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#if you see me posting top gun no you don't
rafesfavgirl · 2 days
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two graves, one gun — r. cameron
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sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')
❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞
pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl
the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.
8:30 p.m.
your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.
pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.
straight to voicemail. fuck.
you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.
you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.
"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.
you: where are you???
when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.
you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.
"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.
"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"
"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.
"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."
he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."
"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"
barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"
"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"
you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.
"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"
"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.
"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."
thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."
"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"
you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"
"rafe-"
"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"
"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"
"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"
"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"
he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.
"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."
the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.
"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.
you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."
"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"
"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"
"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"
you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."
rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.
"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."
"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."
"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.
"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."
not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"
"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."
letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"
"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.
"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."
"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.
"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."
the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.
"what?"
"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."
tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."
"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.
"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.
"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."
"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"
"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."
you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”
rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.
you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.
"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."
his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.
part 2 coming soon!!
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl
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mothdruid · 13 hours
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Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.
My Fandom Experience.
The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.
Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.
After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).
The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.
Fandom Etiquette.
If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.
Don't send hate anons to people
Block/unfollow people you don't like
If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it
Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided
Use AO3 filters
Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like
Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"
There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street
Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that
If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it
YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)
The Doxing Situation.
For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.
I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.
Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.
The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.
My Thoughts.
Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).
I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.
This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.
If you've read all of this, thank you.
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sluttyhenley · 5 months
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#ObsessedWithThatGuy
TOP GUN (1986) dir. Tony Scott
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anotherpapercut · 9 months
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also you should be embarrassed if you've never even bothered to look at your local librarys website let alone use one
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allylikethecat · 9 months
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just wanted to say how much i appreciate the grace with which you address both your writing and its fans
truly blessed to have you in the fandom
Oh my gosh way to make me cry! This might just be one of the nicest messages I've ever received! Thank you so much, I'm so completely and absolutely blown away by the fact that there are even "fans" of my writing (I like to think that it's more like we're friends that haven't formally met yet), and am just so grateful for anyone who takes time out of their day, and out of the hundreds of thousands of fanworks out there decides to click on one of mine, and then some of y'all even like it enough to leave a comment or send me an ask on Tumblr? Absolutely incredible! I know I got a little down on myself earlier this week, and the amount of sheer kindness that I was met with was so amazing and made me really happy to have found a little niche community to be a part of.
Fandom is my happy place away from the stress and pressure of being an adult in the real world, and I'm just so happy, overjoyed really, to have found our little group that enjoys the same kind of content as myself and where we can build one another up. I really enjoy writing, and even if I wasn't sharing it on the internet, would continue to do so because it's something that brings me joy, but the fact that I can also share it with y'all? And then get nice messages like this? I'M the one that's blessed to have found you lovely people. Even if I enjoy writing / reading about angst and suffering, my ultimate goal is to bring joy to people and spread some kindness- there is so much negativity IRL, online and even in these fandom spaces. I might have lost my way a little bit with the self doubt, but negativity is not my vibe and I just want to keep the good ~feels~ going!
At the end of the day, we're all here to have a good time and while opinions and tastes may differ, we are all just looking to share in something we enjoy (fandom!) and I am so happy to be apart of it! So thank YOU for blessing ME by reading my fics and sending this ask- it really made me smile.
❤️Ally
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itwoodbeprefect · 2 years
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i was tagged by @redgoldblue. thank you!!
Rules: List 10 songs you really like rn, each by a different artist, and then tag 10 ppl to do the same.
i’m interpreting “really like rn” as “have actually listened to intentionally multiple times in the recent past”, not necessarily as “think are the pinnacle of music”. i’m saying this because a decent percentage of this list is just straight up the top gun soundtrack and i’m pretty sure someone is going to notice.
pink cadillac - bruce springsteen
how silly can you get - nick rivers/val kilmer
danger zone - kenny loggins
joshua - dolly parton
sense of humor - darren hayes
take my breath away - berlin
dirty work - steely dan
like the way i do - melissa etheridge
great balls of fire - jerry lee lewis
i’m probably not going to hit 10 but here are some names: @littlestarsailor @girlonastring @smileylover99 @dannosteve223 @eg515 @spaceradars
as always, feel free not to do this if you don’t feel like it!
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luveline · 4 months
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You are so talented I can’t even fathom it Jade! I seriously don’t know how you do it.
Idk if you’re taking requests rn for Spencer still bc I know you write him a lot but I love shy reader and post prison Spencer it’s so cute. I would love to see their relationship growing, maybe her realizing the feelings aren’t one sided by little things he says or does for her or how he reacts if she gets hurt.
No worries if not! Anything you write is a gift honestly. Happy New Year!
thank you sm angel, you're too kind<3 hny! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k
cw violence and injury
You'll be fine, Spencer had said, patting you on the shoulder. Just trust me. 
This is decidedly not fine. 
You crouch low behind a raspberry chaise turned blood red in the poor lighting. When you entered the building moments ago, it was light. But now the lights are out and you can't tell your friend from foe; footsteps to your left could be Spencer where he'd followed you in, or they could be the UnSub. 
I'm right behind you, he'd said with a borderline rogue smile. You think I'd let you get hurt? 
Breath warms your ear. “Boo.” 
The air gets stuck in your lungs as brutish arms grab you. Your gun points toward your own jaw and your pulse hammers so hard you freeze, a split second, the amygdala overwhelmed. Then the UnSub tries to grab your weapon, and everything you've been taught kicks in. You twist in his arms, throwing your head back out of the line of fire as multiple agents call to you to sound off, and kicking hard at the UnSub's legs, the subsequent soft spot between them. 
You fall hard onto the floor, screaming as a weight lands on top of you.
Spencer shouts your name. “Where are you?!”
A hard palm hits you in the throat. Light bounces off of the UnSub's face as a teammate aims their torch in your direction, but you're wheezing and aching, your throat on fire and too overwhelmed to think. The hand that hurt you leaps for your gun. You hold onto it for dear life, even as he forces it once, twice into the soft of your face, leaving rings of flame behind your eye. You pull it hard from his hands and fling it across the floor out of reach, squirming under his weight, needing to be away, away— 
You pull your knee up and kick wildly, a well timed blow hitting the UnSub in the face with a damp-sounding crunch. 
“I don't have eyes on her!” Emily shouts. 
“I do,” Spencer says. His torchlight floods your area as he shouts, “Stand down!” 
You don't squeal, but it's not a very professional sound as you crawl backwards out of the way. The ring of fire behind your eyes feels ever so slightly above it now. The room is half gone. You wipe your eye and look down at your hand, dark staining your palm in a heavy smear.
“Oh,” you mumble queasily. 
The power never comes back on, but you don't notice until after, when Spencer's dragged you outside to the front yard and lowered you to a soft patch of grass, an EMT beside him dressing your wound. “Did they get him?” you ask. 
Spencer's brow wrinkles with his frown. 
“Remember what we said?” The EMT asks. 
“No?” You wince and hiss as he pulls the wings of a butterfly stitch closed over your eyebrow. 
“You have a concussion. I'm trying to work out how bad it is.” 
You honestly still feel like you're in the dark room. You reach out for Spencer's hand instinctively, needing comfort, a tether to the ground, and he clasps your fingers tightly. “You're okay,” he says steadily. 
“You're smiling at me weird.” You glance over your shoulder at the cop cars and the flashing red-blue lights. “Did you get him?” 
“Emily got him. Just after he got you.” Spencer looks like he might stand from his crouch, but he brings your hand to his chin instead, leaning on it showfully. “It's my fault, I'm sorry. I told you I'd have your back and I didn't.” 
Your chest stirs with the memory of your panic. One moment you'd been underneath him, and aching, and now you're on the grass as the forensics bring in the floodlights, so bright it's like mini suns have come out on either side of the yard. You hang your head to hide from the light. The EMT tells you off. 
“Does your throat still hurt?” Spencer asks you, pulling on your hand gently. “Answer me.” 
“My head is swimming.” 
Your memories fuzz over. When you look up again the EMT is gone. Spencer sits on the grass now beside you unhurried, your hand still clamped between both of his. His thumb rubs at your knuckles and the smooth stretch of skin beside them, apparently content to wait with you. 
“She's okay?” Tara asks, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. 
“Not enough medical. They're gonna look at Agent Walker and circle back. She might have to be admitted.” 
Tara bends at the waist to look you in the eye. “You okay?” 
“I'm fine. Are you okay?” you ask. 
“I'm doing better than you. That's gonna be a terrific bruise.” She smiles at Spencer reassuringly. “Emily wants you. I can sit with her, she'll be in good hands.” 
“She'd be in great hands,” Spencer says simply, “but I don't care. I'm staying here. Please tell Emily she can come here if she needs to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere until they've finished looking at Y/N.” 
Tara grins. “Your funeral.” 
You're slowly starting to feel like yourself again, or more aware of yourself at the very least. Spencer's touch is melding from comforting to heart-rending, his nearness a heat. He looks stupidly good-looking considering what you've just been through, the FBI vest tight on his chest, his sweet brown curls falling into his eyes as he plays with your fingers. 
“I must look awful,” you realise suddenly, a stone's throw from tearful. 
Spencer doesn't glance up at first. “You look beautiful, but the bruise is…” He looks at you through dark lashes. “It's a tragedy.” 
“What?” 
His small smile fades. “How are you feeling? Are things clear, or would you say that I'm out of focus? You're having moderate to severe concussive symptoms.” He shakes his head. “And the bruise is mottling already.” 
“I'm sorry.” 
Spencer laughs softly. After a pensive moment, he brings your hand to his mouth. Maybe he kisses it, maybe he doesn't, but the touch brings a sacredness to his promise, “I won't let that happen again. You trusted me to keep you safe.” 
“I trusted you to tell me if I was ready, and I was. I remembered how to get out of it. I'm still here.” You fluster after you've spoken, feeling brash. 
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face. “You are. You did amazing.” He removes one hand from yours. A featherlight touch coasts down your cheek, brief and encouraging nonetheless. “It's going to be a really bad bruise.” 
“Oh, well,” you say tiredly. 
Spencer's turn to go quiet. He holds your hand on his thigh. “I could kiss it better?” he offers in a murmur. 
You laugh and steal your hand back, unable to take all his attention at once. “Funny, Spencer.” 
He gives you a warm smile. You can't tell if he's kidding or not about the kiss, but his devotion to you while you're hurting is real. You're not sure where that leaves you.
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astrophileous · 1 year
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A Well-Kept Secret
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.
Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption
Word Count: 5900-ish
Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.
The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.
After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.
And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.
As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.
"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."
"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"
"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."
"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.
"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."
"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.
"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."
Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.
"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"
"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.
"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.
"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."
"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"
"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.
"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."
"What do you mean?" Emily asked.
"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."
"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.
"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"
"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"
"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"
"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"
"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"
"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"
When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.
"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"
Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.
"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.
JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"
But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."
"In the waiting room by the pantry--"
Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.
"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.
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The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.
Almost.
At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.
Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.
Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.
At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.
But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.
"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.
"Sweetheart."
At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.
Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.
Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.
"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.
"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.
"Spencer, what are you... How..."
"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"
You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.
Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.
That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.
"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"
"Wait, what? You were shot?"
"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."
At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.
"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."
"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."
And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.
"Uh, Spence?"
The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.
Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.
"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.
The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."
After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.
He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.
"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"
Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.
"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."
"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."
"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."
The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.
"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"
"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."
"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."
Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.
"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.
Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"
"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."
"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"
"I followed Nick into his office."
Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.
"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."
You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.
"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."
Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.
"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."
Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.
"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.
Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."
"Good. That's good."
"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"
Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."
The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.
Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.
"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."
"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."
"What?"
"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."
Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.
"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."
"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."
A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.
Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.
Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.
And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.
Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."
"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"
"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."
It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.
He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.
"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."
Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"
"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."
Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.
A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.
"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."
Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.
Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.
"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.
"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"
You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.
Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.
By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.
None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.
As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.
"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.
Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.
The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.
"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."
Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.
But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.
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"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"
"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.
It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.
If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.
"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.
"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"
They all stared at each other in hesitation.
"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"
"I don't remember," JJ answered.
"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.
"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.
"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.
"Alright. Says here that her name is..."
JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.
"Yes?"
Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.
"You!" JJ exclaimed.
"Me?"
Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.
"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.
"That's me."
"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.
"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"
"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.
Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."
The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"
"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."
Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"
Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.
"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"
You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.
"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.
Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.
"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"
Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.
It's time.
"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."
"She's my wife."
You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.
In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.
"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.
"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.
"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.
"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"
And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.
"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.
Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.
"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.
At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"
"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.
It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.
But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.
"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."
Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.
But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.
"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.
"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.
"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.
"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."
Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"
"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."
"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.
Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."
"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."
"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.
That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.
"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."
"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.
"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"
"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."
Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.
"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.
"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."
"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."
"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."
"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.
The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.
"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.
"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."
Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.
Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.
The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.
"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"
"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.
"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."
"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."
"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"
"Will do," you promised.
You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.
"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"
"I think it went as well as it could."
"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"
Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."
"Really?"
"Really."
Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.
"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.
"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."
Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.
But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.
And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.
Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.
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nimpnawakproduction · 7 months
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The ultimate reference sheets for all of Vash's outfits in Trigun maximum (with commentaries)
IT IS DONE. I'M FREE. Now I can forget all about Trimax and draw Trigun stampede designs only hahaha (just kidding I have things for Trimax on the stove).
Trigun bookclub was an awesome initiative, I loved the manga with my all heart and wanted to honor Nightow's designs ;w; I also wanted to help my fellow artists with references for Vash's clothes because DEAR GOD it's difficult to understand how the hell he dresses himself in the morning. I have a lot of fun dressing and undressing him like a barbie doll. My hyperfixation is completely healthy.
I put a "read more" section to avoid spoilers :) !
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The July coat
The very first coat in Trigun chronology and the one he wores during the destruction of July ! There is not a lot of panels to take references but I tried to stay as close as possible to the manga. I don't know what number of prosthesis he had before but let name this one Prosthesis 1.
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Scars map
Next, nakey Vash ! There's A LOT of changes between one panel to another. Scars changes places and forms panel to panel and the design evolved from the first chapters of Trigun, the time we see him naked as Eriks and his undressed state while he was a prisoner on the Ark. I drew the scars that appeared more than once or were in clean view in a panel (but really you can do like Nightow and draw as many scars as you want without thinking about consistency, this boy has been in a meat grinder)
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After July underclothes
Or the jumpsuit that gave me grey hair. His suit does not make ANY sense, I don't know how the hell he dresses himself in the morning with this. My solution is that it's very long gloves and chaps strapped to a belt. The position and shapes of the belts changes IN EVERY PANEL. Same for his knee guards, sometimes they're here, sometime they cover his shins, sometimes they are tiny..... I gave up in the end and draw them as we see them in the very last panel he wears this suit. But damn he looks good in it.
Also in all of the 13 volumes, there is not a single panel with a clear view of his holster (I checked...) so here is my interpretation.
This is prosthesis n°2, the design is a little different from the first one so I guess Prosthesis 1 got destroyed (this happens a lot).
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After July coat
The very first Trigun coat he wears in the manga ! Very simple, very basic, it gives him impossibly wide shoulders but Vash deserves it. The first one is worn Post July until Vash's confrontation against Brilliant Dynamite Neon. The second one is the state of his coat after the sandsteamer incident. He loses his prothesis after his fight against Monev the gale. He meets Wolfwood with only one arm and stays that way while he fights Knives for the first time.
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Eriks
I took liberties with colors because there's no colored panels with Vash as Eriks. Yes I drew him without suspenders because he has them for like 5 panels and then Nightow drew him without them for the rest of Eriks arc so I made choices ;w;
I love the fact that Vash choose to wear tight jeans even in his casual outfits, this boy will not let his skin breath. This is now Prosthesis 3 ! It's way less advanced than the ones he wore in the rest of the manga, the other ones seem to replicate skin.
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After his years as Eriks
And now the first Maximum coat, he wears it until the famous Yuri hospital arc! Finally an undersuit that makes sense, I love it, too bad Nightow-san decided that I had to suffer and changed it again to add BELTS EVERYWHERE. We only see his legs in this part of the manga so I gave him the same top because I can.
The tubes he has on his waist are filled with bullets, he can connect them to his prosthesis to have a mini machine gun.
We are now at Prosthesis 4 !
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Hospitalization on the Home ship
The famous Yuri hospital phase! Vash definitely shared his wardrobe with Wolfwood, you can't tell me otherwise.
The first outfit still shows Prothesis 4 but he keeps it for like 5 minutes and lost it again against Nine-lives. I don't really know if the prothesis comes with the integrated glove or if there's synthetic skin under it but why would he keep the glove on if it's not intergrated?
The second pictures is the different outfits he wears during his convalescence. I took liberties with the colors, I drew this in like 10 minutes, everything seems easy when you don't have to draw BELTS. We are now on Prothesis 5 ! Nightow drew it as a regular arm so I guess Vash wears gloves on top of it??????
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Back on the road in pursuit of Knives
He wears this one after his stay at Home, throughout the Dragon's nest ark and until his 2nd fight against Knives.
I liked the design of his jumpsuit until I looked closer at the panels and saw that the design change ON EVERY ONE OF THEM. Knee guard on only one knee? No kneeguards? Two??? WHO KNOWS ??? I tried to make it work but really go wild with this one, even the author does not know how his pant looks.
Still prosthesis 5, BUT UNTIL WHEN?
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Prisoner on the Ark
THEY MASSACRED MY BOY. Did they even feed him at least in 7 months? Those pictures are the definition of the drenched kitty cat left under the rain. Give this man a blanket and a therapist.
Bye bye Prothesis 5 ! And see what I mean when I say that his outfit does not make sense????? It comes out in parts????
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After his imprisonment on the Ark
The last suit in the manga! He keeps this coat until the end of the story. From this point, only his hair changes (or the color of his coat).
I adore the little angel wing symbol on his left arm, such a cute addition. Too bad it appears in one of the most traumatic event of his life.
Speaking of his jumpsuit...The return of belts.... But at least this outfit stays relatively coherent except for his kneeguards who appear and disappear panel from panel but most of the time he doesn't have any, so no kneeguard it is. Prosthesis 6 hello !
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Final battle and end of the story
It hurted to drew those outfits ;w; And working on the design of his coat when he fights Legato made me realize where Orange studio took inspiration to chose the colors for Vash's coat in the final episode of Stampede ! Great job ! I tried to color the same effects as one of the illustrations showing dark Vash but I'm not really good with colors..... He actually radiates energy but with some purple undertones, I took some liberties because those are my drawings I do what I want.
I'm not sure at 100% that he has a tuft of blond hair left when his outfit turns black but his hair is all black at the end of the fight. His prosthesis is destroyed at the end of the fight. He got another one in the final chapter. So 7 prosthesis throughout the story!
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sluttyhenley · 7 months
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I set him loose on purpose
insp
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yanderemommabean · 9 days
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Hey beans! Bit of an update-
This post will include mentions of abuse so, please, don't read if that will harm you in any way!
Sorry for the lack of posts lately! With how weird my school is with testing and clinicals, I've had hardly any real time to feel like I could sleep AND create. On top of that, I am still in the unfortunate position of living with my abuser, along with the rest of my family who seem to be going downhill.
While I'm hoping I can get a job to save up to move out of this state, that's going to take time, and its time I fear I don't have some nights as just the other night while bringing home groceries, I was met with my step dads gun directly in my face, and him being mad I was "Coming home late at ten at night" when it was, in fact, only 9:15 and I made myself known as I walked up the stairs.
My grandma is also a big issue, she's draining as usual but its taking more of a toll on me by the day. I no longer get food stamps either which is a reason she wants to start in on me every day I walk out of my room. The verbal abuse is one thing but she's threatening again and if I stand up for myself I'm seen as the bad guy.
My mom who used to be a person I thought I could turn to is now down a rabbit hole about "Woke" culture and now sees anyone in the LGBTQ community as brainwashers, yet when I remind her I am bisexual, she seems to backtrack a bit and say "Well no, not you, you're a good one"
She's also back into worshipping the Christian God, which I have absolutely no issue with, but she's telling me that I cant have my tarot cards or my own craft in my room like I'm some 15 year old who doesn't understand religions, and not 24 and choosing my own way in life. She keeps insisting that I pray, that I thank God, that I'm a sinner, anything to make her feel like she's scaring me into "Changing". I keep telling her she's driving a wedge between us, but it seems to be for nothing.
Every day I feel like my support net is crumbling, and I feel like this trip to save up is going to be fruitless as I don't have my own car, I have to find a way to get the doctors I need if I even get to the state I'm moving to, and so on and so on.
Any who, I'm going through a lot and can't seem to catch a break but I love you beans! I hope you're all doing good and having a wonderful day!
-Mommabean
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chosoisamalewife · 23 days
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Toji x male!reader
A/N : I can't find the ask for this but here it is
A/N Ik I am not posting in order but I already had this done
A/N MY DILF 😫
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
Warning : does contain smut ,somnophillia, temperature play, dumbification, marking, breeding kink, dacryphillia , praise kink , degrading, pain , mentions gun kink ..... I think that's it
Upon contrary belief this man is LOYAL
When he is in a relationship, he is in a relationship. He will NOT cheat
He is more priavate however once yall are alone he will worship the groud you walk on
When yall are in public he will either stand behind you in a protective manner or standing next to you with his hand resting on your back
He isn't picky with dates, he is honestly down with whatever you would like to do
His favorite pass time with you is laying on his back while you are laying directly on top of him just listening to you talk about whatever or watching something you enjoy. Would continuously caress your back gently (sometimes his hands will go lower) His goal of doing this is making you fall asleep on him and if you do he can’t help put to stare at how peaceful you look. There has been a few times where he falls asleep with you.
There was one time he fell asleep for you and you just laid on him tracing his features
Another one of his favorite things to do with you is cooking with you
LOVES TAKING SHOWERS AND BATHS WITH YOU
They don't even always lead to sexual acts, he just genuinely loves spending time with you and loves the feeling of you washing him. He will return the favor ofc
Now in baths (you have a big enough bathtub for him) he loves for you to lay on his chest as he plays with your hands. Sometimes he will whisper sweet nothings in your ear, other time yall just sit in each other's company
He would like a man who is intimidating but I feel like he would truly like a man who is totally different from him
Your soft and friendly personality adding a great contrast to his, and oh he can’t help but to soften around you and fawn over you
If you know how to do makeup, he would let you put it on him ONCE and that’s it’s so you better savor it. However that means he gets to do your makeup in return
WOULD KILL FOR YOU FREE OF CHARGE
Now if you are a killer like him then yall are the baddest couple to walk the earth. We love a power couple
NSFW
TOP!
Remember when I say he would worship you
Yeah bc he has a huge praise kink. “There you go baby, you take me so well”
Oooooo he loves to fuck you infront of a mirror so you can see what he does to you. His hand would stay on your face making sure you watch “Don’t look away baby.” “Look how pretty you look taking my cock” "Watch yourself cum"
SIZE KINK he a big man in multiple ways
LIKE IM TALKING AT LEAST 8 INCHES SOFT
WILL MARK YOU UP WITH DARK HICKIES, covering up with foundation won't help, might as well just wear a turtle neck.
Sex with him can go one of two way, good old love making with him absolutely worshiping you and praising you. OR him fucking you dumb
When he is rough, HE IS ROUGH.
He will mix slight praise with heavy degradation. He would have a hand on your throat pounding into you roughly. "You are such a fucking slut that your ass can't help but taking me so well." "MY dumb slut always so good for me"
His goal is fuck you till you can't take it anymore. Till you are dumb, the only time he likes to see you cry is when he is fucking you
Is into somnophillia but y’all would come up with a sign to show. For example if he walks into your room and you are laying there naked with a plug in it means it’s okay for him to have his way with you
And he will take his time too, he loves to watch you stir in your sleep and whimper in your sleep while he is kissing down your body and softly playing with your cock. He will lick the rim of your plug that sits inside of you, watching as you gasp softly and stir. Once you start stirring to much he will stop and let you fall back deep into slumber until waking you when he is fully ready to take you
Once you start to wake up he will always reassure you that it is him
Another contrary belief he will not have a gun kink, he would keep that shit separated from you so it will not be involved in y’all’s sex life
Can he be rough and mean? Yes but he doesn’t want to see that thing near you let alone pointed at you no matter if it isn’t loaded. (MIGHT be different if you are a killer like him)
However he is into pain and temperature play, especially wax play
You are his canvas while the wax is his paint. Loves to watch you hiss and arch as the hot wax drips onto your skin. You hisses quickly becoming whimpers
He didn't think your body can look more perfect until he saw your body covered in dark love bites, dried colorful wax and a mix of both of yall's cum dried.
BREEDING KINK, even if he can't get you pregnant he will still taking about filling you up with his cum and "breeding" you
Pretty basic at after care, he will check to see if you are okay (especially after a rough time) and get you a rag and wipe both of yall clean. But he will get or do anything you request without hesitation.
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
LET ME GIVE YOU ANOTHER KID TOJI
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inmyloveworld · 2 months
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i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~1.3k
synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.
warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking
a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!
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It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.
But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.
So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.
And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.
He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.
Was I overthinking?
Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"
Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.
I wasn't.
Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.
Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.
He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."
All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.
"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?
Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."
The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.
Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.
He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.
Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.
You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.
Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.
Don't think, just do.
"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.
Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"
"Sometimes."
"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.
"Thank you."
🏷️: @avengersfan25
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partycatty · 2 months
Note
so i made a post about revenant johnny and i’m totally aware you saw it so what about a smut fic with revenant johnny??
i’m not entirely sure how we’d get to that part and i’d like to think we aren’t a revenant. im not entirely sure what the plot would be but i really just need to get my back blown out by revenant johnny
love ya 💙💙
EAYRBAUHRJAJFLAMTLMSMF
revenant!older!johnny cage > join me
revenant johnny meets you after his turning. the carnal desire never vanished.
warnings: kinda angsty, not explicitly consented to, you get SLAMMED TO POUND TOWN AND BACK. NETHERREALM AND BACK. OUTWORLD AND B— oh also lore adjustment to mk9 and mk11 :3
[ masterlist ]
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you didn't think recent events could get any weirder, truly. just five years prior you lost the love of your life to a corrupted sindel, and with the knowledge that his cursed corpse sauntered beside a sorcerer such as quan chi, you honestly felt like coming face to face with a younger version of yourself was the most normal thing to occur. your job as a leader of the special forces was to capture and eliminate all threats to earthrealm, including but not limited to your former husband.
now under the command of a previous timeline's raiden among others, you had built enough of an army to counterattack what you lovingly called the zombified versions of your once-friends, liu kang and kitana. kronika was a force beyond your understanding but you knew that losing all you'd come to build would be a loss greater than... well, no. it was everything you'd lose.
at the bow of kharon's ship, you stood with a loaded rifle alongside a band of people you'd grown to admire; jax, jacqui, cassie, raiden, liu kang, kitana, kung lao, fujin, nightwolf, and of course a younger version of johnny. he nudges your side, aiming his own rifle at the sky with a hand on his hip.
"i hope we don't die out there, i'd love to tap that someday," he coos into your direction, perhaps louder than intended and earning horrified looks from everyone - including your fatherless daughter. you stomp on johnny's foot. perhaps you would have fallen for his charms in the past, but dear god was he more punchable than ever in that moment. even still, you miss his quips and jabs. what you wouldn't give to see the color return to his cracked, hellish skin.
"it is an honor to fight alongside most of you," you call out, facing forward as your subtle dig at younger johnny makes him frown. "raiden says it better. may the elder gods protect us."
it's not long before the large boat scrapes against the shore of the island, and your entire army charges into battle. guns, swords, and fangs spill so much blood, you could smell more iron than when you were riding down the crimson sea. your thoughts are cut short when a path opens, and you shoot a glance to your comrades.
"i see an opening!" you shout, pointing. "i'm going in!" a chorus of encouragements and cheers fill your ears atop the war cries, and the one that stands out most is cassie. your daughter's voice raises, slipping into grief mid-battle.
"if you find dad," she cries, praying to the gods that she won't lose both parents. "tell him i love him!" the knowledge that this battle will end in only one of you making it out alive terrifies her beyond belief but she does all she can to keep a strong face and salute you as you disappear in the crowd. cassie knows that a revenant version of johnny wouldn't fully understand, wouldn't fully accept her love, but she couldn't die or have him die without expressing it one last time.
you weave, shoot and slash through the crowd and end up in a castle-like structure. perhaps if you were to rise to the top you could use the position as surveillance or sniping. you could possibly even find a weak point. the building is just distant enough for the war to hardly reach the inside. your breathing and the sound of boots hitting stone are all you could focus on as you turn a corner.
blood rushes to your ears and you could feel your vision become glassy at the sight of the figure at the end of the hallway. even after all this time, you knew that shape. johnny stood in the dead center of the long hall, arms crossed and waiting like he predicted your arrival. maybe he did.
"no, nonono," you pant, leaning against the wall as your brows furrow. "not you. not now." the grief you thought you conquered washes over you.
"well i'll be damned," johnny smirks, pulling his sunglasses from his face and tucking them into his shirt. "long time no see, sugar." he takes long strides to you and your legs feel embarrassingly weak when you slide to the ground, gun clattering to the stone surface alongside you.
"anyone but you—" you're muttering under your breath, trying to ground your spiraling thoughts. "please."
johnny's in front of you now, kneeling down to meet your gaze. his skin is paled and crackling with a hellish glow, and his eyes are a heinous reddish shade. the outfit he wore was similar in style to his usual, but darker in palette and slightly edgier. in any other context, it was a good look.
"you look just as good as the day i left you," he grins, dismissing your grief and turmoil for flirtation. you want to fight back so bad, to shove him away and put an end to this but dammit it was the first time you'd heard that voice, that damn voice.
"why did you leave me? cassie?" you're involuntarily sobbing now, full of conflict. "why are you doing this?"
"you're the one causing this entire problem," johnny's defensive, jabbing a finger to your chest. "kronika's new era can save us. neither of us join the military. can you imagine it? white picket fence, two dogs and a daughter, home cooked meals every night and none of this bullshit—!" johnny's arm extends out to a nearby window, giving you both a view of the demon-human-demigod war on time. "—baby. join me. we could have everything we've ever dreamed of." his tone isn't as desperate and loving as it should be. it sounded... pushy. frustrated that you're disobeying what he wants.
"no," you choke out, tears flowing freely now. "you're being played a fool, johnny." he doesn't like your answer, and instead wraps a large hand around your small neck. he slides you back up the wall and spins you, your front now pressed up against a wall.
"you know what i'd miss more than your stubbornness?" he growls into your ear. his hand pressing hold on the back of your head is brewing a headache that quickly fizzles away when his other hand tugs your hips toward his front. you swallow, afraid to reply. "this sweet ass."
his cold, dead hand plays with the fat of your ass which spills a growl from his lips. instinctively rutting into you makes you spill an involuntary whimper out, craving his touch after so long.
"always a pain in my ass," johnny groans, slapping a cheek and watching it bounce. "i've gone years without it, i was practically losing my damn mind."
"johnny—" you barely breathe out. you're not entirely sure what you were going to say anyway. the warmth of his hardness shocks you as it slides up and down your clothed ass.
"mm?" he hums, transfixed on the way your behind fits his cock nicely. it was clear he wasn't fully listening and instead relishing in your presence once again.
as if he could read your thoughts, johnny chuckles to himself and kicks the rifle away, only stopping his humping momentarily to remove your defenses. your legs slightly part to try and catch the gun with your foot, accidentally giving him more access to your embarrassingly needy cunt.
"yeah, fuckin' speechless," he growls, hissing at the sight of your soaked bottoms. "bet you missed my cock, yeah?"
you could hardly even whimper from the onslaught of emotion. johnny's hand snakes to the front of your neck, forcibly arching your back as he pulls to lean into your ear.
"join me," he demands coldly.
"no."
johnny's hand dips under your waistband.
"join me," he demands again, tone getting progressively more animalistic as he tugs downward.
"no."
your pants are practically torn off as he grabs a fistful and tugs them to your knees with his mind-numbing strength. you weren't sure if he ripped your panties or tugged them off too. you hear something unbuckle on his end, and his hot, wet tip tickles your entrance.
"last chance." even though his hand returned to shove you into the stone wall, you could hear his cocky grin.
"go fuck yourself," you spit, realizing your grave choice of wording.
"i'll do you one better." he slams his entire cock inside of you, and it immediately settles into your walls like it was made to bury itself there for all of eternity. even still, going without dick that good leaves your pussy burning and on the verge of crying for other reasons.
he bottoms out quick, leaning back to admire how nicely he settles inside of you.
"well fuck, look at that," he says with genuine amusement in his tone. "you look so pretty stretched out on me like this, it's a sight for sore eyes."
your fingers claw at the stone, eyes rolling back as you take his full length without verbal complaint. as you pathetically attempt to protest, all you can sputter out are disconnected syllables. johnny's thrusts start off slow but he snaps into you as he reaches the base inches.
"all this whining but you're fuckin' soaked," he laughs, snapping into you harshly to hear you cry out. "you're a horrible liar, you know. you wanna join me, i can f — haah —" his own cocky nonsense is cut short when you clench around him. he lurches forward in shock, moving both hands to your hips to deepen his grip. "i can feel how tight you are for me."
in little to no time, johnny's cock is pounding into you at a breakneck pace, a horrid slapping sound echoing off of the castle walls as they mix with your obscene moans and his deep grunts. you're sure he's piling more unholy words into you but they feel so far away when he's plowing into you like a dying man — well.
his cracked, grey fingers grope you shamelessly, pinching your nipple through your uniform or rubbing rapid circles into your clit. the pleasure is too much too quickly and you feel a warmth pooling in your stomach as your juices coat his shaft.
a gasp escapes your lips with each thrust, your husband quite literally knocking the wind out of you each time he slams into you.
"i missed you," he purrs out, and just like that all hesitation and guilt you had flew away as his words made you cum hard. a glimpse of his humanity poured through at your orgasm, and while it was flattering, you had bigger problems to worry about then, including just how hard you came.
each wave of pleasure was met with an extra thrust for good measure, a pulse shooting to your clit that makes your knees buckle. what you quickly realize however is that your zombie husband isn't done with your body quite yet.
"oh, no no no," he tuts, thrusts getting wilder and filling you to the point of tears. "you're done when i'm done. this is what you get."
your sensitive walls continued to shamefully take every inch he forced into you, and you could writhe and twitch as a drop of drool spills from your lip. this revenant was fucking you stupid, using your body for all it was worth in the moment. you hated yourself for falling for his undead charm all over again. your vision was going black and starry before another orgasm rode up on you again, johnny's back shots doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation that was racking your body. it's not long before he's whining too, which turns into his signature whimpering when he fucks into you harshly, spewing his cum inside of you like he owns you. you cum with him this time, flooding with your own juice mixed with his cum that now coated your walls nicely.
tears still burned in your eyes, and so did your pussy from the unexpected stretch. johnny panted above you, face turned up at the ceiling as he tries to compose himself.
"holy..." he pants, wiping the sweat from his face with his arm. he wraps an arm around you and slaps at your bare pussy, making you yelp and jump back against his dick that's still buried inside. you swallow thickly and nod, too hazy to make sense of it all.
"i..." what the hell were you going to say? what is there to say after all of this? you're dumbfounded, fucked silly but torn apart by grief. as you crane your neck to look at johnny, you find that he's already looking at you with a coy expression. like he robbed you of something. tore your very being apart piece by piece and was proud.
"hope you're not mad at me for the whole dying thing, by the way."
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nolita-fairytale · 11 months
Text
Carmy as Your Baby Daddy | Social Media AU & Headcanon Series | part one
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masterlist | part two now that i've finished my top gun: maverick series, it's me i'm back and gearing up for season two. after a bout of food poisoning, i finally cracked and am writing this pregnancy headcanon that i said i wouldn't bc my ovaries would explode (looking at you @allthefandomstogether). anyways, a huge thank you to @carmensberzattos who pinged many an ideas back and forth about carmy as your baby daddy and screamed into the abyss about this on a friday night. i'm writing this with my main character from the make your heart surrender-verse, but can absolutely read as a standalone piece. posting now because i'm so damn excited but i may go back and add some more things later.
oh and this a headcanon series now so. that part.
carmy as your baby daddy:
sometime after the wedding, you and carmy decide that you're ready to start a family. you're not trying but you're not not trying, meaning you've gone off of birth control but you're not carefully monitoring your ovulation cycle either. you both figure that it'll happen when it happens and if it doesn't, there are many other ways to make a family.
carmy never really thought about having kids until the two of you got together. after adopting your kitty together, carmy got to see a your more nurturing side and taking care of something together as a team made him think about how much he wants a family with you. after sugar has her baby it really ups the ante. seeing carmy become an uncle is what starts the conversation about seriously starting a family, and every time carmy sees you holding the baby, it's 'when our kids this, and when our kids that' for days after.
you swear it's food poisoning. after a somewhat questionable late night meal, you spend half the night vomiting while carmy works a later night at the restaurant. you text him to bring ginger ale and tums home. of course he comes through because are you kidding this man is a caretaker?!
you insist that you're fine and much better, even though you're absolutely exhausted. things are so busy at work for you (and have i mentioned the pregnancy fatigue) that you don't think much of it when a few nights later, you find yourself kneeling on the bathroom floor once again.
there are always little kids running around at the extended family gatherings and which led to your realization (when you first met everyone) that carmy is surprisingly good with kids.
it's not till a week or two later (after your little bout of 'food poisoning') that you're at cicero's place for a family birthday party that it hits you. one of carmy's cousins (not richie kind of cousin teehee) has just had a new baby with his wife. you've been catching up with ava, richie's daughter because you've become an auntie of sorts to her. you find some time to steal away for a some girl-time but when you return, carmy is holding his new niece/nephew in his arms.
the sight of him holding the baby not only takes your goddamn breath away as he stares long and hard your way, his blue eyes piercing right through your heart, but it's then that you realize that you're a few weeks late. it's like time stops as you look at him, seeing him coo at the baby with the softest look on his face. the realization hits you, clear as day.
"holy shit." is all you say, earning a few funny looks from the berzatto extended family and friends. "carm, can i borrow you for a second?" you and carmy find a quiet place to talk inside. "you okay, babe?" "carmy i think i'm-. what if i-. i'm late." "what do you-? like.. late late?" "now that i think about it, a few weeks late, honey." "yeah?" he asks you, totally in shock and eyes wide. "yeah."
the two of you make an excuse to leave the party as soon as possible, and hurry to the nearest drugstore to pick up a pregnancy test. you wait till you're home to take it. "do you want me to come in, sweetheart?" "no, carmy! i don't want you to watch me pee, you weirdo!" you answer, even though you know he's just excited.
the two of you are pacing back and forth, practically making dents in the floor with your footsteps for what feels like the longest two minutes of your lives. when your timer goes off, you're both simultaneously freaking out about the fact that you're lives are about to change forever, while also really, really hoping for a positive result. and as the fates would have it, the test is positive.
"holy shit. holy fucking shit. we're- you're-, we're gonna-!" carmy is ecstatic as searches for words. "we're having a baby, baby!" you squeal jumping into his arms." "god, i love you so much," he says, grinning at you as wrap your legs around his waist. "i love you too, carm. so, so much."
you literally get the biggest kick out of calling him your baby daddy: to friends and family, coworkers, random strangers, in restaurants, at the gas station. you'll take photos of him at the farmers market and post on your ig story referring to him as your baby daddy because you find it hilarious. carmy doesn't find it as funny (even though he secretly loves it) and he's cherry-tomato red when you tell the checkout clerk at the bodega across the street from your place that your baby daddy is going to pick up the tab.
everyone at the restaurant is so excited for you! even richie cries a little when you tell him the news. you hadn't really gotten close to richie until ava grew super attached to you, which opened up a whole new avenue and understanding for your friendship with richie.
ever since you found out you were pregnant, carmy always has bread and ginger ale on hand for your morning sickness. he started making you your favorite soft scrambled eggs with toast, but the chives have been way too strong of a flavor for a sensitive tummy. it's slowly become eggs & toast and then just... toast, which you promptly apologize for stripping away any kind of artistic freedom he may have previously had.
you get near compulsive cravings for certain foods, and carmy is always ready to throw on a jacket and run across the street when you get midnight cravings.
carmy hates seeing how tumultuous pregnancy has been during your first trimester. he's always ready with a hair tie or a glass of water for when you're done throwing up. okay hear me out: but carmy starting to wear hair ties because he wants to always have one ready for you. he'll even take off a morning with you or call your workplace if you need a sick day just so that he can take care of you. even if you don't need care, he just wants to spend time with you and be there for you while you go through it.
we already know that carmy is an acts of service king. he is the tenderest, most gentle partner and wants to be as helpful as possible. if you're sick, he wants to make you feel better. if the pregnancy hormones are raging against the machine, he's more than happy to let you be upset, or get you off by any means if the hormones go that way too. he'll sit on the bathroom floor with you and rub your back until you need to vomit again. he'll give you the best morning head of your life. he'll run a bath for you when you need one. he checks in every hour on the hour in your first trimester, which you appreciate, but eventually have to ask him to chill the fuck out.
speaking of physical changes, the pregnancy boobs are ELITE. carmy is always there to make you feel beautiful despite your rapidly changing body, esp when your clothes start fitting differently.
the first time your bump starts showing and you point it out to him, carmy cries. or maybe he notices it first and he's just like... weeping and you're like: babe r u ok? and then you realize that you're showing and carmy is kneeling and admiring your baby bump and now you're crying. sorry, but i don't make the rules it's just a fact that this is how it would go down.
carmy is so emotional about this because he realizes that he finally gets to build the family he didn't have and he gets to build it with you.
well this just hijacked my writing plans oops. part two will be more 'you & carmy pregnancy things' and part three will be birth & post-birth.
tagging my carmy taglist in the comments below!
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Chocolates and euphoria
pairing: cpt. John Price x reader (cod mw)
tags/tw: afab!reader, nsfw, food play, p in v, unprotected sex, desperate sex, slight cockwarming, 18+ so minors please DNI
a/n: a late valentines blurb inspired by this post
John Price MASTERLIST
Just imagine John Price not greeting you by the door when you come home from work, and he's returned from deployment while you were away. Instead, he answers your greeting by beckoning you further into your shared flat with an 'In here, love'. 
You drop your things to the floor, more concerned with seeing Price after weeks of him gone than the temporary shucked-off and slipped-out jacket you leave behind in the foyer. 
Your flat is not big, but his voice had been faint enough that you know he must be in the bedroom, probably unpacking his stuff, sorting what needs a wash -more or less everything- from the weapons that needed to be locked into the gun-safe. 
Imagine your shock when pushing the door open to not find him straightening from a bent-over position of his bag on the bed but sprawled in it with only a measly bit of the duvet, the one you changed yesterday just because you knew how much Price likes to come home and feel free from sand and dirt, over his crotch, legs partly intertwined but giving you a tantalising view of his bare thighs down to his shins, hands behind the pillow propping his head up. You stall, freezing in the entrance as you blink, perplexed at the sight you couldn't even imagine finding your Captain. Not even in your wildest dreams.
"Happy Valentine's, love."
His greeting falls on partly deaf ears. You hadn't given it much thought, even if it was hard not to notice the copious amount of red, pink and white hearts or love-shaped everything you'd passed the last few days on your way home from work. But with a heart-shaped box of chocolate square on top of Price's crotch, it clicks in your head that the 14th of February coincided with his return home.
You let out a short laugh because you seriously don't know how to react to what your eyes rove over again and again. 
"Not appreciatin' the welcome-home gift I've got for you?" 
Despite the slight shuffle as he props himself on his elbows and the box of chocolates sliding nearly too much to not tug the duvet down with it, your eyes ascend until they meet Price's. 
There's an evident mirth practically shining in them, crow's feet highlighted in the edge of his eyes as he attempts to fend off his smile. 
With the lack of any and all seriousness concerning the situation, you purse your lips, head ducking into a shake as you can't contain an amused chuckle, moving from your spot.
"Love it", you can barely get the words out. Your feigned straight face crackles as you walk closer, eyebrows scrunching together, chest convulsing from trying to not break into another laugh. "My very own hairy Cupid".
It's Price who breaks the facade with a timbre low chuckle and head craning back as you slow down when reaching the edge of the bed.
"I tried." He gives you a shrug, and you notice the now upward tug of his lips once he looks up at you.
"A very appreciated attempt", you giggle, settling on the side of the bed, leaning to the centre where Price rests. 
He meets you halfway, pulling you closer with one hand clutching the back of your neck, almost dragging you down as well, and you need to catch yourself against the mattress in your now twisted position. You both chuckle into the kiss as the chocolates rattle in their casing after your hasty movement and Price's shuffle to get closer to you.
"God, how did you think of this?" You glance down his body towards the most eye-catching object at the moment, smile ever-present like the silent laughter in your eyes when they return to meet him.
"Gaz showed me a not-so-subtitle photo he thought was funny". You closed your eyes, chuckling at the mental image of the situation.
"Should thank him the next time I see him". Price rolls his eyes when you look at him again.
"You and Kyle bother me as much off duty as them two sergeants do on". He scoffs fondly. 
You cock your head, bottom lip jutted out. "Don't be too hard on them".
"Easier to chew their ear off than your pretty face", he murmurs deeply with a considerable drop in his voice. "C'mere".
Rather than give in to his pull, fall deeper into the closeness he beckons you; you pull away with a giggle and crawl down the bed until you settle between his legs.
He cocks his head, both elbows now planted on the bed again as he stares down at you, eyeing how your kneeling form is hidden beneath your skirt, the fabric flowing out and filling the space he'd unconsciously given you between his legs.
"Not where I imagined you".
You place a hand on Price's abdomen when he goes to sit up, pursuing your lips with a feigned sad furrow between your brows. "Why? Where else would I be able to taste the chocolates you gave me, John?".
What's not hidden in the perfectly innocent face you pull and direct at him is the glint in your eyes and the way you rap your fingers against his stomach rather than pulling your hand back to your side. But Price decides to play into it. 
"Be my guest", he waves his hands towards the box, somehow still balancing enough to keep the small part of Price's covered front hidden. 
Oh, imagine the nearly audible gulp, that delicious heave of his chest you only managed to pull out when catching him off-guard, as your slightly cold hands settle high on his thighs as you bend down, keeping eye contact with those blues intently watching, as your lips slot around one of the chocolates, leaning away only when it's securely clutched between your teeth, only for you to raise a hand and with one finger push it into your mouth.
You hum in content, eyes fluttering as you wiggle a little with a smile, no doubt the taste of chocolate spurring your reaction. But Price's imagination is running rampant, the box of chocolates a plastic shield between where your mouth was and the very place all his blood now is flowing to. The taste he wants to fill your mouth is not that creamy delight that's excited you all in your teasing.
You raise your brows as you lick your lips, watching him. Price blinks out of his stupor when you cock your head, realising you're waiting on something.
"What?" His rough and hastily asked question makes you giggle.
"I asked if you want to taste one?" 
Price nearly misses your question again when you start stroking your hands up and down his upper thighs, fingers brushing over the place where his thigh joins with his hip. But he does notice your vixen-like offer, purred in that innocently-laced voice you like to dip into when you play with him. And, like always, he walks head-first into the allure of sirens. 
"Go on then".
You bite your lower lip in anticipation as you pluck one of the heart-shaped sweets and lean over his body to reach his lips. Price's hands find your waist, stabilising you as he cranes his neck, snagging the chocolates from your fingers, making sure to excessively lick the pad of your fingers in the process. An adorable scrunch of your nose is the reaction he searches for and is rewarded with. 
Price only smirks as he falls down against the pillow as he bites into the chocolate.
"So?" You remain hovering above him, both hands now resting beside his head.
"Good, but not as sweet as you". He squeezes your waist.
"God, you're such a flirt tonight". You chuckle with a roll of your eyes.
"Mhm?" He hums in return, the edge of his lip upturned when you look down at him again
"Mhm", you reply, tongue rolling over your lips before catching it between your teeth, offering a smile in return.
A low sound vibrates deep in his chest, his voice sending shivers down your spine. It's silent for a few seconds as you look at one another before gravitating closer. 
Your lips are soft compared to Price's slightly chapped ones, telling you he continues to vehemently avoid the chapstick you send along with him when he's deployed, but they're equally as sweet, the taste of chocolate fresh as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He groans appreciatively at your willingness, readily intertwining your tongue with his with a slight sigh.
Price wants you flush against him, feel you after weeks away from you, but when his hand travels to the curve of your back, arms about to wrap around you, you pull away, eyes fluttering open.
"They're different kinds?" You light up; this time, it's hard for Price to know if it's genuine curiosity as your attention falls to the box perched on his lap again. But when you hastily sit down on your haunches again, he can't help but chuckle, watching you pick up another chocolate with intrigue. 
Neither of you had anticipated the caramel suddenly pouring out of the half-bitten heart, making you jerk slightly forward. With wide eyes, our gaze falls to the light-brown liquid having dripped onto Price, your eyes flickering between the pooling of fluid in the dip of his hips.
You giggle, and with a quick flicker of your eyes to his and then down again, Price knows what's coming before you move, your intention shining like a beacon in your eyes as you stuff the last bit of chocolate into your mouth and swallow quickly. 
He feels the groan rumbling in his chest even before you lick a broad stripe along the skin not hidden by the box or covers. The press of your tongue so close to where he's throbbing for you makes his eyes flutter but never close fully, hips jumping, disturbing the box somehow still resting on his lap. Far longer than he'd anticipated originally.
"God, women", he groans. "That's 'nough of that", Price finally caves to your teasing, hard as a fucking rock and nearly breaking out in a sweat at the swings between lewd and sweet actions you've put him through the last few minutes. 
He moves the box of chocolates aside, gently enough for none to escape the box, and tugs you forward until you sprawl over his naked chest. You have the nerve to giggle, but it quickly turns to a gasp as he rolls you over, his weight pressing you into the bed.
The flimsy part of the duvet between his crotch and your lower stomach does nothing to hide his hard and heavy girth pressing into your still-clothed. But as he urges you on your front, nothing but your clothes limits his access as he kicks away the duvet altogether, grinding against your backside with heady rolls of his hips.
"Fuck, missed you, love", he would drawl so sickly hot but sweet at the same time into your ear, making you arch against him. Price would it as encouragement, undoing the sip along the small of your back before tugging your skirt form your body, throwing it aside with much less care than the box of chocolates. Your shirt soon met the same fate.
And when you lay in nothing but your undergarments, you would feel something being placed on your spine, but before managing to crane your neck to see what it is, Price's thumb would crush what you quickly realised is a piece of chocolate filled with caramel, smearing it along your back. Your mouth drops open, eyes flittering to meet his gaze rather than down your back. He's grinning, satisfied his payback worked.
Price would keep your gaze as he lowered himself until close enough to your back that you couldn't see him as much as feel his hot tongue collect the mess he made. You would gasp, head jerking forward, face pressing between the pillows and the mattress. Feeling him hum pleasantly at the taste of you combined with the treat coating his tongue would make the hair on your body stand at its end, your back arching like a wave to get as close to Price's tongue as possible. His chest swells from how reactive you're to him, nearly crooning when he grasps at the fleshy part of your hips, digging his fingers into your skin, eliciting a muffled mewl.
He would take your bra off while licking your skin clean of the treat he smeared across your body, rewarding you with a cheeky nip of his teeth as you wiggle out of the fabric he then discards somewhere. 
While Price would pepper kisses all over your back, shoulders and up to the nape of your neck, one hand would slide between your legs, past your panties and graze right over your weeping pussy. A small gasp leaves you as your hips move a fraction, your head now practically going lax at being surrounded by him. 
His fingers do wonders to your clit, and more choked sounds leave you as he plays with your body like he never had left and returned with new callouses on his palms rubbing sinfully against you.
The very patience Price is known for, and the cool-headedness everyone who meets him praises, would snap so quickly you could think all those comments were for a facade he kept up. But seeing you desperate, whimpering, whining, arching and grinding back against his hot cock pressed against your ass would do things to the most stoic man.
He wouldn't even bother taking off your panties. Your more than naked state enough for him to paw and grab at. They would merely be pushed aside, hoked somehow to the side by your thigh and ass as he guides the head of his cock over your heat. Low groans and bordering gruffs would press from his lungs while moans and staggering breaths leave you as he guides his cock over your heat to collect your wetness.
Price would groan in pleasure when he finally pushes all the way into you in one slow push, burying his cock so deep inside, the thick head of it kissing a spot that only he can reach. You always felt tighter, wetter the first time he fucked you with all the pent-up frustration and adrenaline yet to subside from his body after a tour.
His burly body would envelop yours as he fell down to his elbows, holding you close as the slow rock of his hips soon picked up speed, the sound of his hips smacking against your ass filling the room.
Your walls would throb, squeezing tightly around his girthy shaft as he pumps in and out of you, whining into the pillows you'd buried your head into before craning your neck to the side his hot breath fanned from.
The kiss would be uncoordinated, tongues intertwining and lips slipping before remaining open as you panted and moaned against each other. Everything tastes of chocolate and euphoric highs as a particularly lewd mewl escapes your mouth and vibrates against his. Price's beard would scrape against your chin and jaw, the scratchy feeling making you roll it onto your shoulder as it added to your overall pleasure, giving him access to your neck. He would shower the newly offered skin in kisses that wouldn't fade just because his lips left, giving some extra love to the sweet spot below your ear that made you clench so deliciously around him.
Your orgasm would crash over you a second later, body twitching, mouth remaining open, panting against the side of his face as he growled a 'there you fuckin' go, feels so good flutterin' 'round me' straight against the shell of your ear. 
Price doesn't let up, fucking faster and harder into your pussy while your brows would crease against his forehead as he tries to dip his head to taste you again. But he can't, his own open-mouthed groans met by nothing but overstimulated puffs of silence from you. 
And then his thrusts started to get sloppy, bucking every few times until he moaned against your mouth whilst spilling deep inside you, hips rocking and pushing against your ass as if to climb into you.
Price's body weight would press against your back, your arm worming out from beneath your body and around his neck to let him know he could take his time, you didn't mind his heft against you. He would worm his arms around your body, one circling your waist, the other your chest, huffing a sigh of bliss, pleased by your nails raking against the nape of his neck as you caught your breaths.
There was no doubt you'd have to change the sheets again later, either because of the mixed fluids you could feel trickle out of you or the chocolates that, without a doubt, had stained the white duvet.
Taglist: @starlitselkie @melancholyy-hill @redheadonfire20
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