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#emotional and physical stumbling

whataboutthreateninganass · 10 months

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arthur: “my father didn’t strut.”

babes your father was not only PLAYED BY ANTHONY HEAD, but was also seen, on multiple occasions, gaming on his hot pink nintendo ds in the middle of tournament fights, ANDDD dramatically swishing his cloak every time he exited a conversation

this man STRUTTED through the castle corridors like he owned the place 🤨

#strutting and sashaying otw to an execution 🥰#he strutted so arthur could stumble #emotional and physical stumbling #i should clarify that while is was a powerful pussy pop strut #it was also a tyrannical strut #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #merlin bbc #fuck uther #uther pendragon #my father didn’t strut #james potter

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astarlightmonbebe · 8 months

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episode 5 has left me considering the different - and similar - ways taeyoung and kwonsook think about themselves, and how they respond to pain/violence.

kwonsook calls herself a monster, someone who goes crazy in the boxing ring. that monster, she says, was created by her father, and her father used abuse, violence, and emotional manipulation to create that monster. he didn’t treat her like human, so it’s no surprise that the way she talks about herself when she boxes is as if she’s discussing an animal: she gets cornered, gets scared for her life, and lashes out to kill. she calls herself a monster with resignation; it’s not what she wanted to be, but she knows it’s what she was. she ran away to escape that monstrosity, to live as a human, doing good things, but that part of her never really died.

taeyoung, too, calls himself a monster. he’s a SOB, he does thing no one with an ounce of humanity would do. he seemingly has no qualms about what he does, perhaps because he can always justify it to himself, always has an exit prepared for when things really get bad (until, i’m sure, he doesn’t). like kwonsook, taeyoung accepts the label of monster, accepts his own inhumanity, even if they are inhuman in very different ways. whereas kwonsook wants to break away from that monstrous part of her - she’s only returned so she can free herself from that part of herself permanently (and if she finds a way to box without a monster, then...) - taeyoung embraces it. it’s through being a monster that he’s found success, how he secures futures for his athletes, and how he’s able to ‘solve’ their (and his) issues. monstrosity was not imposed on taeyoung, but (due to what we know so far) is something he chose for himself (although the factors surrounding this part of his past are decidedly murky).

in this episode, taeyoung and kwonsook also demonstrate similar responses to violence and (emotional) pain. when taeyoung upsets kwonsook by working with her father behind her back, he offers her an outlet for her anger by punching him. later on, after ahreum has already slapped kwonsook, instead of lashing out, kwonsook offers to let ahreum hit her again if it will make her feel better. in parallel responses, both ahreum and kwonsook debate taking that opportunity to hurt, but decide not to (kwonsook because she’s taking a chance on taeyoung, or moreso giving him another one, and ahreum because she decides that she doesn’t owe kwonsook that, that kwonsook is beneath her in terms of boxing, no longer on her level).

kwonsook learned to respond to pain at a young age. in boxing, you can’t flinch from the hit - you have to learn how to take the pain, absorb it, and get back up to hit again. outside of the rink, kwonsook absorbs the pain, but she doesn’t hit again. she’s experienced firsthand what her hits can do to people, and that terrified her. after all, she only boxed so that she could protect her mother. so when confronted with violence and pain, she takes the hit, because pain is what she knows and understands. it’s the emotions behind it that are hard for her. pain is easy for kwonsook, because she’s used to living through it, surviving it; beneath it, she’s always empty. she’s never really cared about boxing; it was what she had to do. the lee kwonsook that was a boxing genius was a monster she ran from, after all. but in order to break away from that monster, she has to come to understand the emotional investment of her fellow female boxers. before, they were just her opponents, never her friends, but now she has to face their own feelings about the sport, the passion they have for boxing that she never felt. like ara said, she didn’t feel happiness about winning, and kwonsook has never lost, so she’s never had to live with that humiliation, either. how her feelings will change in relation to boxing will likely be a reckoning for her.

taeyoung, on the other hand, is confronting his fair share of non-boxing sanctioned boxing. even though kwonsook is the boxer, it’s taeyoung who’s been touched by ‘true’ violence in this present timeline. his life is quite literally on the line, which has been shown again and again. he’s been ambushed by her father, threatened, blackmailed, and beaten up by chairman nam’s guys. he lives on the edge, anxious at every shadow, which is chewing him alive. to him, kwonsook’s anger is much easier to deal with. he knows she might hurt him, but his potential to hurt her is so much more (and if he does, in that case he’d find her anger justified, and probably let her beat him to death or something if what we’ve seen of his feelings for her is an indication of anything), and she might hurt him, but she’d never hurt him as much as other people in his life at the moment would (i.e. by killing him, or hurting the people he cares about). taeyoung is used to weathering the storm of other people’s dislike; he’s the scumbag, and he does bad things, deserves other people’s anger when it’s directed at him.

both taeyoung and kwonsook want to resolve things through violence. i think it’s telling that despite being two emotionally aware people, they both consider other people’s feelings to be so easily taken care of. they want the quick, instant pain, and then they want to get it over with. because the violence is what they’re used to, and to a degree it’s what they both think they deserve. however, what lies beneath that, what doesn’t go away with a single hit, is much harder for them to confront and understand.

#star stumbles #my lovely boxer #kdrama #my thoughts #in boxing you get hit and you hit someone else and whoever is still standing wins #and it's basically that way in the whole world of (physical) sports #and it's going to be so so good when they both end up embroiled in the very emotional situation that they both want to avoid at all costs #ie their feelings for each other / betrayal / broken trust / fear #i think i ended this poorly i kind of got distracted and honestly...honestly i don't KNOW what their response to violence really says #or how it's going to be played with throughout the drama #this text is the bare bones of what i can understand through what i've seen #and oh yes even though i know some people might argue that they're not emotionally aware i think they are...#both very emotionally mature. despite their actions they both know what's up in their hearts #and they're very adept at reading one another (or at least taeyoung is towards kwonsook i think she's getting there but she's also trying to #distance herself from him so. i do think she's ignoring some of what she'll probably reinterpret later on #nobody made taeyoung a monster he chose that path vs kwonsook left the path as soon as she was able to #and her getting punished for his bad deeds...even though at the end she admits they're both scumbags for going through with this deal #because she's understood that she'll hurt boxing whether good things come out of it or not #because she'll be disrespecting ahreum and everyone else by rigging the match and losing on purpose #which will probably add to her conflict later on #and taeyoung simultaneously struggles with not wanting to string her along vs stringing her along #because he's been upfront with her about how he's a bad person and she sees it too but ALSO #he can't bring himself to tell her some of the worst things because he wants her to see him differently #like he wants to act like a good person for her but also knows he needs her #honestly their relationship dynamic reminds me so much of my liberation notes #it's the ahjussi / disenchanted two people approaching each other and something ending up growing there where they thought nothing would #again

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mushroom-for-art · 1 year

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Hey @blues-sues, they consume me enjoy.

In the rain

Hidden under a rough covering of leaves, two Mewtwo sheltered themselves from the rain with the little dip huddling close for warmth as the rain splattered heavily around them. The red hued one kept his arms wrapped around his companion holding them close protectively, eyes constantly scanning his surroundings trying to pinpoint any abnormal movement or sounds from around the rain, his eyes darting to leaves that bounced under fat water droplets or branches that swayed in a gust.

He jolted flinching as a droplet that had rolled across the leaves fell on his back, water still getting them within their makeshift shelter. Feeling her shiver he held her tighter pulling her closer as rain thumped around them. He tilted and moved his head desperate to hear over the rain or anything past the rain as another droplet hit his arm then his tail. He couldn't help the growl that started to grumble and grow within the back of his throat and as it to insult him a drop plonked onto his head causing him to jolt and shift his body weight. His companion made a soft noise as she felt him moving.

He moved into a crouch, his arms still wrapped around his friend, his tail thumping into the sopping wet ground causing mud to fly around, his eyes frantic as the rain continued to pour indiscriminately around them.

He felt his companion lightly jump in his arms as rain hit her on the cheek, despite her quietly giggling at the sensation and surprise he felt aggressive. He shifted on his toes feeling quills starting to form under his body, his body beginning to stretch and morph. He felt his fingers and toes extending elongating outwards, his digits sinking into the dirt as he growled, feeling surrounded by thousands of unseen enemies and untraceable threats. He shoved himself upwards from his crouch standing and storming out into the rain even as his limbs screamed at him to not move. He bellowed snarling furious at the rain turning in circles as he was lashed with water in feral deranged hysteria.

Throwing his thick quills from his wrists, they sank into the mud into tree trunks as he paced in a circle overwhelmed with pain and sounds. The rain was horrid and wet and cold on his body and wracked him full of chill even as his limbs and body burned in searing agony. His wrists and fingers quivered in uncontrollable subtle shaking between freezing anxiety and overwhelming pain, his foot sank into the mud whimpering with the pain shooting up his leg as his tail thrashed. Everything was just too much as he growled over his pain at the sky daring the weather to come and fight him personally, it was an unstoppable entity, an enemy that needed to be subdued even as rain hit his face and into his eyes.

Shivering from the sudden loneliness his companion of pinks moved carefully from where she was huddled making a soft oop as her horns touched the leaves above her head and splattered her head. She moved her hands to feel around to carefully shimmy out from the little shelter. Unable to see anything but the aura of others she managed to step into the open. She had seen other aura traces but right now all she could make out were the waves of bright red energy rolling off of her companion. His aura flared outwards in powerful waves that almost sent her stumbling backwards, but she could read him and she could feel his pain and terror. Even as his aura blinded her vision further with red and the outline of his taller form she approached, with practiced caution.

Her hand reached out and she managed to brush against his tail as it swayed past her hand thankfully going over his quills in a way that flattened them and left her unharmed. She heard his startled breath and the splat of mud as he turned quickly to confront her with a snarl before quietening into a whimper. Despite being blind to turned her head up to meet where his gaze should be and raised her hands upwards towards him. She couldn't actually reach but she didn't need to, she felt his hands quickly cupping the back of hers and his face burying quickly into her palms as he mumbled apologies into her hold. She rubbed her thumbs carefully against his cheeks as he buried into her hands feeling his tail curl around her and pull her closer as he moved into a crouch still using his hands to keep hers on his face. Slowly he moved his hands moving them instead to wrap around her body pulling her in closer to himself as he pressed his face into her neck as her hands moved one holding his face the other gently holding his neck. His aura waves were calming from erratic spikes and waves to small rolls of energy but she could still sense he was in pain even if he didn't express it.

She tilted her head to the side gently bonking against him and lightly rubbing her cheek against the side of his head near his horns offering a soft comforting purr. The rain pattered above them as a psychic barrier was made like an umbrella, she squeezed him just softly closer to her purring a bit deeper, "there you go," she comforted, "that's better yea?" She felt him nod into her neck.

Her hand moved from his neck to rub down his upper back carefully, his quills already flattened, she could feel his body starting to change once more, his aura signature shrinking as his body reduced in stature and size back to his regular form, though he still huddled into her. Even though he was quiet she knew he was still in pain, the mega evolution took a great physical toll on his body it was something he really shouldn't have done but she could understand why. Had he ever really heard or felt the rain before? She'd heard it a few times from her own room but she figured to him this was already so much especially with how anxious and protective he'd become. She gently squeezed him closer to her and he made a soft mrrp.

"Come on, let's head back to the shelter, wait for this rain to stop." He nodded into her neck once more his hold on her tightening as she moved, "Rig, you gotta let go so we can move," she giggled softly as he made a bit of a stubborn grumble moving to pick her up as she squealed and very much told him off and to put her down for his own sake before he hurt himself further.

"I know you're already going to be aching from that evolution. You stop being silly and put me down no lifting anything, oh my Arceus Rigger!!" He ignored her protests carrying her back to the shelter and ducking under inside keeping the protect barrier above them to offer more security and ease his overwhelmed senses. He put her down but didn't release.

"That was very foolish and you know it I can feel the pain in your aura," he buried himself into her neck wrapping his legs and tail around her to hold her close to him as she tutted thumping her tail a little to express her mild frustration at his lack of self care before sighing leaning into his warm hold. "You better take it easy from now on though Rig, you're still recovering if you continue to push yourself too far you could be seriously hurt." Her voice was soft but he could hear the clear worry in her tone as she cuddled herself into him.

"Sorry Mel…" His voice a mumble, "I'll, try..promise.." She sighed softly, the sincerity was clear in his aura despite him struggling for words. She leant into him comfortable in his hold and warm as she felt him mutually lean and press into her, closing her eyes she just listened to the rain with him.

#My writing #My oc #Friends oc #Rigger the mewtwo #@Blues-sues oc #@Blues-sues Melaleuca #I love ur girl #She's the only fucker with sense #Me: hasn't even revealed Riggers design. Also me: puts in fic #Hope this isn't rude as she hasn't been revealed yet #Also I'm imaging her aura vision is similar to the aura emotional vision from the Arceus movie where it like woo wibbly wavy energy #So she can see and pick up on his emotions by his aura and too much energy does have the physical affect of nearly making her stumble #Little extra treat for her #Rigger is a massive cuddle bug and an even bigger idiot #Probably not long went through horrid experiments then accidentally triggered his body into the second mega of that day #And then despite the huge body pains hes in from his body being stretched and changed he HAS to pick up his Mel #He's so fucking stupid honestly he shouldn't be lifting anything at all #But no gotta hold his fren #They're cuddly and I love them ur honor

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criminalamnesia · 3 months

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the 141 x reader fic that you did was so yummy!!! pls make them suffer the wrath of reader and make 141 realise how much they need them when they leave,

your work is so amazing btw and your way with words is simply ✨chef’s kiss✨ (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

thank you!! here’s part 3 :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

angry didn’t even begin to describe how you felt as you slammed the door to price’s office behind you.

you were tense, muscles taut and poised to fight. your fists clenched at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms hard enough to hurt. your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding together as you resisted the urge to march back in there and unleash your fury.

no. not like this. not when you weren’t a hundred percent. not when they would still look at you like you were a wounded doe, stumbling around on broken legs.

in the back of your mind, you can hear that psychologist saying ‘this anger will eat you alive if you let it. you need to let it out somehow.’

you inhaled, unclenched your fists, and made up your mind. you pulled the iv from your arm, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

you left the iv pole standing there as you made your way to the gym.

the gym was empty when you arrived, which made sense for this time of day. many would be occupied by drills or in the mess hall. others would be sleeping off long nights. you had the place to yourself, and you were grateful for the absence of watchful eyes and sweetened tongues.

you were tired of those who knew nothing acting like they knew something. of those who apologized or asked if you were okay. word spread like wildfire around base, and the subject of your ‘betrayal’ had been front-page news since the start of the witch hunt.

the gym door clicked shut behind you, and you surveyed the room. you knew your doctor would have a fit once you returned to the infirmary, and that she probably wouldn’t let you out alone again, but you didn’t really care.

you needed to let off some steam, and the best way you knew how was with your fists. either you start swinging at a bag or at a certain someone’s face. the bag won’t be condescending, and that makes your choice easy.

you approach one of the bright red punching bags in the corner. it’s scratched and taped from where someone had busted it open. scars that didn’t go away, that wouldn’t— just like yours.

you huffed. it didn’t do any good to start feeling sorry for yourself. you hadn’t done anything wrong. your team had.

you stretch your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocking to pop your knuckles. you catch sight of your severed finger, still healing. they’d recovered what had been chopped off, but hadn’t been able to save it.

just another permanent reminder, something to make sure you didn’t dare forget. you didn’t think you ever would regardless.

you shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders back. fists raised, you angled yourself towards the bag. feet spread, shoulders squared, thumb tucked under your fingers instead of inside. a stance that was second nature after years of sparring and hand-to-hand drills.

the bag was firm when your fist connected with it. you would have been lying if you said it didn’t hurt. you punched with the other hand— same results. the time you’d spent confined to an infirmary bed had done a number on you. muscles had atrophied, bones had weakened. the leg you’d suffered a bone-deep cut to shook under your weight.

you didn’t care. you kept punching, your breathing picking up as your emotions guided you. sweat dripped into your eyes and rolled down your back. you felt weak, physically and mentally. you hated feeling this way, and so you punched harder.

“slow down,” a voice grumbled from behind you.

you ignored him, continuing to punch the bag. you hadn’t heard the door open, nor heard the sound of him approaching, but you would have been surprised if you did.

simon always had a penchant for sneaking up on people, intentionally or not.

“gonna pass out if y’don’t stop,” he said after a minute. you could feel his eyes on you. you ignored him again.

you didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing there with his arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.

“stop,” he says firmly, and you sense his movement as he surges forward. his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, pulling you back from the punching bag. you heave in a breath before spinning around and punching him in the nose.

simon stumbles back a step, eyes widened slightly. for someone who prided himself on being so observant, he clearly didn’t see that coming. it made you feel the tiniest bit smug that you’d caught him off guard for once.

you dropped your hands to your knees then, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over you. damn the bastard, he had been right. you shouldn’t have even been in here in the first place, let alone exerted yourself as much as you had.

your hands were shaking as you tried to pull yourself together. you opened your eyes to see drops of blood on the gym floor, by your feet. you had split your knuckles open.

there were also drops of blood at simon’s feet. you looked up then, slowly straightening your posture. he’d removed his mask, his face bare as he stared at you. blood dripped from his nose.

“gonna have to hit harder than that if y’want to break it,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“did you follow me in here?”

“no.” he says, and you’re giving a mirthless laugh.

“oh, please. im sure price sent you, yeah? you’ve always been his little lap dog. he says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high,’ isn’t that right, lieutenant?”

your tone is tense, angry. you throw his title in his face, seeing as he’d been so quick to remind you of yours back in price’s office.

simon watches you, and you want to tackle him. he had always been quiet, always stoic. you’d been with him for years, but you still didn’t think you’d broken down all of his walls.

he was so good at masking his thoughts, his feelings. you weren’t. soap had always called you an open book. whenever you were mad or upset, everyone knew it.

no one knew anything about simon unless he wanted them to. it drove you mad then, and it was sure as hell driving you mad now.

“you need to get back to the infirmary,” he tells you. he wipes the back of his hand under his nose, smearing red across his skin. for a moment, you want to chastise him, reach up and wipe the remnants from his face.

you quickly shake that thought from your head. what is it they say— old habits die hard?

these habits would die if you had to strangle each one with your bare hands. anything you harbored for the four men on your team, for the one you’d called yours, was dead and gone.

“fuck off,” you tell him.

“why are you so damn stubborn?” he says then, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him start to crack since everything had happened. emotions are beginning to leak through his stony exterior, whether he means them to or not.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. none of you do,” you say, and you take a step forward then, eyes blazing as you stare up at him. “not after what you did.”

he doesn’t speak for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. his eyes never leave yours.

“it shouldn’t have happened like that.” he tells you. you scoff.

“like that? you mean the four of you torturing me? tying me up and mutilating me like I was just another fucking target?” your voice was rising as you took another step forward, shoving a finger into his chest.

“if I’d treated you like another target,” he said, tone even. “you would’ve been dead.”

“so you showed me mercy, is that it?” you bared your teeth, a hollow laugh escaping your throat. “oh, thank you simon. I really felt that fucking mercy when you cut off my finger, and when you cut through layers of skin to get to bone.”

you inhaled before continuing. “I should be grateful then, right? is that what you want from me? for me to recognize your fucking ‘mercy’ and take you back? take you all back?”

he just stands there. you can see his jaw clench, but he makes no move to speak. you find it funny that he hasn’t even tried to apologize. john, your ever prideful captain, had swallowed his failure and pleaded for your forgiveness.

johnny and kyle would surely have done the same if they’d had the chance to speak to you, even if they only had a minute.

but simon? simon doesn’t. he doesn’t outwardly admit his wrongs. he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t seem sorry, even. you don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but you find yourself not really caring to know.

the fact that he can’t bring himself to admit, in blunt words, that he had astronomically fucked up and that he felt even the slightest bit of remorse, told you everything you needed to know.

cold, stoic ghost. you hadn’t been afraid of him when you’d first joined the squad, and you weren’t afraid of him now.

but back then, you’d wanted to break down those stone walls of his. you’d wanted to be someone he felt safe around, someone who knew him inside and out.

now, you’re packing your time with him into a box in your mind and dumping it into the trash. simon riley means nothing to you now.

“take your mercy and shove it up your ass,” you tell him. you step back and drop your hand, your eyes still locked on his.

“and by the way,” you say as you start towards the door. he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t move an inch. it’s as if he’s rooted to the spot.

“you should’ve just killed me.”

author’s note:

not really sure how I feel about this one tbh. I have plans for a part four, but I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be making this series.

and as for simon— I want to write an extra part about his thoughts/feelings about everything. let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

anyways, let me know your thoughts please :) (I honestly may end up deleting this and rewriting it when I’m not tired lol)

taglist: @preeyansha @igotmajordaddyissues @nanatheoaktree @aesthetic0cherryblossom @oceanicexolorer @soph121212 @liv2post @cupid-eclipse @angels-despair18 @k4marina

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sas-soulwriter · 7 months

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Dark past ideas

A dark past can be really intresting in books .here are some ideas:

Mysterious Orphanage Escapee: A character who grew up in a sinister orphanage and narrowly escaped its dark secrets.

Traumatic War Survivor: A soldier who witnessed unspeakable horrors on the battlefield, leaving deep emotional scars.

Secret Criminal Past: A reformed criminal who once led a life of violence, but is now trying to make amends.

Kidnapped as a Child: A character who was abducted at a young age and endured years of captivity before escaping.

Tragic Family Betrayal: A character who was betrayed by a close family member, leading to a life filled with distrust and pain.

Cult Escapee: Someone who managed to break free from a dangerous cult, but is haunted by their past involvement.

Haunted by a Violent Crime: A person who accidentally caused harm to someone in their past and has been tormented by guilt ever since.

Dark Addiction: A character who battled a severe addiction that nearly destroyed their life before seeking recovery.

Betrayed by a Friend: A friend who turned out to be a traitor, leading to significant emotional trauma.

Abandoned in Isolation: Someone who was left alone and abandoned in a desolate place, struggling to survive.

Witness to a Murder: A character who saw a murder as a child and was forever scarred by the experience.

Childhood Experimentation: A person who was subjected to unethical scientific experiments in their youth, leaving lasting physical and emotional scars.

Kidnapped and Forced into Crime: A character who was abducted and forced to commit criminal acts against their will.

Betrayed by a Mentor: Someone who was betrayed by a trusted mentor, leading to a deep sense of betrayal and loss.

Survived Natural Disaster: A survivor of a catastrophic natural disaster who lost everything they held dear.

Abusive Relationship Escapee: A person who managed to escape an abusive relationship, but continues to struggle with the trauma.

Witness to a Dark Ritual: A character who stumbled upon a sinister occult ritual in their past, leaving them haunted by the experience.

Family Curse: A character burdened by a dark family curse that has brought suffering to generations.

Identity Theft and Framing: A person who had their identity stolen and was wrongfully accused of crimes they didn't commit.

#creative writing #writing #writers block #writing advice #writblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing community #writing tips #words #wattpad #ao3 #reader #enemies to lovers #wattpad writer #amreading #novels #darkpast #darkromance

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dante-mightdie · 19 days

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MORE ANGST.

Like, okay, more angst for reader, but I need some angst for 141. Like PLEASE.

So, the reader, frustrated (mentally and physically), decides to take things onto their own hands. If they treat them as if they don't exist, so will they. It starts simple. They don't greet them good morning and goodbye anymore, when the team would only offer a grunt or nod of acknowledgment. Reader doesn't ask them to hang out, or to join into their plans. They start living for themselves, not quite leaving them, more like treating the four men like roommates. Whenever one would initiate intimacy, reader would slip away, offering some lame excuse. At the same time, just an hour later, they'd see a glimpse of reader, all dressed up and pretty, not bothering to let them know where they'd be going as they run out the front door, only to be heared from a couple of hours later. Stumbling through the front door with a second pair of footsteps following suit, and a hearty male laugh. The apartment was as much reader's as it was the boys' so it should be normal they brought someone home ... but was this what the task force 141 though?

changed it ever so slightly but I love this yes

c/w: poly!141, mentions of emotional neglect, alcohol, intoxication

you got the idea after scrolling through social media, rotting away in bed had become a common routine for you. an advertisement had popped up for a bar that opened up a few months ago, you remember asking johnny and kyle to go with you but they were too busy at the time

it looked like a nice enough place. not like the dive bars in camden that simon takes you to, or those annoying ass scotch bars in canary wharf that john insists on ‘introducing’ you to. as if you’ve never had a glass of scotch before. the memory makes you scoff to yourself

surprisingly, it doesn’t take much to convince yourself to just… go. if they won’t go with you, there’s no reason why you can’t convince yourself. they were too busy ignoring you to notice you’d be gone anyway. so, you drag yourself out of bed and rifle through the wardrobe for something to wear

looking good really does make you feel good, you say to yourself when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror once you were ready. you’d decided on a fitted black dress with a pair of black strapped heels. they wouldn’t notice but you added a bit of detail to the outfit

if they did notice that every piece of jewellery was a piece they had bought for you, it would fucking burn. the diamond skull-shaped studs that simon got you, the vintage locket that john had found for you when he was deployed, and the anklet that kyle had grabbed from some fancy jewellery store on oxford street paired with the stunning ring that johnny found at a local market in scotland

you took a deep breath and held your head high before grabbing your purse. when you entered the front room, all conversation stopped as usual. but only because they were too busy eyeing you up and down, “where’re you goin’ dressed like that?”

you roll your eyes when john speaks up, not even stopping to respond. a curt ‘out’ leaving your lips as you walk out the front door and slam it loudly. the boys all looked at each other, shifting in their seats uncomfortably at the interaction

john narrowed his eyes as he glared at the front door. he didn’t like not knowing where you were. even if you didn’t know it, john always knew about your whereabouts

the bar was nice, nice enough for you to drink your feelings away in. in your head, you imagined flirting with anyone just to make the boys jealous. but every time someone approached you, it just filled you with more sadness. perhaps a part of you just wanted the boys to grab you, persuade you to stay with sweet words and gentle kisses like they used to do when you looked this good

it was a few hours past midnight when you finally returned, simon awakened by the sounds of giggling outside and your keys jangling in the door. he didn’t plan on getting out of bed until he heard a male voice speaking along side yours

he stalked down the stairs, following the sounds of your heels stumbling until he found you in the front room. you were drunk out of your fucking mind with some random bloke holding you up. simon’s fists clenched at his side and he decided to make his presence known

“better take your hand off her before you fuckin’ lose it, mate.” he spits, taking a step closer to yank you from the man’s grip. you squeak and stumble from the harsh tug, landing right against simon’s bulky frame as he holds on to your arm to keep you steady

the man takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “woah, i’m not here to cause any trouble. was just making sure she got home safe. my colleague over served her and she said her roommates were too busy to pick her up.”

simon clenches his jaw, keeping his gaze on the man and just waiting for him to step out of line. he doesn’t even notice that the others have climbed out of bed too, coming downstairs to hear what the commotion is about

he turns his head only to shove you into price’s arms, squaring his shoulders as he stares the bartender down. “well, our girl is home and safe now so you best be on your way.”

“relax, mate. she’s really not my type. that one there is more my type.” the bartender chuckles, nodding his head towards soap before turning around and walking out the door but not before giving you a goodbye

price steadies your body against him, already getting an idea of the kind of drunken state that you’re in. he lifts your basically limp body into his arms before carrying you up to bed but he doesn’t take you to the spare room. he takes you to what you have recently come to know as their room

“had a bit too much, princess?” he chuckles, placing you down on the bed. you look at him confused before letting your head fall to the pillow

“‘m still your princess?” you mumble into the fabric. price frowns slightly, turning his head to look at the boys before making work on taking your heels off

“course. you always have been.” he mumbles. you respond with a small hum before completely passing out against the sheets…

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader

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writers-potion · 3 months

Text

Dark Backstory Ideas ๋࣭ ⭑🦋๋࣭ ⭑.

As writers, we all have a sadist sharpening its knives within us. Here are some ways to make your characters' lives miserable, sympathetic, and *storyworthy*.

A character grew up in a sinister orphanage and narrowly escaped its dark, dark secrets.

A soldier witnessed unspeakable horrors on the battlehied, leaving deep emotional scars.

A reformed criminal who once led a life of violence, but is now trying to make amends.

A character was abducted at a young age and endured years of captivity before escaping

A character was betraye by a close family member, leading to a life filed with distrust and pain.

A character managed to break free from a dangerous cult, but is haunted by their past involvements in cruel rituals.

A person accidentally caused harm to someone in the past and has been losing sleep over guilt ever since.

A character battles a severe addiction that nearly destroyed their life before seeking help.

A friend turned out to be a traitor, leading to significant emotional trauma and a distrust for humanity (which we writers have even without a traitor of a friend?)

A character was left alone and abndoned in a desolate place befpre they fought tooth and nail to escape.

A character witnessed murder as a child

A character was subjected to unethical sceintific experinments that left both physical and emotional scars.

A character stumbled upon a sinister occult ritual in their peast, leaving them haunted..and a little different.

A character had their identity stolen and was wrongfully accused of crimes they didn't commit.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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benkeibear · 2 months

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⋆꙳✧༄ Their hand slips

꒰ ͜͡➸ In which their hand (almost) slips and puts a strain on your relationship.

❖ Characters: Toji, Yuuta, Inumaki

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 4,3k

❖ WARNINGS: Toji being a good husband and almost snapping, getting pushed and slapped (accidentally), Toge using his technique on you, overall sogginess, hurt to comfort

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | Part 2 with Nanami, Yuuji and Gojo in works! A big thank you to @kakushino and @suyacho for the brainstorming and making me pull through 🫶

☰ Toji:

Being with Toji has always been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you never doubted his love for you, despite him being rough around the edges. Yes, he might disappear for days, sometimes weeks after a fight, but he never once lifted his hand or indicated that he would physically hurt you. If the fight was over something dumb, you would usually end up in the bedroom to get his anger out in a fun way while making up again.

You don't even know what started the fight today - was it the dishes he didn't do? Perhaps he left the laundry in the laundry machine? All you know is that you've been screaming at each other for well over an hour; your throat was already sore, but you wouldn't stop now. Toji was just beyond annoyed at your little tantrum, at least that's what it was to him. “I said I'd take care of it, didn't I? The day isn't over yet,” he tried the calm way at first, his jaw clenching in frustration when you screamed back how tired you are from work.

Things carried on like this for a while, Toji losing his cool after you screamed at him right away and he started to scream back until you were just throwing around profanities. At least until you said something you shouldn't have “No wonder your last two wives left you, you live like a damn pig." It wasn't too bad, but it was a sore topic for him and his hand raised… simply staying up in the air without ever connecting to your face, but it was enough for you to flinch away. Toji's jaw tensed up further, his teeth almost cracking from the pure pressure, when he realized what he almost did - crossing a boundary that should never be crossed and you look at him like he's a monster now. Perhaps he was and you were right, make it three wives, it's deserved now that his hand almost struck you.

Ever so slowly, he brought his hand down from its spot up in the air, trying not to startle you further when he reached to cup your cheek, the anger in his eyes turning to desperation. Out of reflex, you flinched from his touch, your body still in flight mode from almost getting struck by him and Toji recoiled his hand quickly while nodding to himself. The anger flamed up behind his eyes once again upon realizing just how badly he had messed up. Anger rose up and he couldn't contain himself any longer. “FUCK” he roared, making you stumble backwards just to get away from him before he punched a hole into the wall. You barely recognized the man in front of you since he'd never been this violent around you or directed at you. The thought of drawing a single breath of air scared you with him raging around and you simply held your breath, your entire body shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, but before you found your voice again, he stormed out of your shared home, grabbing his coat on the way out of the front door.

Relief was the first thing you felt when you finally felt like you could exhale once again. The air was less tense with him out of the room and upon looking around your usually tidy kitchen, you saw the battlefield he'd left behind. The hole in the wall was gaping and your favorite candle holder, the one he gifted you simply because you thought the cat warming its paws looked so cute, was now on the floor and shattered into hundreds of small pieces. You didn't care much for the cushions laying around or the chairs scattered across the room, but you cradled the severed porcelain head of the small cat to your chest as you fell to your knees when the first wave of shock wore off. Toji has left. He's gone now and given how both of you crossed boundaries and he almost hit you, it didn't give you much hope for his return. A bitter laugh crossed your sobs when you thought of the small candle holder scattered and how it represented your broken relationship.

After what felt like an eternity on the floor, you had the courage to get up once again, slowly putting things back where they used to stand before picking up each and every piece of Tojis present. You needed to get your mind off of his departure, he sure would return - latest when he had to get his things - you told yourself, trying to calm the mess that was in your head. Dedicated, you brought the pieces to the living room, where his show was running as always, your favorite background noise in your daily life and piece by piece, you glued the little candle holder back together until it looked somewhat like it used to and it gave you hope - perhaps you could do the same to your relationship?

Once the distraction wore off, you found yourself sitting on the unusually empty couch, sitting in his favorite spot and the silence was deafening. The show stopped playing a while ago, Netflix asked you if you're still watching, and the tears started to form in your eyes once again. Perhaps he will be back soon? Your hope wore thinner with every hour that has passed, only hoping that he will come back eventually one day at this point. Sure, you've had worse fights with him, but it never got physical, this one felt much more charged and intense like all the others before, so perhaps he's sick of the constant fighting, sick of you…

Slowly, you sunk your face into the pillow on the couch and brought your knees to your chest as you wept. His show was now playing once again to bring you at least a little comfort as you drifted off into a restless slumber, the moment where he almost struck you, replaying in your head over and over again.

Toji wandered around the block at first, contemplating getting drunk out of his mind and simply disappearing out of your life forever since he has nothing to offer you but his heart and body, but now he wasn't sure if that was enough - if he was enough and he hated these thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted, so why is he so damn attached to you? Answers didn't come by as he sat down in the park and gulped down a cheap beer, but the longer he sat there, the more reasons he found just why he was with you and how you made him feel things no one managed to ignite in so long. It was clear to him that he would need to go back, that he would need to fix things with you, for his own sake because he'd be lost without you once again.

By the time Toji got up from the old bench at the park it was almost morning already. The birds were chirping softly in the trees and he took a deep breath in, preparing himself to lose you once and for all since he couldn't force you to forgive him after all, but he would promise to be better. He vowed to be a good partner and later on to be a good husband to you and not once did he make you regret trusting him since he was always nothing but good to you. His posture was slightly slouched when he entered the apartment, ready to find the mess he left behind in the kitchen, but it looked as if nothing ever happened here - aside from the hole in the wall that felt like a plow to his guts. That could have been your face, the realization setting in once again over what happened and how badly he damaged the trust in this relationship with his cowardly reaction.

Shaking his head at his thought, he made his way back to the door, only to be met by your weak voice somewhere behind him. “Toji?” was all you asked, your voice sounding tired and so fragile from hours of crying and he flinched, dreading your next words. “Don't leave… please,” You continue and sit up now to look at him. “I'm just here to get my thi- you want me to stay?” He sounded rather surprised that you didn't send him out, cussing him and his entire bloodline out as he got his things. Toji was so prepared for rejection that he didn't even consider you would want him to stay, but you did, so he dragged himself over to the couch where you sat, waiting to face him. Your bloodshot eyes shocked him, have you been crying all night over him? Over the situation, or perhaps the divorce you surely wanted?

“I'm sorry,” was all that he croaked out, his ego crushed and the confidence that usually radiated off of him was entirely gone. He was nothing but a miserable pile in front of you in this moment. It took you a minute or two to fully register his words - his apology and you simply nodded, knowing he wasn't great with words, especially apologies. Silence fell upon both of you once again, unsure how to go on from here. Both of you were uncomfortable with the situation, but you were the first to find your words again, having spent the night thinking about what you wanted and ultimately what you would say to him. But right now, this was all thrown out of the window when you looked at him and reached out for his hands, trying to show that you're no longer scared.

“Listen to me. If you ever raise a hand to me again, Toji Fushiguru, I will cut out your heart and eat it for breakfast. Do you understand me?” You asked with a much more secure voice and it almost scared him because he knew you took that threat seriously, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips now. “That's my wife,” he chuckled a little, wondering if he extinguished your flame with fear, but you weren't one to crumble, not from him or his foolish actions.

Unasked Toji whisked you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom, refusing to let go of you for even a second as he smothered you between his arms and chest. Things weren't okay and they won't be for a while, but at least you knew that he was willing to work on himself and that you were willing to stay, so things could be alright again one day.

☰ Yuuta:

You were always Yuuta's first priority and he never failed to make it clear that you knew that there's no one and nothing more important to him than you. Yet he had to save the world as usual, exorcizing a curse here, helping out there and more often than not, you found yourself alone in your shared home, talking limited to texts and phone calls. He tried his hardest to make sure you're always on his mind, even if he's not physically with you, especially then, but you slowly felt like this wasn't the case. It felt like he was running away from home, from you to be alone, to be with Rika rather than you for the old days sake.

This gut wrenching thought became especially painful when you ran into him in the grocery store when he claimed to be on the other side of the world and not in fact in the same grocery store or even the same city. You didn't want to cause a scene, not there out of all places, so you abandoned your shopping cart and walked out, ignoring the hurt puppy look from your boyfriend. Dropping the chocolates he held previously, he charged after you, “Wait, please. Let me explain!” He called after you and caught up with your rather fast pace, but you didn't pay any attention to him, fearing the worst.

And sometimes your own mind can be the worst enemy, as you now convinced yourself that Yuuta was leading some sort of double life, a secret life hidden away from you and you didn't want to see his face a second longer. When the young man held onto your wrist to get you to stop running from him, it felt as if your skin was burning. You quickly tugged your hand out of his grasp and glared at him. “Stop causing a damn scene, Okkotsu,” you hissed under your breath and Yuuta knew he was in trouble by the way you only used his last name, so much venom behind your words. All he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite flowers and some sweets since he was home almost an entire week earlier and he didn't understand the tantrum you were throwing at that moment. Yes, he did lie to you and told you he wouldn't be home for at least another five days, but he was already on his way back to you, his home. Was he wrong that he wanted to surprise you just to have you jump into his arms five days earlier than initially planned?

The walk home was awkward and silent, the air around you two was charged with strong emotions and unspoken words - words none of you dared to speak until the front door to your apartment was closed and you whipped around, facing him with an expression full of anger and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You immediately asked, letting your inner fear take over instead of trying to think rationally, but Yuuta immediately shook his head. “It's not like that, I promise!” His voice was rather submissive, hating to have fights with you, especially for the dumbest reasons, but you couldn't contain your anger, your presence alone made him take a step back. He knew you would never lay a hand on him, but the air around you was so thick that he feared to suffocate if he couldn't keep some distance. “Don't come at me with that bullshit, Yuuta. You promised not to lie to me and here you are… avoiding me despite being back. Do you have someone else? Do you miss Rika so much that you can't bear to be with me?” You questioned, taking steps towards your boyfriend despite his silent plea to keep distance. It's unfair of you to bring Rika up in this situation, both of you knew this, but you didn't care. The way he was always talking about her started to gnaw at your heart, slowly building a deep insecurity that you're just someone he settled for because he couldn't have the one he wanted. Perhaps he found a better replacement? That was your initial thought when you saw him smiling to himself at the grocery store. Little do you know, he was thinking about your gleeful smile when he came home early.

Yuuta barely opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity of silence when he reached for your hands, hoping you let him explain, hoping you calmed down enough to start thinking rationally. “Please, just listen, okay?” He started, his voice small since he didn't want things to escalate, fearing to lose you as much as you fear the same. You were his anchor, his safety vest out in the ocean that kept him afloat when everything was against him. He made the mistake of touching you, trying to get closer to you when you were so charged and it made you feel crowded, pushing him off of you, so he let go of your wrists. He would have let go if only you had asked, showing him he makes you uncomfortable, but before he could stop it, it was already too late.

Rika pushed you away from him much harsher than he would have ever allowed and he recoiled, backing away from your curled up body after you were sent flying against the wall, several feet behind you.

The sight of your body on the floor and the little noise you let out upon the collision shattered his heart. Sure, Rika just wanted to protect him from harm, but you would have never seriously hurt him and he was in shambles, trying to figure out what to do now that one of his biggest fears had become a reality. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened. You were just sitting up and blinking at Yuuta, who looked paler than usual, his body frozen to the spot as he watched you with wide eyes. The way you looked around made him aware of how dizzy you must feel since your head hit the wall - at least there was no blood on your hands when you checked the back of your head reluctantly.

“Yuuta?” You asked him as you teared up, knowing that it was just an accident. The young man snapped out of his trance-like state upon hearing your voice, softly asking him for comfort, but he couldn't give that to you, not if he was the one who hurt you in the first place.

His head snapped around, looking for a way out of here. Perhaps he could jump out of the window, or is it too high? The sound of his heartbeat picking up was deafening, the only thing he heard in that moment and it only fueled the anxiety further. But it was you utterly desperate voice calling out to him once again that snapped him out of his fight or flight reaction. Panicked eyes finally looked at your teary ones and his body reacted on its own. Without a further moment passing, he dropped to his knees beside you and cradled your body in his arms, holding you close. You knew he didn't hurt you and it was just a reaction from Rika, so you weren't angry, but your body still hurt as you wept into his embrace, your body trembling with each sob that wrecked through it. “I'm so sorry, my love,” kept falling off his lips like a whispered mantra as he gently rocked you back and forth in his arms in hopes that it's enough to call both of you down - even if it's just a little bit.

Hours later, neither of you had moved. You were still cradled in Yuuta's lap, arms wrapped securely around you and he still looked at you as if he had just broken the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I’m sorry that I made you angry.” You eventually broke the silence that just felt heavy to you, but he quickly shook his head. “Don't..." It's not your fault I lost control,” he began and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your delicate skin for a moment before you felt them move as he continued to speak. “I should have told you I'm home earlier, the flowers would have been a surprise regardless, I'm sorry I made you doubt my love for you,” he whispered against your temple, earnest regret in his voice. Yuuta knew he was gone too much lately and if the roles were reversed, he would have had doubts as well, so he couldn't blame you.

Unsure how to answer, you nod softly and your hands clutch onto him just a little tighter. “We will make things better,” you eventually mumble, reassuring the both of you that despite what has happened, things will be okay again and you can work past this accident.

☰ Inumaki:

You never felt scared or threatened by Inumaki, he was always more than sweet to you and despite his cursed speech, you never feared anything. He fell in love with you the day he found out you learned sign language for him and he hasn't left your side ever since. You two were inseparable to the point that his friends automatically spoke of both of you instead of just an individual and it was you who understood his few words better than anyone.

Laughter echoed through his small apartment when he pinned you to the bed with just one hand, the other traveling down to your sides to tickle you. Your laughter was one of his favorite noises, your smile his favorite sight and he wished he could tell you, scream out how much he loves you, but he would never dare say such things out loud, scared it manipulates you somehow and you're with him against his will. This was his worst nightmare, one that often haunted him at night and he woke up distressed while frantically searching for his phone. It's the same over and over again. “You're with me because it's what you want, right?” He texts and awaits your answer as he picks the skin on his fingers anxiously. “I’m with you because my heart chose you,” you tell him every time before his phone even unlocks, already knowing what plagues his handsome head.

Your sweet giggle brought him back to the little play fight you two just had and the way you were trying so hard to overpower him despite knowing you would never succeed. This thought never scared you, since you knew he would never use it against you or hold you down when you didn't want it. It was all just playful banter until he wanted to catch your wrist after you freed it but miscalculated, sending his hand right against your cheek with such strength that the slap echoed off the walls, followed by your whimper. You didn't need to push him off of your body, Inumaki got up right away and the tears that started to form in your eyes caused him to panic slowly. He frantically tried to sign “I'm sorry, it was an accident” over and over, but it felt like his hands were knotted up by the speed and you didn't look at him, turning away as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. You weren't mad at him, knowing it was an accident, but it still hurt you - the tears were only a reaction of your body to the stinging pain that traveled through your face.

But the way you refused to even look at him frustrated the young man and despite his efforts to get your attention, you simply rose from the corner of the bed and left the room. Of course he was chasing after you, tapping you, holding your wrist, whining… He tried so hard to get just a sliver of your attention when you clearly didn't want to give that to him right now and he felt wrongfully punished. “Stop crying and come here.” These words slipped past his lips with such desperation, he couldn't even stop himself before saying them out loud and his hands slapped over his mouth the second he realized what he'd done.

No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, your body acted on its own accord as the tears dried and your feet walked over to him. Your face was one of utter shock and betrayal that he would do this to you, accident or not.

Inumaki pulled your body close and held you in a tight embrace, despite every fiber in his body screaming not to do it. It felt so wrong to him, but he needed you to forgive him for accidentally hurting you and for putting you through manipulation. When he pulled back, he was met with a face full of hurt and anger, which he deserved. “Please hit me back. We can be even,” he signed once, twice… but you looked away, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a step back to put some space between the white haired man. You wanted to scream and explode at him, but you collected yourself and looked at him with a cold expression. “Can you just stop?! I don't care that you hit me,” you started but lost your cool quickly and it came out more snappy than intended. “We were play-fighting, it happens. But you can't just crowd me and demand I do things… and you surely can't fucking manipulate me!” Your voice rose in volume at the last part since this hurt you more than the accidental hit to your face.

Inumaki looked at you like a kicked puppy, his eyes big and his face sinking into the collar of his sweater further so he could hide. He was beyond ashamed for his actions and didn't want to speak, the desperation clouding his mind and forgetting for just a split second that his words have immediate consequences and despite his best effort to not speak, he can mess up.

With trembling hands, he started signing apologies, begging for your forgiveness over and over until his shoulders started trembling and in a last effort, he signed words that were unclear, but you knew what he meant. “Please hold me." You whispered as he signed it and sighed. Realizing that he's more affected by this than you are and that he really had no malicious intentions, you pulled your lover close, comforting him and yourself as his arms wrapped around you tightly, hands clutching to the fabric of your shirt. "Love,” he mumbled out, knowing this one word wouldn't make you do anything, but it was the first time you heard him say that he loves you out loud. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your cheek still aching from the way his hand slipped, but right now your heart needed healing from the betrayal of getting manipulated. Both, you and Toge were sure that this was a cut in your relationship, but the bond you share will act as a bandaid and you will be okay again, especially since he will be even more careful now.

Networks: @themovingcastlez @enchantedforest-network

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji x reader #yuuta x reader #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #Toji angst #toji fluff #yuuta fluff #yuuta angst #Inumaki angst #inumaki fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff

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frantic-fiction · 5 months

Text

Secluded Evening 18+

(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Word Count: 2.8k

The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are at each other’s throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldur’s Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but he’s Wyll, so that’s not surprising.

Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. “Tav, I don’t believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. “I will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.”

You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. It’s the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.

“Look, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or you’ll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just ‘had to get,’ then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.” By the end, you’re yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.

You reach out a tentative hand, “Gale, I didn’t—”

“No, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.” He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.

Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Gale’s condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. “Fuck,” you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.

“I must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.” Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. “Oh, I'm sure,” you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.

It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.

He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. “Darling, I’ve noticed you’ve been very stressed these last few days.”

His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. “I think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?” His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.

You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. “You're right.” His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. “I think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.”

When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.

Astarion’s grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. “Thank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?”

He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.

The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.

It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.

“Well, isn't this just a coincidence?” Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. “I was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.”

You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. “Well, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.

Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.

His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. “You asshole.”

He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.

Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.

It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.

Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"

And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.

You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.

You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.

"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.

"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."

"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.

Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.

Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."

"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."

Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.

"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.

You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolves—you're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."

His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.

Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."

Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.

You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.

Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.

The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fast…faster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."

"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."

He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.

The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.

As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrust—the metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."

It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.

You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.

With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.

Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.

You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.

"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.

You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.

You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "I…" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.

Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his hand—pressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"

Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.

Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.

If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.

Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #reader insert #fanfic #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #smut #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion smut

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stargirlrchive · 6 months

Text

I LOVE YOU w/ SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

cw: simon riley x afab!reader, p in v, soft smut, hurt/comfort, simon comes back stressed from a mission

extended version of this post

MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

GENERAL MASTERLIST

everything felt different tonight, the way simon looked at you, the way he nervously stumbled over words, even the way he touched you.

it was different.

you could see the ache in his muscles, straining gently as he held back from just plowing into you. worry lines pinching together at his forehead, a frown etched into his face. clearly the mission he had just returned from still heavy on his mind.

simon huffed softly above you, spreading your legs wide as he slowly stuffed you with his cock.

you just whined as he slowly sank into you. your cunt fluttering around him, as if it didn’t know to pull him in deeper or push him out.

he was so big. just like every other part of him.

“how are you feelin’, love?”

his voice sounding so…disconnected. as if he wasn’t fully there with you and it pinched at your heart. all you wanted to do was soothe and dot over his wounds, both physically and internally.

but nothing left your mouth. you realized quickly that he needed this. he needed to lose himself in the feeling of being inside of you. to forget whatever horrors he saw on the field.

you just managed to get out a soft mewl, fisting at his sheets as he finally sunk into you.

you felt it, felt him. deep in your lower belly as you panted.

your fingers gently trailing over the new scars on his arms and chest and abdomen, trying to meet his eyes despite the way he was purposefully trying to avoid yours.

you knew it was because his eyes were clouded with fear. an emotion he so vehemently tried to avoid due to his line of work. but this last one left him so defeated. stripped him of everything he felt kept him safe and he couldn’t handle you seeing him so weak.

“si’, look at me, baby.”

his eyes fluttered shut at your voice, shaking his head as he dug his face into your neck. your fingers threading through his short hair.

you pulled him in closer to just feel him. to have him feel you. you knew it was what he needed.

"fuck," he growled out, "you feel so fucking good, so tight around me."

he continued to move inside you relentlessly, his hands roaming freely over your curves while his lips left trails of hickeys along the sensitive spots on your neck and shoulders.

simon felt something building in his chest, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he wrapped you in his arms. you were here, you were safe.

this overwhelming urge to protect you bubbled up in his stomach. the stresses of his job flowing out of him and he felt a pinch in his throat.

all he wanted was to keep you closer to him, to never be without you. to keep you safe.

his fingers pricked with nerves as he grunted into your neck. leaving his mark down your throat, a few on your shoulder and down to the swell of your breast.

gods, he fucking loved you.

"i love you," he murmured against your skin, “so goddamn much."

your breath hitched at his words, tears lining your waterline at the flood of emotion’s that ran through you.

he loved you.

you focused on the way he sunk into you, the push and pull of his movements because if you didn’t, you’d start to weep.

you gently tugged on his hair and he let you, finally meeting your gaze as you sent him a teary smile.

“yeah?” your voice was watery, thick with emotion as you looked over his features. the slight crook of his nose, the scar that ran across his face. the fullness of his lips, and finally to his eyes.

that were filled with warmth, and fear, and everything else laid bare for you to see.

he nodded, pressing his lips to yours as his thrust grew more shallow. as if he couldn’t stand the thought of being any further from you.

“yeah, i fuckin’ love you.”

and the tears began to leak from your eyes. they were hot as they ran down your cheeks, a watery laugh leaving your mouth as you kissed him.

“i love you too.”

simon’s arms enveloped you once again, bring you up with him as he gently eased out of you. not once did his hands leave you as he guided you to straddle him.

his fingers digging into your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance once again. chest to chest, faces not even an inch away as he groaned at the feeling of you sinking onto him.

your lips eagerly found his mouth again. massaging your tongue against his, claiming his mouth as you swallowed down his moans and grunts.

your hips rising and falling in a lazy rhythm. up and down, grinding yourself against him as your lips locked feverishly.

“fuck,” he broke apart from you to lick down your throat. sucking and kissing bruises onto your skin, “i love you.”

his praises and soft caresses making your skin buzz, you felt like you were on fire. your eyes shut tightly as you focused on the feeling of his mouth, the feeling of his cock buried inside of you.

“wish i could stay like this forever.”

and you nodded, tightening around him to show your agreement.

you were both in perfect sync. his hands guiding your hips as you bounced, chest heaving roughly at the same time as it crept up on both of you.

white hot pleasure coiling deep in both of your belly’s as you rode him.

your climax hit harmoniously, feeling the warmth of his release fill you as you tightened around him.

both of you were panting, still connected when he laid you both down. your head tucked into his neck as his hands ran down the expanse of your back. soft whispers of i love you’s and sweet nothings lulling the two of you to sleep.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley x afab reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #call of duty #cod

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sundrop-writes · 1 month

Text

Careful - Chapter Six (Finale)

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Six: That's What You Get

That’s what you get when you let your heart win.

Summary:

Spencer finally confronts the man who has been threatening you, and even if things don't go according to plan, he finds the strength to overcome - to protect you and your son.

Even if he's unsure about what comes next, he knows one thing - he's never been happier.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Smut, Angst, and Fluff.

Word Count: 10,400

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Warning - this chapter has not been edited. Thanks to this lovely anon, I have been motivated to post this chapter as soon as possible, and so I am posting it without editing it to get it off my plate. It may not be as good or as thoughtful as the other chapters because it's not edited... but I'm not even sure I care.

Detailed warnings below the cut and author's notes at the very end of the fic.

Warnings: (this list may not be as detailed or complete as other chapters because usually I write the warnings list while editing, and I have not edited this chapter, so I do apologise if I have accidentally left out some warnings. this is all from memory and I'm pretty sure this is everything); typical Criminal Minds warnings - mentions of murder and killing, the UnSub attacks Spencer and the reader; descriptions of physical violence (mostly done to Spencer because the reader gets away); the UnSub and Spencer get into a physical fight; mentions of Spencer having injuries from the UnSub's attack; Sebastian is completely unharmed; mentions of Emily being drugged in the form of a (fictional) knock-out gas; mentions of the anxiety and bad emotions that this kind of attack can cause; Spencer and the reader have sex - unprotected p in v sex; mentions of potential body insecurity after giving birth; breeding kink; mentions of pregnancy - and I believe that's it.

...

“Go upstairs, get Sebastian, take him in your room and lock the door. Call JJ or any contact in his phone labeled BAU. Call until they pick up and tell them that we need back up here. No matter what happens or what you hear, do not open the door for anybody. Got it?”

The words had barely penetrated your ears, your heart thumping so hard in your chest that you could barely process it.

Go upstairs. Get Sebastian. Call JJ.

You clutched Spencer’s phone tight in your hand, knowing that it was imperative not to lose it, not to drop it along the way.

Spencer moved toward the source of the noise, toward your office door, yielding the kitchen knife in hand as his weapon and you slid off the counter on shaking legs as you ran toward the stairs. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the office door burst open - it opened in the direction to smack Spencer in the face; clearly, the man had heard him approaching and opened the door with the intention to hit him with it. You heard Spencer grunt in pain and you saw blood.

The door had hit him the face, maybe broken his nose.

You paused on the bottom stare.

“Spencer-!”

“The good doctor won’t be your problem anymore.” The man growled, emerging from the darkness of your office.

He was wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt, partially obscuring his face, and you froze in fear as he stalked down the hallway toward you. Heavy boots stomping across the floor as a dizzy Spencer tried to recover from the injury.

“Go!” Spencer choked out, his mouth filling with blood as it leaked from his nose.

You screamed at your legs to move, and you stumbled upward, crawling up the stairs on your hands at knees.

You let out a scream when you felt a strange, gloved hand on your hip - another hand desperately gripping onto the waistband of your pants, as though trying to pull you backwards by the fabric.

“Spencer!”

You screamed out his name on instinct, no other word coming to your lips when you were terrified - thinking of no one else who could save you when your limbs collapsed, shaking from terror.

Suddenly then, the foreign hands of a monster were gone from you.

“Go!” Spencer screamed again, his voice slightly muffled. You heard a thump, but couldn’t look behind you. You could only guess that it was Spencer wrestling the man away from you - keeping you out of danger. “Go, Y/N!”

You forced your limbs to work, and you pushed yourself up, panting out anxious breaths as you climbed up the stairs, your heart nearly racing out of your chest as you escaped the man who had been intending to kill you.

…

Meanwhile, at the police station, JJ walked into the conference room nursing another cup of coffee.

“Hey, did you send someone over to watch over the house?” She asked Hotch.

“I sent Prentiss over with one of the locals.” Hotch nodded.

This calmed JJ a bit. She knew that Prentiss was good. Even if she didn’t know you, she was protective. She wouldn’t let anything happen to you on her watch.

Hotch then became absorbed in a file he was reading and JJ became distracted when Morgan spoke to her.

“Can you believe that pretty boy might actually be a dad?” He posed, slumping back in his chair with a tired huff.

“Might be?” JJ asked, wondering what he meant.

“Well…” Morgan turned the chair toward her, and he gave a distinct, stiff expression - one of dubious uncertainty.

JJ raised her brows back in return.

“Do you really think that she would lie to Spencer about this?” JJ pressed.

“Well… I don’t know. I just can’t imagine Reid makin’ the home-run in order to have a kid.” Morgan shrugged.

JJ let out a dry laugh.

“Come on, get serious.” She sighed. “I mean… I did consider that too.” She said. “But he told me that they definitely…” She finished off this thought with a simple expression to explain what she meant, and Morgan grinned and laughed.

“Oh, my man.” He said, clearly proud of the idea of Spencer having enough sex to produce a child. “I can’t believe playboy had a girlfriend and didn’t tell me.”

“I think he was embarrassed.” JJ shrugged. “Like… back then we all considered him a baby. And he didn’t wanna disappoint us, or have us make fun of him.”

Morgan nodded. “Good point.” He sipped his own coffee. “Well… now he’s stuck payin’ child support cause he didn’t come to Uncle Morgan for The Talk and he didn’t know how to use a condom.”

JJ giggled and shook her head.

“You know what Spencer actually said to me?” JJ posed.

Morgan hummed in reply, now curious.

“He said that he would be disappointed if he found out that the kid wasn’t his.” She told him, remarking on the earlier conversation that she had with Reid.

Morgan chuckled. “Well, what does that look like to you?” He said, picking up one of the stalker photos that the UnSub had sent of you and your son. Clearly, he was saying that by looks alone - it was very likely Spencer’s kid.

“Tiny Spencer.” JJ chuckled.

“I would say it’s pretty safe to confirm that the kid is his.” Morgan shrugged.

JJ nodded, and then he added on:

“He’s probably gonna come in here and tell us how many germs are on preschool toys, and the likelihood of falling down in a playground accident.” Morgan remarked, making a joke about Spencer’s traits passing on to his son (not yet knowing how true it actually was).

JJ let out a bright laugh. “Oh my god.”

…

Spencer was nearly blinded with pain when the UnSub shoved the door back into his face, and he tried his best to use sheer force of will to power through it.

He couldn’t let a simple little injury get in the way. He had to protect you now. He had to protect his son.

He heard you scream and when he looked over, that man had his filthy hands all over you, clearly trying to pull you down the stairs toward him.

“Spencer!” You called out desperately, clearly looking for his help.

“Go!” Spencer yelled at you, encouraging you to get away.

Spencer ran over to the stairs and without hesitation, grabbed the man by the back of his sweatshirt, hauling him off you with a strength he didn’t know he had, and looping his arm around the man’s shoulder in order to raise the hand wielding the kitchen knife - he stabbed blindly and landed a shallow blow between the UnSub’s ribs, causing him to grunt and stumble backwards onto Spencer, knocking them both over - making Spencer hit the ground hard on his back with the man’s weight falling on top of him.

“Go, Y/N!” He yelled, wheezing past the pain of the fall as he pushed the man off him, tightly keeping his grip on the knife, pulling it out of the wound as he moved, knowing that it would do the most damage to leave the cut gaping and bleeding freely - hoping that the man would pass out from blood loss.

Spencer heard thumping as you ran up the stairs, and he hoped that the UnSub wouldn’t chase you - he was still dizzy from having his head knocked around twice in the past five minutes, and suddenly, the knife was snatched out of his hand as the man rose to his feet, somehow so lively and energetic after just being stabbed.

“How kind of you, Doctor Reid.” The man grinned down at him, whipping the hood off his head, revealing a menacing, cold smile on a terribly average face. He pressed a boot into the middle of Spencer’s chest, making him cough and sputter as the air was pressed out of him by pressure on his sternum. “You brought me the knife that I’m going to kill your whore with.”

Those words somehow gave Spencer all the power he needed. Pure, unbridled rage fueling him - the thought that he had failed you all those years ago, that he had been the monster in your life and he needed to rise up and defeat the monster for you now.

He reached up and dug his fingers into a tender nerve in the man’s calf, something he knew simply from studying human anatomy in books, and the muscles in his leg went limp - Spencer then used his grip to pull the man’s leg forward, knocking his whole body off-kilter and sending him falling onto his back. Spencer climbed on top of him and delivered a weak punch before he was flipped over again - when the UnSub raised the knife toward him, Spencer instinctively put up his arm and felt something slice through his flesh, but the pain didn’t register with the adrenaline pumping through his body.

He jabbed two sharp fingers into the man’s windpipe, leaving him gasping while he got up and ran toward the kitchen - in honesty, looking for more tools to harm the man with. A frying pan, perhaps. He only made it partway through the living room before the UnSub caught up to him, and pinned him against one of the large bookshelves that you had bracketing the television - when Spencer felt the sharp blade of the knife ghosting against his throat, he instinctively went stalk still.

“There ya go.” The man whispered. “Gentle now.”

“Fuck you.” Spencer rasped out in reply, struggling for a moment against the hold - he felt the blade just barely bite at his skin, not yet cutting - and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get very far.

“Stop struggling, Doctor.” The man mocked him, fisting the front of his shirt, forcing him to be still. Spencer’s heart thumped in his chest, and though there was an undertone of fear, rage was the headliner still as it pulsed through him. “I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go.”

Spencer remained silent, allowing himself more time to think as the man rambled on.

“I’m gonna take this knife, and I’m gonna stab it right through your spine, severing your spinal cord. So you won’t be able to move. You won’t be able to run, or fight. You won’t be able to do a damn thing to save her.” The man explained with vervant, graphic joy. “And I’m gonna prop you up right over there-” He motioned to one of the living room chairs with a single finger. “So that you can watch while I fuck your bitch. With my cock and with my knife. And you can beg, and you can cry the whole time. Right up until I slit her pretty throat. And I’ll probably even leave you alive. So that you can just… live with the knowledge that you’re a pathetic little worm who couldn’t save her. And then, I think I’m gonna take your kid with me when I leave.” He chuckled. “I’ll raise him up good, so that he can come back and finish off Daddy when he gets older.”

He reached up and slapped Spencer on the cheek - just a tap, just enough to humiliate him along with the words.

“Does that sound like a plan, Doctor?”

Spencer let out an enraged huff. Like a bull rearing up to charge.

If he wanted to play - then Spencer could play.

Especially because the pathology was all too clear now.

“I get it now.” Spencer let out the words casually. “You know, we thought that because you were targeting single mothers, you had been neglected by your mother in childhood and you were taking out an inherent rage that you had toward women ever since. But it all makes sense now.” He chucked.

The UnSub looked at him with intrigue in his eyes, and didn’t speak, so clearly he wanted to know what it was that Spencer had to say - he was too curious by the breakdown of his own mind that Spencer was going to give him.

Spencer took an uninterested glance up at the ceiling, making the man wait more for him to continue speaking, and then he saw it. His way to truly gain the upper hand.

Sebastian’s Halloween candy bucket was balanced right on the edge of the shelf above his head. It would be the perfect surprise.

“You hated your father for abandoning you.” Spencer concluded, looking back at the man with a purely smug expression. “So now you feel a need to play Daddy to get some kind of personal fulfillment - to supposedly be the man that your father never was. And you feel an intense rage toward any man who supposedly abandoned their own child in return - which is what you think I’ve done.”

Spencer grinned.

“But I’ll give you a little newsflash. You’ll never be a good father, and you’ll never get anywhere near my son.”

Spencer then bumped himself backwards into the shelf, knocking the candy bucket down onto the UnSub’s head - it wasn’t heavy, but the plastic hitting him, along with the sudden rain of candy made him jolt with the surprise, causing him to jump backward, finally removing the knife from Spencer’s throat.

This gave Spencer the chance to tackle him.

…

When you raced to the top of the stairs and got to Sebastian’s room, he was peeking nervously through a crack in the door at you.

“Mommy?” He asked anxiously. “What’s that noise?”

“Come here.” You reached your arms out to him and he ran to you, clearly understanding that it was urgent.

You hugged him tightly and took him down the hall, and you heard another crash from downstairs. Sebastian whimpered and hugged you back tightly.

‘No matter what happens or what you hear, do not open the door for anybody.’

Spencer’s instructions had been very clear, but - you couldn’t leave him alone. You couldn’t leave him to go through hell by himself. Not this time.

You knew exactly what you needed to do.

You took Sebastian into your room and locked the door, just as Spencer had said, and then you took him over to your closet and set him down inside.

“Mommy, what’s happening?” Sebastian asked, his voice clearly verging on tears.

“Seb, you have to listen very carefully.” You told him, gently grabbing both sides of his face, still holding the phone, forcing his attention toward you.

Unfortunately, none of the parenting books you had read described how to talk to a child about a situation like this, so you went with your gut. You tried to speak in a calm voice so as not to alarm him, but you wanted to speak honestly and stress the seriousness of the situation.

“There is a bad man in the house.” You said, firmly. “If the bad man finds you, he could hurt you. So you have to hide in the closet, okay?”

“Okay.” Sebastian said, his voice small and frightened. Your gut twisted knowing that he was afraid - but you were going to do everything in your power to keep him from getting hurt.

“Spencer is trying to make the bad man go away. But I have to go help him.” You added on. “I’m going to dial a number on the phone. And you’re gonna talk to my friend JJ. And you’re gonna tell her that we need her to come and help. Okay?”

Sebastian was smart. You trusted him to do it.

You flipped open the phone and found JJ’s contact among the most recent, and selected it.

“If no one answers then you hit this button.” You told Sebastian, showing him the ‘redial’ button. “Okay?”

He nodded.

“Okay, here. Take the phone and go in there.” You pointed for him to go further back into the large closet, and you grabbed a teddy bear off your bed that he had there from a few nights before and passed it in to him. “We can’t turn on the light because you’re hiding, okay?” You told him.

He looked up at you with those big eyes, and you saw nothing but Spencer.

“I’m brave.” He told you with certainty.

You felt as though you were stabbed in the chest as you closed the closest door, leaving him there. You heard another loud bang from downstairs, which caused you to move with more urgency - you had a large bookshelf, filled to the brim with books, beside the closet, and usually, it wouldn’t be something that you’d be able to move even an inch without help (or without unloading it, taking away the books first). But you moved to the side and pushed - and pushed with all your might, making it scrape across the floor until it was fully covering the closet door.

Hearing more indiscernible shouts coming from downstairs, you moved with renewed determination toward your side table, ripping it open and grabbing the lockbox, putting in the code and grabbing your gun.

When you made it to the bottom of the stairs on shaking legs, the sight before you utterly shocked you.

…

JJ didn’t think anything of it when her phone rang.

The team was currently split up - Prentiss was at the end of your block, sitting in an unmarked car with one of the local police officers, looking out for anything suspicious as they watched over your house. And the rest of the team was following up on something - a few hours after the UnSub had sent the letter containing pictures of you, and the pictures of JJ and Reid at your doorstep, he had sent another letter.

It was a set of photographs of a woman dead on her kitchen floor - a completely different woman, murdered, with the white carnations in a halo around her head, clearly killed by him. On the back of one of the photos it said ‘you lose’.

The team panicked, thinking that he had picked another target because there had been too much police attention on you, but when they found out who the woman was, they realized that she had been murdered months ago - she was one of his first. It had just been another distraction to keep their attention off you.

“Reid, hey-” JJ greeted, thinking that it was just Spencer calling to check in.

“Hello?”

She was shocked to hear a small, young voice on the other end.

“Hey there.” She called back gently, instantly switching into ‘mom mode’. It took her only a moment to put it together - whose voice it was. “You must be Sebastian.”

“My name is Sebastian.” He confirmed. “Are you Mommy’s friend JJ?”

“Yes, I’m JJ.” She said. “Did you take Daddy’s phone?”

She didn’t even consider it a slip-up - she didn’t think for a second that you and Spencer hadn’t yet told him that Spencer was his father.

She thought that Sebastian had taken Spencer’s phone and was pressing buttons out of curiosity, and had simply dialed the last number that was in the call history by accident.

“Mommy gave me the phone.” Sebastian told her. “She said to call for help. There’s a bad man in the house.”

JJ’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Her throat clenched up, and all at once, she felt an intense urgency.

“Oh, okay.” She said, trying not to sound too panicked - trying not to alert Sebastian to her feelings, knowing she had to keep him calm. “Where are you, buddy?”

She walked swiftly toward the conference room, knowing that she had to get Hotch to call Prentiss. She had no clue how the UnSub got into the house past Prentiss’s watchful eyes, but they had to get in there and help - now.

“I’m hiding in the closet.” Sebastian told her. “Mommy told me too.”

“That’s good.” JJ replied. “You stay there. I’m sending my friends to help you. My friend Emily is gonna come and get you, okay?”

JJ waved Hotch down and he came to stand in front of her.

She clasped her hand over the end of her phone before she spoke to him in a low, urgent voice.

“I’ve got Y/N’s kid on the phone, he says that the UnSub is in the house. Get Prentiss in there now.” She told him.

Hotch nodded and ran off to grab a landline off the hook in order to call them.

“Is Mommy gonna get hurt?” He asked softly, clearly afraid of this possibility.

JJ’s throat clenched tighter.

“It’s gonna be okay.” She said, making a promise that she hoped she could keep. “I’ll stay on the phone with you until my friends get there, okay?”

“I’m scared.” Sebastian whimpered.

“She’s not picking up.” Hotch told JJ. “We’ve gotta go.”

…

About ten feet down from your house, in a perfect spot to view the front door, Prentiss and the local officer - a man named Bleu - were parked in an inconspicuous, FBI owned vehicle. One of the back windows was broken, and in the backseat was a canister letting out a dangerous vapor - one that knocked them both unconscious within seconds (an item that was typically used for military purposes).

An annoying, digital chirping rang through the car as both of their phones chimed off, going unanswered as chaos continued inside the house.

…

You were shocked to see Spencer in the middle of the floor, straddling the unknown man - beating him to death.

Spencer looked crazed, blood dripping down his face from his nose, a look of pure, homicidal rage in his eyes as he held the man by the front of his shirt, lifting his fist and committing blow after blow to his now very mangled face. There was a large gash on Spencer’s forearm from the fight, and the kitchen knife had been flung across the floor, but now, it seemed that the man was entirely defenseless as Spencer laid into him out of pure spite.

The man was laying in a pool of his own blood, dripping from some wound you couldn’t see through the darkness - Spencer had done quite a number on him, and while you knew that you should have felt scared, all you felt was a flare of pride at his protectiveness and that lust from before dangerously creeping back in.

“You think that you can just come into this house? Come into his house where my son and my wife sleep?” Spencer screamed, using the front of the man’s shirt to lift him up limply to scream even closer to his face. “Did you think there wouldn’t be consequences?”

My wife.

He was taking ownership over you, protecting you.

Because that emotional dam had just burst, and he was still so fragile, all of that love he had felt for you was molding into rage, and hatred toward this man.

How dare he try to hurt you.

He tossed another punch, and the man laughed.

He was so badly beaten - you didn’t think that he was still conscious, let alone capable of speech.

“You - you feel like a man, yet?” The man mocked him. “You keep-” He choked, sputtering on his own blood. “You keep playin’ at it, Daddy. Maybe one day you’ll be what she n-needs.”

“He doesn’t have to play.” You said, cocking the gun and raising it toward the man. “He’s more of a man and a better father than you could ever be.”

Spencer raised his hand to deliver another hit, and you spoke up again.

“Spencer.” You said his name firmly, causing his muscles to freeze up. “It’s time to cuff him now. Your son is upstairs waiting for you.”

You knew it was a choice for him. He could have easily let those darker instincts get a hold of him again - he could have given in to the urge to beat the man to death simply for thinking of hurting you.

But you didn’t want that. Not because you thought the man deserved to live, but because you didn’t want a murderer for a future husband.

Spencer stood up, walking over to you.

“I have zip ties in my bag.” He told you, motioning over toward it.

He took the gun from you, and when the man made a sluggish, concussed move for the knife, Spencer kicked him hard in the gut.

“Don’t move!” He screamed. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this.”

He let out another harsh, breathless laugh.

“You - you let the bitch rule your life.” He continued to mock Spencer. “Talk about spineless and dickless, and-”

Spencer kicked him again.

You handed Spencer the zip ties and took back the gun, keeping it trained on the man as Spencer secured him.

“I can assure you that he’s definitely not dickless.” You felt the need to add on.

Spencer rolled his eyes at this, but you caught him suppressing a grin.

You jumped when you heard a loud bang - someone knocking on the front door.

“FBI! We have you surrounded!” A man’s voice, someone you didn’t recognize, screamed out.

Spencer was quick to respond, his knee digging into the man’s back as he tightened the zip ties.

“Hotch, we’ve got him down!” Spencer yelled back, apparently knowing the man’s name. “You don’t have to charge in, Y/N is gonna open the door!”

Spencer nodded toward you, and you lowered the gun, still shaking as you moved to unlock the door. You opened it to find a stern faced man holding a gun, but the moment that he saw you - tear streaked, shaking, your clothes ruffled and your general appearance shaken - his expression instantly softened and he lowered his gun down to his side.

“Miss, are you alright?” He asked, stepping in, looking around before he gave you a quick up-and-down glance, clearly inspecting you for injuries.

“I’m fine.” You quickly blurted out. “Spencer’s in there.” You motioned back into the living room and then several people flooded into the house, and when you saw JJ again, you let out a sob of relief, and upon instinct, she pulled you into a tight hug.

You clutched onto her tightly and she hugged you right back.

After a moment, a bit too soon for you considering how shaken up you were feeling, she pulled away and held you by the shoulders.

“Where’s Sebastian?” She asked you urgently.

You grabbed her hand and turned to race up the stairs - while behind you, Spencer and Morgan hoisted the man off the ground and walked him outside to the squad car waiting to take him into holding - though he would likely need some medical attention along the way. While Hotch directed everyone around the house - the CSI team needed to collect evidence, making sure the scene was secure. And Rossi was outside making sure that Emily got into the ambulance okay as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

“This isn’t over!”

Naturally, the man was still in the mood to taunt.

“One of these days, when-”

“Shut it, scumbag.” Morgan ordered, shoving the man forward. “You lost. Get over it.”

Spencer put his hand on the man’s head to ease him into the squad car, and then when he leaned in to fasten the seatbelt, he couldn’t hold back.

“See, the most wonderful part of all this is,” He whispered lowly to the man. “Tonight, when I’m in bed with my beautiful wife,” He pressed. “When I’m balls deep inside of her perfect pussy - I’m not gonna be thinking of you. Not even for a second.”

The man had a stern, sour scowl on his face. Spencer had truly won.

He rose up and slammed the door, giving a knock on the hood of the car to let the driver know to take the man away.

“Holy shit, pretty boy, what happened to your arm?” Morgan asked, letting out a low whistle of shock as he reached for Spencer’s wrist to further inspect the injury.

“Knife.” Spencer mumbled, quickly snatching his arm back.

He didn’t need to be herded into an ambulance right now - he needed to check on his son.

Spencer quickly moved back toward the house, and Morgan naturally followed him.

“A knife?!” He replied, clearly shocked. “You were stabbed?!”

“I wasn’t stabbed.” Spencer spoke the words in a jolt over his shoulder, still charging forward, up the stairs. “It was more of a slash. It’s just a cut. It’s minor.”

“‘It’s just a cut. It’s minor.’” Morgan repeated, mocking Spencer in a childish, whiny voice as he followed him up the stairs. “The man becomes a father and thinks he’s the Terminator all of a sudden.”

Spencer passed Sebastian’s bedroom and glanced in, and didn’t see anyone - he heard a commotion of voice coming from the bedroom and rushed toward the sounds.

He was surprised to see you and JJ standing on either side of a very large bookshelf, struggling to move it. The sight immediately confused him.

“How the hell did you move this thing by yourself?” JJ grunted out, trying to push it backward with her whole body while you pulled on it.

“What are you guys doing?” Spencer asked.

“Sebastian is behind here.” You informed them, breathless from the effort of trying to move it without the hellish adrenaline rush pumping through you. “I moved it to hide him, in case-” You unintentionally huffed out another sob just thinking about what could have happened.

Spencer rushed to pull you into his arms, and you collapsed against his hold.

Somewhere muffled behind the thickness of the bookcase, there came:

“Mommy, get me out of here!”

You sobbed harder, thinking you had made a mistake, and JJ spoke up.

“We’re coming, buddy! It’s okay!”

“It’s just a bookcase.” Morgan chuckled.

He stepped forward, expecting that he would be able to move it with ease.

JJ stepped out of his way and Morgan put his shoulder against the side of the bookshelf, giving a shove. When it didn’t move after a moment, a look of intense shock fell over his face, and he looked at you in awe.

“You moved this thing all by yourself?” Morgan gaped at you. “Damn, woman!”

“Women have been known to lift cars off their children in life-threatening situations.” Spencer remarked, moving toward the bookcase and grabbing some of the books off it. “We have to take the books off.” He said to Morgan, incredibly snarky.

“Take the books off.” JJ sighed. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

Being stupid from urgency - is what you wanted to say.

But instead, you helped them unload the bookcase and place the books onto your bed, and when it was nearly empty, Spencer and Morgan managed to push it out of the way with ease.

You rushed to open the closet door and Sebastian rushed out to see you as you fell to your knees, crumbling in front of him as the worry and anxiety and adrenaline crashed, causing your whole body to become weak and tired in an instant.

“Mommy!”

You held him tight in your arms as you sobbed and Spencer looked on with warmth in his heart and sadness in his eyes, feeling like he didn’t deserve to intrude on the moment.

“Get over there, man.” Morgan told him quietly, giving him a nudge. “But when you come downstairs, you’re gettin’ your ass in that ambulance.”

Spencer felt a tired weakness growing within him, and he couldn’t help but to walk forward and settle onto his knees beside you and Sebastian, huddled together in a tight hug, clutching onto each other. He put a protective hand on each of you, and leaned in, giving you a kiss on the forehead - and he couldn’t resist the urge to plant a gentle kiss on the top of Sebastian’s head as well.

You managed to pry a shaking hand off of Sebastian, who still cuddled into your chest, and turn to Spencer, putting that hand on his shoulder - you leaned in then and kissed him on the mouth - sweet, gentle, loving.

“Thank you.” You told, nearly breathless from tears. “You saved us. You protected us. I-”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Spencer told me. “You know that I would do anything for both of you.” He declared, his voice beginning to shake as the emotions of it all truly hit him.

“You got a boo-boo,” Sebastian said, his voice tired as he motioned to the blood still dripping from Spencer’s nose.

The boy had finally unburied himself from your chest to look at Spencer, and clearly took great concern in the fact that he was hurt.

“Oh, I’m okay, bud.” Spencer insisted, reaching up to wipe it.

“Oh my god, Spencer, your arm!” You gasped - with Sebastian bringing attention to his injuries, you finally realized the full extent. His nose was bruising from being hit by the door, he had several scratches and bruises in other places, his knuckles were horribly bruises and bloodied from punching that man so many times, and most distractingly, there was a large gash on his arm - looking like a cut from a knife. “Spence, you have to get that checked out.”

“I will.” He assured you. He couldn’t say no to you.

He sighed and got up - knowing that he couldn’t delay his trip to the ambulance for too much longer.

“Did you get the bad man?” Sebastian asked, looking up at Spencer with large, expectant eyes.

“He did.” You assured him with a kiss on the forehead. “He got the bad man. He made sure that nobody was gonna hurt us.”

With this realization, Sebastian tore out of your arms and ran toward Spencer, and Spencer instinctively leaned down again, picking him up to pull him into a hug. He feared getting blood on him - but that thought passed as soon as he felt the comfort of having his son tight in his arms.

“You should stay forever.” Sebastian told him, intentionally quieter so that you might not hear. “No bad man could get us if you’re here.”

Spencer felt a large lump rise up in his throat.

“I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. Ever.” He told him, giving him another tight squeeze before he put him down. “Go with your mom. I have to go get my… my boo-boo checked. Okay?”

Sebastian nodded and ran back to you, and Spencer went to leave, before pausing.

“You should probably get some things together. I doubt that you’re gonna be able to stay here tonight, and the CSI teams are gonna be coming in and out. They’ll probably pay for you to have a hotel room.” He informed you.

“Will you stay with us?” You asked, your throat edging with anxiety once again. “Spence - I - I can’t sleep alone.”

There was no way he could deny you.

“Of course.”

…

Spencer went to the hospital, and you were taken to the police station for questioning. Not that you had done anything wrong, of course - the team just thought that you could fill in a few more details for them while Spencer (forcefully) got checked out. (And of course, he rushed to check up on Emily the minute that the doctors were done with him.)

After running the suspect’s fingerprints, they were able to show you a mugshot, and you let out a horrified sob as you finally identified him.

He was your neighbor. A man who had been living across the street from you for the last two months, at least. He had helped you carry in groceries before - he had seemed so friendly. You hadn’t recognized him laying on your living room floor in the dark, beaten and bloodied. But it was most definitely him.

After a thorough search of your house and the house across from yours - one he had apparently been subletting from a retired couple who were off traveling, seeing the world during their golden years - crime scene techs turned up several important things.

More than a dozen bugs. Microphones that he had planted everywhere in your home - apparently, he had broken in some time when you had been gone, and planted microphones in your house plants, your cupboards, your bedroom, and Sebastian’s bedroom. Which would explain the large notebook he had, detailing every single conversation that you and Spencer had since the moment that he had arrived - explaining all of the information that he knew about you and Spencer. There was also a large telescope, set up, pointed directly at your house. And a camera - and a large wall with far more pictures of you.

There were also five other notebooks, and a scrapbook with photographs of his other victims. The back page of each of those books detailed where their orphaned children were, how they were doing since he had killed their mothers.

Just as you were peaking in anxiety, Spencer returned from the hospital and stopped the interrogation. It was time for you and Sebastian to get some rest - some real rest.

Spencer needed eleven stitches, and a splint for his nose. All in all - he had a concussion, severely fucked up knuckles, and two bruised ribs.

That didn’t stop him from carrying his son to bed after he had fallen asleep in the back of one of the bureau’s SUVs.

…

Spencer helped you into your hotel room, with you carrying the small overnight bags that you had packed for you and Sebastian and Spencer carrying Sebastian in his arms as he slept. Even with Spencer bruised and slightly battered, it was a peaceful, welcome sight. It looked like something that should have happened a thousand times before - the boy fit perfectly into his arms, that head of curls resting perfectly under his chin while Spencer supported him with an arm under his bum, and walked over to the nightstand, using his free hand to turn on the gentle yellow light of a lamp while you put down the bags and closed and locked the door behind you.

Spencer began clumsily peeling back the covers with one hand and you rushed over to help him - rearranging the pillows and peeling back the covers so that he could place Sebastian gently in the bed. Once he did, you grabbed a blanket that belonged to him that you had brought from home and put that on him before Spencer pulled up the covers, and you handed him the plush toy that Spencer had bought him to put beside him.

He stirred slightly, but for the most part - he was so exhausted that he didn’t move or wake up.

Spencer took a moment to watch him and you didn’t disrupt.

You knew this was a moment you had missed - many parents watched over their newborn sleeping in the crib days after bringing them home from the hospital, and this was that moment for the both of you now.

After a prolonged silence, Spencer cleared his throat and stepped away - you expected him to go toward the bathroom to freshen up before bed or something like that, but instead:

“This door goes to my room.” He said, keeping his voice quiet so as to not wake Sebastian, motioning to a door that you were just now realizing was there - clearly adjoining the rooms for people who knew each other but didn’t want to sleep in the same room. And it had a lock on it for the sake of privacy. “Just knock if you need anything.”

This made your insides crash with disappointment. You thought that you had made yourself pretty clear when you said - ‘I can’t sleep alone’.

You and Spencer were supposed to be sleeping in the same bed. He was supposed to stay right there with you; even if that man who had intended to kill you was in police custody, you still had that feeling of anxiety looming over you. You still needed Spencer nearby to make you feel safe. A giant wall separating the two of you just wasn’t going to do that.

“Separate rooms?” You squeaked out.

“Yeah.” He replied. “I thought it would make you feel more comfortable.”

More comfortable.

Against your better instincts, you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Spencer gave you a smile, and then, his body stuttering awkwardly, he leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said quietly.

“Goodnight, Spence.”

He moved across the room and unlocked the door and moved into his own room, and when he closed it behind him, you heard the click of the lock on the other side - him putting up a very clear barrier between the two of you.

Somehow, after everything the two of you had talked about - he still didn’t get it.

You glanced at Sebastian, who was in a deep sleep, and then looked over at the door.

You knew that he would be fine on his own for a little while. He would likely sleep well for the next few hours, and if he woke up and yelled out for you, you would hear him. So you walked up to the door, and after hesitating for a fraction for a second - you knocked.

…

Spencer answered the door.

“Can I come in?”

Naturally, he looked past you to Sebastian’s sleeping body.

“He’ll be fine on his own for a little while.” You told him, already knowing what he was thinking. “I just wanted to talk. Ya know - grown-up time.”

Secretly, deep down, you were hoping for the double entendre to actually pay off this time.

“Just a few minutes.” Spencer replied. “Then you need to get some rest.”

You wanted to scoff at this. But you knew that it was out of caring.

“How’s the arm doing?” You asked as Spencer gently closed the door behind you.

“Ten stitches, no big deal.” He replied, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No big deal?” You scoffed. “I remember a time when you used to freak out and cry over a paper cut, Spence.” You giggled gently. “You used to make me kiss it and put a band-aid on it for you.”

Mentally, you were brought back to the nights when you and Spencer would have ‘reading dates’. You would each bring a book for the other person, something you thought the other person would like or something you were excited for them to read, and then you would sit curled up under a large blanket on Spencer’s couch, both reading in tandem, only breaking the peaceful silence to discuss a particular interesting passage or to compliment the other person’s choice in some way.

This was a time when something like a paper cut was the most dangerous threat to your lives.

Oh, how times change.

“Maybe it was just an excuse to get a kiss from you.” Spencer said, all cheek - he looked at you through his lashes as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, having already shed his tie and his top buttons - and the full power of those schoolgirl butterflies would have been ignited by this look, if not for-

“Your knuckles.” You gasped, suddenly spotting the bright red abrasions, the obnoxious bruising that was starting to form on his dominant hand.

“Oh, ah - I’m fine.” Spencer lied, moving the hand in front of his own eyes to look, suddenly realizing how bad it was for himself.

Upon instinct, you stepped forward, and took his hand into the gentle grasp of your own. Without a word, operating entirely on the ghost of your own need - you lifted that hand up to your lips, and kissed across this knuckles, feather-light - a silent ‘thank you’ for all he had done for you. A moment of gratitude for his service in defeating the monster who had entered your home.

When you caught his eye again, you saw nothing but pure lust swimming there.

He pulled you into his lap, and the kiss - it was nothing but pure, burning fire.

…

Spencer kissed along your stomach, from one hip to the other - he stopped along the way to draw gentle, appreciative licks along the stretch marks.

“No cesarean scar.” He noted, mumbling against your skin.

“I had him naturally.” You noted. “So… things might be a bit of a mess down there.” You chuckled awkwardly, still feeling self conscious.

It was one of the reasons you hadn’t brought anyone into your bed since the break-up with Spencer. You had been self conscious of your postpartum body. You had heard horror stories from other mothers that you interacted with at daycare or the park (especially the married ones) about how their husbands just didn’t see them the same way after giving birth, about how all the romance and sex fizzled out after they had their child, and how any other children in the marriage were thanks to porn or toys ‘getting their husbands going’.

You really didn’t need to bring a man into your bed just to laugh at you. Inviting someone into an intimate moment just to have them mock you - that would have broken you. You couldn’t risk a relapse of your eating disorder because of it - not when Sebastian needed you strong and healthy.

“Hmm, no.” Spencer said, fully confident.

He pulled away slightly, taking a glance down at your glistening cunt, and for good measure, his inquiring eyes making you feel naked as he inspected you, giving you the urge to close your legs - he ran his fingers along the needy, slightly swollen lips of your pussy as you puffed up with blood in anticipation of him, and he dipped his fingertips inside, making you moan.

“Your pussy is still fucking perfect.” He told you. “Just how I left it. You can’t even tell I put a baby in here.”

He wanted to add on: ‘Seems like I should change that.’ - But he didn’t want to push his luck.

That got you - and your legs involuntarily flinched, your thighs closing around his hand, causing him to give a cocky smirk.

“How long were you in labor for?” He asked, suddenly curious.

You found it to be a bit of an odd question to ask, especially while his fingers - two of them - ventured deeper into your wet hole.

But you indulged him nonetheless.

“Sixteen hours.” You told him. “No pain medication.”

You had been more afraid of the needle for the epidural than facing the pain. (You probably would have been brave enough to get it with Spencer there holding your hand, but… oh well.)

Later on, Spencer would get you to recount every moment of the pregnancy, and the labor of the delivery to him in detail. As much of it as you could remember - because he couldn’t be there for it, and he wanted as much of it as possible in mind. And again, you would indulge him - because you thought that he deserved to take in as much of what he had missed as possible.

“Fuck.” He sighed, in awe of you. He ran his free hand up your body, over your stomach, the place where his son had once grown and taken nourishment from your body as he developed, appreciating every inch of you as he moved to grab your breast. “You are a fucking warrior, aren’t you?”

The pure passion behind his words in that moment made you even wetter.

Spencer expelled every single one of your insecurities - he didn’t find you less attractive because your body wasn’t like it used to be. He found you even more grand and alluring. He found you more impressive, more beautiful than ever.

…

Not much later, Spencer’s cock was deep inside of you.

Neither of you had even thought of a condom - you couldn’t have been expecting this interaction, not for a moment, so neither of you had one in waiting. You had been off your birth control for months - you weren’t dating, and you found that the side effects weren’t agreeing with you, so you simply stopped taking the pill.

So as Spencer’s hips clashed against your inner thighs while you laid on your back in the middle of that hotel bed, both of you could only think of one beautifully selfish thing.

“Please, please, please!” You chanted, not daring to speak it aloud, but begging him for it, hoping that he would get the message from such few words.

He drove his cock into you with an even deeper urgency, whining deep in his chest as your perfect cunt dripping around him in hot waves, and whether it was your body writing him love letters or your mouth delivering him that sacred message in code, there was only one possible thought thumping between his ears.

“Let - let me,” He choked out brokenly. “Let me give you another one.” He grunted out, tonguing along your breast, feeling so beautifully bathed in the heat coming off your body. “Please! Oh, please let me put another baby in you!”

How could this not be the perfect victory?

“Yes!” You gasped out, locking your legs behind his back, causing a straining pain against your ribs where you had landed so hard on the stairs - but not daring to let him go, not letting him pull out. Not letting him have second thoughts. “Please! Oh god, yes!”

That was all Spencer needed.

He choked a groan into your chest and a moment later he was cumming deep inside of you - flooding the both of you with epic satisfaction, and the underlying comfort that you would be tied together forever. The comfort that no one was leaving this time.

…

You only rested for a moment after Spencer pulled out of you. Then, you were reaching for your clothes, knowing that Sebastian was in the other room - and he couldn’t wake up alone.

After you pulled on your shirt, you reached behind you and slapped Spencer’s bare thigh, making him jump slightly.

“Get some PJs.” You told him. “I told you, I’m not sleeping alone.”

Spencer grinned to himself.

He couldn’t help but to lay back and watch your bareness in the low light as you got up off the bed, searching for your underwear. He would get up in a minute. The soreness was truly setting into his body now - he needed a minute to truly motivate himself into getting up.

“I do have to ask,” He said, his voice low. “Why Sebastian?”

You chuckled at this.

“Please tell me it’s not because of that lobster from that movie you liked as a kid,” He added on.

“Okay, if you’re talking about The Little Mermaid, he’s a crab.” You replied, slightly snarky, glancing over your shoulder at him as you stepped into your underwear. “And no, that’s just a coincidence. Sebastian’s name comes from… our first date.” You corrected him. “I kept thinking about the music… the way you looked at me. And I didn’t want my son to be named Johann - it didn’t seem to suit him.”

Spencer imagined you sitting in the hospital, staring at the wrinkly newborn, wondering what his name would be with Joy of Man’s Desiring running through your mind.

…

Spencer spent a peaceful night with his son.

When Emily was released from the hospital, the team packed up to go home on the jet, and Spencer got clearance for you and Sebastian to go with them - you couldn’t stay in the home that was still technically a crime scene, and you would rather stay in Spencer’s cramped apartment for a few weeks while everything was being sorted out than be apart again.

During that jet ride, Morgan called Spencer ‘Daddy’, as a joke - and when you looked at Sebastian wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights, he lit up like a Christmas tree and then loudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen (which turned out to be everyone on the flight, someone who happened to be in the hangar, Penelope - who had rushed to meet Sebastian, the cab driver on the ride home, and the take out delivery person later that night) - that he was going to sleepover at his Daddy’s house. And he was very excited about it.

It was a tentative start - but you were a family now.

…

SIX MONTHS LATER

Spencer was still adjusting to his ‘new life’ - in the best way possible.

On the days he could, he took his paperwork home with him, and tore out of the office at the speed of sound, rushing to get home to you and his son as fast as he could - eager to spend as much time with the both of you as possible. On this particular day, he was able to shove a handful of files into his bag to be attended to after you and Sebastian were asleep, rushing out in time to pick up Sebastian from his new babysitter.

Sebastian went to the babysitter four days a week, giving you time to relax and attend to your work, and three days a week he had a tutor who came to the house to work with him independently. Other days, Spencer would work with him to teach him subjects that he was interested in - they would plan special outings to invest more time into learning the subjects that he wanted to know. They spent a lot of time at the natural history museum - some of the employees there were starting to know them by name (especially people who worked at the dinosaur exhibits).

When Spencer arrived at the babysitter’s house, Sebastian and the babysitter, Alex, were waiting for him eagerly by the fence while the other two children who had yet to be picked up played in the fenced-off front yard. Having Sebastian run into his arms and hug him so tightly when he knelt down to receive that hug - it was still by far, one of the best parts of his day. It felt like something that awakened his soul - something that gave him more energy than coffee ever could.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, buddy.” Spencer grinned. “How are you doing? What did you do today?”

“Today we made crafts and we played Simon Says - who is Simon anyway? Is that game named after Simon Barere? Did he get a game after him because he played the piano so good? Oh and-”

“Hey, hey, take a breath.” Spencer chuckled, amused by how fast Sebastian was speaking - so excited to tell Spencer about everything he had done that his words were fusing into one long syllable.

“I missed you.” Sebastian smiled.

Spencer gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I missed you too.”

Spencer raised to his full height and took Sebastian’s backpack from Alex, who then drew his attention to a piece of large white craft paper - seemingly the art activity from the day.

“He drew this,” Alex’s expression was half-amused, half-concerned.

Spencer quickly knew why. “Oh… well. I’ll show his mother.” He chuckled.

Spencer packed Sebastian into the car, buckling him into his carseat, and with Seb shouting at him through the rearview mirror, he got the full rundown of the day on their drive home. He was content and gleeful by the time his key was turning the lock to the front door - Sebastian running in through the gap when he barely had the door open with his hands full, screaming at the top of his lungs, looking for you.

“Mommy! Mommy?! We’re home!”

“I’m in here, Seb!”

You were calling from a room near the back of the house - what would be your and Spencer’s shared office. A room that was still packed full of boxes - deemed unimportant and low priority to unpack from the move.

“What are you doing?” Spencer hollered back, kicking the front door closed and dropping everything on a side table near the front door - temporarily forgetting about the picture that Sebastian had drawn in favor of seeking you out.

He was displeased to find you among the sea of boxes, your arms full with a heavy one as you heaved it aside.

“I, just - I was looking for something.” You grunted out.

Sebastian was already diving into one of the open boxes behind you - seemingly looking for something to interest him among the sea of books that you and Spencer had combined there.

Spencer rushed to take the box from you, not faring much better with it himself (Morgan had helped him move most of these - filled with books, into the room in the first place) - but he heaved it onto the top of another pile and then quickly moved to cradle a hand across your stomach, a bitterly protective mood coming over him.

You were four months along in your pregnancy, and Spencer was already of the belief that the growing resident in your stomach meant you had to be coddled to the utmost degree.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be lifting anything.” He chastised you sharply.

“I’m fine,” You replied. “When I was pregnant with Seb I did yoga and spin classes right up until I gave birth. This is nothing.”

“Yeah, but that’s exercise. You don’t need to strain yourself lifting heavy boxes, you-”

Spencer’s words were cut off when Sebastian spoke up, opening up a new line of conversation.

“Can I have this?” He asked brightly.

You turned to see him holding up a very thick book. You grabbed it from him gently, wanting to make sure it wasn’t one of Spencer’s books about murder cases or true crime - The American Guide to Constellations. You gave a soft smile.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You said, giving it back to him.

He cheered excitedly and ran off with the book, likely taking it to the large arm chair in the living room to read.

You reached out, going to grab another box to move it - and Spencer put his arm on top of the box, shoving it down.

“Excuse me,” You said sharply, glaring at him.

“What is so important?” He asked.

“I’ll tell you when I find it.” You replied.

He locked his jaw and stared you down, clearly waiting for a real answer.

“Look… those crime scene techs were tearing up my place, and… the move was so sudden… I just wanna make sure I didn’t lose it. And if I did lose it, I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

“Why would you disappoint me?” He asked.

“Just help me move this box.” You grunted back.

Spencer sighed, as usual - acquiescing to your wishes.

He struggled with the box you had motioned to, and while he found a place to put it, you opened up the box underneath it and sighed with relief when you pulled out a familiar looking shoebox - you struggled past a few objects inside. Old movie tickets, tickets stubs from the orchestra that you had kept, and Spencer looked over your shoulder with careful eyes for a moment, realization coming into his mind.

It was a time capsule of your relationship. Love letters he had written to you and left in books he had borrowed from you, a bowtie he had worn on a date and forgotten at your place after a particularly epic romp, a picture that he had drawn for you on a napkin while waiting for your food to arrive at a restaurant. And then -

“I really need to get this framed.” You noted, taking the certificate for the star he had gotten you out of the bottom of the box.

He felt it surge through him, just as fresh as he had felt it that night - that epic passion, that love for you, threatening to swallow him whole. Except now, he had it all. He had the house, the family he had been planning that whole time.

His life truly felt complete.

He couldn’t help it when he reached out and gently grasped your chin, pulling you in for a kiss, which you eagerly returned.

“Mommy, I made you a picture!” Sebastian called out, appearing in the doorway now, brandishing the drawing he had made - a lucky reminder of what Spencer had intended to show you.

You place down the certificate in the shoebox, hopefully to remember to bring it to some place to get it framed later - and you bent down at the waist to see what Sebastian had as crossed the room toward you.

“Oh, let me have a look.” You said, smiling at him.

As you took the picture, your face got that same expression - partly amused, partly confused as you took in the bizarre photo. Spencer watched over your shoulder, looking at the picture again.

It was an almost typical child-like drawing. Very colorful, crayons - a view of the new house, with stick figures labeled ‘Daddy, Me, and Mommy’ - except the one depicting you had a very round stomach, a long line clearly meant to be an umbilical cord spiraling out to a very alien-like realistic fetus that was labeled ‘Baby’. The two of you had been showing Sebastian baby-rearing books to get him mentally prepared for having a sibling, because you knew that he was smart enough to know and understand the (age appropriate) basics of pregnancy, and he understood eagerly that the baby in your belly would eventually be his new sibling.

And apparently - that translated to drawing it.

“Oh wow.” You said, trying to hide your shock at your son’s very intelligent, bizarre drawing. “Very beautiful.”

“I hope the baby likes my picture.” Sebastian said, smiling up at you.

“I’m sure the baby will love all your pictures.” You told him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“You’re gonna be a great big brother,” Spencer told him. “And good big brothers wash their hands so they can help with dinner,”

Sebastian nodded at this, and ran off toward the bathroom - clearly wanting to comply with this task.

“Maybe I should get this one framed too.” You chuckled as you stood up to your full height.

Spencer let out a laugh too. “I think it’s good. It shows he has a good comprehension of everything we’ve been telling him. And he’s excited to have a sibling. He doesn’t have any underlying jealousy, or-”

You were hit with a sudden wave of nausea. “Do you think he’s in the downstairs bathroom?”

You didn’t wait for an answer before you rushed out of the room. Spencer placed the star certificate in with his files, reminding himself to have it framed for you after work the next day, and then he went to the kitchen to wash up and start dinner. Soon, Sebastian joined him, eager to help wash vegetables and help stir pots while you were otherwise occupied.

Even though you currently had your head in a toilet - things in life were definitely looking up.

THE END

...

A/N: I want everyone to know that I have been feeling incredibly conflicted about this story. The original 'production' (so to speak) of this fic was disrupted by something in my personal life that left me feeling really emotional distraught, so the ending was kind of fucked from the start.

If you know me well or if you've been following me for a long time, you know that most of my multichapter fics are fics that were intended to be oneshots. Those fics are usually written within a one month period and then they are edited and posted the next month, so that way I don't lose momentum on a fic. If I don't do it that way, then I end up losing interest in a fic or getting Stage Fright and getting protective over a story when people actually see it. And if I get Stage Fright, it makes me want to just stop writing a story or delete it, even if people are enjoying reading it - I get very self conscious of a story I once enjoyed and was once really passionate about.

This fic was intended to be written within one month, but because that was disrupted, the ending was left unfinished. I kept convincing myself that I was going to do the full ending that I had plotted out - but when the more pivotal parts of the story began to unfold, I got Stage Fright, and I became far too protective of this story. Between several comments I have gotten (not just from one person); comments that have scared me back into my creative shell with this story in particular. And me believing that what happens in this particular chapter is not going to go over well because it's not a very cathartic, satisfying climax (it's meant to be an emotionally healing moment for the characters, not a cheering section moment for the audience) - and my own mental hang-ups, the original ending I had planned just will not come to fruition. And that ending did involve showing off more of Spencer's personal relationships, and a lot more fan service - like Sebastian meeting other members of the team for the first time. So anyway - have this shitty, rushed ending, because I just need this story off my plate, because it's not fun for me anymore!!!

Anyway - comment and reblog if you want, but I totally understand if this is not worthy of that lmao. I do not regard this as one of my better stories, not by far. (This would have been better off as a 20k oneshot, easily forgotten and finished in a few days.)

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid

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bountydroid · 26 days

Text

Darlin' pt 2

pt 1 / pt3

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (right now there is nothing romantic, maybe in the future I am undecided.)

Description: Where the reader arguably makes the stupidest decision of her life, following a ghoul who obviously doesn't want her there.

TW: Talk of physical abuse and bad parenting

I stayed there on my knees in the mud for some time. Stunned at the events that just transpired. I had nowhere to go, my wrists were still bound, and I had no weapon. I was truly fucked. I slowly rose to my feet as I looked around. The ghoul took one of the men's guns and Slim's was far too heavy for me to carry. I stumbled my way to the grave to look down inside. Honcho wasn't moving, and if I crawled down in there to get his gun there was no way I was getting out again. I sighed. I thought back to the ghoul. He was my only chance, but he didn't want my help.

I sighed again as I looked down at the chicken before untying her and setting her free. "At least one of us can be free," I said smiling to her before she ran off.

I stood there in the dark weighing my options when my eyes fell to the tracks in the mud. Maybe if I stick close to him, I'll be okay? At least until we reach a town. I would stay out of his way. Ideally, he wouldn't even know I was there.

"You are insane," I said to myself before I started following the tracks in front of me, grabbing Slim's bag on my way past him.

After about a day I was exhausted. I had no idea if I was going in the right direction anymore, I was no tracker and I lost his prints a long time ago. I stopped and bent over, pressing my palms to my knees while trying to catch my breath when I heard a gun cock behind me.

"Now why would you be following me?" The ghoul said behind me. "You must be a special kind of stupid."

I couldn't help the exhausted laugh that bubbled in my throat as I slowly stood up. "I must be. If you killed me right now, it wouldn't make a difference. I'll die on my own anyway." I said still facing away from him, feeling defeated.

There was a long moment of silence before I finally looked behind me. There was no hint of emotion on the ghoul's face.

"Let me follow you until we reach a settlement. I'll stay out of your way. I won't ask you for anything. Please." I begged.

At this, he looked down at my still bound wrists and then back up at my sad face. He sighed as he holstered his gun. "Come here then girl," he said, waving me over.

I tripped over my feet hurrying over to the man, raising my wrists as he took out his knife and cut me free. "Thank you, sir."

At this, it was his turn to laugh. "Sir? Well I'll be damned you are probably the only person left on this godforsaken planet with some manners."

I smiled up at him, I thought maybe he wasn't so scary after all.

"You will be completely silent. No complaining. If you annoy me, I will turn that pretty ass into jerky. Got it?" He said with a serious look on his face.

"Right. I can do that." I whispered looking down at my feet, feeling stupid.

We walked until it was far too dark to continue. I silently collected firewood as he put his bag down on the ground. As I made my way to our makeshift camp I stood in front of him with my arms full of sticks.

"What?" He barked out, obviously annoyed.

"Nothin'" I responded quickly before shuffling away from him embarrassed.

I tried my best to arrange the wood before pulling the flint out of the bag I took off of Slim. A small fire started and I smiled. I was cold from all the mud plastered to the front of me and was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire. I looked over at the ghoul to see him leaning up against a tree with his hat covering his face. I hummed happily as I thought about the arrangement we came up with, although I couldn't help but want to talk to him, the walk has been incredibly boring.

After a while of warming up by the fire, I got comfortable and drifted off to sleep.

I woke with a start. I looked around confused before I realized there was a boot in my side. I looked up at the ghoul hovering above me. "Get up darlin'." He said before walking away. "Time to move."

I quickly jumped up and grabbed my bag before running after him. This was the routine for days. I had honestly lost track of how long I had been following the ghoul. The silent marches from sun up to sun down were starting to get to me. I felt like I was going crazy.

"If my memory serves me well. I can be rid of you by tomorrow morning." He said with a sour tone.

"Okay," I responded quickly. I wanted to say as little as possible so he doesn't make true to his threat.

He looked back at me for a second as he continued to walk. "How did you get yourself into this mess anyway?"

I hesitated to answer, remembering he told me to stay silent. I looked up at him to see him scoff and turn away again.

"I ran away from home. Was on my own for a while before I ran into those idiots. They found me while I was sleeping, I had no chance to escape until you killed them."

"Ran away from home?" He repeated back at me. "That was stupid."

"Well, I'd rather be eaten by a ghoul than continue to be beaten by my father," I responded curtly.

He laughed at this. "Getting feisty aren't we darlin'?"

"Sorry," I responded. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have." He said with a tone that I couldn't quite figure out.

We walked in silence for what felt like forever, I tried to keep track of time by looking up at the sun but it was a cloudy, cold day. I couldn't help but start to shiver. My feet started to ache terribly, I wanted to ask for a break but I bit my tongue. No complaining had been one of his rules. I didn't want to push my luck with him.

"Stop." He said abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Wha-" I asked confused.

"Quiet." He interrupted as his hand slowly wrapped around his gun and turned towards me.

Before I had a chance to react the barrel of his gun was next to my face and he shot a round off.

I cried out as my ears rang painfully and I fell to the ground in shock. He said something to me, but I couldn't hear a thing. I held my head as I watched him walk behind me towards a man, dead on the ground. He rummaged through the dead man's pockets, pulling out a couple of caps before walking back towards me.

"A fiend." I thought to myself.

Instead of saying anything he offered me his gloved hand. I hesitantly took it and let him pull me back to my feet. He mumbled something but I couldn't hear it. Not long after this, we made camp again.

The next day, I slowed down a lot, but we were very close to town. I was beyond exhausted and barely had any will to keep going. The distance was growing between us before he finally stopped and whipped around, visibly annoyed.

"Walk faster. Remember what I said about annoying me darlin'." He barked at me.

I stared at him quietly before saying. "Why not just leave me behind, then?"

"Don't tempt me." He grumbled as he roughly grabbed my arm and started dragging me along.

A few minutes later we reached a small settlement. We got a couple of strange looks as he continued to drag me by my arm before finally letting go as soon as he set eyes on a "doctors" office. I just stood there. Unsure what to do now. I was in town, albeit a small one. There were only three buildings and a couple of food stalls. I could do whatever I wanted. I couldn't follow him anymore, that was for certain. I heard a commotion from inside the office, but it wasn't my problem anymore. I slowly wandered away eyeing up the food stands. Dog meat wasn't appetizing, but I hadn't had real food in days. I rummaged around Slim's pack before I found enough caps to buy myself a meal.

I hummed happily as I finished my food, I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" A man slurred behind me. "How much for your time?"

"I am not a prostitute." I scoffed as I turned around to face him.

"Free then?" He smiled menacingly as he grabbed ahold of me. His grip was so tight that I could feel my arm bruising.

Without thinking I drove the empty skewer in my hand into the man's eye and ran. I heard yelling behind me, but I kept running mindlessly. Before I realized what I was doing, I ran right into the arms of the ghoul as he was exiting the doctor's office.

"What in the hell?" He exclaimed, shocked by my actions before he looked up to see the man following me with blood running down his face.

"That bitch belongs to you? She must be some kind of freak to be with a ghoul." He growled angrily.

I buried my face into the ghoul's chest, afraid to look at his face. I desperately hoped he would take mercy on me once again.

"Well, darlin' you do have some bite to ya." The ghoul laughed while eyeing up the man standing in front of him.

"Give me the girl and get gone." The man spit out.

"Well, that just won't do." The ghoul responded while smirking, obviously amused. "Get behind me darlin'," he whispered quietly as he stared down the thug.

I quickly did as I was told before I heard some more shots ring off, before I knew it, the whole town turned into a shoot-off. I dropped to the ground and crawled into the doctor's office hiding behind the counter next to a very dead doctor.

"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself looking over at him, wondering what had transpired between him and the ghoul.

I stayed there until I heard a familiar voice yell out. "Anyone else wanna try me? That was fun, but I am itching for a REAL challenge." Only to get silence in return.

I peeked my head around the counter before finally getting up to my feet and shuffling to the doorway. Before I could stick my head out, the ghoul appeared in front of me.

"Thank you," I said smiling shyly up at him.

He stared down at me for a moment before saying, "Come on then. I need to get going if I am going to catch that bounty and Filly ain't far."

"I am coming with you?" I questioned, trying to hide the relief on my face.

"Well, you obviously can't be trusted on your own. Can ya darlin'?" He responded slyly.

"Oh thank you so much. You won't regret this!" I said to him as I grabbed ahold of his sleeve.

He stared down at my fist before looking back up into my eyes. I could see the hesitation on his face. Little did I know, this was the most human contact he had had in a long time, and it stirred something deep within him.

An odd friendship had formed between us, and neither of us knew how to feel about it.

tag list: @msrawog

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #fallout #fallout tv series #the ghoul x reader

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