of near total isolation but also this is just how humans#are and I need to take meds and actively struggle to fit into a perfect little box of what a person should be like god damn I am so tired of#getting better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and I’m miserable and I’m happy and I’m sobbing and#I know a month from now I’ll be depressed again or I’ll be the best I’ve ever been and it’s so fucking horrible to be in the middle stage#where I actually have to step up and admit shit is wrong and face it like why can’t I just lay in bed forever until I become the bed and not#like get a job and have a future. ugh. depression is so fucked esp bc most things in my life are normal I guess or like easier than my#friends like we all have seperate challenges but I’m the only one still living off their parents (ha. parent. forgot for a second.) and the#only thing wrong with my life is the mental health issues but I won’t step up and deal with it bc I feel like I’ve been depressed for so#long I like fucked up the foundational shit and like I know it’s fine but also I feel so behind and I feel like I’ll be behind and unhappy#forever even when im happy I know the next depressive episode is right around the corner and I give up again. ugh. I hate knowing that’s#what’s wrong with me but still not having the energy to step up and fix it. im so pathetic I want to cry. my brain is me but my brain is#destroying my life. anyways. im high and now im sad and have dry mouth. I think im gonna drink ice water and change into shorts+lay in bed)
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#here to say that dating is annoying and id like to go back to being comfortably single#not that im even dating im going on one date#but i forgot how annoying the whole game of like what does the bar we pick mean or the time or even type of activity like...#also he kinda took initiative in texting me if i still wanted to do smth & suggesting drinks#so i was like ok ill like text him smth unrelated to planning to not just seem like. uninterested lol#but now he hasnt replied to my text from last night#which i dont really care like. i myself am a horrible texter#but i feel weird bc i felt like he is def interested#maybe hes just also a terrible texter which is fine lmao#we do already know each other so its not like we have to make small talk over text but#im so annoyed that i. perhaps care#bella things
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Listening to stories of people who survived situations like being trapped in collapsed buildings and it kinda sounds like the human response to being trapped in a bad situation is to just keep going back to sleep until death comes. Thinking about depressive avoidant sleeping. Brain doesn't know you aren't trapped under rubble it can't see out of his bone prison brain just knows everything is bad and everything hurts and we can't handle this stress we need to divert all power to life support, night night.
#is that a horrible comparison to make? yeah probably in poor taste given the state of things#do I earnestly believe I am in as traumatic a situation as that? I think my brain is reacting the same way yeah. genuinely.#I think my brain has been in survial mode or death incoming mode for like. since middle school#I think I hit puberty and my brain decided we are dying slowly and painfully and has been reacting accordingly.#I think this year it got much worse tho I think this is when I hit the critical level because this is when I have been sleeping more#I hate that house and my roommates so much that I just sleep whenever I'm there. i don't eat much at home#I try not to drink much so that i don't have to use the bathroom as much and that also minimizes my kitchen trips.... I collect 2 litres of#water each morning. one for me one for my cat. his fountain stays full and I ration my water for myself and on the 4 nights a week I work#I will refill it at work. I am mostly trying to be unseen unheard in that house. Of course the dogs always hear me which is why I am so#careful. I only pass through that house twice a day: once in the morning and once in the evening. Coming and going.#on my days off that means only 2 bathroom trips per 24 hours but you know fucking what I still get bitten by a dog every time.#and wish I had just pissed in a bottle or something because they are jumping on me they are biting me there are tears in my eyes I am biting#my tongue because if I shout or tell them to stop their owner comes and yells at them. And they don't give a shit about being yelled at!!#but me??? Bleeding and anxious and trying not to piss myself?? I don't handle being yelled at well!! even if it isn't directed at me!!#I have RSD!! I used to cry in school when a teacher was chewing out SOMEONE ELSE !! and being SHOUTED genuinely at????#i am not coping well!! i do not feel safe in this house!!! between the actually getting bitten and the yelling!!!#and the yelling is nonstop because these women have issues with each other. bro I'm so fucking glad my dad moved out when he started having#Marital Issues bcos I think I'd have like 85% more childhood trauma if I had to listen to them fighting like this as a kid#shit I'm getting adulthood trauma from these women fighting. oh my god. angie dump your girlfriend for christ sake#and sTOP MOTHERING ME. I MOVED HERE TO GET AWAY FROM MY MOM AND THIS WOMAN IS WORSE THAN MY MOTHER ABOUT THE FUCKING MOTHERING.#Stop telling me what to wear!! Stop telling me what to eat!! Stop asking if I'm seeing anyone!!#this is my own fault I put myself in this situation and I am trying to claw my way back out but it isn't as easy as it was to get in ;-;#I hate myself I hate the decisions I made that got me here
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individuals will be like "guys who say they're just too horny not to rape people are horrible" and then fetishize vampires 😒
#MAKE IT MAKE SENSE#DO YOU OR DO YOU NOT LIKE FEELING UNSAFE#personally- BOTH are horrible scenarios#am i really the only one who got serious rapist vibes from edward. really?#'hnnng im resisting the urge not to ra- i mean drink your blood. but im gonna stand in the corner of your room and watch you sleep#every might. also i'll eventually ra- drain your blood' like?????????????????????????????????#this isnt cute to me!!!! how do you fetishize this!!!! it doesnt make any fuckin sense to me im sorry!!#ig the only way it can be 'okay' is when the vampire tells you directly what they want to do and you consent to it. ig thats what happens w#edward or whatever. idk. but before they get to that he feels rapey to me dawg im sorry#also thats just not sustainable#not enough ppl are gonna wanna let you do that. esp depending on how much blood a given vampire in whatever story needs#if in whatever story its a quarter of blood? maybe. if its like. a whole person? yeah good luck bud finding willing participants lmao#bc with a quarter you might be able to get 2 people to be willing. and usually in vampire stories theres this whole 'inability to stop'#theme because it just 'feels so good' 😒 (like man thats just rape im sorry shdjbhjbvfhjvg) but if you need a whole person's worth#or more- good fuckin luck finding enough willing ppl to make up for it#the amount of vampires vs the amount of willing participants- yes even if every person who wants to fuck a vampire on tumblr said yes-#is still gonna be disproportionate for sure#unless theres like. 5 vampires and all they need is a quart of blood. but that sounds stupid and unlikely#and THIS goes back to my 'vampire stories where theres vampires that dont attack humans or rely on them minimally are boring#and they might as well just be regular hemi parasites at that point instead of calling them vampires'#bc ig to me vampire stories SHOULD be horror stories. otherwise why have them in there. just seems boring
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it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.
it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.
you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.
it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.
your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?
it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.
your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.
it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.
literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!
it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.
but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!
get moving.
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02 — haunted
summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.”
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst
warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️
wc: 10.1k
a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art)
SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST
There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.
“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder.
Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.
You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”
“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”
She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”
“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice.
Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”
Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused.
“So… Spencer, huh?”
You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”
You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.
“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”
“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.
“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”
“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you.
Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room.
“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”
“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”
He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”
You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”
Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”
You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”
It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp.
Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”
“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”
He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”
“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”
His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”
“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”
“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”
“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”
He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”
“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”
“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”
You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye.
“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.
“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag.
“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?
“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”
You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”
“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”
“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”
***
“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.
Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”
“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you.
“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat.
Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”
“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.
“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.
“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case.
“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”
Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”
JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”
“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.
“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”
You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”
“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.
JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”
“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.
“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”
“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning.
Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless.
“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”
Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted.
“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.
Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.”
“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince.
“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.
Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”
***
You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch.
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.
You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”
He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”
“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”
“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”
When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”
“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”
“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”
You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”
Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”
***
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine.
The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.
That is, until Spencer stood from his seat.
“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”
Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”
Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”
Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”
“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.
In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.
“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief.
“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone.
“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.
“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”
Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”
“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder.
“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”
Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”
“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”
Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”
“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”
“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.
“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”
“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.
“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”
***
After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table.
“Hey.”
Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”
A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”
You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”
“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”
You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him.
“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”
He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”
“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”
At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”
Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”
“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”
Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”
JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”
“Only one man?” Hotch asks.
“Apparently.”
“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.
JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.
Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”
“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”
Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”
You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”
“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”
Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”
“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”
A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”
He smiles. “I will.”
JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.
Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”
“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”
JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”
You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her.
It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”
***
“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”
Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others?
“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”
“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s
Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”
You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”
“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone.
Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob.
“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”
“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”
“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”
The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?
“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter.
You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly.
“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have.”
She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”
The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics.
The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car.
“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house.
Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out.
“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after.
“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you.
“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.
The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.
“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”
It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this…
Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.
“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”
“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”
“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”
She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”
“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”
Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”
“(L/N), that’s enough.”
Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red.
“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”
“(L/N).”
“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”
“We’ll find him. Trust me.”
“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”
“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”
In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”
He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”
“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”
Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind.
“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”
Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”
“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”
“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”
“You’re too close to the case.”
A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”
“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.
“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”
“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”
“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”
“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”
The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him.
“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”
He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”
You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”
JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”
“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”
She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm.
“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”
JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”
She nods. “Okay.”
You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”
“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”
You don’t respond.
***
Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.
Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?
The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch.
“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm.
“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.
The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”
“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery.
Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”
Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.
“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.
Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.
“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging.
In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.
“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”
Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair.
“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”
“Trust me. I know.”
“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”
Tobias doesn’t listen.
The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it.
“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”
“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.
Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”
“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”
“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”
He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards.
“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!”
The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”
“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”
“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet.
The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”
Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”
“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”
“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses.
“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.
His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–
“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”
You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett?
“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”
“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”
“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”
JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”
“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”
“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.”
Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does.
“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”
As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.
***
“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead.
“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”
Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”
“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”
It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on.
“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”
“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard.
“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice.
You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave.
“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”
“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”
“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.
“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”
“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.
“No! Wait, don’t hang—“
The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him.
You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys.
“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”
It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser.
“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”
“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”
You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know.
“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you.
“Yes?” You need something. Anything.
“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”
“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”
“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”
In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”
“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door.
“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”
There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet.
“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”
“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.
“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”
There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”
“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”
He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”
“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”
“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”
You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
***
The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.
“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.
He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology.
“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”
“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.
“Not if he can’t find us.”
Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”
“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.
“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe.
Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”
“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”
The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.
“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.”
He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp.
“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”
He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”
You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”
His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”
Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”
“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”
He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy.
“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”
Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl.
“They’re trying to silence my message.”
“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”
Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”
He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind.
“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”
Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”
“You’re a liar!”
Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves.
“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”
Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.
“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”
“No,” he whimpers.
Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap.
“Confess!”
“I haven’t done anything…”
His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.
“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly.
“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”
Spencer sobs. “No…”
In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again.
Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened.
“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head.
“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”
Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”
“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”
“I serve you.”
“Then choose one to die.”
Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”
“Your team members. Choose one to die.”
He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”
Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”
“I lied.”
“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”
Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”
Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”
“No.”
Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”
“I won’t do it.”
The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”
“No.”
Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think.
“Choose.”
“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”
***
“We got him.”
The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.
When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore.
“Spencer.”
His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair.
“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”
“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”
You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”
The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here.
“I thought–”
You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”
He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm.
“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”
He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit.
“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.
He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”
You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“I know.”
You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”
“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”
Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”
He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.
***
You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason.
“Come in.”
The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”
“(Y/N).”
You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.
“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”
“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”
Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”
“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”
He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”
You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”
“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”
“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”
“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”
“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”
“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen.
It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you.
“You’re leaving the BAU?”
You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”
“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”
JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”
“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.
Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”
“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”
Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”
You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”
The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen.
“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”
“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”
He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”
“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”
Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”
“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”
“Why not?!”
“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”
Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.
“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”
“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”
He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”
There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?
“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”
“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x reader angst#criminal minds x reader fluff#criminal minds series#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you
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she's all that [slytherin version]
pairing - theodore nott x fem!reader.
summary - a relationship that started off as a surprise can't mean something good. especially when you're involved with a slytherin.
warnings - angst, grammar and vocabulary mistakes.
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a/n: I AM NOT A HARRY POTTER FAN, but i do like theodore nott, so if i got smth wrong, don't come at me. i wrote this very fast, so it may be rushed :) this idea has been stuck in my mind for days, so i hope you enjoy. i will be not writing part2 and this will be my only fic about the harry potter universe!
theodore's fingers gently brushed up and down y/n's thigh while she was observing the scene in front of her.
teenagers from all the houses dancing. sweat and alcohol filling the air, the beat of the music pounding in the girl's ears. this was unusual for her, for both of them, to attend a crowded party. the couple would rather spend time alone, but they had promised their friends, well, mattheo and draco, since they were so eager to come.
y/n sighed and layed her head on her boyfriend's neck as the girl's fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck.
"you okay?" he whispered.
"mhm."
his lips pressed a kiss on her forehead, which made the smile on y/n's face grow even more.
she continued to lay in silence while theo chatted with mattheo and blaise, who were satted at the same table.
"i think y/n needs to play some beer pong or else she'll fall asleep," mattheo spoke.
"are you so desprete to lose?" the girl gave him a small smile.
"don't be so sure of yourself, y/n/n," the boy grinned.
she opened her mouth to speak, but a voice interrupted, "heyyy guyyyss," a drunk draco appeared in front of the table.
blaise scrunched his nose, "fucking hell, how much did you drink?"
but the question was left hanging as draco pulled out some money from his pocket, "beforew i fodget, hers the money you wonn."
theodore tensed, and his hand stopped on his girlfriend's thigh as he looked at the money. y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "you won a game or something?"
"it's nothing serious."
"c'mon bro," draco smiled, "give yourself some credut, yao got the girl on thhe hook!"
mattheo grumbled, "draco."
the girl turned her head to her boyfriend, "what's he talking about?"
theodore just gave her a small, tight smile, "he's just drunk," he kissed her cheek while slightly squeezing her thigh, "let's just go, you need some rest."
"theo, man, just ttake the money," the blonde boy put it on the table in front of him, "you compuleted the bet, consgrats."
y/n stiffened, when she felt the air tense around, "what bet?" her eyes were still locked on her boyfriend, "theo, what is he talking about?"
"just forget about it, bella."
draco started speaking, "tell her, don't bse a skank," he looked at the girl, "we made a bet, about the-
the boy beneath her tensed, "malfoy."
"theodore sleesping with yoou, we actually never thought that he'd succeeds, but look at our boyey."
y/n's heart stopped. she actually stopped breathing.
theodore nott was known as the player, but when he approached her, she never thought that it was for bad intentions. the girl was shocked, of course, that the famous theodore nott had interest in her, but never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would do such a horrible thing.
when they both arrived at hogwarts, they became good friends, but when he started hanging out with the slytherin group, he just disappeared and forgot about the girl. completely ignoring her. living his new life.
but years later in potions, when he came up to her with the question "do you want to be partners for the project?" with that slight smirk of his and those beautiful eyes, she never thought that he, theodore nott, would do that. y/n was happy that maybe she would get her friend back. at the end of the day she was just a girl who saw the best in others.
sooner or later, that would lead her to be shattered, like right now, when she felt her heart break.
"cara mia," theodore started, but the girl just removed herself from his lap, standing up.
her eyes landed on mattheo, who couldn't look at her, "you knew?"
silence.
after becoming closer with nott she befriended mattheo riddle, but as time went by, he became one of her best friends. but now staring at him, y/n realized it was all a lie.
she felt theodore gaze her arm, "y/n, let me explain," but she pulled it away, starting to walk away.
draco smiled, "heeey, no hard feelingss, it was jusft for fun."
but she ignored him while walking towards the exit.
this happened in films. in books. god, she was so naive. all those looks, all those late night talks, the way he ressured her when she felt low, the way he held her when she felt blue. the touches. kisses. secrets. the "i love you." it was all a show.
tears started to appear in her eyes, but she tried to hold them in. the girl wouldn't cry. not because of her stupidity, not because of him.
she heard the doors behind her slam shut while a voice was trying to get her attention, "y/n, please, let me explain."
he ran closer, "i swear it's not like that, i love you," he reached for her hand, "y/n, i swear it was a mist-"
the girl spun around, "were you involved with other girls while all this was going on?" she looked into his eyes.
"bella-"
"yes or no?"
but he didn't reply and she knew the answer. y/n bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to break in front of him, "you know what hurts the most? knowing that if the bet wasn't made, you would have never talked to me and still kept ignoring me, like the past two years."
"y/n, please-"
"fuck off, nott," and just like that she left him in the hallway. left him with her heart, that, once again, was broken. broken by the boy that made her feel everything. that made her feel pure happiness, who made her feel at home.
but it all was a lie. it all was a fucking bet. and y/n y/l/n was just a game.
#harry potter#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott angst#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fic#theo nott#theo nott x reader#slytherin#mattheo riddle#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#hogwarts#slytherin boys
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11/10
a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️
tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms
w/c: 2.3k
in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.
it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’
‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.
‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’
there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.
‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.
‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.
he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.
were you trying to tell him something?
seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.
so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.
‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.
‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.
‘oh? confident much?’
he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’
and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’
‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’
you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him.
‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.
is this a challenge?
‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’
sounds like a challenge to him.
(12:40 am)
‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.
‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.
‘how many was that?’
‘f-fou-r’
‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.
‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’
‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’
seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.
right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms.
after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.
he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.
it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.
‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.
40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.
you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.
‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.
‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’
subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.
you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.
‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.
you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.
‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.
‘f-five’
‘did you fake that one?’
you tell him you didn’t. you promise.
‘are you sure about that?’
‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’
‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.
‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open.
‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.
drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.
‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’
he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.
‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.
‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another.
‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.
‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers.
after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.
‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.
‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.
as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm.
he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm.
‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers.
‘look at yourself’ he commands.
you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.
‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.
‘what’s that dripping out of you?’
your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.
‘answer me’
‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.
but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again.
‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.
‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you.
‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.
he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.
in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.
you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.
‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.
‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.
maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.
‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.
you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.
he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.
‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out.
‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.
‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.
‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.
‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.
‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’
‘you can’ and you will for him.
‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms.
‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.
‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’
as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.
he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.
finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.
‘how many was that?’
‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.
he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.
‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.
‘yes! i did. i promise!’
did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.
#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seungcheol imagine#scoups imagine#scoups oneshot#seungcheol x you#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol drabble#scoups drabble#seungcheol oneshot#scoups fanfic
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Requesting some Eddie smut where he did cheat and he’s so desperate and needy to get you back. Pathetic, pathetic man shit. Reader’s kinda mean with good reason and the end is loveyish… maybe she’s gonna make him work for it.
Possibly taking place at a bar when Eddie see’s someone flirting with her.
Hehehehe
🧎🏻♀️ thank you
OUTTA YOUR MIND//EM X FEM READER
Oh honey this request was so delicious. Thank you I hope you enjoy this! ❤️ (( also I kinda changed up how this ends I hope that’s okay!)) feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading! 18+
Warnings: oral (female) receiving, Eddie is a cheater, reader is in charge. Angst, biting, p in v sex, reader is mean, if I miss something please let me know so I can add it up here!!
wordcount- 2K
The grimy bar in town is the last place you’d usually be seen, especially on a regular night. You’d found yourself grinding up against some guy you didn’t even know, his large hands wrapping themselves around your waist. He squeezes you tightly back against as you sigh, the loud music thumping all around you vibrating your entire body.
You’d lost count of how many drinks you’ve downed since you got here, but at this moment you didn’t care. The past few months had been a shit show, coming home to your boyfriend in bed with another woman, her moaning for him as your mouth dropped in horror. Not your Eddie. You’d never thought he would do something like that to you, but you got a smack from reality as you watched him fuck her like his life depended on it.
So here you were, six months later, single and passing the time by going out. You tried to forget him, but that was impossible, you couldn’t deny he had been the love of your life, but he had shattered all the hopes and dreams your heart had created. The fight after you walked in was horrible, you kicked him out. He had the audacity to beg at the door for you to ‘not do this’ but you laughed and slammed the door in his face. Leaning against it before sobbing to yourself quietly.
“Want another drink baby?” The man holding you whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. Your eyes scanned the bar, watching people even more inebriated than you were right now making complete fools of themselves. Your eyes stopped, catching a glimpse of wild black curls, a leather jacket, and tattoos. Oh shit. You turn around to the man and smile politely as you can, “Actually, I think I’m gonna head out but thank you.” You say, kissing his cheek gently before walking away. Eddie spotted you, his blood boiling at the sight of you actually enjoying some other man’s company.
He had this coming, he should’ve known better, but it still hurt. He knew he had fucked up with you, but he still loved you. He knew you’d never believe him again. You hurried after him, watching as he walked down the hall towards the bathrooms. He stopped mid walk, turning around slowly and looking at you like some sort of sad puppy. “What are you doing here?” You ask, approaching him. You feel mixed emotions, he looks so good, but you knew thinking that way was playing a dangerous game.
“What, am I not allowed to go out?” He snapped back at you, raising his eyebrows as you picked at one of your nails nervously. Your eyes trail from his face down, down, down. You fight the urge to bite your lip and you notice the new rings on his hands, shining in the yellow light. “Don’t get an attitude Eddie, it was a simple question.” You say, going to brush by him, he grabs your wrist quickly. A sick smile breaks out on your face as you turn around to look at him.
He’s beautiful, there's no denying that. “Something you want Eddie?” He stares at you, his brown eyes darkened. He licks over his bottom lip before he pushes you back towards the bathrooms. A thrill runs through your body, you still had him wrapped around your finger, and even though you didn’t want to be with him anymore you loved that he still wanted you. You could do anything you wanted and you knew he would be under your complete control.
You stumble backwards, letting him push you inside before he turns around and locks the door. “One last time, please?” He whispers, stepping up closer to you, his hand trembling slightly as he reaches out to touch your arm gently. You fake a disgusted look, huffing and crossing your arms. He was going to work for this. “And why should I let you get anywhere near me Munson?” You spit back at him. He scoffs, looking down at you. “What did you just call me?” You laugh, swaying slightly before stepping up closer, your noses almost pressed up against each other. “Munson.” You can see the rage flash in his eyes, Eddie hated being called by his last name and you knew that.
Eddie opens his mouth to speak but you don’t give him the chance, cutting him off as you reach out for his jacket, pulling him close to you. “Fine, you get tonight only and that’s it, get on your fucking knees and show me how sorry you are.” You’d never seen him move so quickly before, kneeling down on the dirty floor in front of you. His trembling hands reach up for your thighs, sliding over them quickly before he’s working the button of your pants open.
You stare down at him, fighting the urge to smirk, he looked so good on his knees. Eddie finally yanked your pants down, his rough fingers hooking into your panties and sliding them down your legs. You step out of them and kick them, not caring where they went. Reaching down you grab the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his wild curls. “Show me how badly you miss this Eddie.” You whisper.
He leans forward, kissing your thigh sweetly before hovering right where you need him the most. The first swipe of his tongue sends electric shock waves throughout your body. Your knees threaten to buckle as he flicks his tongue against your clit, the tongue ring that he likes to show off rubs against you just right. You laugh as you look down at him, his big brown eyes shining in the dim light, glazed over with lust. “You missed me didn’t you? Poor baby, it’s too bad that other girl can’t compare to me can she?” You ask, yanking his hair slightly, making him pull away from your pussy for a minute.
His lips and chin are wet as he looks up at you. “I missed this so bad.” He whines out, leaning back in, licking a long stripe up slowly before sucking your clit into his mouth, your thighs almost hooked over his shoulders. It felt like heaven on earth, but you didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction of knowing that. “That's all you got Eddie? Steve did it so much better.” A shocked noise rips its way out of his throat but he doesn’t stop, only going at you even harder. His big fingers grip your thighs, bruising your skin. “You’re so pathetic, aren’t you? Crawling back to me when you fucked me over.” You whisper, pushing his head back and stepping away from him.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staying on his knees with his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. “As much as I hate you now, I can’t deny that I want you one last time, get your pants off, now.” He stands up quickly, unbuckling the handcuff belt on his waist before pushing his pants and boxers down, his cock is leaking and harder than you’ve ever seen it before. “That looks painful.” You say, leaning back against the sink behind you. He rolls his eyes at you, waiting for your next order as you pull your top off, throwing it at him.
You shuffle yourself up onto the counter, spreading your legs while looking into his eyes, he trails them down your body, moaning audibly when he sees just how wet you are. “Beg me for it.” Eddie huffs in annoyance, but it doesn’t stop him from walking closer to you, biting his lip softly before placing both his hands on the counter next to you. “Please.” He whispers, leaning close to you, the smell of his cinnamon gum that he had been chewing filling your senses. “Surely you can do better than that Eddie.” You say, reaching up and grabbing his face between your thumb and pointer finger.
“I said, beg me.” You squeeze his face, pulling him closer to you. “Please let me fuck you, please. I’ll do anything you ask of me, I need it baby please..” He whines out as you smile up at him. You let go of his face, leaning back and pulling your legs up, spreading them wider so he can get between them. “Cmon then, give it to me.” You bite your lip as
Eddie strokes himself a few times, the pre-cum that had been beading at the head of his cock now running down over his fingers.” He guides himself to you, not giving you any time to relax before he’s pushing inside. You’d almost forgotten how big he was, the stretch sending a fire throughout your body.
He hooks his strong arms under your legs, his muscles flexing as he lifts them up, putting them on his shoulder, he slides in even deeper until he’s right against you. His hips pressed up against your ass as he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. “Fuck, forgot how fucking tight you are, feel so good baby, so wet.” He whispers, closing his eyes tightly before drawing himself back out slowly, you fight back the moans threatening to slip from your lips but can no longer contain yourself when he thrusts right back in. You trail your fingers down his back, digging your nails in hard enough to leave marks.
You hoped that if he was still with the woman he left you for, she would see the markings you were leaving on him. He may be with her but he would always belong to you, all you’d have to do is snap your fingers and he would run right back. Sad really. You snap back from being inside your head when you feel him shaking, he’s pounding into you harder than ever before, each drag of his cock making you let out loud sobs that you didn’t realize you were making until now. The sound of your skin mixed with wetness fills the dinghy bathroom, his moans creating a delicious melody as they combine with yours.
Eddie leans down close to you, resting his forehead against yours, his curls falling down around the both of you and framing you from your surroundings. “Can I cum inside you?” He whispers, his hands pushing your legs off of his shoulders, holding them apart. You moan loudly, leaning up to bite his lip, nodding slightly before placing a hand on his face. “Look at me.” You whisper, his brown eyes snapping open to stare into yours. You saw love still in them, but now it would get no reaction from you, the love you’d had was crushed a long time ago. “Go ahead, cum for me, fill me up.”
He lets out a choked sob, one of his fingers reaching down to rub your clit as he thrusts into you faster, his rhythm faltering slightly. You feel your orgasm threatening to snap at any moment as he leans down, biting hard onto your shoulder. It sends you both over the edge, bodies rocking against each other as you cum together. You can feel him leaking out of you as he slowly pulls himself back. The emptiness causes you to whine as your breathing returns to normal. You sit up slowly, watching him. He grabs his pants off the floor slowly putting them back on as you hop off the counter, finding your scattered clothing. The silence between you creates an awkward tension. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.
You feel him place a hand on your arm, turning slowly to look at him. “W-when can I see you again?” He says softly. You smile up at him, wicked. “Oh Eddie, you must be outta your mind.” His face falls as you finish putting your clothes on. You make your way to the door, turning around to see him dumbfounded, his hands hanging by his sides. Blowing him a kiss, you walk out of the bathroom and out of his life, for good.
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Hey, same anon asking about yandere stuff. I'm so glad to hear!! Of course if you want to, may I please request yandere Vox with the reader? Like how they try to run from him? Perfectly fine with it being a female reader as I am one. And I don't mind how you write it. Do whatever you please! I love seeing others' interpretation of the characters 🖤 No rush!
YOU CAN'T RUN. HELL, YOU CAN'T HIDE EITHER.
thank you lovely anon! I love the concept of Yandere Vox! Hope this is good :) let me know your thoughts in another ask if you'd like! Lots of love!
Summary: Vox doesn't often fall in love often, no. Well that was until you came around- and you wanted a job with Valentino of all people? No. That would never fly with him. He'd make you work with him instead, like an intern or something? Hell, anything to make you stay near him. Anything to get him as close to you as possible.
Genres: Angst with a small amount of sexuality
NOT PROOF READ (yet)
Warnings/Tags: Yandere Vox, Insecurity, Reader is naive, manipulation, mind control, exploitation, creepy behavior, masking, contractual agreements, reader lacks hell experience, Vox is violent, Vox lacks empathy, angst, swearing, overall kinda depressing (LET ME KNOW IF MISSING ANY)
Pt 2
_______
You can't believe your eyes when you step into that tower, the pink glass adorning the outsides making your eyes shimmer. You have a job interview with Valentino today, after waiting for (probably too long) to get a job somewhere.
You see, hell worked slightly differently to earth. Where things in earth worked in a more of a 'work and make work' sort of way, Hell is more 'work, make work, and fight'
You'd managed for the past months to live in a small apartment that happened to be owned by someone who got killed in an extermination. It wasn't your plan to impersonate a sinner and squat in their home, but you have to get by somehow, right?
Well- it also wasn't your plan to be a porn star. But no where else seemed to want to take you. You're small, too weak to be taken by anyone else. People on the street told you that you were made for the screen, that your body was perfect. Some even tried to pay you copious amounts of cash just for you to suck them off. And you hate it.
At least the elevator of the building is cozy.
Vox on the other hand was having the best day of his life: or in his definition, a day where Valentino doesn't have a stupid breakdown that Vox doesn't have to solve.
He loves to watch his people as they indulge in his technology, he loves to watch everyone become obsessed with him and his media, he loves to be in control of all of these people. He'll watch every screen around him with focus, taking in their reactions as he bottle feeds them content.
Could he be with his boyfriend, Val? Yes. Does he want to? Hell no. He doesn't love Val. Plain and simple in his eyes. He has Valentino to get his business along. To make him more powerful. He'll do what he has to to be the most powerful he can be. Even if it means toying with people around him.
Val doesn't think he's capable of falling in love with anyone in this horrible underworld he inhabits. Everyone here is fucked. he is fucked. Plus, he doesn't know anyone here who he'd connect with anyway.
Or well that's what he did think until right now. There is a girl in the central elevator that looks awfully out of place, causing Vox to turn the entirety of his attention onto her. She looks like a regular old sinner, yes- but still she stands it like a sore thumb against the few people also in the central elevator. Where everyone's boring physique was her own enticing one stands. Where everyone else's two tone personalities stand her own colorful and bright one shimmer in his 2-D irises.
And then comes that odd feeling in his chest, this weird bubbling feeling of emotions that causes his eyes to tear up ever so slightly. This feeling, it's addicting. He wants to grind her up into a smoothie and drink her up, making the feeling sit there forever.
Something is wrong with him: he thinks.
With bated breath vox looked at the floor the elevator was approaching, figuring out where the girl is exactly going. There are only few reasons a sinner shows up at V tower anyway: to get a job with Valentino, or to turn yourself in if you'd wronged them. The elevator number reads '10'. She's going up to the business floor where Valentino currently is.
A sudden twist finds its way into his stomach, a horrible twist that makes his head burn with anger. Who does Val think he is? Having a girl such as her working for him. He. Couldn't let this happen, no no no no no no no. Why would he even want to exploit such a girl? She's supposed to be loves and cherished for everything she is.
The only reason she'd want to work with Val is because she has no other thing to do. He needs to offer her a job- or something to keep her from giving herself away to Valentino. Something to keep her as close to him as possible- like an intern or an assistant or anything.
Anything: Vox thinks.
Not often is Vox so reckless, not often at all. He likes to think he's decorum and well-adjusted. Likes to think he's a figure of this time. Of his time.
But right now, all he wants is this beautiful fucking girl to look at him in his eyes. Is it selfish? To want something so bad you feel like you could to horrible things to get it? Probably. But this is hell. And as an overlord of hell he can take what he wants. For once he doesn't care.
--- 666 ---
You take a step from the elevator, looking around the rather nauseating long and rounded hallway with squinted eyes. You can barely remember where you're supposed to be going anymore. You're supposed to meet Val inside one of these many, many studios. But soon enough as you start to venture through the halls on light, unsure steps you find yourself unable to read the words and numbers on each door.
Something is wrong, and you're unable to focus. There's this buzzing sound in your ears, a very faint but obvious buzzing that's causing your brain to go fuzzy. You can't feel your body anymore, it's just walking down the hallway in painful circles.
Suddenly that tether in your brain snaps with a loud crack, and your face to face with a television. You're still standing, in this long hallway, but now you're looking into the dark eyes of a TV screen. Wait- Eyes?
"Oh, Hello there sinner, are you looking for Valentino?" He asks, voice weirdly distant yet close all at the same time. His smile is large, almost devilish looking as he stares down at you.
You feel on edge, and your head still has a very faint buzzing lining itself.
"Oh, erm, Yeah.. I can't seem to recall what room-" You flinch as he hooks an arm around your neck walking you down the hallway once again with a smirk. There's a weird edge to him that you can't pin down, this whole interaction almost seems.. forced? Oh, there you go again, putting labels on things. Stop overthinking!
"Don't worry your pretty head about it! I'll take you to him," he says, unhooking his arm from your shoulder; only for him to rather sensually drag his hand across your shoulder blades until it's claws barely rest against your shoulder.
"But you know," Vox begins, swinging himself around so he stands in front of you, hands resting on either of your shoulders. You have to stop yourself from bumping into his chest. "You don't have to work for him." He says, his voice turning slightly more TV like and distant as he speaks.
"What do you mean..?" You ask, pushing his hand off of your shoulder with a painful twist of butterflies. A type of butterflies that you can't understand.
"Well, you seem like the type of gal to enjoy.." he looks you up and down, moving his hands from your shoulders as he grins. "Taking orders," you tilt your head at his words, confused. He shakes his head to himself, looking away for a moment with a slight frown before staring back, smiling brightly.
"No, I mean that you could be my assistant! You can.." He thinks for a moment, tapping the bottom of his screen as if it were his chin. He shrugs, smiling awkwardly with furrowed brows. "Bring me drinks and such! C'mon.."
He leans down to your level again, looking into your eyes. You suddenly feel that wave of disorientation go through you again, the only thing seeming to make sense to you being.. Vox.
"You don't want to be exploited by him, do you?" He says, and you feel his screen radiating heat on your skin. The buzzing becomes more loud as he goes on, all you seem to be able to hear being his words as they drip from his vile tongue. "C'mon dear, He'll break you."
"And you don't want to be broken, Right?"
He is right. You don't want to be broken by Valentino. You don't want to be exploited. But you don't have any other choice-
Until now, that is. You have an opportunity.
You should take it, right?
The headache and buzzing dissipate, taking a chunk of your psyche along with it. You feel your feet begin to give out beneath you from the exertion, lacking balance as you wobble softly. Not wanting to faceplant into the carpet, you reach out to something, anything to hold you. It just so happens to be Vox's chest, grasping onto the fabric of his coat as you begin to slip down to the floor.
"Hey, Hey, it's okay, What's got you out of sorts?" He asks, grasping you by your waist as he lifts you back to your feet. You blink, looking around for a moment with a nervous breath. Those butterflies, again. You hate them.
"I- uh.. I dunno.." You say stutter, pushing yourself away and scratching that back of your neck.
"You're feeling better?" Vox says, dipping his lids as he tilts his head rather attractively.
You nod, looking down at the ground with a nervousness inside of you.
"Good, good.." he turns away, looking at the ground and pacing for a short amount of time "good.." he says softly to himself, turning back around and clasping his hands together as he grins.
"Now how about you follow me and we can get you set up, yeah?" He says, pressing his hand against the space between your shoulder blades as he turns back to the elevator. You look up at him, and for a moment he seems to be in his own world. At least he is until you speak.
"So what's your name, Mister?" You ask, fiddling your fingers against each other nervously. He grins, lids upturning with the smile as well. He leans down again, poking a blue claw on your cheek as buzzing blurs your brain.
"It's Vox, my dear," He says, and your brain goes soft and mushy with an emotion you cannot describe. It feels as though he's making you melt.
"Keep that in your head for me, will you princess?" He asks softly, pulling his claw up the side of your face with a manic grin.
With a sudden movement he pulls away, shrugging his hands.
"Now darling, let's get back to it, shall we?"
Something is off, and part of you wants more of it.
--- 666 ---
Mister Vox's office is large in size, walls lined with screens displaying different things across the entirety of the pride ring. You wonder what Vox may do here all day, seeing the singular seat between it all that doesn't even seem that cozy.
You assume he watches, broadcasts, does meeting, and.. does what he's doing right now, perhaps?
"What do you do all day, Mister Vox?" You ask, looking wide-eyed at the television lined walls of the area. He flinches, grinning awkwardly before bringing back his confident demeanor.
"Me? Oh, you know.. this and that- I go to meetings.. I sign paperwork, I go to meetings.." He laughs to himself, shaking his hand dismissively as he sits in his seat, spreading his legs in a man spread. You turn away from the screens, looking over at Vox as he scans the monitors with narrowed eyes. You wonder if he was doing something important before he found you.
"Uh, Mister Vox, what do I do now..?" You ask, taking a small step towards him. He tilts his head towards you, smiling as he swings his chair to face you completely.
"oh, you? You can just sit there and look pretty.." Vox looks you up and down with narrowed eyes, face blank for a long moment before bringing a small smirk onto his face. He leans back in his chair, clicking his fingers as a bundle of clothing finds it's way into your hands.
"Perhaps prettier, change into that for me will you dearest?" He says, leaning his head on his fist as his voice becomes slightly more distant. You look at him, confused as you clutch the blue and red clothing to your chest.
"Okay.. Where do I change, Mister Vox?" You say, fiddling with the collar of your shirt as your body feels hot. Vox rolls his eyes playfully, pointing a clawed finger to the floor as he shifts his chair back to the screen. "Just change here my dear, no one will see you," He says, looking at you with a side glance. It's almost condescending, in a way.
"right here? But-"
"Here is fine, dear. Hell, here is more safe to change than anywhere else in this building," He laughs. You get this off feeling like you should trust him. I mean, he's one of the people owning this building anyway, right? He would be the one knowing a lot about it rather than anyone else. you should trust him.
"Okay Mister Vox."
You can't see his grin.
Every piece of clothing you peek off feels like this weird symbolism for losing yourself. Off comes your shirt: a piece is lost. Off comes your shorts: a piece of you is lost. And then more clothes come onto you, building something new. On comes a skirt: a piece of you is molded. On comes a blouse: a piece of you is molded.
And then there's this watch, a mobile one with 'Vox Tech' plastered across the side. With a shrug you put it on, struggling with getting it to tightness but ultimately managing to win the battle with the finicky strap.
"Good, good, how great you look!" He says, outstretching his hands with a grin.
You feel yourself blush, one half of you from his compliment and the other half from the fact he's looking completely in your direction. Does that mean he was watching you the whole time?
"Actually my dear, do you think you can grab me a coffee?" He asks, clicking his hands as a streak of blue energy shoots inside of the watch; this causes a mao to appear on the screen, showing where you are currently. "That map should tell you where to go, the assistant there should give you the coffee the way I like it,"
You shouldn't ask it, but you feel your bones ache too.
"How do you like it?"
He grins, tilting his head.
"Sweet with a strong flavour," He states, waving you off.
--- 666 ---
The first week as Vox's Assistant goes by smoothly, or as smoothly as it could working with an Overlord of hell. A rather odd seeming one at that.
Everything feels on edge with Vox, you feel like at any moment he could do something drastic. You've no idea what said drastic thing could be either, which makes it a whole lot more anxiety inducing. Hell, Vox is attractive. That's probably why you're on edge. That's what you keep telling yourself anyway. You're probably in love with him or something.
Vox had even given you housing as close to the building as possible, insisting he pay the rent. Not that you complain, no; less walking for you it seems. The Vox Tech watch he gave you tells you pretty much everything that you need to do. When you wake up in the morning it goes off, alerting you like an alarm, it has a to do list that blares when you're in the office, it maps out the whole space, it even acts as Vox's messaging system towards you.
You do wonder how he controls it, even in the comfort of your own home. Well, he is an overlord, right? He's capable of things even outside of your grasp. You cannot even fathom what he could do with that power.
And that's just the way Vox likes it.
Actually, you haven't seen Valentino around the building the whole week either. Even in a meeting you accompanied Vox to. You'd expect to see him more often with all the prowling in and out of the building you do.
It's as if he's vanished.
"Princess, grab me a coffee will you? Maybe even grab one for yourself while you're at it, on the house," Vox asks, swiveling on his chair to face your own, which sits just off to the side of his own with a small desk in front of it. You'd been doing some paperwork for him for the past hour, mostly reading through stuff, asking him questions, and singing them for him.
"Yeah, sure.. um, I was just wondering.." You utter softly, causing Vox to raise a brow as he leans back on his chair with a confident grin. He tilts his head in question, saying: "What's on your mind, (N/N)?"
"I haven't seen Valentino around the building, I was just wondering if something's up with him?" You ask, looking down at the ground as you begin to regret yourself even questioning. Vox laughs, flapping his hand in dismissal.
"Oh, just that? Don't worry about it! He's just.." Vox pauses for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "Doing his own thing," He finishes, smiling rather oddly as he begins moving his chair back to face his computers. You intercept.
"His own thing..?"
Vox turns back to you, grinning widely with a manic look in his 2-D eyes. Once again, the buzzing fills your brain. And you fall to your knees against the ground with a painful 'thump'. Vox harshly grips your chin, pulling you closer to him until all you can see is that blaring red eye of his as he speaks.
"As i said,"
You feel yourself wanting to let go.
"Don't worry about it."
He lets you go of your trance, leaving you teary eyed as he smiles softly, brows furrowing in a sort of mocking empathetic way. His eyes drip with affection you find.
"Now, grab that coffee, okay?" He finishes, placing a cold kiss against your forehead before letting go of your chin, leaving yourself to gather your bearings.
It's not often you feel the want to defy someone. But as you stand from the floor, dusting off your skirt and walking to the elevator; you feel that need to be defiant. You'd figure out where Valentino is. He has to be somewhere in the building, right? You just have to find.. him..
In these hundreds and hundreds of doors. You would have to find him. And you can't take so long, otherwise Vox may suspect something.
You'd find someone to tell you where he is, you'd find him, and you'd stop worrying if Vox is going to do something drastic because he hasn't lied to you. Simple as that, simple as that. Right?
As it just so happens, as you begin walking through the studio halls you find yourself bumping into a spider individual, of whom you remember being a popular porn star.
So with an anxious breath you asked him. He explained that Valentino was in studio B-40, but he doesn't recommend finding him. And once again you go against someone's wishes. Plus, you were just going to stick your head in the door. It's nothing to worry about.
So what are you so anxious when you find yourself getting closer to the door? Why does your throat feel so tight? Why do you want to run in the other direction? Why does every step feel so heavy?
Taking another small step to the door, you wonder if you should listen to your conscious. It's supposed to do you good , right?
No, that's baby talk.
You aren't weak. You aren't letting the people in hell get you down! You are going to open the door!
You push yourhand towards the door handle and-
"Ouch! Fuck-" You yelp, an electric shock going through your body, causing you to fall backwards onto the hard floor below. Your whole body is on fire, you can't feel your tongue. You can't feel your brain.
A hum accompanies Vox's words.
"You're not going in there." He says, leaning over you as you push yourself to your knees, pressing yourself to the wall. Your head is throbbing.
"I'll beat him to a pulp if he sees you, you know?" Vox laughs, that sickening pseudo-empathetic look covering his flat features. You feel your stomach twist, this time in an awful way, it's like he's draining you of your soul. You want to disappear.
"I don't want to be aggressive," Vox begins as he grips your face harshly, causing tears to well into your eyes. "But your fucking mine, you got that?"
"And I won't let that sleazy prick get his greedy eyes anywhere near you!"
"W-what?" You whimper, pushing his hands from his face and backing away meekly. Vox laughs to himself, red dripping from his two dimensional mouth. He humors you with that gaze of his, eating alive any part of your confidence that may still linger.
"Oh, don't you get it, my dear? You sighed the paperwork," Vox leans down so his eyes can bore into your own, his gums showing in that prideful smile of his. "You belong to me now."
You choke on air, standing to your wobbly feet.
"W-what? I don't un-"
The paperwork. The paperwork you signed to get the job. You didn't read it! You idiot. You fucking idiot! You've ruined your own life. You belong to him..
To Vox.
"You- Shit-!" You turn around on your heels, almost slipping as you speed off into the hallway. You hear his voice echo in your ears.
"You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either!"
This was a mistake, this whole thing was a mistake. You want to die. You want to disappear. You want to get as far away from him as possible. You don't even take the elevator down, you run down every single flight of stairs jumping down a couple to save time.
The slip beneath your feet almost makes you topple over as you clutch onto the railing, swinging yourself onto the next flight of stairs. You have to be close to the bottom, right. Right? Yeah. This is fine.
And you were, right, surprisingly. You can almost see the entrance outside. You just have to make it out of this lobby. You just have to make it out of this huge fucking stupid ass lobby! You have to.
All of the sinner's eyes bore at you as you run at top speed to the door. You can't be here. You need to leave immediately. He can't find you If you're far away, right? Just go somewhere without a camera.. it'll be fine.. everything will be fine.
You're so close! Just a few more steps, a few more heavy, headache inducing steps.
You can make it. You just have to believe in yourself, and it'll all work out. Everything will be fine. It just has to be. Hell can't be this cruel, can it?
You're so close to the door you can smell the outside world, hear the cars as they pass, hear the charter hear the-
You choke and fall.onto the ground, a heaviness around your neck and wrists. It buzzes against your skin, making you go light headed. You can barely see it, but it's there. There are handcuffs around your wrists. And a collar around your neck. All of which glowing and buzzing with that electric blue of Vox.
He is right.
You can't run, you can't hide, you can't do anything.
He owns you, he has you. You can't do anything.
You made a mistake.
Maybe hell really is this cruel.
Keeping you forever tethered to this man.
Who knew one mistake would ruin the rest of your eternity.
Serves you right for being so naive.
"Alright now, are we done with our tantrum?" Vox asks.
"Yes mister Vox." You say.
#proship#senseichaos#antishippers dni#senseichaosdrabbles#proship fanfiction#Vox x reader#vox x reader#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#vox yandere#yandere vox#yandere hazbin hotel#ask#sensei chaos requests#senseichaosanons#lovely anon
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Crimson bride
(Yandere Damian Wayne x twin sister reader)
( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)
Summary: Your life is going to end horribly, your will to live is slipping away, will your only hope come to save you?
Tw: mentions of violence and abuse
The smell of blood and incense had filled the air, your lungs could hardly bear the responsibility of bringing you oxygen under the pressure of your stress, not that they could easily filter the smoke in the air anyway. It felt like the air was on fire, with each breath your body shuddered slightly, your body could hardly bear the burden of keeping you alert. The beads of sweat slithered down your spine, making the already uncomfortable rags even more unbearable. You were just 11, why were you stuck in a room full of adults in dark long robes...you were not sure...or perhaps you knew what was going to happen, but you didn't know why on earth you were there. You eyed the sacred blade in the hand of the leader of the group, the light of the candles shimmering on its uneven blade, and swallowed your saliva down your throat that now had turned extremely dry. You could already feel the pain in your chest. Dear God, if you hear me...please help!
The dark monks' chants echoed in the chambers, and the puddles of red wax candles under the feet of pillars carved with different images of unholy creatures, seemed like oozing puddles of blood to you, already boiling with crimson liquid of life right out of hell, where they hailed their master from. The veil on your head was thin enough for you to recognize people's faces, well, at least the ones who didn't have a mask on, and your terrified eyes spotted the figure of your grandfather standing behind the leader, himself holding a golden bowl at hand. You gritted your teeth at remembering his words. The memory is still fresh for you, it was just two months ago when he was having a drink with the leader himself in his boudoir, with you present by his side.
"She's a fitting lady Ra's...I give you the credit of having good hereditary genes..." the leader spoke in his smooth voice, his eyes scanning you up and down. You knew how the way he looked at you was inappropriate but you still stayed, holding the tray of drinks, standing by your grandfather's side, if you were going to flinch even for an inch, your mother wouldn't be happy. "She is..." your grandfather hummed, rubbing his chin before he chuckled "What is it old friend? You seem too interested in my child..." the words spoken made your shoulders stiffen slightly, your fingers tightening around the edges of the tray. "I am...but not for what you think...she is too young for marriage for a mortal man..." his smirk grew wider as he continued "But she's at the ripe age for being gifted to our dear lord...she'd make a decent bride..." you could see Ra's hold on his glass of drink tighten, what did his friend mean? Did he want to marry you off to someone? You wondered, but your confusion soon turned into horror as the leader continued "Her heart fits the unholy bowl perfectly" Oh no...you had heard from your nanny that this man was bearer of bad news but this...this was unpredictable! Your head turned to your grandfather to see how he'd respond...please say no, please say no, I've been a good granddaughter...please say no! "What price do you offer?" And with that, your whole world shattered, you felt like life was slipping away from your shell of being as he negotiated the price of marriage, did he...did he just agree on making you a sacrificial lamb?!
You snapped out of your thoughts by feeling the extremely warm hold of the leader on your naked arm as he pulled you away from the corner of the damp room, the metallic chains on your weak ankles clinking loudly as you dragged them on the floor, your feet already bruised by the rough edges of the old tiles on the floor, leaving red trails of blood. He walked you to the alter, your heart skipped as you saw the white dressing of the stone bed, flower petals spread on the surface, how hauntingly fitting for a bridal bed... The man stopped you right before the altar and started chanting in a language you didn't know a word of. But whatever it was, it was working...because the tiles under your feet started to turn unbearably hot, the circles and symbols drawn onto the walls and the floor turned bright red, oh dear God...if you hear me...please help! You had lost your hope a long time ago, but still, you wanted to hold onto a sliver of hope, maybe your grandfather would change his decision at the last minute, or perhaps he would come...but no...how could Damian come to the other side of the world that quickly? He was just a child, like you, sure, he was a capable boy but still, he was just a boy. His words circled in your mind as the priest poured a warm liquid on your body that painted it red, its sweet aroma filling the air, unbeknownst to you, it was a poison that through skin pores penetrated the body and ran into your blood, slowly relaxing your muscles until your heart would stop, this way, if the demons preferred to have your body whole, you'd still be dead. As you felt your skin itch and your vision turn slowly blurry, Damian's voice echoed in your mind "I will come...I promise...I promise!" His voice was filled with determination, but you knew he'd be late. It was already too late...
They helped you lay down on the alter, the wet veil sticking to your face, slowly suffocating you, but you were too weak to move on your own, your eyes were closed, as if the liquid had sealed your eyelashes together, and the voices around you were turning into distant murmurs, your hands limp as they crossed it on your chest. It was too late...and he hadn't held up to his promise...your lips formed a pout, unable to cry, hardly latching onto the task of breathing, your breaths became labored. Soon your chest would be cut open and your warm paralyzed heart would be put into that golden bowl, and then thrown into a fire...you had hoped things would be different, but you knew from the very start, that you were unwanted, and one day, your family would give you up if they have the chance to do so.
Your ears couldn't detect the loud sound of the explosion of the tear gas in the room, how the cult members shouted and pulled out their weapons but were disarmed quickly by the man in black and a few younger ones. You didn't notice them until someone yanked the wet veil from your face and wiped the clotted liquid off of your nose and mouth, putting an oxygen mask on your face "Y/N!" The voice seemed familiar, but you were too weak to respond "Y/N!" He cried for your attention, his trembling hands shaking your shoulders, his voice muffled by his mask, his hold was pushed away from you when you felt a sharp pain on your neck, the detoxing liquid surged in your veins forward by copious amounts, yet you were already unconscious to see your father cry silently as he held your body close to his chest. Poor girl...poor poor girl...he wished he was there sooner.
Your nanny had pulled the small phone behind her apron with trembling hands, she knew your actions had consequences, but she wanted you to feel happy, so she'd do anything in her power to ensure it'd happen. You quickly snatched the phone out of her calloused hands and started to take the number you had repeated over and over in your mind since the moment you had snuck into your mother's study and had found it deep in her files, it was the Wayne Manor's, where your Damian lived with your father. You were separated since birth, him getting most of the attention of your mother, well the one who was to be her weapon, you were too weak to fight from the very first moments you had started to walk, but still, you tried to have a connection with your twin, who even if neglected your attention or bullied you, still felt a twinge of sibling love deep down. It was not until when he was sent to live by his father that Damian had found out how much he dearly loved you, and how much you meant to him. You dialed the number, hearing it slowly beep, one...two...three...you could hear your nervous breaths into the phone, and four "Hello?" You stiffened at hearing Damian's voice, moving your lips to speak but you couldn't, the sheer luck of having him pick up the phone himself was too much! "Hello?!" Damian's voice turned sour with annoyance, you knew he'd hung up quickly so you finally spoke "Hi..."
"Y/N?!" Damian's voice had turned from annoyed into one of surprise and concern, you spoke softly, asking how he had been doing, smiling as he quickly stammered to answer you, but then, when he was rambling on about missing you, you smiled sadly "Hey...I wanted to tell you something..." you interrupted him "Hmm? What is it?" He had asked with curiosity "Please, forgive me if I've done you anything wrong...okay?" "W-wait...Y/N..what do you? What is happening?!" "Grandpa wants to marry me off...to death..." and there was silence, a very uncomfortable silence. "I will come..." his voice was now filled with determination "I will come, I promise!...w-when's is the ceremony?" "Within two weeks-" the phone had slipped off of your hand when your mother's stinging slap met your face, you turned to look at her with wide eyes, trembling as you heard her crush the phone under her feet.
Your eyes opened up to a white light, with warmth surrounding your body. Were you in heaven? You naively asked yourself, but when the pain washed over your body, you knew you were still alive. "Hi..." Damian's voice made you turn your head to his direction at your side, your neck strained from being motionless for too long. He was holding your hand tightly, and your blurry vision could find the outlines of his face in what you could recognize as crying. "Welcome back..." his voice trembled as he sniffled, adjusting the oxygen mask on your face. You blind a few times to make your vision better, still, it felt a little blurry, but you could at least recognize you were somewhere dark, which you'd find out was the Batcave in the future, and Damian was sitting on your side. Your lips curled upwards slightly at how he held your hand to his chest, looking at you affectionately "Sorry I was late..." he spoke softly "But I will make things right from now on, I promise" he promised, and he would do anything in his power to ensure that.
#yandere#yandere batman#yandere dc#yandere x reader#yandere batfamily#yandere bruce wayne#yandere robin#yandere Damian wayne#yandere bat family#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere batboys
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toothbrush (Seonghwa x fem!reader)
Baby, you don’t have to rush, you can leave your toothbrush at my place.
We don’t have to keep it hush, you can leave your toothbrush at my place.
He’s in love with you, but he doesn’t know how to tell you, so he asks you to leave your toothbrush at his place.
Genre/Warnings: friends to lovers, confessions, fluff, unprotected sex, night before sex, morning sex, cream pies
Word count: 5.5k
A/n: this mf song has been stuck in my head so I gotta write this to get it out of my system.
A little something for ✨ 200 followers ✨
2 SEX SCENES IN 1??? YALL EATING SO GOOD OK 🌶️💯🥵🔥
thank you for the support 🩷 words cannot express how grateful I am for every like, reblog and reply!
You didn’t mean to but there you were again, being irritated and crying from another heartbreak from a relationship that wasn’t even a relationship. It sucked because he seemed like a really nice guy, good even, well, if you squinted hard enough I guess. But still, it didn’t change the fact that it gutted you.
You lie on your friend’s lap, wiping your wet eyes while she snatches your phone to block that scum’s contact number.
“You need to stop doing this to yourself”, she scolds, and you’ve heard it many times from her but love makes you an absolute dumbass.
Seonghwa walks over, his arms folded, evident he heard your sniffling from across the room. You glance at him, tears still watering your eyes because you know he’s about to give you another earful. But the moment he sees you vulnerable like that, he can’t bring himself to do it, and he’s sure you’ve heard a million times, especially from him. He simply sighs and puts an outstretched arm to get you to sit up.
You remain silent as you take his hand gingerly and he pulls you up. He kneels down to your eye level. “I’ll bring you to supper okay? Forget about that son of a bitch.”
You still wear a pout on your face as you sigh and lean forward a little. For a spilt second, Seonghwa is taken aback and pulls back immediately, thinking you were about to kiss him, and his ears grow red very quickly, unnoticed by you, but definitely caught by your friend, who turns away and snickers at the ridiculousness of it all.
Seonghwa immediately stands up and looks away, walking back to whatever he was doing. You slap your cheeks gently before leaving to wash your face in Seonghwa’s bathroom.
The three of you spend the evening playing horrible matches of Super Smash Bros, before your friend decides to leave early, only leaving you and Seonghwa with each other. You excuse yourself to the washroom to freshen up before your supper appointment with Seonghwa and he nods as he attempts to switch off the console.
Just then, your phone lights up and that catches Seonghwa’s attention. He at first decides to merely glance over to check if it was your friend who messaged you, but irritation and annoyance bleeds into his system the moment he sees the Instagram direct message notification, from that exact guy who ghosted you, asking you if you had him blocked on the app the both of you were messaging on.
The fucking audacity of him. Seonghwa could only furrow his eyebrows in complete frustration as he doesn’t want to invade your privacy, even though you gave him your password in case of drinking emergencies. Instead, he simply opts to swipe the notification away, as if it never existed. That barely keeps him satisfied, because he wishes he could just send a “go fuck yourself” to him before blocking him on Instagram as well.
You come back and Seonghwa is standing up, taking his essentials in his pretty hands as he hands you your phone.
You thank him as you receive your phone from him. “Remember to block him”, Seonghwa reminds you out of the blue, only leaving you confused since you did block him already. You don’t question it nonetheless, and go to grab your wallet from your bag.
By then it was almost 11pm, and the both of you settle on a local Vietnamese restaurant for some nice Pho. Seonghwa helps you order the food before you could even iterate yours. You scrunch your eyebrows in curiosity at him.
“Didn’t know you were so nice,” you tease as you receive the utensils from him on instinct. He rolls his eyes. “I’m always nice. You’ve just been accustomed to it.”
“Of course you are. My Park Seonghwa is always the nicest”, you hum, and Seonghwa freezes in his place, his noodles in midair, hanging by the chopsticks he’s suddenly grasping so hard. There it is again, the slow tinting of his ears, that you thought you missed for a spilt second.
Seonghwa obviously opts not to say anything back, letting the words sink as he slurps the noodles. He notices your mood had significantly lightened up the moment you indulged yourself in the meal, and he internally sighs in relief. He lets you run your mouth as he listens intently, just wanting to hear your voice and opinions, at the same getting lost in the gaze of your twinkling eyes. He loved that part of you so much for some reason. It was so addictive to indulge in, and Seonghwa knows, it’s never gonna be enough for him. He hasn’t gotten to a certain point yet, and he’s sort of afraid to because;
One, he doesn’t want to get caught;
Two, he knows if he starts, he’s never going back. A fucking rabbit hole that constantly coos him to step into.
“No dates recently? You ask, as you munch on the meat.”
Seonghwa shakes his head. “Not interested.”
You pull your lips thin, offhandedly thinking his standards must be high.
“Oh right. I need to head to the convenience store to grab some stuff”, you say, reminding yourself aloud. “Shall we?”
Seonghwa nods as you stand up quickly, shocking Seonghwa as you block him from leaving first, as you tunnel to the cashier to pay for the meal. He barely registers what’s going on and the second he does, it’s already too late and he rushes over to you, frustrated that you paid the bill when it was him who suggested the meal.
You roll your eyes playfully at him. “It’s fine Seonghwa. Take it as thanks for making me feel better”, you say patting his cheeks lightly before sliding your card back into your wallet. You and Seonghwa thank the staff before heading to your next destination.
The door rings as he pushes the door open for you and lets you go in first. You immediately head for the toiletries section and Seonghwa spilts to the snacks section.
He’s done picking out his snacks, arms full of chips and cup ramen, as he dumps the small load into the basket. He picks it up and decides to look for you.
And you were there, at the same section. Seonghwa’s curious at what you’re so intently looking at and why you were at the toiletries section to begin with. He assumes at first that you needed sanitary items but as he nears you, he sees that you’re looking at—
“Toothbrushes?” He asks as he leans in closer to take a look.
You nod. “Yeah. About time I get a new one.”
“Get the pair one.” Seonghwa suggests, his hands overlapping and covering yours as he reaches out for the twin pair beside the one you were looking at.
“For what? You need one too?” You ask, turning to face him.
“No”, was all he replies. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for him to continue.
“Soooo, why should I get the twin pack?” You ask again, tilting your head at him. Seonghwa can’t seem to meet your gaze.
And you realise, once again, his ears are slowly turning into a pretty shade of red. But it still doesn’t make sense. The blush creeps to his cheeks slightly, barely noticeable if it wasn’t for the fluorescent lights beating down on the both of you, and the silence only grows more heavier. You hear a small inhales taken by Seonghwa.
“So you can leave one at my place”, he finally responds, his eyes darting from the toothbrushes to your eyes.
Your words are stuck in your throat, completely taken aback. You blink at him.
“Your place?” You reiterate, already slowly tugging the pack.
Seonghwa cuts the eye contact, and he hastily pulls the pack from under your hands and dumps it into the basket. It’s fucking evident—he’s fucking blushing even though he’s keeping a straight face. Nothing is still adding up in your head—like where that even came from, what that even meant.
“Hwa”, you sounded, your hands curling around his arm to get his attention. He flinches slightly at your contact. “What do you mean by that? I don’t stay over-“
“You should stay over tonight since you don’t have anything on tomorrow. It’s late”, he cuts. He’s barely calm as his back is facing you, and he feels himself shaking from the ballsy words that left his mouth. He was so fucking relieved that the only people in store was the both of you. But what made him vocalise those thoughts? He doesn’t know as well. But since he already pushed the suggestion to even leave a fucking toothbrush at his place, he may as well go all out.
A hell lot of thoughts were running through your mind. The reason of asking you to stay over solely because “it’s late”, you both knew it was a fucking lie. But the question still stands—since when?
Then he suddenly backtracks. “I can sleep on the couch. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” That only strengthens your resolve for some reason, only wondering how this impromptu conversation will evolve from here.
“Sure, I’ll crash at your place.”
And Seonghwa doesn’t reply, because he’s struggling to cover his red ass face as he quickens his pace to the cashier, leaving you still stumped behind him. But being the guy Park Seonghwa is, he turns behind and ushers you to follow him, causing a small smile to dance on your lips as you almost skip to his side.
Thank fuck the route back was like a five minutes walk because the both of you don’t say a word—just Seonghwa holding the plastic bag as you tail him, sneaking glances at him as he covers his lips with the back of his palm.
“You’re blushing a hell lot, Park Seonghwa”, you point out, intentionally nearing his face. His palm flattens on his cheek, and then lowers to his neck and he sighs. “I know”, he replies, finally able to crack a small smile the moment his eyes meet yours. He can’t help it. Deep inside, he’s still bewildered that you agreed to stay over.
Seonghwa dumps his stuff on the dining table and starts digging for your toothbrush, knowing you are gonna ask for it the moment you remove your shoes. Before you could even ask, he whips the toiletry out right into your hands.
“Thanks bro”, you say, taking the item from him. And from the corner of your eye, you see a pout form on his face, and that only elicits a small chuckle from you as you tear open the packaging to take one out.
“Do you have spare towels?” You ask.
“I’ll grab some for you, and a shirt too”, Seonghwa replies as he leaves the vicinity, a little too quickly, as he snatches one of the toothbrushes already in your hand.
A few minutes pass and Seonghwa emerges from the bathroom and gestures for you to go in when you’re ready. “It’s on the sink. Be careful okay? Call out my name if you need anything.”
You nod as you disappear into the bathroom.
And then Seonghwa’s composure completely dissipates the moment you close the door. Red flushes his neck and ears again as he sits on the couch, covering his face with both palms. Fuck, he can’t believe this is happening. He’s not expecting anything obviously because he doesn’t know how you feel about him, and he doesn’t want to push it. But undoubtedly, the thought of you being in the same vicinity as him, is sending him into a spiral.
“Fuck me”, he sighs, leaning back into the couch, his face under his arm, feeling his blush not going away.
You leave the bathroom after fifteen, agonising minutes, and Seonghwa is relieved he lent you his boxers because he wouldn’t know what he would have done if you came out just in his shirt and your underwear.
“I’m done. I’m going into the room first. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I’m fine with sharing a bed with you”, you tell him before disappearing with your phone. Seonghwa’s thoughts grow hazy because the situation is just escalating and his mind is slowly creeping into areas where he had promised not to seep into. Maybe it was the comfort he gave you because he always looked out for you ever since the both of you grew close and that you knew he would never hurt you, but it’s reaching a fever pitch at this point and he doesn’t know how much more he can take because his crush on you is that fucking bad.
He emerges from the bathroom, his hair wet and dripping, in the cutest matching silk grey pyjamas you finally see him wear in real life since you’ve only seen once through discord. Fuck he’s so adorable, like he’s totally prepared for bed already. He climbs into bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he drinks the look of you in his clothes. It was almost dream-like in his eyes.
“I finally get to see you in those cute pjs”, you tease. “Maybe I should get a set too.”
Seonghwa snuggles to a comfortable position, since the bed isn’t too big, and you feel his knee bump onto yours. You turn to face him, and he feels himself melt under your gaze.
“Park Seonghwa,” you call out, snapping him out of his little day dream, and he straightens his back in attention. “What’s up with you?”
Seonghwa doesn’t answer, and it’s evident he’s getting nervous. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek and you shut your eyes as you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin.
“It’s you. It’s always been you”, Seonghwa suddenly confesses, removing his hands from your face.
Your heart bursts into thousands of butterflies at his response. You don’t know how you never noticed it, but now that he’s mentioned it, you realise the soft spots he seemed to have for you, which you brushed off his actions as how he’s always been with other people, now more evident as it floats to the surface.
For a moment, you don’t know how to feel because it was all so sudden. But the more Seonghwa’s sinks into your brain, the more you feel yourself falling—fast. And now the both of you are staring at each other in the dark, on the same bed, sharing the silence between the both of you.
“I think it would devastate me if you didn’t like me back”, Seonghwa breaks the silence, as a small laugh escapes his lips. “But it’s fine. I don’t-“
Your hands cup the male’s lips, and his eyes widen in surprise, wondering if he said anything wrong.
“Seonghwa. Stop talking.”
His heart races, bracing for a rejection, only to feel a pair of hands cup his cheek as you lean in and press your lips against his.
Seonghwa feels himself falling apart as his hands snake to the side of your head, his lips parting, desperate to taste all of you as he closes the distance between the both of you. He becomes more aggressive as every second passed, craving for every part of you. The smell of his body soap on you engulfs him entirely and can’t help but turn into mush against your lips.
As he pulls back and drinks the sight of you heaving softly and eyes hooded, he moves above you, his hands trailing up and down your body as he dives in for another hungry kiss. He’s still not processing it—the fact that he confessed to you at the heat of the moment, the fact that you kissed him and the fact that he’s above you right now.
His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips and you part your lips—something he doesn’t expect—as his thumb slides down past your lips as you stick your tongue out shyly and he’s aroused by the whole scene.
“Could I-?” He asks, trying to keep his cool. You take his hand and lick his thumb, sending electricity right to Seonghwa’s dick, which is hardening very quickly above you.
“Please do. Anything, if it’s with you”, you sigh, your arousal burning you up. Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat as he pulls his shirt off and your breathe quickens at how scrumptious his body looks. Fuck, his tits look amazing. You absentmindedly reach out to feel them and boy, did they feel so good. Seonghwa’s face contorts into one of pleasure as a whimper escapes his lips. Your eyes flicker to meet his and a small smile appears on your lips. You don’t realise what he’s doing until his hands snake under your oversized tee and he cups your tits in return, causing you to squeal in pleasure as he pinches your nipples tenderly. “That feels good, Hwa”, you whimper, trying to hide your shyness. He takes it as a signal to lift the shirt up and over your head, your bare chest fully exposed to him now. His breath hitches because never in a million years would he have thought it would be right before him like that. He still cannot fathom it.
He cups your tits as he goes down and sucks on your nipple, causing you to arch your back in reaction as a cry leaves your body. Your fingers tug on his hair gently and this time, he whimpers. His eyes slowly open as he soaks in the view of you, face contorted with pleasure as he sucks and kisses your tits. He can’t get enough.
His hands soon leave your chest, giving you a moment to catch your breath, but you realise it’s because he’s palming his crotch—his dick just erected and pushing against his silk pants, which were starting to get stained from his precum.
“Come here”, you gesture, and he moves in closer, his gaze never leaving yours, wanting to immerse himself with you. You have him leaning against the pillows that were propped up, and you move in for another gentle, open mouthed kiss. He immediately reciprocates, sighing into your mouth lovingly as he cups your cheek while he palms his clothed erection.
You straddle him, and your pussy is just above his erection. A little bit of teasing wouldn’t hurt, you think as you grind up his clothed dick. Seonghwa stares down at your pussy as the wetness continues to pool and leak through your clothes with heavy breaths. The friction from the layers is making him whine. It’s not enough. Seonghwa wants more. But oh gods, did it feel so good. He stops you when he can’t take it anymore.
“Please, y/n. Need to be in you”, he begs, squeezing your thighs. “It’s not enough.”
You pull back and tug on his waistbands, pulling off both his pants and his boxers, staring at the string of wetness between his cockhead and his undergarment. His cock twitches at the contact and more precum oozes from his tip.
Seonghwa is definitely feeling shy but the horniness is just overpowering him at this point.
And you were not gonna let it go just yet.
You give him small strokes and he fucks into your hand, and whines. You never knew Seonghwa to be the greedy type but from the way he’s begging—twitching and whining to be fucked—it definitely gave you a new perspective.
“Are you ready?” You ask, stroking his jaw.
He nods a little too quickly, his gaze locking onto yours as you position his cockhead to your entrance and sink down.
It was a fucking treat—watching Seonghwa’s face contort into absolute euphoria, eyebrows scrunching together, more whimpers and whines escaping his lips alongside your name.
Your cunt finally swallows his cock whole and Seonghwa’s hand trembles slightly as he lets himself soak in the warmth of your pussy.
Your fingers go around his jaw as you lift his chin up to face you.
“You’re not gonna cum yet right?”
His eyes look so glazed as he shakes his head frantically. You lean in and kiss his jaw. “I’m gonna start moving”, you mutter, loud enough so that he could hear, and he nods.
You lift your hips off and slam down, the pleasure buzzing through the both of you as you begin bouncing on his cock. Seonghwa fights the urge to shut his eyes as his fingers grip your thighs.
“Mm, so good. So fucking good, y/n. Fuck. More, please.” He begs. “You feel so fucking amazing.”
On the other hand, you felt as euphoric as well, his cock hitting you in all right places. You lean in to rest your head on Seonghwa’s shoulders as you do your best to fuck into Seonghwa’s cock. The sounds were so pornographic—squelching and wet skin slapping non stop—only keeping the momentum going.
You were starting to lose grip on reality as well, the only thing that settled in your mind was the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just being shoved deep in you. Soon enough, his hands move to your ass, lifting it before pushing it down, loving how your cunt just devours his cock whole like that. He doesn’t forget to pull you in and stick soft kisses against your neck and temples every time you lower yourself on his dick, exacerbating the tickling that flushed in your cunt. Your mind slowly melts into mush every time Seonghwa’s melodic moans burn straight into your ear.
Your hands cup both sides of his face as you tilt his head to face you. His eyes were half-lidded, and his lips parted, and he’s trying to regulate his breathing as his eyes focus on yours. You hear your heart hammer in your ears. You never realised how fucking gorgeous he actually looks.
“You put Aphrodite to shame, you know?” You suddenly break the silence. Seonghwa grows red again. He attempts to look away but your hands aren’t letting him. “You’re so fucking pretty.” And he hardens right beneath you, his neck fully flushing red now.
You turn to nip and kiss his neck this time, and his breath gets caught in his throat, now small sobs leaving him. The orgasmic feeling begins chasing you as you feel yourself squeeze around him, and undoubtedly, Seonghwa feels it too, judging by how erratically he’s rutting into you.
“Fuck, Hwa, I’m cumming”, you crack, as you sink so fucking deep into his cock, feeling his cockhead just dragging along your cunt, that his fingers are leaving light imprints on your thighs.
“So fucking deep-“ he pants, just before his face seeps into another realm of pleasure when your orgasm bursts in waves and you are clawing his arms, barely keeping it together as the pleasure washes over you. Your eyes are rolled back, eyebrows scrunched as only Seonghwa’s name leaves your lips over and over.
Seonghwa’s hands curl around your jaw as he brings your lips to his, kissing you hard through your orgasm, and your mouth hangs open, still fucked out from the pleasure. You’re pretty sure you creamed so much on his cock at this point, but you were too much in euphoria to care.
In between wet kisses, he winces, “I’m cumming too”. Without much of a warning, his cock twitches in you, and he shoots ropes of hot cum right into your hole as he groans into your neck, right at your fucking ear. His grip moves to your hair as he tugs gently as he empties himself in you.
As the high dies down, the only sounds in the room were you and Seonghwa’s pants. You were the first to break the tension with a soft laugh.
“Oh god Seonghwa, I think I’m in love with you.”
Seonghwa blinks, not expecting those words to leave your mouth. He wants to grab you and kiss you so hard till you fight for air but he holds back, kissing the shell of your ear before whispering, “you don’t know how long I’ve been in love with you.” You pull back, covering your ear, your turn to blush.
You lift yourself off him, feeling his cum leak out of you as you wince. Seonghwa is fighting every nerve in his body to look away but his gaze stays glued onto the way his cum oozes out of you, his heartbeat turning up a notch.
You head to the bathroom to clean up and so does Seonghwa. He washes his hands and combs through your hair with a hairbrush delicately, and you realise you’re falling way too fucking hard for him.
He takes your hand and leads you back to the bed, where he pulls the covers open for you to climb in as you snuggle into his warmth.
The warmth of the sun kisses against your skin as you stir awake. Seonghwa faces you, his hair tussled against the pillow and his lashes splay prettily on his face. You can’t help but stroke his face gently, smiling to yourself.
Seonghwa’s eyes flutter open and he soaks the figure of you looking at him fondly. He definitely blushes but you could tell he was more confident and it shows at the way he presses a soft kiss onto your palm.
“Morning, Angel”, he greets. Your heart flutters at the pet name.
“Good morning Hwa”, you reply, this time it was you feeling shy.
“So, have I upgraded from a “bro” already?”he asks, poking your cheek.
You roll your eyes, wondering how he even remembered that. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t think I could be with anyone else but you.”
Seonghwa’s grin spread wide as he covers his face with the covers. You separate yourself from him and he follows your movements as you leave the bed to wash up.
Seonghwa stares at you speechless as you pull your panties from your ass with your thumbs right in front of you as you leave for the bathroom, and his breath is knocked out of him when he remembers that that you left his boxers somewhere on the bed, and that you slept in with his shirt and your panties. He wets his lips as he decides to get out and follow you.
He enters the small bathroom and admires the way his shirt hangs off your shoulders and the way you’re just leaning into the mirror as you brush your teeth. He walks over and intentionally bumps into you playfully, and you frown at him, mouth still covered in foamed toothpaste. He takes his toothbrush from the holder, presses a small amount of toothpaste onto his toothbrush.
There was something strangely calming about just standing together, side by side, brushing teeth. The cute moment definitely did last, until Seonghwa’s gaze wanders down to your ass.
And suddenly his dick is hard against his pyjama pants, and you were too caught up on washing your face and checking the mirror to notice it.
Seonghwa continues to stare at you as you wash the toothbrush and fit it in the holder, and the thought of you and your toothbrush being a permanent part of his household, sent his brain into a frenzy. You were his, undoubtedly.
He finishes up his teeth brushing duties, letting his toothbrush sit opposite yours. You don’t realise he’s behind you until you a feel a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, causing you to squeal.
“Babe, what-“ and your question is cut short when begins pepper kisses on the nape of your neck, sending electricity down your spine as you shiver.
In between hungry kisses, his gaze pins you from the reflection in the mirror and you freeze. “I’m sorry Angel, but seeing you look that first thing in the morning… I can’t help myself.”
And you feel his erection just pressing between your legs. You turn your face to side, your lips pressed to his ear as you whisper softly, “then help yourself, Seonghwa.” It sends goosebumps down Seonghwa, and for a spilt second, his eyes look crazed at your invitation.
He doesn’t even bother to pull your panties off, he only pulls it to the side, and the cold air hits your exposed cunt as you wince. Seonghwa pushes his fingers past your lips and then plunges it into your heat as your grip on the sink tightens, feeling the pressure of his fingers digging into you so well.
Seonghwa doesn’t wait—he can’t wait. He fucking needs you, and he needs you now. He pulls quickly after determining that your pussy stretched enough (no thanks to yesterday’s session) he lets his pants and boxers drop to his ankles, exposing his thick and heated cock, which was sleeked with precum as he pumps himself.
Seonghwa then drags you slightly backwards and positions himself his cock dives into you, and your back arches as you gasp. Fuck, you don’t remember his cock was this thick even though the both of you just fucked the night before. You feel so fucking full just by Seonghwa’s dick pressing against every area of your nerves. He doesn’t give you any more time to adjust as he starts fucking you, making sure each slap against your cunt was heard loud and fucking clear within the constraints of the bathroom. Your moans are choked in your throat as Seonghwa’s hand pushes your chin up to look right at the mirror before the both of you. Your hair is a in mess from the bed hair, your lips coated in your spit from the arousal and your eyes are half-lidded from the endless amount of pleasure Seonghwa was fucking into you.
“Look at you, so fucked out, yet so beautiful. All mine. All fucking mine”, he hums into your ears and you can’t help but squeeze his cock in response to how he’s making you feel. You don’t know where the sudden possessiveness came from, but it’s not like you didn’t mind. You would submit yourself perfectly to him.
“So good, babe. Fuuuuck”, you draw out your moans. You don’t know how much longer you could hold yourself up when he’s fucking into you so hard like that. Every time he pushes in, it was a dopamine rush in your cunt. He was about to fuck you dumb and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Such a good Angel, creaming for me like this”, he praises as he looks at his cock when he pulls out, full of your arousal just leaking off his cock, before shoving his cock in again, pushing more moans and cries out of you.
“Hwa, please, I’m close. Gonna cum”, you pant, feeling your cunt spazzing around his dick. He definitely feels it too because he grabs your chin to face him as he devours you in a hungry kiss, trying to keep the momentum.
“You can let go, Angel. You can do it for me”, he says, stroking the sides of your face, and by some kind of miracle of timing, your orgasm washes over you, your cunt fluttering, which makes Seonghwa groan in bliss as he feels his cock being squeezed perfectly.
He leans into you, pushing you further down against the sink, as he begins to rut into you. “Cumming. Fuck”, he barely responds, engulfed in his own realm of pleasure as he ruts in a couple more times before his cock empties out in you, so much that some seeps out of your sore cunt, trickling down your thighs and some straight up dripping onto the bathroom floor.
Seonghwa takes a minute to gather himself as he pulls out gingerly, wincing at the sensitivity. He straightens you up, and pulls you into his arms as he presses another kiss onto your forehead. He steps out of his soiled clothing and helps you out of yours, as the both of you go on to shower together.
“What the heck got into you?” You ask, as you help him lather the soap on his broad back which you forced yourself not to excessively gawk at.
“You just looked too good. Like I said, I couldn’t help it.” And he’s so glad that he’s not facing you right now.
You laugh, pressing against his sides playfully, making him squeal as he faces you in surprise.
“I get that you’re embarrassed but you know it’s okay to look at me right?” You say, poking his chest—also definitely something you wanted to explore. Seonghwa pouts at you, and then his face relaxes.
“Y/n. I like you. No, I’m actually fucking in love with you”, he suddenly says, which only makes you cock an eyebrow.
“About fucking time you said it”, you reply, rubbing your arms up with more body wash. You look up at him with mischievous expression. “My toothbrush isn’t going anywhere, babe”, you tease, giving him a small peck on his lips before blasting him with the shower head.
#Spotify#ateez scenarios#ateez#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#smut#ateez fic#ateez seonghwa#y/n x seonghwa#seonghwa#park Seonghwa#Seonghwa smut#ateez fluff#kpop smut
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Headcanon with TF141 & König with Fem! Reader who had amnesia after loss blood from battlefield and how would the mens react. Pls!
Oof ouchie owie my heart 😭 this is so mean I love it 😭😭😭😭 (I’m not crying YOU’RE crying)
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
When the nurse told him you suffered amnesia due to the severity of your injuries, he didn’t want to believe it. He refused. Even though they told him it could last a few minutes to several weeks or months, he didn’t want to believe it.
So he went to visit you, sat beside your bed, balaclava twisting nervously in his hands as he watched you sleep. He eventually dozed off, arms crossed over his chest, head resting back against the wall. He woke up to a soft prodding at his shoulder,
“Excuse me, are you the nurse?” You’d asked, throat hoarse and exhaustion evident.
“Who do you think I am?” He asked, his heart beat so hard in his throat, his stomach churning and heavy, he felt violently ill
“I… don’t know to be honest. I’m not sure why or how I got here.” Your voice was small and uncertain and fuck he wanted to cry. His eyes burned and his throat threatened to shut.
What should he do? Tell you what happened and risk further trauma? He’s the reason you were out here in the first place. What’s the right thing to do? What would you do in his position?
“Sir? I’m sorry, I’m just really thirsty. I’m sorry to bug you.”
“Don’t sweat it, here, have my water.” He uncapped his water bottle and got up to bring it to your lips, you took it from his hands before he could tip it back,
“I’ve got it, thank you.” You said with a weak chuckle. At least that’s still the same. He watched you drink your water, weighing his options in his head. If the roles were reversed, you’d be honest with him. Gentle, but firm. Even if it pained you, you’d tell him the truth.
“I’m sorry, have we met before?”
He was a both a coward and glutton for pain.
“You can call me Ghost, for now.”
He still wasn’t sure if he’d tell you about all the nights spent together, all the mornings you had breakfast in the mess hall together, your apartment that you shared, the tattoo he has under his collarbone of your callsign or the matching one you got of a skull on your hip. This could be his chance to spare you the pain of sticking around him any longer.
But he’s selfish, in that sense. He’s had you, he can’t lose you now.
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
He’s devastated. He’s absolutely heartbroken, there’s no way this is happening. He’s convinced it’s not real. It’s a bad dream and he’ll wake up in your arms and it’ll be gone. How he wishes that was true.
He comes into your room, the nurses words echoing in his head, triggering his tinnitus, making him nauseous. His legs are horribly unsteady and his hands have never shook this hard. He feels like such a fool for being so fucking weak in front of you like this.
This isn’t about him, it’s about you. It’s all about you, it’s about setting things right with you, it’s about bringing you back to him. It’s all about you.
He sat beside your bed and waited for you to wake up, and when you did you smiled so wide when you looked at him, that he honestly believed the nurses were wrong
“This might be wildly inappropriate, but you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
God how he wished the nurses were wrong.
“Could say the same for you, love.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and stamped out the ache in his chest
“Love?” You blinked in confusion, “are you my- oh god, I’m sorry, I… I don’t remember.”
“It’s alright, the nurses said it could happen. You’ve been through a lot.”
“If I’m here then, yeah, seems like.” You chuckled dryly,
“I’m Johnny.” He held his hand out to yours, you took it and couldn’t help how soothing his palm felt against yours as you introduced yourself shyly.
He could be strong. For you. He’d do anything for you, whether you wound up remembering or not, it didn’t matter. He’d do anything.
John Price:
He’s shell shocked. Please god no. Not you. Please sweet fucking Christ, not you. He doesn’t go to see you right away, he sits in his office quietly. He’s sitting in the dark, replaying the events that led up to this over and over in his head like a fucked movie on loop.
He snaps. He’s flinging everything off his desk, it’s all flying to the floor, he’s screaming, crying, raging. The team hears it and they all run to his office, Ghost is the only one to successfully hold him back. He eventually gives up and starts sobbing. Perception be damned.
He’s clutching onto Simon like his life depends on it, Soap and Gaz quietly start picking stuff up off the floor,
“Come on, mate, she needs you. Clean up and go.” He’s not stupid. He’s seen you two, seen the way you are with one another. It’s the best kept secret of the 141.
“I know. Fuck, I know.”
He hesitantly walks to your room, his heart pounding a mile a minute, he hears you talking to the nurse and you sound a little hoarse but it also sounds like you’re drinking water. He waits until you’re done talking and walks in, he steps aside to let the nurse walk out and sits beside you,
“How’re you feelin’?”
“Not great but the pain meds help.” You laughed weakly, “and you must be?”
“John.”
“John…?”
“Just John.” He sighed, slowly taking one of your small hands in his, giving you every opportunity to withdraw, “Your John.”
He’s a patient man. He can wait.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:
He’s in tears before the nurse even has a chance to walk away, Price has a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in an attempt to keep him grounded
“None of that, Gaz, just go see her. Somewhere in her heart, she’ll be happy to see you.” His words were reassuring and it helped give him the boost he needed to go and see you.
So he did, with an arm full of flowers, your favorite snack and candies, and fruits of course. He came in and set them down at the table quietly, watching you watch him as he did so. He took a deep shaky breath and pulled the chair up to the bed.
“Is that all for me?” You asked with a shy smile, even under the unflattering glow of the fluorescent lights above you, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen,
“Yup. I thought if I’d brought you the things you like, it might help you recover your memory.” He swallowed his tears, swallowed the lump in the throat, he’d set it all aside because there’s work to be done.
“I take it you and I are quite close then?”
“As close as two people can get, without being related.”
“Hm. That makes me happy, you seem really sweet…?”
“Kyle. Or Gaz. But you’ve always called me by my name.”
His heart skipped a beat when you tried his name out, getting a feel for it on your tongue, and then you smiled softly at him.
It’ll be hard work but fuck you’re so worth it.
König:
He feels violently ill. He’s nauseous through and through, he’s in shock, he’s grieving, he’s mourning, he’s furious, he’s appalled, he’s miserable
It’s all playing over and over and over and over again, the exact moments that led up to this. You trusted him and let you down. He fucking let you down. He ruined it. He ruined the one good thing he had going for him in this shithole. It’s gone it’s all fucking gone. And it’s all his fault.
All of that was repeating in his head as he punched a hole in the tile in the bathrooms, it repeated when he’d try to sleep until you woke up, it repeated while he’d wait for you, it repeated until there was nothing but self-inflicted venom pumping in his system, circulating mercilessly
And then you woke up. He’d at least had the presence of mind to take his veil off so he wouldn’t startle you, but in his vitriol he forgot something,
“You’ve got a little something on your uh… all of that.” You sleepily laughed, pointing at your eyes,
“Ah yes, that’s intentional.”
“Why?” You blinked in confusion, weakly trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes,
“Helps keep me concealed when I wear this.” He lifted the veil in his hands for you to see,
“I imagine it’s hard to do with your size.”
“It can be but I’m quite determined.”
“You seem upset, I take it you and I are close and the nurses told you?”
He gently took your small hand in his, his eyes watering, lower lip starting to quiver,
“Oh schatz, you have no idea.” His voice shook and your heart broke for him, his accent brought you peace even if you couldn’t exactly remember why, you could still put the pieces together. You don’t know why, but you wanted to be strong for him,
“Then give me an idea.”
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#könig x reader#konig x reader#cod x reader#mw2 x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod headcanons
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Hey! Can I request prompt #1 with Charles Leclerc? Like I can totally see him being a little confused and goofy in a steamy situation lol
seduction gone wrong - cl16
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: in where charles tried to seduce you and it goes horribly wrong
word count: 1.5k
warnings: smut with a plot, p in v (wrap it before you tap it, kids), oral (f. and m. receiving), alcohol drinking, some blood (-play idk), aftercare, minors dni, thank you :)
prompt: „do you want me to seduce you?“
note: sorry love, that you had to wait so long for your request, but here it is, hope you like it
and omg, thank you so much for 500 followers, i never thought i would reach that many people with my silly little stories. i am forever grateful for all of you, i mean it! <3
masterlist/ taglist / prompt list
It was a long day and you were tired, unbelievable tired. Everything sucked and nothing went the way you wanted it to. You just wanted to come home and have a good time with Charles, your boyfriend.
Your neck ached, your back hurt and all you wished for was a massage and an orgasm. But Charles, the man he was, didn’t really understand your wish.
You opened the door and smelled the food Charles probably ordered. He knew how to cook but mostly opted to deliver food to your home. „Charles, love, I’m home“, you announced yourself as you took off your shoes and jacket.
„In the kitchen“, he yelled back at you and you went to greet your boyfriend. He was standing there, with his back leaned against the kitchen island, looking devilishly handsome. You almost purred as your hands grinned his broad shoulders and gave him a quick, but meaningful kiss.
„Hey baby, how was your day?“, he asked you. At the thought of your day, the mood was ruined. „Ugh, it was the worst“, you whined and hoped Charles would grab on to your appeal. But with your lucky day, he didn’t. „Is it a glass of wine kinda day?“, he asked you, eyebrows raised. You sighed, no, it was a fuck me till i can’t walk kinda day, you thought.
Charles didn’t wait for your answer and opened the fridge to open you a bottle of white wine. The glass was already propped on the counter and he filled it to the brim. You were thankful for all the things he did for you, but you wished he would just the hint you were giving him.
„Thank you, chéri.“ You gave him a quick peck and took a large sip of your wine. He rubbed your shoulders and you moaned, just a tiny one, but you still did. But Charles didn’t register the moan and carried on.
„I ordered Chinese, are you hungry?“ - „A bit, yes. Thank you, Charlie.“
The plates were already on the table, so was the takeout bag. You took your glass to the table and sat down at your usual spot. He ordered himself some fried rice with chicken and for you some dumplings.
You weren’t talking during dinner, but he was telling you about his day - training, some time in the simulator, he met up with his race engineers and did a fitting for a new seat. His day was way better than yours.
The food didn’t help your needs and desires. You still wanted that orgasm and his mouth on yours. So you took matters into your own hands. „Charles, you look really good today“, you complimented him and batted your eyelids. „Thank you, amour, you too“, he said with a cheerful voice.
„Charles, I want something from you“, you whispered. You looked into his beautiful eyes and tried to look as sexy as possible. „What do you want?“ How can one man be so oblivious? „Charles, I need something from you.“ - „Mhm, yeah, you told me that. But I can’t do anything until you tell me what it is?“
You bit your lip, you loved him, really, he was the love of your life, but right at this moment, you could’ve kicked him to the moon. „Charles?“ - „Yes?“ - „I need you.“ You let out a breathy moan. Your voice quiet and shaky you look at him with lust in your eyes.
„Do you want me to seduce you?“
„That’s exactly what I want, Charles“, you thanked him and he grinned. He left the table and wanted to make his way over to you but in the heat of the moment he didn’t see your wine glass and pushed it over with his arm. The wine spilled all over the table and the floor and the glass broke in millions of pieces. Charles hurried to clean up the mess and crouched down to pick up the pieces. But you were too hungry for him to stop his mission.
You grabbed him by his shirt and said: „I don’t care about some spilled wine, I’d rather you make me overflow like that.“
You licked over your lips and he kissed you. He still tasted the white wine on your lips and groaned into the kiss. „Charles, I really need you“, you told him. He pursed his lips, he tried to be dominant and seductive, but with his luck he cut his hand trying to stand up. He hissed and immediately put his hand into his mouth.
But you were sick, rather than being worried about him you imagined his mouth against your pussy, sucking and licking as he did right now to stop the blood from dropping onto the floor. You took his hand to your mouth and sucked the blood and kissed the wound. „Now can we finally go to the bedroom?“
Charles was star struck, amazed by you. How can one woman be so perfect, so perfect for him? You were the love of his life.
On the way to your bedroom your clothing fell and he was on his way to do the same. Naked on your bed you waited for the love boy to devour you. „Bébé, wait a minute, I just need to find a condom“, he shouted from the hallway. You groaned, „Charles, please, I just need you, I don’t care about a silly condom, put a baby in me anyway.“
It just came out of you, did you actually want a baby from him? Yes, but certainly not now. Charles didn’t catch the phrase anyway, too caught up in still searching for a condom. He gave up shortly after that.
His naked torso and his v-line made you sweat. You pressed your thighs together to gain some friction. If Charles didn’t give you any attention, you had to do it yourself.
You fingers in your mouth to wet them some, even though you were already drenched. They trailed down your body, your mouth opened, a shaky breath released. Your index finger circled your right nipple. Occasionally pinching it. Charles was still focused on something else. „Don’t start without me, chérie“, he absently whispered, head turned to the ground.
You giggled and that’s when he finally looked up, your fingers in your pussy, pumping in and out. Your thumb pressed to your clit. He gasped. How could you start without him? Traitor. He walked up to you with lustful eyes. He crawled to your body and removed your fingers from your pussy.
You heard him inhale your scent. Suddenly you felt him lick a stripe up your pussy. You moaned his name, surprised by his sudden horniness. His mouth still on you, sucking and licking. Your clit inside his mouthy His fingers gripping your thighs, half moons left on your skin. He teased you. You felt his light beard scratch your inner thigh, his hands now snaked they’re way around to your ass and squeezed it. „Charles please“, you moaned, you wanted some release.
He suddenly stopped and smirked up to you. You threw your head back. His trousers were gone in an instant, so were his boxers. His tip was red and swollen. Leaking with pre cum it never looked more delicious. „Baby“, you looked him up and down, „let me please taste you.“
On your stomach now, you licked a stripe up from his belly up to his tip. His shaft thick and pulsating, you couldn’t wait to feel it in your mouth. His pre cum was licked up by you and it tasted salty and just like Charles. You moaned. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside. Hollowing your cheeks you swallowed him whole. His head was thrown back and he groaned, loud.
Your head bobbed up and down his dick. Feeling him twitch and pulsate was your favourite feeling all time. He grabbed your hair and held you down, so you were deep throating him. „Stop, mon dieu my god, I want to be inside you“, he groaned and pulled you off his cock.
As you rearranged and dipped into your wet and warm folds he moaned. And you moaned. „Let them all hear who makes you feel so good, ma chérie“, he whispered into your ears. His rhythm fast and deep. He hit your spot every thrust. You were in heaven, your bad day long forgotten.
He pushed down onto your lower abdomen and said: „I can feel myself, look how good I fill you up, feel it.“ That gave you the rest. The tight know that formed in your stomach exploded and you came with Charles name in your mouth. Soon after Charles came too, after he helped you ride out your orgasm.
He held you in his arms, softly stroking over your naked skin. He got up and brought you a cold glass of water and a lukewarm cloth to clean you up. Slowly he cleaned you up, from head to toes. When he was finished, he kissed you slowly and with lots of emotion.
„I love you, dear“, you whispered and kissed him again. „I love you much more, chérie“, he said and closed his eyes, holding you.
°°°
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#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#f1 smut#filthy stuff#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you
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