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nereidprinc3ss · 6 days

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do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

part one | two | three | bonus chapter | four

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days.

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days.

It’s scary.

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space.

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up.

But you’re not quite there yet.

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy.

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting.

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice.

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting.

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either.

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause.

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally.

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick.

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach.

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment.

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all.

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat.

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself.

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position.

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him.

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass.

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that.

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step.

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy.

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you.

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea.

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence.

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there.

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do.

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue.

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder.

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out.

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person.

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now.

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort.

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you.

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him.

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle.

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer.

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up.

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes.

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man.

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that.

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—”

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again.

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this.

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you.

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff.

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group.

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice.

Soon, it’s just the two of you.

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond.

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.”

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high.

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts.

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence.

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice.

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud.

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing.

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset.

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running.

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears.

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream.

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care.

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right.

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you.

You feel like you might throw up.

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away.

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking.

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is.

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying.

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder.

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette.

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you.

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection.

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you.

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them.

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again.

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale.

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice.

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive.

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more.

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby.

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again.

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink.

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words.

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles.

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk.

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup.

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant.

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit.

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it.

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede.

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done.

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you.

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him.

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta.

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever.

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side.

“You in there?”

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup.

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing.

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes.

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating.

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him.

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate.

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed.

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive.

Spencer attempts to speak again.

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?”

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face.

You don’t know where it comes from, either.

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms.

Too scared.

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too.

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room.

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final.

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home.

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do.

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing.

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet.

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move.

If only time would freeze before he could walk away.

But it doesn’t.

He sucks in a decisive breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

It’s that fucking phone call all over again.

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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cherie-doll · 16 days

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon : When They Come Back

✧˚ Ghost, Keegan, Soap, König, Phillip Graves

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Fluff for you suckers -hope you enjoy the word vomit ;(

Working under constant danger put a strain on them, at moments when it seemed like the world was nothing but shambles and havoc they’d close their eyes and remember what brought them warmth. There was a certain feeling they yearned for and were only satisfied when you were near.

There is something special in knowing someone is waiting for you.

Ghost

This man comes back completely drained; physically, mentally, emotionally…

At first, he was hesitant concerning your worry about him

“If you won’t let me take care of you, who will?”

Might be a little distant at first, it takes time for his mind to come back

No going out, at all

You say comforting phrases to him

“You’re not at war anymore, you can come home”

He’s been through a lot, a warm meal and hugs are all he needs for days afterward :(

It takes some time for him to recharge

When he feels better he lets you know much he appreciates everything you do for him

Takes time to admire you; he silently takes in your facial features

Affectionate gazes that flicker between your eyes and lips

He knows you aren’t obliged to it yet you make an effort for him and that makes him feel like he’s earned a much better reward than money or glory could give him

Keegan

Saying this man missed you is an understatement

It’s like you placed a spell on him the moment he met you

If it were up to him, he wouldn’t want to be a moment away from you

He’ll miss you in silence, won’t send letters or texts or anything knowing it’ll make his heart ache more

But when he walks through the door he falls to kissing you

Bites your lip just for the taste of you on his tongue

His lips leave yours for breaks in between intense kisses to whisper “I love you”

He feels empty without the intimacy and closeness of you

He doesn’t care what you do or don’t say, doesn’t expect anything big either, he just wants to see you with your arms open for him

Soap

No matter how bad it was this time, he always comes back with a smile on his face when you open the door

Even behind that loving smile, you catch the subtle dimness in his eyes

Peppers you with kisses all over your face

Extremely clingy

Needs to be reminded that the world can be kind and gentle

Needs you to dote excessively over him

You give him a shoulder massage as he washes up in the bathtub

Convinces you to join him

Afterward, you crawl into bed with him, cradling his head on your lap

Both of you turn into couch potatoes for a couple of days watching cozy films

König

Keeping up a stoic demeanor can be tiring, so he easily drops the poker face as soon as he buries his face into your neck

No matter how much prying you do, you won’t get him to open up about what disturbs him

He’d rather keep those horrors locked away from you, you’re his most cherished possession

A lot of quiet moments where he’s just content to be with you again

Little is said between you as tender and passionate kisses are exchanged

Don’t think he’ll leave your side for the next few days, you’re attached at the hip

As you trace the scars on his back to his shoulders, you feel his body tremble beneath your fingertips

Your touch is addictive to him; soothing him into a tranquil sleep

Phillip Graves

He’s had to deal with a lot of crap so he’s relieved to finally come back to some peace, and most importantly; you

At first, he didn’t want to overwhelm you with issues that aren’t yours, but as your relationship progressed he started opening up more

Oftentimes, he’s in an irritable mood when he comes back

You listen to him rant if that’s what he needs

Other times it gives him too much of a headache to even think about

He adores you for understanding him without words being spoken

With so many enemies he has, he feels undeserving of you, someone who’s like a warm ray of sunshine in his austere life

When he falls silent you know that’s your cue

A sort of haze entrances him as you trail soft, torturous kisses along his jaw

Your scent obscures his mind as he gets drunk on your affection

He can’t even remember what he was mad about

#cod fanfic #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #cod soap #konig x reader #konig cod #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves cod #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #headcanon

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gojo-mochi · 6 months

Text

“C’mon baby show me that you care.”

CW: Shanks is your dad’s friend in this au. Modern!AU. Fem!Reader. Toxic!Shanks. Age gap (Reader is in first year of College 20s and Shanks is about 40s), Degradation, dubcon, spanking, fingering, P/V, toxic coercion, manipulation. Slight voyeurism. Sex on top of a car. Nicknames (Baby and sweetie)

A/N: I um don't know what to say. Haha - hi? *twirls hair* I was listening to Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo while I posted this hah

WC:4.3k

You first met Shanks at a family barbeque, he was an old friend of your dad but he didn’t really look that old to you. Sure he had some stubble going on but his hair showed no signs of graying or another like that. When your dad began to introduce you to him, you first noticed the scarring over his eye, he catches you staring and winks at you. “Careful, look too long and you might end up falling for me.” Your face turned as red as his hair at that moment, your dad didn’t seem to take it seriously as he laughed and smacked Shanks’s back, “Ah, still up to your old tricks huh, Shanks?” Shanks laughed back, finally saying hello to you properly. You wished that you paid more attention to your dad’s words at that time…

Months passed before you saw Shanks again, this time you found him with a woman wrapped around his arm, walking into the cafe you were already sitting at. You didn’t pay him much attention and focused back on your lecture notes, scribbling down notes after notes, lost in your studying when Shanks plonked down on the seat across from you. He gave you a wide grin and a wave of his hand, “Yo! Y/N, right? Long time no see!” You were a bit startled but pleasantly surprised that he remembered you. You tucked some hair behind your ear as you greeted him, “Ah that’s me. Your name was Shanks?”

His eyes glinted as he leaned over closer to you, “Aw come on now, don’t tell me you forgot about little ol’ me that quickly?” He got really close to your personal space, placing a hand over your notebook even, making you focus solely on him. He stares at you for a couple of seconds, “Oh wow, you've gotten prettier since the last time I saw you? What’s your secret, hmm, baby?” That pet name he used went straight to your head, making you stutter as you try to think of what to say, Shanks chuckles, bringing his hand to softly pat your blushing cheeks. “Trade secret? I won’t tell if you don’t~” He winked, and his words were not lost on you, as he stood up to take the open seat directly next to you now.

Knocking your thighs together as he absentmindedly picks up your notebook and flips thru your notes. “Wow, smart and pretty, aren't cha?” He casually placed a hand on your thigh, his pinky faintly touching the hem of your skirt. “Hard to find girls like you nowadays…” He murmurs like he was talking to himself, you fidget under his touch, feeling hotness bubble up inside of you. “Um, Mister Shanks, can I have my notes back? I have an exam I need to study for.” He gasps dramatically, “Mister Shanks? I thought we were closer than that, baby.” He squeezes your thigh and lets go of it in the next second, placing your notebook back down, and getting up. You thought he was getting ready to leave but he took your phone from you and put his number in, throwing it back to you with a carefree smile, “If you ever need any help with your notes or anything else. Be sure to call me, ok, baby?”

He finally leaves you after that, assumingly back to that woman he came in with but you didn’t bother to check as your heart and mind was reeling from that interaction with him. That night you stared at the number saved on your phone under the contact ‘Shanks <3’, you didn’t text him that night. You didn’t text him at all actually, chalking his actions up to it all being some sort of game to him. You were more focused on your studies at the moment, you couldn’t be roped up in some random older guy’s scheme. So more months pass, you did well in your studies and even found yourself a boyfriend! Forgetting all about Shanks during that time.

Shanks did come over though, more often during this period, he and your dad started hanging out more so he was invited to some family dinners. He didn’t do much except for the occasional touches and multiple winks. He asks you about your studies and stuff you like at the dinner table. You try not to blush a lot when he talks to you, but he makes it hard from how he focuses his attention on you. Giving follow-up questions, remembering things you told him from the previous dinner, and even giving you small gifts from time to time. You were slowly warming up to his charms, falling for all his honeyed words and alluring touches.

It was supposed to be another nice family dinner with Shanks again this week, something that you look forward to. But tonight as you walked into your home, you slammed the door behind you and walked straight to your room without a word. Your parents came to check up on you, knocking on your door and asking if everything was alright, but you shooed them off saying that everything was fine. But, everything was not fine, you just found out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for months now, you just confronted him earlier that day and broke up, so all the pain and emotions were crashing down on you.

You buried your head under your pillow as you wailed and cried your little heart out, you heard the door creak open but mumbled “Go away.” to whoever came in. They didn’t seem to listen though as you felt your bed dip and a soothing hand start to rub at your back. You angrily shot up to yell at them, “I told you to go away!”, tears blurring your vision you could still see that this was not your parents but Shanks who came in to soothe you. His hand is still on your back as you gape at him, “Easy there, sweetie.” You threw your pillow at him, smacking him right in the face, you felt a little bit bad seeing him just take the hit full on without even dodging or taking his hand away.

He grabbed the pillow and placed it by your side, “Feel better?” his hand continued to rub circles on your shoulders, lessening the tension you first felt when he came in. His tone was so soft and sweet, that your walls were melting bit by bit and you threw yourself on to him this time. Clutching at his shirt, bawling your heart out, spilling tears and all the things your ex-boyfriend ever did to you. His shirt was getting wet but he didn’t seem to care, pulling you in closer to sit on his lap as he tucks his chin on your head and envelops his arms around you. His scent invaded your nose, a musky and spicy cologne that he always wore, it made your head spin a bit.

His hand weaves through your hair, petting it gently as he cooed to you, listening quietly to your woes. As your voice gets more hoarse later on, falling to whimpers and burbles, he leans back, cupping your face in his hands. You shake your head, trying to cover your face from him seeing it. “Aw, come on now, baby. Let me see that pretty face of yours.” He slowly takes your hand into his, and tilt your chin up to face him. You knew you looked like a mess right now, you felt like a mess right now. But as soon as Shanks saw your face, he gave you a long smooch on your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks, lingering on each kiss a bit longer than the last.

“There’s my girl, that guy doesn’t know what he lost.”

His stubble tickles you a bit with each kiss he places on you, making you feel almost giddy on the inside. His words and action were stirring something inside of you, making you do something that you wish you could take back. You surge forward, planting your lips on his, even going as far to poke your tongue out at him. “Mmpf!” Shanks was shocked at this sudden intrusion, allowing you to slip your tongue in his mouth sloppily, tasting a strange mixture of mint and something bitter, remembering that he usually likes to sips wine at the table. He pushes you away once your hand goes to paw at his bulge.

Hands gripping down on your shoulders as he stares at you, wide eyes, lips parted and a bit swollen and shiny with your lipgloss smeared all over it. You teared up again, blubbering out an apology as shame filled your gut. “I-I’m really sorry, oh my fucking god, what’s the hell wrong with me? I-” Shanks holds your tear stricken face in his hands and wipes away the oncoming tears, shushing you gently, “It’s alright, haha, I’m not mad that a cute girl like you decided to come on to me, to be honest. But, tell me, sweetie, is this something you really want?” His tone got deeper, laced with something that made your stomach churn.

Shanks leans in to kiss you on the lips again, tracing your bottom lips with his tongue tenderly. Pulling away and chuckling as you whine, hands clutching on his shirt, eyes begging for more. “Now, now, your parents are still worried, waiting in the kitchen, I don’t think you want them to come in here and find us like this, now would we?” His hands travel down your chest, squeezing at them for a bit, before unbuttoning your jeans, his fingers dancing on the edge of your panties. “Don’t worry though, baby, after all, I did promise your parents that I’d help you. But only if you can beg me for it, can you do that for me?”

His fingers dip inside your panties, feeling the wetness that was already forming, his tone changed again when he asked, “Can you say ‘Please make me feel good, Shanks?’” You hiccup the words he wanted out, feeling your mind start to get hazy from his actions already, his other hand leads your head down onto his shoulder. “Good girl, now try to be quiet for me, alright?” He didn’t spare another second after asking that, his fingers moving quickly inside of you, plunging in with such precision that you felt an orgasm building fast already. You bit down on his shoulder as the almost shocking orgasm washed over you, muffle your screams and moans.

Shanks fingers left you, making you clench around nothing, feeling utterly empty, he laughs outright when you whine. His digits poking at your lips, as you obediently opened your mouth to lick them clean. After you were done, he pats your head and gives you one last kiss, “I have to go now, sweetie. Be a good girl and try not to worry your parents, yeah?” When you tug at his shirt and ask him to stay, his face changes into a disappointed one. “I thought I told you to be a good girl, yeah? You can handle the night without me, can’t you? You’re a big girl, sweetie.” He sighs out, making you drop his shirt and shrinks back into yourself with a soft “Sorry..” escaping your lips.

His mood instantly changes upon seeing you so docile, cupping your chin up and pressing a heated kiss on your lips, with a promise of, “Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon, sweetie. I’ll be sure to show you what a real man is.” And with that, he left, closing your bedroom door behind him. You try to strain your ears to catch the words he was saying to your parents but they were too far away for you to make any sense of it. You crawled back in your bed, too tired to clean up or change, opting to just throw away your jeans, rubbing your thighs together as the slick in between started to feel uncomfortable. Sleep that night came fast but it was not peaceful, you tossed and turned, your mind replaying your breakup with your ex and what happened with Shanks in your bedroom. You didn’t know what to feel about it or the words he said to you.

Shanks disappeared for a couple of weeks after that incident, you asked your dad once when he was coming over for dinner again but your dad just shrugged saying that Shanks seemed to be busy. Bitterness bubbles up in your heart, Shanks was just like those other guys, he didn’t care about you. You pushed down any feelings of attachment or affection for him, that was until, one day after you were done with class and was walking home. A red mustang pulled up right beside you, the window rolled down and Shanks winked at you from the driver seat.

You didn’t know if you wanted to cry from happiness or anger at this point, you chose anger seeing at how casually he greeted you like nothing happened. “The hell do you want?” You spat out, eyebrows furrowed in, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Shanks got out of the car and came to embrace you, strong arms trapping you in his hold. The tears came out as you smack and hit at his chest, venting out your frustrations at him. Your meager attacks barely did any damage to him apart from the sparse grunts. Once you exhausted your strength and your body limped on to Shanks, him rubbing those same damning circles on your back that always seem to calm you down.

Your cries settled down to barely audible whimpers and Shanks usher you in his car. You slump down in the passenger seat and he buckles you in, getting in the driver seat soon after. You lean your head on the window, watching the scenery pass you by, silently cursing yourself for being so easy. You should be more mad at him, curse him out more, hit him more, but when Shanks’ hand comes to squeeze your thigh and he gives that charming smile, your heart shoves your rational mind out of the way.

“Why did you leave?”

Shanks turns down the radio, glancing at you, “What was that, baby?” You dry swallowed, feeling your throat burn a bit, he’s still using that nickname on you. “You left, without a word. You left me alone, after what happened, I mean, I thought that…” You trail off, pressing your head against the window, feeling childish for voicing out your feelings to a man almost twice your age. Shanks let out a hum, his hand on your thigh started to trace small circles and a repeating pattern on it. It was almost hypnotic the way he does it, you immediately felt your body calming down from his touch alone.

“Sorry, something came up for me, and I got super busy. I wanted to contact you, but I don’t have your number, remember? And it’s not like I can contact your dad and be like ‘Hey, can you tell your cute daughter who I fingered bang in your house that I’ll be busy for a couple of weeks?’”

You swat at his shoulder, with no malice or anger this time, giggling as you do so. “Shanks!” He sticks out his tongue at you as a retort. “I really am sorry, baby. That’s why I’m taking you somewhere special tonight.” You sink back in your seat, fiddling with your hands a bit. “Where are we going?” Shanks turns to look at you for a second, winking, “Somewhere special, I promise you’ll love it.” That ‘somewhere special’ turned out to be on top of a hill, overlooking the city. Far away enough from the light pollution so that the night sky shone like diamonds above the two of you.

Shanks took your hand and led you out of the car to view the sights, “Pretty, isn’t it?” His hand slid down to your back, you scoff and cross your arms, “If you’re gonna say ‘But it is not as pretty as you’ I’m gonna leave.” Shanks laugh heartily at that, squeezing your waist and pulling you in his side. “Is that what boys your age say?” You chewed on your lips for a bit, thinking of what to say. “Why does that matter to you?” You felt a little bit smug for only a couple of seconds as Shanks pinned your back to the front of his mustang. Easily lifting you up and pushing you back on the hood, forcing his knee to come right in the middle of your skirt.

He nipped at your neck as his sultry voice murmured out, “Cause I believe that I promised that I would show you what a real man is, isn’t that right?” Your hands clawed at his back, as his knee started to nudge under your skirt, rubbing a wet spot on your panties. “Wait-here? What if someone sees us?” Your nails dig in a bit as he replaces his knee with his hand instead, sucking in a heavy breath at feeling how drench you already gotten. “No one comes up here besides me and I think you like the idea of getting caught, don’t you? Daddy’s precious little girl is a needy slut, isn’t she?”

You liked to think that you were better than this, to let some older man degrade you and fuck you out in the open. Haven’t you learned your lesson from your last ex and hearing all those stories fuck boys and frat boys around campus. Shanks exude the same kind of energy those guys have, confident, arrogant, charming, all wrapped in a hot package with red hair and clean stubble. Speaking of ‘packages’ you wonder if Shanks can back all his talk, as Shanks’ hand expertly began to plunge in and you of you in a swift pace. Your thighs shakes and tense up, as your moans and whimpers fill the night air.

Shanks bit down on your neck hard enough to leave a painful mark on it, you hiss in pain, clawing even deeper on his back. The sudden pain with his increasing pace made you reach your peak hard, legs spasming out, ankles locking in behind his back. His hands roughly pull up your skirt and rip open your blouse, a few buttons breaking off in the action. Tugging down your bra and latching a mouth on your nub. Biting at one and tweaking the other one with his hand, it was painful to say the least, you tried to tell Shanks just as much but he just replied with; “Hah? You can take it, can’t you? You’re a big girl. Smart, pretty, more mature than the other sluts at your campus, right?”

He wasted no time, sliding your panties to the side, you didn’t even realize that he got his cock out and was already slapping it against your sensitive bud. You flinch and try to crawl away, pushing yourself further back on the hood of the car, but Shanks shakes his head and makes a disappointed noise at you. “You’re really going to do this now? Tch, looks like I was wrong about you after all.” He didn’t make a move to pull you back in, just leaning back and shaking his head once more as he looked down at you with a disapproving glare. “Guess, I’ll just take you back home.”

Your heart leaped into your throat, your stomach twisted into a pit of anguish, you grabbed Shanks’ wrist and yelled. “Wait! No, I’m ok now! I just-I just was surprised, but I want to do this, I swear-please don’t leave me again.” Your tears welled up again as you blubbered on pleas for Shanks to stay. Shanks yanks you forward, bringing you chest to chest with him, “You really want this?” You nod frantically, Shanks smiles at that, wiping away your fat tears with the back of his hand. “You know what to say then, right? Tell me how much you want my cock, sweetie.”

You nod again, gulping down shakily, “I want it, I want your cock to fuck me, please, Shanks, please.” Shanks gripped your chin forcefully, applying pressure as his eyes darken over when he stared down at you. “Yeah? Are you going to be a good girl now and listen?” “Yes, yes, please, I’ll be good for you, I’m a good girl for you, Shanks.” Shanks growls, releasing your chin and twisting your body around so your back is now to him, as he bends you over the hood of his car. “Good, but that doesn’t mean you’re not gonna get punished for what you did earlier.”

You didn’t really know what you did that warrant a punishment but you were too afraid to get on Shanks’ bad side again and make him leave so you complied. Hands scrambling to find purchase on the slippery surface of the car’s hood as you got spanked. You cried in pain, begging for him to go a bit softer but he answered you with another spank, “Take your punishment like a big girl.” Smack! Smack! Your legs barely were able to keep you up at this point, being pushed aside by Shanks’ knees as he positioned himself behind your entrance, his bulbous head gliding over your folds twice.

Collecting some of your arousal on his tip before he started pushing it in, the stinging pain combined with the pain of being stretched out almost made you pass out but you held on. Shanks lets out a hefty sigh as he fully bottoms out inside of you, hands reaching over to play with your clit to give you some relief as he angles his hips back and slam into you. Over and over again, wet plaps sounded in the air mixed along with his grunts and your soft whimpers and moans. His other hand holds on to your hips firmly, pulling you back on his cock as you bounce off with each smack.

Whether it was because Shanks was a good fuck, the pain and exhaustion of everything before, or a combination of all, you felt another orgasm coming on quick. Your stomach coiled up but your lips couldn’t form any words to let Shanks know that you were about to burst. But he felt it though, from how much your cunt started to tighten up around him.

“That’s it, baby, take it, take my cock in that slutty pussy of yours.”

He starts to go faster.

Plaps Plaps Plaps

“Not such a fuckin bitch, anymore, aren’t cha? Just needed to get fucked and you’re behaving well, again.”

Plaps Plaps Plaps Plaps

“Nghh, fuck, good girl, such a good pussy for me, fuck, I love you.”

And with that being said, you released the coil in your stomach, squirting all over his cock, as Shanks groaned and pulled out, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you down on your knees in front of him. “Open.” He grasped open your chin, tapping his cock on your cheek until your tongue lolled out, spurts of hot white cum covered your face and mouth. He lets go so you could swallow down the bitter substance. After a few seconds of panting from the both of you, Shanks leaves you for a bit, as you hear the sound of his car door opening and rustling, Shanks comes back with a bag.

Grabbing some towels and wipes from the bag, he starts to clean you up, gently and lovingly, all the while praising you for your effort. Your mind was in turmoil after this sudden switch, your thoughts went back to what he said before. “I love you.” You wondered if he really did mean that, “There, all cleaned up, you did a great job, baby.” He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead and helped you on your feet, ushering you in the passenger seat once more. You slumped in the chair, inhaling the crisp clean of his air freshener and the leather seats.

“Now, where do you like to shop for clothes, baby?” You tilt your head at his question, making him chuckle; “What? I can’t let you go back home looking like that, now can I? Don’t worry though, I’ll pay for everything, just let me know what you want and where to go, sweetie.” He started up the car and began heading back down the hill. Turning the radio on on a nice volume, as the two of you rode in silence for most of the time. You look over to him alot, with fear, confusion, admiration, love, lust, and so many other emotions swirling around inside of you.

You needed answers but you didn’t know what questions you should ask first. Do you really love me? What was that about? Do you do this to other girls too? Why did you hurt me? What am I to you? However the only question that you ended up asking Shanks that night was; “Can I see you again soon?” Shanks looks at you, with that charming smile of his, and brushes his hand on your cheek; “Of course, baby, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

#₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #softy write #shanks x reader smut #shanks x reader #shanks headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece smut #please read the warnings

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teencopandthesourwolf · 2 months

Text

“Please.”

Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.

Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.

“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”

Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.

Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.

His messages had read:

> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?

And:

> ill let myself in if thats cool?

And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:

> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed

> all shall be revealed

> lol i don't know why i put that

> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?

> as if you wouldn't lol

> #sourwolf

> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me

And then, a few seconds later:

> right?

Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:

Okay, weirdo <

About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.

“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're close enough now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope we are. I'm just so fucking tired, man, and have got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”

Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.

When the steel door had unlocked and slid open, Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension—and also, the strongest of them all; hope.

Let me.

Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.

Let him what?

Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.

Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.

He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.

“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”

And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.

“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.

And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.

Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.

“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.

Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something like relief.

Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.

The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”

Then he promptly stops breathing.

Derek resists the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?

He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.

Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.

As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also, wonderfully, of Derek, now.

Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing, all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”

Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.

Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.

Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.

for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)

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drabblesandsnippets · 13 days

Text

Drabble #2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Background: Just something I wrote in a Target parking lot waiting for my pickup order lol

Summary: Bucky listens to his girlfriend pleasure herself in the backseat of his car.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Explicit sexual content. Masturbation. Dirty talk. Praise. Slight domination.

---------------------------

She has no idea how she ended up in the backseat of his car, her skirt hiked up and her legs spread wide as she touches herself. She’s never done anything like this, but all reservations left her miles ago when Bucky pulled out of the airport parking lot, convincing her to trust him. They still have at least thirty minutes before he can get her home and he wants a show until then.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, his eyes briefly glancing at her in the rearview mirror, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Let me hear you, doll… Fuck, I missed you.” It’s been weeks of phone sex and dirty texts and all Bucky wants to do is pull the car over so he bury himself inside of her. But she deserves more than a quick fuck on the side of the road after being apart for so long.

Her hands keep moving, following his instructions, the teasing pace driving her crazy. She could easily speed things up - he can only see her face after all - but all she wants is to please him. She’s missed him, ached for him in every way, and she’s nothing but a willing participant. One hand cups her breast inside her bra, pinching her own nipple while her other hand stays between her thighs, her fingers rubbing her clit slowly.

Her breath gets heavier, her moans and soft gasps filling the small space as Bucky talks her through it, his words fueling her desire. “God, you’re fucking incredible,” he tells her, his cock straining against jeans, desperate for some sort of relief. He shifts slightly, glancing back at her again before returning his eyes to the road, grateful for his enhanced senses. He needs to hear her, be responsible for her pleasure, but not at the expense of her safety.

When the slow pace becomes too much, she finally asks for more, her body trembling with need. “Bucky, please.” He knows exactly what she wants, and he wants to give it to her, but if she comes before they make it off the freeway, there’s no way he’s going to be able to make it home before he has to have his way with her. So, he continues to make her wait.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he promises, “just keep touching yourself like that. Nice and slow.” Her groan of frustration is laced with pleasure, his praise making her pussy pulse. As much as she wants to complain, or take control back, it’s nothing compared to how much she gets off on submitting to him. She’ll do anything he tells her to, especially like this.

When he finally takes the familiar exit, Bucky glances at her again, turning his head slightly to let her see the smirk on his face, making her breath catch. For just a second, her hands still, her body tense with anticipation, until his voice breaks through, finally giving her permission. “I want you to fuck yourself, can you do that for me, Princess?”

He barely finishes the question before she presses her fingers against her entrance, sliding deep in one smooth motion, making herself cry out in pleasure. Her noises send a jolt straight to his cock and he resists the urge to reach down to free himself, regripping the steering wheel instead, the metal groaning under his vibranium hand.

“There we go,” he breathes, his voice rough, his eyes briefly meeting hers in the mirror. “Just like that... show me how good it feels.” He doesn’t even have to see her hand to know exactly what she’s doing. Two fingers deep inside of her, curled to press against her g-spot while she grinds her palm against her clit. It’s the fastest way to make her come, and he licks his lips at the thought of how wet she is for him.

His ears pick up all the telltale signs of her getting closer to her orgasm, her breath quick and uneven, her head thrown back against the seat. She doesn’t even realize how close they are to home now, but Bucky’s been counting down the seconds, and the moment he reaches their street, he tells her, “Can’t wait to taste you, have you ride my face until you’re screaming my name.” That’s all it takes for her to fall.

---------------------------

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader

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stvrni0lo · 9 months

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

chris sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: chris returns from tour, and he can’t get enough of being back home

warnings: reader and chris being clingy, kissing, fluff

requested?: yes!

> > >

Your foot tapped impatiently against the floor of your car, the music on the stereo offering you some sort of distraction. It still was not enough. Chris had been gone for weeks and you missed him - knowing he was in the same vicinity as you, somewhere, but just out of reach was excruciating.

Checking your texts one more time, you saw no new messages pop through. The last time he had texted was 10 minutes ago to say that he was at the baggage claim.

You stepped out of your car to look around. Suddenly a pair of arms encircled around you, squeezing you against their chest.

“Hi,” came Chris’ voice.

Your face broke out into a smile as you swirled around, jumping to hug him properly. His scent filled your nostrils and you immediately relaxed against him, comfort clouding your mind. How you missed that smell.

“I missed you,” you mumbled against his shoulder.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“I missed you too,” he whispered against your hair.

“Alright lovebirds,” said Matt as he approached, “can we get moving, I’m so tired.”

You rolled your eyes as you painfully peeled yourself from Chris and his embrace.

“Good to see you too,” you said as you hugged him.

After greeting Nick and hugging him as well, you helped the boys put their luggage in the trunk, and you were off. The whole ride home Chris has your hand in his, alternating to rest on your thigh when you needed both hands to drive.

Once you reached their house, Chris practically dragged you up to his room, not even sparing a glance back at Nick and Matt.

He threw his bags down onto the floor and tackled you onto the bed, encasing you in a bear hug.

“Chris!” you exclaimed, breath shallow under his weight.

“What? I can’t hug my girlfriend?” he said.

You gently pushed him off so you could lay on his chest.

“Not when you’re suffocating her.”

Chris laughed, the vibrations in his chest thrumming throughout your entire body. It was so good to have him back.

Looking up at him, you smiled, noticing that he was already staring down at you.

“Okay creep,” you joked.

His hand came to brush a stray hair from your face, fingertips so gentle that you barely even felt them.

“You’re just so pretty,” he whispered.

You smiled, heat creeping to your cheeks. Leaning in just enough so your lips were ghosting over each other, you responded.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

Chris nudged your nose with his before closing the gap between you two. He sighed into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly. Hands traveling across his forearms, the came to rest on his shoulders as he flipped you over.

He pulled away to look at you, adoration in his eyes.

“I’m really happy to be home.”

His head came to rest on your chest, arms wrapping around your back. You began to play with his unruly curls as you listened to his breathing evening out. Chris fell asleep in an instant.

“I love you,” you muttered tiredly as you drifted off not long after.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagine

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taesankisser · 3 months

Text

how the boynextdoor shows his love <3

warnings: no genuine warnings! just lots & lots of love

author’s note: just something small i wrote because i am DEEP in my soft bnd feels <3

song rec: firework by &team

writing under the cut !

sungho: he's so romantic, typically choosing acts over words. he'll get you flowers quite often, sometimes your favorite and other times he'll get you special bouquets. the special bouquets he gets you always have a few of your favorite flowers plus other ones with specific meanings. he doesn’t get you flowers just because they’re pretty, but rather, there’s a hidden message within each bundle he hands you. another way he shows his love happens when he notices you're lacking with cleaning, he'll take it upon himself to make your room spotless. he loves you by taking things off your plate; taking some of life’s weight off your shoulders. he’s so intentional with his love, and being loved by him is such a gift.

riwoo: he shows his love by allowing you in. he seems like he is rather quite the private person, but when he reaches that point of trust with you, he’ll be so open with you. to him, you’re his comfort person, which is someone he can be himself around without any sort of hesitation. another way he shows his love is through his unconditionality, he loves you how he wants to be loved. he truly loves you as you are and without any sort of expectation.

jaehyun: myungjae is the biggest simp ever, but in the best most positive way possible. he is so good at loving you, and making it known. not a single day goes by where you don't feel it. he texts you all the time, updating on every detail of his day. he takes you out to cute restaurants/cafes, holds your hand wherever the two of you go, and willingly lets you steal his clothes. he’s so precious in the way that he’s so outwardly excited about loving you. loving you is a joy to him and he treasures you so deeply.

taesan: another mr romantic over here for SURE! he’s not as outwardly expressive either, but rather, makes a point to infuse every act of his with love. he’ll make you matching bracelets, which he will never take off. he’ll send you adorable videos of two cats and tell you that they’re like the two of you. he’s quite touchy, sticking to you like glue. he’ll wrap an arm around you, or put his hand anywhere he can, when the two of you are together. he loves the feeling of physical touch, it’s comforting for him to have you in his grasp.

leehan: he is always ready to drop everything if you need someone to listen to. he's the best listener, always so engaged with his consistent eye contact and head nods. you can pour your heart out to him and he'll never judge you or look at you differently. being vulnerable with him is something that comes so easy. you can share anything and everything with him. he's like the human embodiment of a heated blanket; he's warm, comforting, and reliable!

#boynextdoor fanfic #boynextdoor x reader #sungho x reader #riwoo x reader #myung jaehyun x reader #taesan x reader #leehan x reader #bnd x reader #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor x y/n #boynextdoor scenarios #bnd fanfic #bnd imagines

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ghouljams · 11 months

Note

I must (politely) demand more animals for Bee - ☀️

You stare at the little yellow peepers under the warm light in the supply store. Their fluffy bodies and teeny little wings are the cutest things you've ever seen. You want one. You could handle a chicken, chickens are super easy(you think) people in the suburbs keep chickens.

But what if it gets lonely? You can't bring a little baby chicken home and leave it all by itself! Who ever heard of having one chicken? It's absurd. You'd have to get it a friend. But what if they get in a fight and stop talking? Ok three chickens...

You leave the store with five chicks peeping away in a cardboard box. You swing by the feed store and are so astonished by the price of feed that you actually ask about a discount. Which apparently was the right thing to do given how excited the owner looked. Plus there was a nice guy in line behind you who let you know haggling was kind of the thing to do in the feed store.

You get home with nothing you'd planned to purchase. You call König from the car. He doesn't answer, which is weird, but he's probably busy. A text works just as well, youll do that when you get home. You pull up to your house and find someone already parked there. Also weird.

There's a woman leaning against the cab of the beat up truck, chocolate brown hat tipped low over her eyes as she scrolls through her phone. She also has a cardboard box under one arm and a baking tray resting on the top of the cab.

She looks up when you step out of your car and gives you just about the friendliest smile you've ever seen.

"Wow you're really fixing this place up," the woman, Goose, she said to call her Goose, says with a low whistle. She'd pretty handily forced her way into your home, handing you a tray of brownies which you suppose are sort of a decent entry fee. They tasted good enough.

“Doing my best for it,” You say around a mouthful of brownie. You set your box of peepers on the coffee table, eyeing the box she sets on the ground. "Hey you know anything about chickens?" You ask her, nudging the box for her to peak into.

"Oh cute! You know you got five of these suckers in here right?" She asks scooping a chick out of its carrier, you nod. She shrugs and puts it back. "You got an anything with a roof on it and some chicken wire? I got some milk crates in the truck but that's about it."

"I was going to wait for my neighbor to come by and help," you tell her watching her roll her sleeves up.

"Probably not a good idea considering the cat." She nods at the box she'd brought, you stare at it.

"Who?"

"Our barn cat had kittens, thought you might need a housewarming gift." Goose crouches and tugs the cardboard open. Almost immediately you're yelled at by a very orange kitten. It's tiny meow making the chicks peep nervously. Goose scoops it up with little fanfare and deposits him in your waiting hands. You love this woman.

"I think I'm in love with you," you tell her, half joking.

"I get that a lot," she grins, "Alright you watch the cat, I'm gonna raid your shed." You nod quickly, and point her towards the back.

You stare at the kitten for a second, watching him purr up a storm and listening to him yell at you. Spot. You boop his little pink nose and settle him on your shoulder.

König has never felt panic like getting out of the shower to a missed call from you. No message left, no follow up text, He can't hear you over the bugs... best case you must've been in town and had a question. Worst case you're dead or dying and he missed his one chance to save you.

He does his best not to run to your house, doesn't want to spook the horses, but the extra truck in your driveway certainly makes him hurry. Then he hears you laugh and his heart nearly stops he's so relieved.

König follows the sound of your chatter around to the back of the house. You're perfect. Glowing in the sun, crouched in the grass as you play with a kitten, chatting with a woman he's never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something and- his mask.

Shit. He'd been in such a rush getting dressed he'd forgotten his bandana and thrown on his hood like he was used to from so many years with KorTac. You couldn't see him like this. Most importantly the woman you were with couldn't see him like this. He could see the gun she had tucked under her clothes, and he knew well enough how threatening he looked.

At least you were safe. And making a friend, that was good. You need friends. König rips the hood off his head and considers his options. He'll go back for his bandana, then come over and introduce himself. Or better yet maybe this new woman will be gone by the time he gets back.

You make a noise of surprise and he watches you pull your phone out, typing a quick message. His phone lights up as you put you phone back in your pocket.

From: 💕

Forgot to text you! Picked up some chicks but I'm handling it don't worry!!! Help me with names when you get a second

König smiles at his phone, he'll let you finish up your fun and swing by to check on your work. You're growing quite the little farm for yourself. Which is good, you'll need to know how to do these things once you're married. Although he isn't sure if you've quite grasped what all these animals are for yet...

#cowboy!könig #oc: bee #greetings from spain everyone!! my first day here has been so good #i am drinking and writing and enjoying time with my sister :)#König trying to explain to Bee that shes gonna eat her animals and she will not hear it #piggy smalls is a pet and how dare König imply otherwise #könig x reader #könig x you #x reader #könig modern warfare #könig cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #oc: goose #since i guess she makes an appearance #also Gaz in Murphy's giving Bee a heads up about haggling #king and queen of making sure bee doesnt die #theyre coming for your throne könig watch out #☀️ anon

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boredzillenial · 5 months

Text

Coworkers

You and your new coworker find yourself in an awkward position. (Continuation of “Is That My Shirt?”)

Themes: college AU, Moon boys are in separate bodies, f!reader, ridiculous amounts of awkwardness in the library, momentary NSFW, kissing

Wordcount: 2.1k

That was rough. You’d managed to slip past Marc’s confused stance while Jake was chasing Steven down the hall. For the last week you’d been ignoring Jake’s persistent texts teasing you about Steven along with his repeated Venmo requests for the coffee. You were sure sooner or later they’d corner you in one of the many buildings on campus. For now you hid in the one place neither Jake or Marc would go, the library.

Deep in the bowels of the staff area you sorted through a pile of returned book carts, getting everything together as orderly as you can when the familiar tone of your supervisor cuts the silence.

“Hey hey, figured you could use some help.” Her tone betrays that she is about pawn some sort of responsibility onto rather than help.

You didn’t bother looking up when you reply “Oh, hey Donna.”

“This is Stevie, I need you to show him the ropes. Thankssss.” Her voice fades as you hear her footsteps disappear. This can’t be happening this can’t possibly be-

A familiar soft voice interrupts your internal panic, “Hello, sorry I didn’t realize you work here…” You look up slowly, taking in his oversized sweater and slacks. His curls are a bit disheveled and he’s got some dark circles under his eyes.

“Hi Steven,” you try to tilt your voice up a bit, it wasn’t his fault Jake was giving you such a hard time. Judging by how tired he looks he’s probably getting the same treatment.

His eyebrows furrow a bit, worry flashing across his features as he wrung his hands. “I don’t wanna make your work difficult. If you’d like me to leave I can.” He takes a breath and stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking awkwardly at the stacks of books, “No where else on campus is hiring currently but, I can find something.” He shrugs.

You take a deep breath of your own as you watch him, pity pushing you to a choice that definitely wasn’t in your best interest. “No, don’t do that I - I think we can make this work. We can at least try right? I mean nothing really happened.”

He can’t hide the bit of excitement that flashes across his face at your decision. “Yeah? Thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” His growing smile pulls a twitch at the corner of your own lips before you can tamp it down. You didn’t exactly like how much you were enjoying his enjoyment.

“Come on, grab a cart we gotta return these to the shelves.” You point to a cart and wheel your way out of the backroom and into the main entryway. “I like to go floor by floor. All of these are first floor. I want you to take your time, pay super close attention to the numbers on the spine so you put them in the right spot.”

He nods, his expression a little too serious as he listens to your instructions. “I won’t let you down.” He sounds as if you’re sending him off on a war mission. You chuckle a little at how concentrated he looks as he starts at the first book on the cart and wheels around to find its proper place. You make your way over to the elevator, off to put away the cart full of books for the second floor.

One Week Passes

Steven’s first week at the library is uneventful. He made a few mistakes here and there but he’s really getting to know his way around the first floor. Full of mostly fiction, children’s books, and DVDs the occasional student rents.

Though Steven had been hard at work at his tasks for this past week you couldn’t help but watch him. I mean you were supposed to keep an eye on him. But your gaze lingered in a way that disquieted you. That cuddle session hadn’t meant anything, it couldn’t. You kept your distance as you watched.

But now Donna has decided he should take on more responsibility, and help you on the higher floors. Full of medical journals, textbooks, and stressed students. Anxiety began to fill your gut.

“That one.” You point at a cart and make your way a little too quickly to the elevator. Trying to steady your erratic heart you take a deep breath. You can hear Steven’s light trot behind you and the squeaky wheels of his own cart as he catches up.

“You alright?” He asks gently as he stands beside you. Close beside you, why was he nearly touching your shoulder with his own Jesus Christ.

“Yeah fine, why.” You force a light tone which, judging by his face he catches immediately. The elevator dings and you both make your way into the cramped space.

“It’s just, you’ve been a bit short today. Didn’t know if anything was wrong or if - if I was doing somethin’ wrong?” He looks at you with a mixture of a plea and cringe at what you might say.

“You’ve been doing fine, great actually.” You say softly as you hit the button for the third floor. The doors close infront of you, the shiny metal reflecting you both. You meet Steven’s gaze in the reflection, you heart thundering so hard you began to wonder if he could hear it, “That’s why Donna wants you to help up here.”

His gaze shifts in the mirrored door, settling on you directly. “Do - do you want me to help up here?” You meet his gaze, brows tilting up at his sincerity.

“I -“ your sentence cuts short when the doors open, you quickly scoot out of the cramped space and disappear into the stacks.

You think you’ve momentarily freed yourself from the awkwardness of the elevator till you hear Steven clear his throat behind you. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable-“ you whip around and he throws his hands up in surrender “I’d just like to know if I should make myself scarce yeah?” He whispers.

You take another steadying breath, “You’re fine Steven, I’m just having a tough day. Let’s knock this floor out, we’ve got more carts waiting downstairs.” You whisper back to him.

He nods once and takes a look at his cart, picking a textbook off and sorting it carefully on the shelf. As you both begin your work in that aisle you hear a soft, rhythmic creaking. Confusion furrows Steven’s brow as you feel like your heart is about to jump out of your throat.

“What’s that?” He whispers and looks toward the direction of the noise.

You sigh and pinch your brow to gather your nerves, “Just, brace yourself.” You both silently shift through the stacks toward the noise. Please don’t be what you think it is for the love of everything please.

You make your way to a small seating area in the very back. When you look across the sets of conjoined carrel desks you don’t see anyone at first. But what you hear struck a nerve in your core. A muffled whimper and the wet, soft, steady sound of skin hitting skin.

An unintelligible look crosses Steven’s face as he blushes. Normally, you’d just drop a heavy textbook to send horny students scattering in different directions. But what you saw shocks you, Steven was creeping toward the sound.

Dumbfounded you follow behind him. Curious as to what the fuck he thought he was gonna do. Steven froze just as he must’ve caught a glimpse and when you round the corner you see exactly why.

There was Jake, rutting into a girl bent over the desk, one hand clasped over her mouth. His other hand gripping her exposed breast, twisting her nipple in tandem with his thrusts.

“Jake!” You gasp, the girl beneath him jolts and looks at you with wide eyes. Jake however, only slows his thrusts momentarily. Keeping her pinned in place as he looks at you.

“Give me five minutes and I won’t give either of you any more shit.” His mixture of a growl and a whisper send lighting through your nerves. It must’ve done the same to her as she whimpers beneath his hand.

You shake your head, grabbing Steven’s arm and dragging him quickly back into the stacks.

“I can’t believe - does that happen a lot?” Steven stammers, that ruddy hue across his cheeks spreads to his ears. His eyes are a bit wide and his breathing shallow.

“From time to time, usually very late at night and never Jake. I didn’t even know he knew there was a library on campus.” You try to joke, to somehow break this awkward heated tension thrust onto both of you. Was Steven as turned on from what you both witnessed as you are? A quick glance down confirms your question.

Steven returns your awkward laugh with his own as he follows you back to your carts. You hoping to whatever god will listen that your underwear will hold all the slickness pooling in them. At one point you could’ve sworn you saw Steven turn away from you to adjust himself, his bulge a little less noticeable once he turned back.

You both work in silence for the rest of your shift, but there’s something different in the air surrounding you two. Steven keeps brushing against you. Whether it be back to back as he moves past you, or the back of his hand grazing yours as he stands beside you. You shake your head to try to clear it. He was probably just distracted from earlier.

You catch his eye for a moment, a flush returns across his cheeks as he quickly looks away. “You alright?” You ask softly.

“Yeah, it’s not the first time I’ve walked in on Jake with a girl.” He tries to shrug but the movement comes off awkward. “It’s just -“ he starts to say but quickly stops himself.

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about it.” You put a gentle hand on his arm, squeezing the soft fabric of his sweater and feeling his toned muscles beneath.

“It’s embarrassing really but, Jake won’t come off it. I kinda feel like he’s doin’ it on purpose sometimes. Like some sort of weird motivation to get me to-“ he stops himself again, the blush spreading to his ears again “get me to lose my…”

“Oh, you’re a…” you aren’t quite sure how to finish that sentence. Virginity was nothing to be embarrassed about but with Jake’s behavior you’re sure Steven must get an earful.

“Yeah, I just haven’t found the right person yet. Most people are such knobs I just-“ his voice trails off as he rubs the back of his neck. His mixed look of frustration and hesitancy stirs something in you. “I’m not looking for some big romantic thing at this point. I wanna get it over with, just to say I’ve done it.” He rubs his hands across his face.

“I could -“ the words jump out before you can stop yourself.

Embarrassment roils in your stomach, did you seriously just offer to-

“You’d do that f’me?” He says softly, his eyes matching his tone with an edge of something else. Something a bit hungrier. “I don’t wanna make things awkward for you, with Marc and Jake I mean.”

“Oh I think Jake and I are pretty even now. In fact.” You pull out your phone. Deny his latest insistent Venmo request and make one of your own:

$20 : you know why.

You look up to Steven just inches infront of you. His deep brown gaze locked on your lips, his breathing uneven. “Can I?”

“Ye-“ before you even finish his lips are crashing into yours, his hands gripping your face in an almost too firm grip. The sheer intensity, the hunger of his kiss draws a moan from you.

You feel him shiver, returning your moan with one of his own as he pushes you against the bookshelf behind you. The force of it knocking a few textbooks loose and landing with loud thuds. You jolt for a moment, “Steven hang on-“

“I can’t,” he kisses you again, snaking a hand behind your head to hold you against his lips. You feel his tongue glide against your lips, causing you to groan. Gods you can’t believe what’s happening right now as you put your hands firmly on his chest and break the kiss.

“You have to.” You whisper firmly. His pupils are blown wide and his chest is heaving as he just manages a nod.

“Oh-okay.” He brushes loose curls out of his face as he takes a shaky breath. “When can we, y’know.”

You catch your own breath as you contemplate for a moment, “I’ll text my roomie to sleep somewhere else tonight. She owes me a favor.”

————

MoonKnight Bingo Masterlist

Taglist: @moonknight-events @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxit @faretheeoscar

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #college au #moon knight bingo

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hotchs-big-hands · 7 months

Text

The Slaughterhouse

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader part 1 5.3k words

Minors dni please

Warning(s): VERY DARK, graphic murder description, injury, gore, blood, fatphobia, extreme angst (with a happy ending), sort-of enemies to lovers, kidnapping, torture, references to SA, derogatory nsfw comments. Oh and I use the word fat because I personally reclaimed it to not rly insult me as it is merely a descriptive word. I do not use it in an insulting way even once in the series.

Please heed the warnings, this series is going to be dark asf. No smut in this series tho.

An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.

Hiiiii everyone! I'm really happy to start my new series! It's a vast departure from my previous series lol but I hope you all enjoy regardless! As stated tho in the warnings it's gonna get dark so feel free to skip if you're not comfortable! But if you'd like to be tagged then please let me know! Happy reading 💖💖💖

A thin trail of red tinged water trickled down into the drain, not quite blending together more so than the red slowly spread out in the clear liquid like drops of crimson ink.

"Has Pen got a cute bandaid I could use, you think?" You asked the woman beside you as you rinsed a papercut you'd gained from the insultingly tall stack of paperwork on your desk. The woman, Emily Prentiss, shrugged slightly, tussling her silky, black hair.

"Maybe. I'll text her and ask."

"Thanks."

It didn't take long for the door to the women's restroom to burst open, almost slamming into the wall as a frantic Penelope Garcia rushed over to you, a pink first aid kit in her bejewelled hands.

"I'm here, I'm here! Nurse Garcia to the rescue!!" She cried, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. You chuckled at her as Emily stepped out of the way.

"Thank goodness, I was really starting to have second thoughts about my survival rate here."

Penelope was quick to spring into action, setting the kit down and upon opening it she retrieved an antiseptic wipe.

"Give me your hand, I'm going to clean the area." She instructed, eyes a little narrowed as she began to concentrate. You winced slightly when the antiseptic stung a little, but soon you were sporting an adorable pink bandaid with a Hello Kitty pattern on it. You held your hand out to admire it with a grin.

"Thanks so much, Pen!"

The ditzy blonde woman smiled.

"You are so welcome, my lovely."

"Come on, we need to head back to the bullpen before somebody notices we disappeared." Emily said pointedly, glancing at Penelope who returned the look. You grimaced slightly and took the empty bandaid wrapper to shove in the trashcan under your desk.

"Yeah true, we should go before I end up with another stack of paperwork." You muttered, heading towards the door and pulling it towards you. That somebody was none other than your up-tight, impersonal boss and unit chief Aaron Hotchner. Well, impersonal with you that is.

Your time in the BAU had only been a mere year, but it was long enough to form relationships with your coworkers. Whenever possible, you attended ladies' nights with Penelope, Emily and the only other woman in the BAU; Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau, spent time with the ever charmer Derek Morgan whilst he worked on his house projects and happily listened to the young Doctor Spencer Reid as he spoke extensively about chemistry or some sort of engineering related topic. Hell, sometimes you even offered an ear to the oldest member of the team; David Rossi, discussing his passion for cooking and other such things from his life.

But no matter what you tried, there was no breaking down the walls around Aaron Hotchner and at this point you'd begun to stop trying. And it hurt like hell. Not because he was your boss, you didn't care so much about that, but because you happened to like him very much. Probably too much even. He was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. Even now you couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes wander over to glance at him, to take in his tall stature and handsomely seasoned features. And you knew he had a kind and loving side to him as well from the interactions you'd witnessed between him and your coworkers. But the same couldn't be said for you. He never offered that olive branch to you, never spoke to you besides work related discussion when on cases. Hell, you basically knew nothing of his son besides the snippets the others had told you of the elusive boy. Not from Agent Hotchner, but from Emily, Derek, Penny...

There was no way of saying it didn't sting, because it did very much so. And it had been this way right from when you walked through the door per section chief Erin Strauss' recommendation. Your interview was tense between yourself, Hotchner and Rossi with the two of them seemingly being in disagreement about you. Rossi, on one hand, was adamant about your capabilities and of what you would bring to the team, whereas your now boss was reluctant. Nitpicky. Wanting to find something to use to keep you from the position in the team. And when he realised you were officially in the team on your first day, walking into the bullpen with your slightly busted brown box of desk essentials and trinkets, was when the walls were raised to impenetrable heights.

Sighing quietly, you returned to the bullpen, fingers of your uninjured hand fiddling with the balled up wrapper. Your eyes flicked to the familiar windowed office above the main desk area. The blinds were open. He no doubt knew yourself and Emily had disappeared for a short while. You scowled a little to yourself. What did it matter? As long as you got your work completed all the same then it didn't matter if you were at your desk the whole day or not. And it didn't matter what he thought, or if he even did take notice of your absence or if he knew why you were gone. Or if he worried over you. It didn't matter, you told yourself.

"Hey sweet thing, what's that frown for, huh?" You blinked as you were brought to the present by the voice of your friend Derek Morgan. You turned in your chair to face him with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, I'm just annoyed I got a papercut. Like are you kidding me?" You said humourously and the dark skinned man laughed, his teeth gleaming under the artificial office lights.

"Aww I'm sorry, did you accidentally touch these abs or something?" His eyes were shining mischievously now and you rolled your own with a scoff.

"Yeah yeah, you wish. The culprit was this pile of paperwork though."

In response, Derek formed a heart shape with his hands, only to break it when he moved his hands away from one another, pouting sadly as he slumped back in his chair. You giggled quietly and rolled your eyes before you returned your attention to the casefiles on your desk. But it wasn't long before you spotted the colourfully dressed Penny again as she rushed towards your unit chief's office, meaning there was a case about to unfold. You eyed your coworkers, who returned the glance, then automatically made a move to close the casefile you had open on your desk and added it to the paper tower. You rose from your seat just as the office door swung open again and Penny reappeared with Hotch behind her. As she made her way to the conference room the tall man leaned over the walkway in the direction of your colleagues and yourself.

"We have a case. Be in the conference room in 2 minutes." He said curtly, eyes flicking between each face. They lingered on you for a moment, brows pulled together in a deep frown, then moved away as he followed the blonde woman. Over time you'd come to understand that look; this case was bad. Very bad.

JJ was already in the conference room when you trailed in behind Reid, Rossi following behind you and closing the door as the last person in the room. You took a seat near the far side of the round table from the doorway, Emily moving to sit on your left. Your eyes drifted around the room, brows furrowing very slightly when you couldn't find the unit chief in his usual position at the table. The chair beside you made a sound as it was pulled out and to your horror you realised none other than Derek Morgan had taken Hotch's seat, which meant...

You heard Aaron Hotchner clear his throat to your right as he shifted to get comfortable in the chair, the leather squeaking beneath his weight. You didn't dare look his way, instead turning your head to Emily with a slightly skittish look in your eyes. To your horror she was already looking at you, a devilish smirk battling its way on her face.

"You okay there, (L/n)?" She asked sweetly. You scoffed.

"Always am."

You could have sworn you heard the man beside you draw in a sharp breath.

"Let's get started." He said in his smooth, deep voice.

JJ had laid out the casefiles for everyone to look at, but as you reached forward to grab your copy a tanned, hairy hand gently grasped your wrist. You flinched, body turning to the culprit as none other than your boss. He stared back, brows furrowed deeply and his emotions guarded.

"Careful."

You knew all eyes were on the two of you, the burn of the stares was almost unbearable, like fire ants crawling all over you. And then Penelope cleared her throat, ending the moment. Hotch retracted his hand from your wrist carefully and you turned your attention to the two blonde women about to present the case.

It became very apparent almost immediately why your boss was hesitant for you to open your casefile.

You had seen all manner of depravity in this field of work. And while you didn't exactly enjoy seeing the bodies of victims, even the most gruesome crimes didn't really affect you as much as they used to. But what you didn't expect was seeing the horribly mutilated corpses of women, women who had a common similarity with you. Every single one was fat like you. Well, as best as you could tell through the extent of the mutilations to the bodies. With the side-by-side comparison of the photos of the victims as they were alive and happy, their cheerful smiles besides the butchered bodies was... difficult. Hell, you could effortlessly imagine a photo of yourself alongside theirs with how similar their bodies were to yours.

The voices of your colleagues around you seemed distant as your eyes read the current details of the case. Over the course of 4 months, seven women of varied ethnicities, between the ages of 19 and 25, had all been found dumped naked in a variety of locations in a large town in Texas. Their bodies were butchered and there was evidence of violent sexual assault. A chilling detail was each victim had had their blood drained entirely. You couldn't stop your eyes from drifting back to the photos of their faces.

"(L/n)?"

You blinked, looking up to see who had spoken. All eyes were on you, causing you to wince slightly.

"Yeah?"

Beside you, Emily placed her hand on your arm.

"You alright?" She asked quietly. You were quiet for a moment.

"Oh, yeah I'm... fine. I was just reading the details." You managed to murmur.

"Any thoughts so far?" Rossi cut in, staring at you intently.

"Mhm, this killer holds a lot of resentment towards fat women from the way they've sliced and butchered their bodies. The blood draining is a bit unusual, however I don't think it's for ritualistic purposes."

"What do you suspect it to be about?" JJ spoke. You narrowed your eyes a little as you thought about it.

"I'm... not sure. Maybe there isn't a purpose other than to get rid of the mess."

Beside you, the leather of the chair Hotch sat on creaked under his movement when he closed his copy of the casefile and pushed away from the table.

"We'll continue to discuss theories on the plane. For now, get yourselves ready to go. Wheels up in thirty." He concluded and stood up from his seat, everyone else following along. You closed your file and made a move to follow behind Emily, when the familiar touch of Hotch's hand grasped your wrist gently again. "(L/n), a word."

Helplessly, you watched everyone file out of the room and you sighed gently. His hand dropped away and as you glanced down at your feet you could feel his scrutinizing stare.

"I need you to remain by my side for this case." He said bluntly.

"Huh?"

You frowned at him. This certainly wasn't what you thought he was going to say. You watched as his brow creased.

"I want to keep an eye on you."

What? You blinked at him.

"Why's that, sir? I don't quite follow."

"I don't want to be insensitive but you have seen the victims the unsub targeted. I just want to make sure you're safe." Hotch explained in as gentle of a way he had ever spoken to you. Oh... You swallowed thickly and nodded once.

"I see. Uh, well I appreciate it, sir. I should be okay though, I have you all around me after all."

It was your boss' turn to frown now, evidently displeased with your response. But he didn't push it, picking his casefile off the table and fixing his watch around his wrist.

"If you insist. But I don't approve of this though."

You nodded and cleared your throat, following him as he stalked out of the conference room. As he made a right turn towards his office, you continued forward until you were with the others again. JJ was the first to break the air of curiosity.

"What did Hotch want?" She asked you as she checked she had everything she needed in her go bag. You sighed and crossed over to your desk.

"Said he wants me to stay by his side, given the nature of what we're dealing with."

"And are you doing that?" Derek asked, eyeing you pointedly. You shook your head.

"I don't really want to have to hang back from working on this case as much as I intend on doing so."

Emily lightly nudged you when she approached your desk, her bag slung over one shoulder.

"Maybe he has a point though." She offered but you scrunched your nose up.

"I also don't really feel like spending the whole time with someone who acts like I'm as worthy of their time as a plank of rotting wood would be." You muttered to yourself as you shoved the casefile in your bag, missing the uncomfortable shared glances of your team mates when the subject of your conversation approached the group.

You felt Emily nudge you again and you straightened up, sealing your bag shut.

"Alright, alright I'm ready to go n..ow..." she wasn't looking at you, you realised, and your body tensed when you heard him speak.

"Let's head out." Agent Hotchner said roughly and turned to leave, face sour. Damn, you strongly hoped he hadn't heard you just now but judging from his expression you knew he must have done. Sighing softly, you picked your bag up and swung it over your shoulder. And followed behind the others to head to the airport. It was never a good idea to start a case off with conflict.

Work began immediately when the team met up with the Police department in Memphis, with everyone splitting up to take care of different tasks. Much to your relief, Hotch had teamed you up with Derek to visit the bar the latest victim had been last seen before her disappearance and murder. Despite the time in the day it was rowdy inside, a significant hum of conversation ever present as the two of you navigated around to interview staff and patrons. So far, there had been no luck though with finding any information on whoever was responsible for the crimes.

As your eyes drifted around the room they settled on a young woman who had just entered the bar. She stood around five feet six inches tall with dyed red curls which ended around her shoulders and her figure was similar to your own, albeit slightly bigger. Someone the unsub would target, you thought to yourself bitterly. Her eyes found you and she nervously approached you, gaze darting around. Nudging Derek subtly, you met the girl halfway across the bar. She was shaking.

"Hey, I'm agent (Y/n) (L/n) and this is agent Derek Morgan of the FBI. Are you alright?" You asked her gently and she cleared her throat.

"You're... you're investigating the murders, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet. You nodded and brought your hands up to take hold of her arms.

"I understand it's very frightening right now, but we're here to do whatever we can to find this person."

Derek eyed the young woman, gaze sincere but analysing.

"Do you have anyone of note who could be a person of interest?" He questioned her. Her eyes flitted to him.

"I... I'm not sure. There's a lot of people who treat us badly," She shifted around, folding her arms close to her body. "J-just five months ago there was a girl who got- um, assaulted because she rejected someone. She was like us, a bigger woman."

Derek's frown deepened.

"Is there records of the assault?"

She shook her head.

"Only of her initial report and visit to the hospital. She was um, too scared to say who it was." She scrunched her eyes shut for a second and shuddered. "H-her name was Amelia Dougherty."

A coldness sunk deep within your abdomen and you fought off the twitch of your lower lip. That was the first victim found dead four months ago. You offered a gentle squeeze of her arms.

"What's your name, lovey?" You said sweetly, feeling the young woman relax under your touch slightly.

"Carla. Carla Reynolds, ma'am."

Your thumbs soothingly brushed against her arms, hopeful she took it as encouragement.

"Well, Carla. I want to thank you for talking to us today. Right now though I need you to head home, protect yourself. Try your best not to go out and about alone if you can help it, yeah?" You instructed her and she nodded.

"Okay..."

With one last squeeze, you let go of her and smiled faintly. Beside you, Derek slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle of card.

"If you think of anything or see anything suspicious, call my number. Thank you for your time, Miss Reynolds." He said politely, but not unkindly and you both watched as she quickly left the bar. You exhaled softly and turned to the man beside you.

"We certainly know the possible trigger that started this whole murder spree." You murmured. The man beside you nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket with the intention to make a call.

"We'll head back to the station with what we know. I'm gonna ask Garcia for any files on assault reports within the last few months before the murders." He said as he pressed his phone to his ear.

"Sure, I'll just have one last sweep around."

As the man turned to make a call, you let your eyes drift around the room again to analyse everyone. None seemed to stand out, nor were there any other larger women around at this point. Distantly, you could hear Derek chatting lightly to Penny on the other end of the line but you paid little mind to it. But as you turned around to make your way outside a flurry of people entered the bar and, as a consequence, someone bumped into you and caused you to stumble.

"Hey! Watch it, man!" You heard your companion snap, but whoever it was had long since disappeared into the crowd. You sighed and fixed your clothing.

"It's fine, Der. We have more important things to focus on right now anyway."

You could tell from the expression on Derek's face that he was reluctant to let this drop, but he didn't challenge you. And at this point he had finished the call anyway, so without any further delay the two of you headed outside to drive back to the station.

There were no patterns between any of the assault victims from before the murders. All were a much wider range of women, a wider age range, varying body types and there was a multitude of perpetrators committing these assaults as opposed to one, who was suspected to be acting alone committing the murders. And this didn't even include male victims either. The first day of the case was chalking up to being a frustrating dead-end.

Standing in front of the whiteboard that was covered in tacked on pictures and scrawled out notes, you rubbed a hand over your face as you felt your brain turn into cotton in your skull. It was then you felt a presence beside you, causing you to stiffen slightly.

"Got anything?" You heard the soft, deep rumble of Hotch's voice. You exhaled. As you glanced to your side you realised how close to one another you were and the scent of his cologne hit your senses. It made your head feel a bit fuzzy.

"Other than what we already have, no. Maybe just theories on why the unsub picked out these women in particular." You murmured.

"Let's talk about them."

You turned to him with a slight nod, eyes reluctant to leave the board.

"Well, the photographs; the body language suggests a lot of discomfort. The women don't really like being the centre of attention. They're insecure." You began, motioning to the pictures of the victims from when they were still alive. "The unsub will have taken advantage of this, approaching the women in clubs and bars to flirt with them."

Hotch hummed, his focus entirely on you.

"It would seem likely, yes."

"But why go with the guy if they were so insecure?" A different voice chimed into the conversation, causing the two of you to turn. Behind you, Spencer stared with a furrowed brow and you sighed gently.

"If you're in a position where you've never had anyone show interest in you, or at least never seem genuine about it, it really messes with your self esteem. So having someone spend time with you flirting with you will inevitably cause you to drop your defense a bit. Because, well, you've never experienced this before." You turned to the board again and grabbed one of the markers to write some notes down. "With this I can only imagine the unsub is definitely above average in attractiveness but not so much to the point where the victims wouldn't trust their supposed interest."

"Most likely in the late twenties to early thirties. But we'll continue the profile with fresh eyes in the morning." Hotch said and he motioned to address the others. "We should stop for the night and check in to the hotel. We'll be up early in the morning."

There was a mutual sound of agreement from your colleagues but before you could say anything more to your unit chief, he was walking away briskly and pulling his phone out of his pocket to seemingly make a call. He never seemed to linger around you more than what was required of him. You puffed out a breath and capped the pen in your hand again before setting it down. To your left, you were aware of Emily approaching you.

"Sooo..." She began and you huffed.

"Oh, don't start."

"I didn't say anything!"

With a scowl you turned to her, noting the grin she was trying desperately to fend off. You folded your arms.

"Don't be sly with me, dumbass." You spat and she chuckled.

"You know I don't mean any ill-will. Just wondering how you're getting on."

You scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah sure you are."

"Well, I'm sure it's not easy working beside the man you're definitely not interested in!"

A tired grumble left you as you crossed the room to grab your casefile.

“Girl, we are literally trying to solve a serial murder case right now. I got no time to be thinking about anything but this.”

Emily chuckled and leaned her weight onto her hand braced on the table in the centre of the room.

“I know you’re struggling hard not to think about him though.”

You jabbed her with your elbow and scowled at her.

“That’s enough out of you. Now come on, we’re done for the day.” You said and tucked the manila folder under your arm, not missing the little chuckle from the raven haired woman. Once everyone was ready to depart, you found yourself in the same car as the girls and Reid, sitting in the back as you scrolled through your phone. There was a group chat you all used, originally created for strictly case related situations, but with Garcia around there was no way it was going to remain professional for long. And so now it was a mix of light-hearted conversation and sharing as well as more serious messages. The aforementioned had sent a series of messages in response to knowing you were all retiring for the night and you idly sent your own, typically the one to try and send things that would bring a smile to everyone’s faces. The lights from distant buildings and streetlamps would occasionally light up the interior of the car, illuminating your grip on your phone and the face of Reid sitting beside you in the back seat.

Before long, you had reached your destination following behind the car Derek, Rossi and Hotch were in. After parking up, you all grabbed your bags and trailed in behind the two eldest members of the team as they strode towards the reception desk. After a few minutes, the remainder of you decided to take up the couches in the foyer, realising Hotch and Rossi were taking longer than you thought to sort out the rooms. This was not a good sign, only further proven when they turned to the group, mild agitation on their faces. You sighed.

“Oh no, they don’t look too happy, do they?” You mumbled to Derek, leaning towards him. He chuckled.

“No, they do not. I can only imagine what that means.”

And soon enough the situation was brought to light.

“There was a mishap with the booking and there’s no longer enough rooms for one each,” Hotch said flatly, his shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched. “We’ll have to double up.”

Shit. Your eyes flicked to Emily immediately and your heart jolted upon realising she was staring at you with a widening grin. Oh no.

She pushed up off the couch and grabbed her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, JJ.” She declared and the blonde woman’s head shot up, gaze switching between the two of you. And much to your dismay, she too stood up and followed Emily to grab their room keys.

“Sure.”

Your eyes drifted towards Derek and Reid, feeling slightly hopeful knowing Derek didn’t often enjoy sharing with the young doctor. It startled you when he winked at you, then dragged the wild-haired man to stand up with him.

“C’mon, pretty boy. It’s you and me now.”

Reid seemingly had nothing to say, his brow crooked as slight confusion settled in. Now all that remained was the last two eldest members. Slowly, you turned to look at the eldest.

“...Rossi?”

“Actually, you’ll be sharing with me.” the man beside him spoke, drawing your attention. Hotch eyed you carefully, his brows pulled together slightly. You swallowed.

“I could always take the single room..?” you offered weakly.

“No, I would feel more at ease if you were sharing.”

Rossi raised his brows as he sniffed loudly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“And I need my peace and quiet, so I will take the single.” he said and before you could protest the seasoned agent spun on his heel and retreated towards the elevators.

You sighed gently, slowly rising to your feet and awkwardly approaching Hotch.

“Okay… I guess that leaves us then.”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.” he said, brows pulled together. You held your tongue.

“I don’t.”

With a slight nod, he turned away to find the elevators and you quickly followed, pattering after him with your go-bag held at your side. Hotch reached the elevators quickly, holding the doors open for you then pressing the number for your floor. The ride up was silent, painfully so and despite being less than a minute long it felt as though the seconds had been dragged out to an hour long. Tiredly, you dumped your bag in front of you, eyes wandering around the steel walls around you the longer the ride took. Should you speak? You had no idea, unsure what to even say to the man. As though feeling the same discomfort, Hotch cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another in the empty space the both of you were in. The chime of the elevator stopping to open its doors startled you, blinking a few times at the sound.

As you turned your attention to your bag, Hotch’s hand appeared in view and briskly grabbed the handles of your bag and picked it up. You gasped, looking up at him and realising he was watching you. You drew in a sharp breath.

“Um, thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Once again, he held the elevator door open with his elbow, his hands full with your bag and his. You didn’t comment on it, instead smiling sheepishly and uttering another ‘thank you’ as you passed him. He led the way again, stalking down the carpeted corridor until he stopped in front of a random door. He placed the bags down and made a move to unlock the door, the keys jangling being the only noise in that moment. You both heard the click of the lock coming loose and, after picking the bags up again, Hotch pushed the door open to step inside. But as you followed, you bumped into his solid form and earned a quiet grunt from him, not expecting him to have stopped so suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered aloud, inching around him to see the problem- oh. Hm.

One king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room against the left wall, not the two beds you were both expecting. Fuck.

“I’ll return to the front desk and see if there’s anything they can do to change this.” Hotch said and you turned to look back at him.

“You know there isn’t anything available, though. Let’s just, um, head in and sort out in the morning.”

The longer you stared at the seeming displeasure on his face, the worse you began to feel about sharing with him. Great, he probably was regretting this now.

“Are you certain?”

It made you frown.

“I’m tired, sir. I just want to have a shower and get some rest.” you muttered. He let out a heavy sigh, deepening the uncomfortable feeling in your lower abdomen, but relented by following you inside the room and closing the door when he had deposited the bags onto the bed.

“You can take the first shower.” he offered quietly and your face twitched into a miniature smile.

“Thanks. Won’t be long. You can choose which side to sleep on.”

Unpacking your toiletries and your (regretful choice) of pyjamas, you tiptoed towards the shower room after kicking your shoes off. Hotch had already made claim of the table in the room, spreading out his work across the surface. You closed the door behind you quickly when he shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie, electing to restrict yourself from seeing him in anything less than his standard clothing for your own wellbeing.

You began to undress, untucking your shirt from your trousers, when you finally noticed something truly off.

Your FBI ID was gone. With one brow quirked, you searched through your pockets and in your toiletry bag, expecting to have maybe misplaced it in a sleepy state. But no… You swallowed thickly and opened the shower room door again. Automatically, Hotch’s head moved to your direction from where he was seated on the side of the bed nearest the hotel room door and he tilted his head.

“What is it?”

You cleared your throat.

“U-uhm… My ID; it’s gone.”

Wooooooo spooooky idk idk I HOPE PPL ENJOYED THIS FIRST PART it's not gonna be jolly from here on out until the end 🥴 if you'd like to be tagged let me know!

Taglist:

@southernraven, @deludedfruitcake , @tgskitten , @zaddyhotch , @cm-slvts-31 , @dins-cyarika @midnghtprentiss

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x plus size!reader #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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eddiemunson-fanfic · 11 months

Note

Hey girl hey

I was wondering if I could request a fic idea that's been on my brain for a while?

Either reader and eddie are arguing over something just stupid but eddie just won't let it go and reader just flashes him her boobs to stop the argument and it works lol.

Modern AU where Eddie's at work and reader sends him a naughty snapchat/text to tease him and his brain kinda short circuits and he leave work early 😏

hey giirl! ofcourse you can always make a request, and sorry it took me some time to get back to you! but I tried my best, and hope you like it :') (and i loved both of them, but this will only include the first request, maybe I'll make another one for the second request :'))

Winning the argument.

Eddie Munson x Plus Size!FM!Reader

Warnings: TW (considering the argument), flashing, cursing, nipple play, sort of dom!Eddie, edging denial(?), choking.

Summary: you knew it annoyed Eddie, but you never thought of it as a big deal, but that was until you always ended up in a disagreement with him considering it. You knew he was only looking out for you, but you knew how to make him relax once he was riled up over it.

"God damn it woman, listen to me!" Eddie huffed as he pulled at his own hair, clearly frustrated with you.

"I am listening, I swear!"

"You know I get worried when you never tell me where you're going, and when you disappear for 24 hours without a single heads up? What the fuck do you think I would be doing? Not worry?!" he was getting more and more agitated by the second, and you flinched slightly when his voice got a bit louder than usual.

He was pacing back and forth, struggling to find the words to describe what he was feeling at that moment.

"Can you please just stop being so dramatic?" you huffed, which made Eddie stop dead in his tracks, glaring at you as he did.

"Oh, dramatic?! Dramatic?!" he practically screamed into your face, his hot breath hitting your face by how hard he was talking, making you jump just slightly.

"Excuse me for wanting to know and make sure that my god damn girlfriend which I love deeply is safe! I'm so fucking sorry!" he spat at you, rolling his eyes as he got more and more annoyed, pulling and struggling to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he cursed under his breath for struggling to reach it.

"For gods sake! Fuck!" he growled, finally getting the pack out of his pocket and lighting a cigarette as he inhaled and exhaled hard, trying to calm himself down.

You knew you needed to do something to make him relax, and you knew just what to do.

"Babe" you spoke softly.

"What?!" he barked at you, choking on his own spit as he looked at you, his mind going completely blank as you had thrown your shirt up, flashing him your tits.

"Fuck" he practically moaned under his breath, licking his lips hungrily as he focused on your tits as you walked closer to him, his eyes fixated on them as you were almost flush against him.

"I'm sorry baby, I really am" you tried softly, walking closer to him as he stood by the door to his trailer. You took his face in your hands, leaning your forehead against his as his breath fanned over your face.

"I am really sorry"

His arms wrapped around you softly as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I hate when you do that" he chuckled softly, shaking his head softly as he did.

"What? Show you my boobs?" you tried to act as innocent as you possibly could, as one of his hands came up to cup your boob, a huge grin on his face as he licked his lips once more.

"Mhm" he moaned, struggling to breathe steady as he squeezed your boob softly.

"Fuck, I love them so much" he said as he stepped a bit away from you to get a better view of your tits as you got rid of your shirt completely, giving yourself a mental high five as it has worked once more.

"They love you too, baby" you cooed, watching him fall to his knees in front of you as he burried his face in between your boobs, inhaling the scent of you as he placed soft kisses to each before wrapping his arms around you, placing his face between them again, a huge grin across his face as he did.

You let him sit there on his knees for as long as he needed to. You didn't really mind having him like this on his knees in front of you as you played with his hair.

"I love you so so much" he mumbled against your skin as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, making you chuckle at him.

"I love you too, dummy" you giggled, leaning down to place a soft kiss to the top of his head before he lifted his head just slightly to look at you.

"I'm sorry I overreacted"

You felt bad for him straight away, you always did. You knew he just wanted to make sure you were okay, and when he didn't hear from you for over 24 hours, which was mostly the case when you ended up arguing like this, you wished for nothing but to teach yourself that you for once in your god damn life was able to pick up the god damn phone and give him a heads up. You were always talking together when you weren't gonna hang out for several hours on the phone, and even if it didn't happen often that you didn't hang out or were hours on end with eachother on the phone, you still felt bad you didn't take time to just give him a little heads up that you were doing okay and he didn't have to worry.

"Baby, don't apologise, please, it's okay"

"Ofcourse it's not okay that I shout at you baby, and don't you ever think it is!" he said a bit shocked, looking up at you between his lashes, his beautiful brown eyes melting you to the damn core.

"I won't, sorry!" you said, giving him a soft smile, noticing how he relaxed in your embrace as you kept on playing with his hair, something you knew he loved.

"But these" he smiled mischievously as he cupped both your tits, bouncing them in his hands for a bit before he wrapped his lips around your nipple as he played with the other, earning a soft moan from you as you pulled at his hair, your eyes rolling back.

"Fuck" you whimpered, loving the feeling of his tongue circling around your nipple, the gentle bites and the feeling of his lips around it as he sucked harshly before letting go of the nipple with a pop to focus on the other, giving the exact same attention to it as he did with the first.

"Babe" you moaned, pulling at his hair, earning a moan from him in response, as he bit down on your nipple softly, sending a pleasurable sensation through your entire body.

"Mhm" he moaned in response, batting his eyelashes at you as he continued his delicious torture with your nipples. Pinching the one he didn't have in his mouth between his fingers, circling soft circles around it, making your knees weak from his torture.

"Eddie, please"

He just chuckled in response, letting go of your nipple with a pop as he looked up at you with a huge grin, batting his lashes at you as he tried to act as innocent as he possibly could, still torturing your nipples by pinching them between his fingers.

"What, princess? Too much?"

He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how sensitive your nipples were. You couldn't answer him, but just whimpered and gasped as he pinched your nipples and rolled them around between his fingers.

"I can see you're getting needy baby" he cooed, smirking at you as he watched how you tried to rub your legs together to create some sort of friction.

"But I didn't allow you to do anything about it, did I now?" he smirked, making you whimper as the grin he had over his face grew.

"Answer me" he demanded as he flicked your nipples, making you hiss slightly in pain.

"No"

"No, what?" he smirked.

"No, master"

His eyes rolled back as he bit down on his lip, getting aroused more by the second, especially by the nickname you called him.

"There she is" he cooed, as he stood face to face with you again, pushing you softly against the wall, a hand wrapping around your neck softly, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he placed his knee between your leg, rubbing against your clothed core.

"You do as your told, isn't that right?"

You whimpered in response, but he didn't let it slide, squeezing your neck a bit tighter, making you moan, his knee pushing a bit harder against your clothed pussy.

"You're already soaked baby" he cooed, his eyes sparkling in the light, and you could see the lust grow in his eyes.

"Fuck Eddie"

Another squeeze to your neck.

"That's not my name honey"

"Sorry master" you whimpered.

He placed a soft kiss to your lips, biting down on your lower lip, making you moan in response before he let go of you completely, making you huff in annoyance.

"I have to get back to you after band practice, but don't do anything until I get back, or else" he warned, making you nod, but wanting nothing more but to pull him against you again, devouring him completely.

He pecked your lips once more before opening the door and winking at you.

"Love you"

Taglist: @eddiemunsonfuxks, @jadeylovesmarvelxo, @anaisweird, @marsmunson86, @eddiethesexy, @readsalot73, @warmaidensrevenge, @sherrylyn628, @sammararaven, @sllooney, @salenorona23, @screaming-blue-bagel, @sheenastark22, @lil-quinnie, @erinsingalong, @emsgoodthinkin

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sunflower-lilac42 · 8 months

Text

✧ 𝟖 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 | sturniolo triplets ♔

summary: travel through time with y/n sturniolo as she recalls moments through her life in the past four/five years.

warnings: sad, being lonely, crying

notes: part of the 'behind the lens' series. sorry if it's a little bit repetitive. not proofread so sorry about any mistakes!

series masterlist | celebrities masterlist | main masterlist

‘There are eight billion people in the world But not a single one who understands’

Sitting in her car, y/n gazed at the car that sat a few stalls down. She always wanted to make sure the boys were safe when making their videos, despite knowing that they would be okay. Anything could happen to them, and the thought alone terrified her.

No one seemed to understand the girl’s worry. They always told her that the trio would be fine, that they wouldn't always need their big sister to look after them. She knew that, but after many nights away at college, she just wanted to spend more time with them. So if she had to spend one of her nights home in a parking lot just watching movies or listening to music in her car by herself while her brothers made videos, she would do it.

The boys reassured her before they went out that night, but she shrugged and claimed she had nothing else to do that night. When she had started coming home once every month it was because the boys had missed her and would’ve called her practically every day to ask for help or advice on something. They had finally convinced her to make her monthly visits and it’s been that way ever since. She started to realize that while her visits were mostly for their comfort, she had realized that it also comforted her.

When they were seniors, they told her she didn’t have to come home to visit anymore, but it was hard for her to stop, it was her routine. And unbeknownst to them, it brought her comfort. They didn’t think much about it, and just let her continue. No one questioned it for the last two years she was in college, and it was never brought up again.

‘I might as well be the only living girl Wanna be happy but I feel embarrassed to say that I'm lonely’

It was a Friday night, none of her roommates had classes, and neither did she. They hadn’t explicitly invited her out with them but the three of them, and her, knew the invitation was implied when they brought it up in a conversation.

Not wanting to worry her mom about fitting in, y/n had told the family that she was going out and she wouldn’t be responding to any texts or calls. And on that Friday night, she just curled up in her bed watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier, ignoring all the texts from her family and friends.

Right before she was going to go make dinner, she picked up her phone to see a text from Nick, wishing her a good night out with her friends. She let a tear slip down her face as she placed her phone back under her pillow and shoved her head into her knees, forgetting all about the dinner she was going to eat.

‘Imagine someone caring for me every day and night But now I don't have anyone to ask if I'm alright’

A year after she graduated, she was living with her family as she made enough money to go and buy her own apartment of some sort. She was working on the couch in the living room as music played through her earbuds.

She wasn’t expecting the abrupt entrance of the boys, coming back from whatever they were doing, since she flinched when they came barreling into the living room corridor, laughing their asses off. She was about to say something to them, when they all went into their separate rooms after saying goodnight to them, not even noticing their sister a few feet away.

Her eyes glassed over but no tears fell as she went back to working on her project for work.

‘Stop saying I'm pretty Cause pretty girls don't spend Friday nights alone in the kitchen’

The boys and her parents were once again out doing something. The boys were probably filming a video somewhere and her parents went out to eat for a date night.

She opted to stay home, not wanting to impose on their evenings. She sat in the kitchen watching something on her laptop as she made some dinner. This is what most evenings were like now. She would be in the kitchen, by herself, as her parents were most likely asleep or getting ready for bed in their bedrooms and her brothers were goofing off or doing some individual work in their bedrooms.

She hadn’t made any effort to hang out with them in a while, claiming she was busy with work when in reality she was just mentally and emotionally drained from the day's events at work. So she sat by herself in the kitchen her mind drifting off into oblivion.

‘Stop saying I'm funny Cause funny girls don't lock themselves in a room to cry’

It was a couple of days after they posted Chris and Matt surprising Nick after he came home, and some of the comments were unreal. While many of the triplet’s fans loved Y/n and her big sister qualities and whenever she was in videos, a fair amount of them weren’t. They often claimed that she was too controlling and ‘possessive’ of the three.

Many of the comments referred to her absence to Nick’s arrival. Some said that it was rude of her to not show up, and some were relieved that she wasn’t there. Some even went as far as saying that the triplets were happy that she wasn’t there. In reality, y/n was at work despite her efforts on trying to get the day off to spend with her brothers after not seeing them for quite some time.

She had walked out of her room at her parents house as she was visiting for the weekend once more for her birthday. She was going to get one of the leftover cupcakes from last night when she heard the trio talking.

They were talking about the comments left on the video about their sister. She wasn’t standing there long enough to hear them defend her and call them crazy. She had walked back to her room closing the door before sliding her back against it, tears falling down her face as she placed her hands over her eyes.

‘Doesn't matter how many friends I have Cause truth is, I'll sit down at 12 a.m. and the only face i see is me’

It was a late night in y/n’s dorm as she snacked on some chips, attempting not to get crumbs all over her bed yet failing miserably. She was watching the triplets new video and she noticed how happy they looked together. All she could think about was being home with them. She watched her reflection on her TV, nothing but silence filled her room.

‘If only eight billion people could help a bit’

“Why is she so controlling? The boys are just joking and having fun like they always do. Leave them alone, jeez”

‘Tryna cope with all the insecurities Seeing my friends having the best lives don't make me feel better��

It was her roommate's birthday and she and her close friends went out to eat. Y/n had some homework to finish up despite wanting to go out with them, she couldn’t really push the assignment off any more than she had done.

She was taking a break after staring at the same screen for way too long. She walked around her apartment getting some exercise in as she looked at her Instagram feed. The top post was of her friends celebrating by the lake and having the time of their lives. She sniffled a little but didn’t let it get to her that much.

She was just doing homework, it’s not like they didn’t invite her.

‘Imagine someone caring for me every day and night But now I don't have anyone to ask if I'm alright’

One night Chris had called her in an attempt to do his homework. He was trying to get the wording right but to no avail, he couldn’t. So he resorted to calling his older sister, in a seek for help.

Y/n spent an hour helping him with his essay before he finally finished. As soon as he ways done he said a quick goodbye and hung up, leaving her alone with her thoughts. There wasn’t any extra conversation between the two.

‘Stop saying I'm pretty Cause pretty girls don't spend Friday nights alone in the kitchen’

Y/n was done with her junior year of college when the boys graduated. It was almost near one in the morning as she finished making her brothers their graduation gifts. It wasn’t truly anything special to anyone else but to her it was a lot.

She should’ve been out with her friends like most people her age were on a Friday night but she opted that it was more important to finish the gifts and the cards. She tore her eyes away from the paper to the picture frame of the triplets not too far away from her and smiled. She was proud of the boys, and that was all that really mattered to her at that given moment in time.

‘Stop saying I'm funny Cause funny girls don't lock themselves in a room to cry’

She could hear her brothers laughing from the kitchen as they attempted to direct each other in making a cake, or whatever it was they were baking. She was annoyed at them for being too loud but she couldn’t blame them, they were having fun.

She attempted to drain out the noise with her own sounds but she couldn’t. She slipped on her noise-canceling headphones, sitting there with her own thoughts.

‘Doesn't matter how many friends I have Cause truth is, I'll sit down at 12 a.m. and the only face I see is me’

The boys had asked her one of the nights before if she wanted to be in a car video and she said sure. She changed her mind as soon as they started filming, however.

She didn’t participate much in the conversation and rather just listen to them talk about utter nonsense pretty much for the next half hour to an hour. She curled herself into a ball and looked out the window, her hood up and covering the majority of her face.

She knew there would be some comments about her being clingy and having to be with them 24/7, but she drowned those thoughts out and stared at her reflection as if it were a normal occurrence these days.

‘If only eight billion people could help a bit’

“Does anybody else notice how reserved and nervous the boys seem around, y/n? They’re almost uncomfortable, it’s a little alarming.”

‘Crowded parties, busy streets Hanging with my friends Fireworks on New Year's Eve But I still feel so lonely’

Fireworks had never been y/n’s favorite thing in the world. So most times when it was Fourth of July or New Year's Eve she would have her earbuds in, listening to a movie or podcast with her noise-canceling ones on top to drown out the extra noise.

Her family was out watching fireworks somewhere after y/n encouraged them to go out. To them she didn’t care, it was just a normal occurrence in her daily life. But she was struggling more than she could even imagine she was. She didn’t want to tell anyone so she just suffered in silence and comfort in her own bedroom.

‘Long drives in his Benz, watching sunsets Seeming like it's perfect Family time on the weekends But I still feel so lonely’

It was another monthly visit, early on in her college years as they watched a movie in the living room. The boys laughed at one another’s jokes as they accidentally ignored y/n’s attempts to join the conversation. So she sat alone on one side of the couch, ignoring them.

‘But I still feel so lonely’

She and her brothers were sitting out at a restaurant when all of a sudden Nick noticed he was being filmed. The three let out laughs as they made jokes and making sure not to get their sister on camera as they knew she hated being filmed.

Chris handed the phone to Nick as he attempted to show the audience his new shorts. Y/n let out a little laugh at her brothers antics but went back to being silent just like always.

‘Stop saying I'm pretty Cause pretty girls don't spend Friday nights alone in the kitchen’

The boys had left their left over cake for y/n and when they all went to bed she ate it in silence except for her podcast playing in the kitchen. No thoughts ran through her head as she ate.

‘Stop saying I'm funny Cause funny girls don't lock themselves in a room to cry’

She had just gotten off the phone with her mom after assuring her that she was indeed alright. Her mom knew better than she thought she did but let her be for the night. This would’ve seemed like normal behavior for anyone else but to her mom, there was something seriously going on with her daughter.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what ehr daughter was doing right now, but if she did know it’d make her cry.

‘Doesn't matter how many friends I have Cause truth is, I'll sit down at 12 a.m. and the only face I see is me’

She stared out of the window of her kitchen in her dorm seeing her reflection against the apartments across the street. She was making food as her late-night cravings for ramen hit her. Her roommates were already in their rooms but most likely not asleep.

‘If only eight billion people could help a bit’

“She’s honestly so clingy. She’s holding them back. Like omg, they’re not going to be kids forever. I mean I feel bad for the boys, having to deal with her all the time. They’re probably super excited when she goes back to college.”

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets x you #series #behindthelens #sunnylunebehindthelens #sunny lune writes #sister #sister!reader

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heartbreakgrill · 8 months

Text

stiles stilinksi: breakable heaven; part 5, “i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you.”

a/n: enjoy this bc it’s gonna be sad boi hours in the next part ;)

tagging: @ariianelle

the world shifted, just a little bit.

stiles and y/n found themselves spending a lot more time together. granted, that time was often under the sheets, in a locked car, or- just once- in the locker room after a game. nonetheless, the skin on skin contact always led to conversations, conversations that were deepening in content. they were getting to know each other, forming an attachment both swore would never even exist.

as the time passed, they each found solace in one another, a comfort, a sort of destressor that neither was able to substitute with anyone or anything else. neither were aware of this, but it was as present as the air.

y/n's parents were always out of town, and, while she didn’t have any doubts that they loved and supported her, they were absentee. they missed out on the everyday moments in her life. so, she was usually all by herself through it all. sure, danny came over every once and while, but there were still those periods of time where she was left, literally in the middle of nowhere, all alone. stiles was a warm body to sit next to, an attentive ear to listen to her troubles or woes, without judgement or expectations. he was just there. whenever she needed or wanted.

and, for stiles, y/n was just a human being. she didn't have claws, fangs, premonitions about his friends' deaths, or any other intense, supernatural features. this fact he was positive of since he’d had both scott and derek invade and smell her locker to ensure she was really a living, breathing, human girl.

with all he had to deal with, every single day, he was grateful to get to act like a normal teenage boy some days out of the week. laughing instead of fighting for his life, watching movies instead of drawing up investigation boards.

today was one of those bad days, for the both of them. a bad day where they just needed each other.

the number of killings in beacon hills was rising, rapidly, day by grueling day. and there wasn’t much stiles could do to help. he could ramble, on and on, about the mindless theories rattling around inside his head. he could tag along to random warehouses and parking lots, only to hide away once the real conflict began.

but, he was overall useless to the entire process.

it made his shoulders a little heavier some days, to know he had no control over anything anymore. scott could take away pain, lydia could help save somebody before they died, allison could shoot down three different wolves with the same arrow.

stiles could only talk.

today was one of those days where he just felt kind of shitty about it all.

dr. deaton was missing. and there wasn’t much of anything stiles could do to help. he felt like he always just got in the way.

y/n was in a similar boat.

her parents were out of town for the third week now. they’d promised to be home this past weekend, and had talked y/n up with a week full of dinners, family outings, a visit to her school, normal things that parents normally did with their normal children. of course, they’d cancelled on her last minute because of some conference across the world. she’d asked danny to come stay for the week, but he said he couldn’t. he was going out of town with ethan.

she felt abandoned.

usually, y/n would sulk, by herself, with take out, a round of depressing movies, and homework she didn’t really feel like doing. sometimes, she’d even beg her boss to let her come in for a shift.

but, it was saturday evening, so the staffing was already full for the rest of the night.

so, she texted stiles.

y/n: pls tell me ur bored

stiles: what time?

y/n: anytime :)

stiles: omw gorgeous

–

“alright, i’ve got it.”

stiles plopped down onto the couch beside y/n, bowl of popcorn in left hand, a can of dr. pepper in the right. he crossed his ankles and stretched his legs onto the coffee table. y/n sat criss-cross beside him and extended part of the blanket she wore onto his lap. stiles set the bowl down atop his covered thighs.

“oh, yeah, what’s that?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

y/n pointed to the television, and he followed her gaze. netflix was open on the bright screen, with a movie queued up. “the first scream.”

stiles nodded appreciatively, until she added, “aka, the best slasher film of all time.”

he squinted his face and shook his head rapidly, “i cannot believe you just said that!”

y/n giggled at his expression, “don’t even argue with me right now!”

“it’s hard not to argue with someone who is so blatantly wrong!” he replied.

y/n stole the popcorn from his lap, “thats not even a good counter. at least make a decent rebuttal!”

“okay,” he peered over at her with a matter-of-fact look, “halloween is the best slasher because;” he counted each point off on his fingers, it has a cooler villain, better kill sequences, and the hottest final girl.”

y/n rolled her eyes, and shoved his shoulder with her own, “you just like it cause of jamie lee curtis’ boob scene.”

stiles pursed his lips, “they are pretty great.”

“but they didn’t need to add nudity to that movie! that’s so sexist and gross to support that idea, you pig.”

stiles stole a handful of popcorn, shoveling it into his mouth. “what can i say, im a boob guy.”

if she didn’t know him so well, she’d think stiles, in this moment, was kinda gross. but, she recognized his humor better than most. she appreciated that it was sarcasm. and, he kinda looked cute with his cheeks full of popcorn.

y/n blushed at the comment, looking down slightly, “oh, i know.” boy, did she.

he tapped the edge of the bowl, garnering her attention again, “don’t do that.”

her brows furrowed, meeting his eyes, “do what?”

“don’t be dirty. i don’t think we’ll make it through the movie if you start acting up.” as his words drifted out, stiles’ tone of voice lowered. he leaned his head closer to hers and the corner of his lips turned up in a devilish smirk.

y/n grinned in response. she grabbed the back of his neck, smashing her lips into his, drawing a sharp breath off his tongue. stiles moaned into her, barely catching the popcorn before it could spill. his other hand clutched his dr. pepper, so he didn’t have much leverage against her advances.

stiles clambered around until he found the coffee table, shoving the popcorn bowl atop it. “wait, wait, wait-“ stiles gently grabbed her biceps, tugging her off of him delicately.

y/n’s face fell instantly. she cowered away, hugging herself with her arms. she thought that was what he wanted, but now it seemed he was mad. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry- i didn’t-“

“no, no, no,” stiles set a wary hand between them. “you didn’t do anything wrong. you’re okay, it’s okay.”

“i’m sorry,” she slouched, frowning. she relaxed a little bit, but the moment still worried her. “i thought that’s what you wanted?”

stiles shook his head and grabbed her hand, holding it between his like a prayer. “no, no- i mean- yes. i want you, i always- want you. but, i don’t- i don’t want you to feel pressured to do that all the time. i want to watch a movie with you. i like just hanging out, too. i don’t just expect sex out of you. that’s not all this is-“

stiles pressed his lips together. he always said too much.

always said too much.

y/n let out a breath she had been holding at the top of her chest. her mind raced with a thousand words she didn’t how to say.

this changed everything. the rules were blurred. the lines were crossed.

and it now seemed that, maybe, just maybe, he wanted her like she wanted him.

all she could say was, “okay.”

she didn’t want to rush things. she didn’t want to force him to label it. she didn’t want to get in over her head, throw her hopes up, and get let down again.

stiles’ worried expression fell into a gentle smile, “okay, hey, i’ll even let you think scream is the best slasher film, just for the night.”

an easy giggle fell out of her. “deal.”

stiles fixed the blanket across their laps that had fallen off slightly, while y/n tucked her legs up onto the seat, cozy against the back of the couch.

he stretched an arm across the back of her seat, inching over to her slyly. y/n bit back a smile and leaned into his side. stiles choked back a cough, a strangled attempt to clear his throat. he set his arm around her, fingers lingering over her shoulder.

the movie started.

it took them a few minutes to loosen after that moment. but, eventually, they fell back into their same routine- stiles made lame jokes, y/n nearly fell over laughing at all of them. he compared scream to halloween, calling out which parts would probably be better with a michael myers killer instead of ghost face. she argued back that he was a sore loser.

eventually, the movie was drawing to a close. the credit scene was just about to roll across the television screen when y/n’s phone started ringing from the coffee table. she jumped slightly, a little spooked from the movie, though she’d seen it a million times.

stiles tossed his head back, laughing over her fright. she shot him a dirty look as she reached for her phone. he took his arm off of her, but patted her thigh in a mocking manner. “don’t worry, i’ll protect you.”

y/n shoved his arm playfully, but her attention was drawn away by the contact showing up on her screen. ethan was calling her.

“give me a second,” she mumbled, leaving the room with confusion written all over face.

stiles watched her go, sitting forward on the couch. her distant tone worried him a moment. he pulled out his own phone, hoping for something from scott. updates, suspects, something. hoping the plague wasn’t going to reach her, too.

his screen was black.

stiles wanted to tell her about everything. maybe he should. it would explain his erratic, anxious, flakey behavior.

but, telling her would bring her into it.

and he didn’t know how well he could protect her.

so, the secret was just his for now.

stiles opened scott’s contact, ready to give him a quick call, just in case, when y/n reentered the room. “hey, everything okay?” he barely glanced up at her, but had to do a double take when he noticed how she looked.

y/n was shaking, visibly, clutching her phone in her right hand, which was still held up near her ear as though she was about to answer the phone again. a few tears escaped her eyes, and her pupils were dilated with fear and sadness.

“y/n?” stiles stood up, slowly, tone rattled.

had his troubles finally plagued her, too? was the one sacred, peaceful thing he had finally tainted by the cruelty of his reality? a million worried, terrified thoughts sped through his mind.

y/n met his eye, “danny’s in the hospital. he-he almost died. hi-his l-lung collapsed.”

stiles moved quickly. he carefully took her by the waist, guided her into a pair of shoes, into his jeep. he stayed attentive to her the entire car ride. he played her taylor swift, nearly sat at a 180° angle while he drove, kept a firm hand on her thigh, and spoke to her in a soothing tone. y/n was nearly mute. she didn’t know what to say or what to do. she was just too stunned.

it was always shocking to discover that death could just come knocking on the door whenever it felt like it.

when they finally reached the hospital, stiles opened the car door for her. she grabbed onto his hand, following him into the building.

no one was allowed to visit with danny, at least not until the morning. unfortunately, his parents were out of town, like y/n’s, and couldn’t get back until monday. so y/n and ethan were all danny had until then.

“so, he’s gonna be okay?” stiles scratched the back of his neck nervously, knee bouncing.

y/n sat beside him in a waiting room chair, clutching his other hand till her knuckles were white. they stared up at melissa, awaiting her answer.

melissa returned their stare them with a kind smile, “he’s gonna be just fine. we’re gonna keep him overnight, just to monitor him. but, he’ll be alright.”

y/n took a deep breath. her head fell back against the wall, eyes squeezing shut in relief. melissa nodded once, reassuring them again, before turning to leave. she squeezed stiles’ shoulder as she went.

stiles turned his body to y/n, taking her hand in both of his. she finally met his eye. he was glad to see hers, the storm within them more weathered now, calmer like the water right after a wave. he smiled slightly.

“hey,” he whispered.

y/n finally smiled back. “hey. i’m…sorry if i freaked you out. i don’t do well with near-death experiences. i’m kind of a pussy.”

she laughed at herself, head dropping down in shane. stiles disagreed quickly, “no, no, hey,” he pushed the hair from y/n’s cheek, cupped her face, guided her eyes back to his, “you’re not a pussy. you’re a human being. you were scared and worried for your friend. i’m not judging for how you reacted. i just want to know you’re okay.”

she nodded, “i’m okay. just- tired, now. that was overwhelming. sitting here for an hour, waiting to hear if my best friend was dead or not.”

stiles brushed his thumb over her cheek, “i know, baby, i know.”

the word slipped so easily off his tongue, that he didn’t notice. y/n did, but she wouldn’t allow herself to get bent out shape over it. there was no time for that right now.

“i’m gonna stay here with him tonight.”

stiles moved his hand back to their entwined ones, “i’ll wait with you.”

y/n shook her head in disagreement, “i can’t ask that-“

“you didn’t ask,” he interrupted her, pointedly.

y/n went to say something else when scott disrupted their moment. he came out of danny’s room, nearly appearing out of thin air. stiles could tell he was on edge.

“stiles, hey, i was just about to call you,” he said, glancing between the both of them. “sorry about danny, y/n.”

“thanks,” she smiled slightly, though she was confused. “how did you get in to see-“

“stiles,” scott pretended to not hear her, turning his attention to his friend, “we need to talk.”

stiles patted y/n’s hand gently, “i’ll be right back, okay?”

he stood to leave her, but she didn’t let go of his hand. she held on until he was too far to reach. before he followed scott down the hall, however, he turned back, shrugging off his jacket.

“i know you’re gonna need this,” he murmured, tucking it around her shoulders.

y/n watched him walk away with scott, a dazed smile on her face.

things might be working out.

–

stiles had to leave. at least, scott needed stiles to leave. derek, isaac, boyd, and cora were planning a trap or something of the sort, and they needed to go help them. stiles needed to go help his friends.

but he didn’t want to.

for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to help. he wanted to stay here, in the hospital, with her. he wanted to hold her hand, sleep in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, until the second they could visit danny. until the sun shone on her beautiful face.

stiles didn’t want to stand on the sidelines while his friends blood splattered across the walls around him. he especially didn’t want to watch somebody die tonight.

but, he didn’t protest when scott ushered him out of the building.

he had to do what he always had to do. it was expected. necessary.

like a sacrifice.

–

y/n tucked danny’s sheets around his chin like a mother would, before standing back to look at her work, proudly.

“you’re clinically insane,” he glared at her. the eye bags drearing his face were more prominent in the lighting coming from the lamp on his bedside table. y/n frowned deeply at the sight of him, so tired, nearly lifeless before her.

“you’re my little baby,” she cooed, sitting down beside him on the bed. it took everything in her not to squeeze his cheeks.

“i am a man,” he denied her.

y/n waved him off, “whatever helps you sleep. listen-“ she stood up, collecting her phone and keys off his bedside table, “i will be right down the hall. do not even hesitate to ask me for anything. water, a hug, maybe some cuddles-“

“go to sleep. you look like a walking corpse.”

y/n felt like one. they’d just gotten home the hospital, and it was 8pm on sunday. the waiting room chair had been uncomfortable, and she had felt a little off with the absence of stiles’ warm hands and soft words. so, she didn’t sleep very well. plus, sitting beside danny’s bed all day while they ran tests just added to the tired stress she was feeling.

but, the solace of his smell on his hoodie, and his sporadic text messages, got her through it all. he checked in once an hour, every hour. his phrasing was short, though, and he didn’t reply very quickly. but, stiles was still there. he was there for her.

now, y/n felt like she was going to collapse. so, she softly shut danny’s door behind her and headed for the guest room. it was right next door. she was too scared to leave him alone, so she was going to stay until his parents got home tomorrow night. she was even skipping school to look after him. ethan was going to stop by in the morning, today, he, apparently, had been caught up with something.

she didn’t really trust him. but that was a problem for another day.

y/n slipped out of her fresh pajama bottoms to get ready for bed because it was usually pretty warm in danny’s house. though she kept stiles’ hoodie on.

that morning, at the hospital, nurse mccall had delivered y/n’s book bag, packed neatly with a few essentials, like pjs, her toothbrush, her phone charger, to danny’s room.

stiles had gone out of his way to ensure she had her things how he’d gotten into her house? she didn’t know, and she didn’t really want to question it. she was just grateful he thought of her at all.

y/n shut the light off and got comfy under the covers. just as she went to shut off her phone, a phone call came through.

stiles.

“hello?” she whispered, voice too tired to speak too loud. y/n lay her head upon the pillow, shoving the phone between her ear and it. she felt her eyes closing.

“hey.”

the sound of his voice brought her so much comfort. the exhaustion was takning over now.

“how are you doing?” was the first thing he asked.

y/n smiled, which was visible through her words as she spoke, “better now.”

“oh, yeah?” stiles teased gently. “i was just checking in. was worried about you.”

“i was worried about you,” she emphasized, “is everything okay? nurse mccall said you had to handle something.”

everything was no okay. stiles had watched derek kill boyd just hours ago. luckily, they’d saved dr. deaton, and found a few more clues that would surely lead them to the serial killer rampaging their town.

but his classmate- his friend- was dead. and he watched it all happen. he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

but, e couldn’t tell her that.

though, she noticed a shift in his voice, “yeah, just something stupid. scott was having girl problems.”

y/n didn’t believe him.

she was noticing more and more that he was always disappearing, running off to do stuff that he wouldn’t tell her about. his cover stories never made much sense, either.

the thought that he was keeping secrets from her made y/n feel wary, made her want to pull away.

but, then he’d say something like, “i’m more worried about you, baby.”

and she was easily pulled back in.

“don’t,” she murmured. her eyes fell all the way shut. she was drifting off to sleep, the sound of his voice a sweet lullaby to her ears.

stiles smiled to himself. he imagined holding her in his arms, brushing the hair from her face as he watched her fall into a beautiful slumber. it comforted him.

but, when he focused his mind again, he was back in the cold, dark animal shelter, which was barren of any good feelings like the ones he could only day dream of for now.

he thought about telling her, again. but after what happened today, he wasn’t feeling very confident about it. he really, really could not lose her.

he just couldn’t.

“you should get to sleep,” stiles spoke.

scott motioned for him. so, stiles added, “i have to get going.”

“i miss you.” y/n was half asleep, completely unconscious to any words falling off her tongue.

stiles’ smiled again. “i miss you, too. hey, i’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? maybe we can watch the next scream.”

she didn’t have the energy to respond.

“you there, y/n?”

no response.

stiles figured she was asleep. “well, since you’re not there, i guess i can say…i really like you.”

y/n heard.

and she’d never tell.

she liked him, too.

but, what secrets was he keeping from her?

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