#hey you know what if you see this and you feel like send me some of you guys' fave moments
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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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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 6 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley asks you for your number, you can't believe he wants to spend his phone call on you. Even though you're nervous about asking, you realize you need answers to some of your questions. The promise of getting to hear your voice is enough to get Bradley through the week, but is he going to be enough for you?
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being sexy
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
When you woke up for work and checked your phone, there was a new email waiting for you from Bradley, and you couldn't decide what to do about it. As soon as you'd hit send on that selfie of you in bed, you felt like an idiot. Was he expecting something more than a random picture of you after you'd removed your makeup for the day? Was he going to eventually give up responding at all when he realized that one date with you was ultimately just a waste of his time on his stop back in San Diego?
But he had written back yet again, and you were nervous to see what he had on his mind. You dropped your phone into your purse, making a deal with yourself: you could read his response once you were at work. That would give you enough time to process your thoughts on the matter. You were being silly for wanting more and expecting more with every interaction. This man owed you nothing. You were probably in over your head with the mutual daydreaming and flirtation.
What were you going to do when it was easy for him to say that talking to you had been fun, but he needed to get back to his real life? What were you going to do when you weren't able to do the same?
Once you were settled at your desk looking at your Natural History notes in those last few minutes of solitude before your eighteen students arrived for the day, you let yourself indulge in Bradley's words.
Hey, Gorgeous,
You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...
It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?
Yours Truly,
Bradley
"Oh my god." You forced yourself to read it slower the second time around. He was thinking about you in his bed! He wanted your phone number! "What are you doing to me?" you groaned.
He wanted to call you. This man wanted to use his phone call allowance on you. He wanted to let you hear his deep, raspy voice over the phone while he spoke sentences that were tailor made for you. He expected you to be able to respond to him in real time? You were embarrassed to admit that it often took you hours or days to figure out how to reply to one of his emails after he set the butterflies off in your belly.
You did not know what you should do here, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. It was going to be impossible to pull yourself back out of this mess when the time came.
---------------------------
Before Bradley got a response to his email asking for your phone number, he got a box from your class. He could certainly get used to waiting in line when the mail arrived to find himself smiling with satisfaction instead of feeling disappointment. When he got back to his bunk and opened it, he rooted through all of the drawings of F/A-18s in search of the note from you. He smiled at the more businesslike greeting, knowing how many personal topics you and he had covered through email.
Dear Lt Bradshaw,
It seems as though we can't get enough of you. We're back, hoping for a little more of your time. Here's a batch of drawings for you to judge in any manner you see fit, but please be kind... I drew one of them.
Whether it's a handwritten note or an email, I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon.
Just looking at your tidy penmanship had Bradley antsy to check his email again. He had put himself out there as far as he could at the moment when he asked you for your phone number, but now he was nervous as hell. What was he supposed to do if you told him no? He'd already planned out not only a first date but a second date as well. He could wait you out. Unless you outright shut him down, he would take his time, making sure you were comfortable.
Upon inspection of the Super Hornet drawings, it was easy enough to determine which one was yours. It was clearly crafted with a steadier hand than the others, and even the block printing on the side of the aircraft where you'd written 'BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW' looked like your penmanship. He looked through the other ones, quickly making the assumption that the one with flames and dragon scales had been drawn by Oliver. The one with purple outlining was most likely from Violet. Something was telling him the one with a dog piloting the jet was drawn by Jayden.
He smiled at how connected to these kids he felt, but ultimately he tossed everything back into the box and started heading for the lounge. If you had responded to him with your phone number, he could get himself on the call schedule. His heart was racing, and his skin felt too warm as he logged into his email account. He had three new messages.
"Come on," he groaned when he was met with two names above yours in his inbox. Nat and Vanessa. He almost forgot about the fucking water bottle.
He tapped on the email from his best friend first.
Rooster, I need you to make better choices regarding your girlfriends, okay? I took care of it, but it wasn't pretty. Her pink monstrosity of a water bottle was in your kitchen cabinet, and then she tried to have a conversation with me. Sorry, but I called her a flaming bitch who never appreciated my best friend and said she needed to leave your house before I made her. Everything is locked up tight again to keep the rats out. When you get home, there's a new restaurant you can treat me to on Rendova Road. -Nat
He smiled as he tapped on the email from Vanessa which was exactly one sentence long.
I got my water bottle from your house.
"God bless Natasha Trace," he muttered, deleting Vanessa's email. Then he went ahead and deleted every email he had ever received from her. He shouldn't have been surprised that you and he had already exchanged more emails than he ever had with a woman he'd dated for several months. It didn't take long before they were all gone, and then he was left with the newest one you'd sent to him last night sitting at the top of his inbox.
"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his palm nervously on his pants before opening up your message to see what you had to say in response to his bold request for your phone number.
Bradley,
I read your last email an embarrassing number of times, trying to be sure I understood it properly. You want to use your phone call allotment on ME? And you were thinking about ME snuggled up in your bed? There's no possible way you could sound like an idiot. Not with that voice that I think about when I'm trying to fall asleep at night.
You know what, I don't even care if I misinterpreted something. Of course I'll let you have my phone number. Of course I'll let you call me.
Your giddy pen pal
Right there below your parting words was your full phone number complete with San Diego area code. Bradley smiled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and wrote it down. He double and triple checked that he had it correct, knowing his next mission would be to get approved for a specific time slot and hope it wasn't going to be at a horrible time of day for you in California. Then he wrote back to your email.
Gorgeous,
You shouldn't sound so surprised. This thing we've got going on isn't open to interpretation on my end. I told you I have a thing for you. I believed you when you said you were interested in getting to know me. There's nobody else I'd rather spend my twenty minute phone call on than you. In fact, you're the only one.
I already memorized your number. I'll email you back when I know which day I can call you and at what time. I can't wait to hear your voice saying my name.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
He logged out and did some quick math to take into account the difference between time zones, and then he was all smiles as he signed up for the opportunity to finally talk to you in real time.
------------------------------
You read his email again as the hours slowly ticked away on Saturday afternoon. Your friends were asking why you kept checking your phone while you were out to dinner. Well, they would be doing the same thing if Bradley Bradshaw was in their email inboxes sounding sweeter than any man had the right to.
Hey, Gorgeous,
How does 10:00 on Saturday night sound to you? I know it's a little late, but I didn't want to potentially interfere with your work week. And I don't know if I can wait until next week anyway. I'm feeling greedy right now when it comes to you. I can't wait to make a fool of myself on the phone.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
When you let him know in the calmest fashion you could muster that Saturday night was just fine for a phone call, he wrote back one additional sentence.
Talk to you then, Gorgeous Girl.
You received that email on Friday morning, and in an effort to seem less desperate for this man than you were, you didn't write back. It was better to let his anticipation grow to match your own. But once you'd parted ways with your friends and headed home for the night, your nerves settled in. You were going to have to ask Bradley where he lived, and that would be that. You'd know all the facts soon enough, and that would pretty much become the determining factor on how long the two of you could really keep this up.
It was almost time. You made sure your phone was fully charged, and you had your ringtone volume turned way up. Barring some sort of disaster, your phone should be ringing in exactly fifteen minutes.
"Chill out," you whispered as you walked a few laps around your apartment in your favorite underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. At 9:56 you paused in your bedroom doorway, convinced Bradley wasn't even going to call. And at 10:02, you sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand, wondering how you managed to get yourself in this deep.
He was in the Navy. Things ran on precision. It was 10:04, and your phone was sitting there on your palm like a dead brick. "It's okay," you told yourself. "Maybe he'll still call." For a few minutes, you thought that being hopeful was the way to go. Perhaps he dialed the wrong number the first time and was just regrouping. Or perhaps not.
At 10:11, you set your phone on your nightstand and walked out into your living room without it. That was when you realized that the lighter-than-air tingling sensation you'd been enjoying all day was gone, replaced with something uncomfortable.
"Don't even think about crying," you whispered as you pulled the hem of your sweatshirt a little further down your legs. You'd normally be drinking a cup of tea and getting settled in to try to go to sleep. A few months ago, you might have even been scrolling through a dating app right now. But you didn't want to do either of those things when you'd essentially been promised something as exciting as Bradley Bradshaw's voice for twenty minutes straight. "Fuck."
Just as you dragged your toe along the kitchen tile, trying to decide what to do now, you heard your ringtone. The clock on your microwave told you it was 10:16 as you turned and ran for your bedroom. Your fingers were shaking as you snatched up your phone and read RESTRICTED CALLER on the screen. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it had to be him.
You took a deep breath and sank down onto the floor with your back against the side of your bed, and without any further hesitation, you answered the call as your heart hammered hard in your chest.
"Bradley?"
There was just a short pause, and it sounded like he was smiling when he said, "Hey, Gorgeous."
The lighter-than-air tingling sensation was back as soon as you heard him say two whole words, and you slid slowly down until you were laying on your back on the floor like a boneless mess. "Hi," you sighed, pressing your free hand to your belly to try to calm the butterflies.
You heard him clear his throat softly before he said, "I'm really sorry I'm late calling you. I've been waiting for this all damn weekend." There was an edge to his voice that gave you goosebumps on your legs, and you smiled before you immediately frowned.
"Does this mean we only have four minutes to talk instead of twenty?" you asked him.
"No, I made sure of that," he replied in his deep rasp. "I even got a little bitchy with the guy before me who wouldn't end his call on time. I told him the most gorgeous teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary was waiting for me to call and that I'd be lucky if she still wanted to talk to me now."
You couldn't help but laugh as the tingling sensation made its way to your fingers and toes. "You didn't tell him that!"
"I swear I did," he insisted, his voice on the verge of laughter. "He sends his apologies." He cleared his throat once more before he asked, "Any chance you could say my name again?"
You thought you detected some nervous energy in his voice which was somehow the most flattering thing you'd ever encountered. You closed your eyes and licked your lips, picturing his handsome face as you said, "Bradley."
Now his voice was as breathless as you knew yours was. "Yeah. I really like the way that sounds."
"Bradley," you repeated with a laugh as you rolled up into a little ball on your side with your phone held to your ear.
"Hey, if you want to just say my name for the next eighteen minutes, I'm not going to complain. I was dying to hear your voice, and now I just want more of it."
You had to press your lips together to keep from making an embarrassing sound, but you did manage to say, "Yeah, that's not really going to work for me, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm going to need some back and forth, especially with how much I like your voice. And your face."
He groaned softly, and now you really did make an embarrassing noise before you could clap your free hand over your mouth. "My face is nothing special, Gorgeous," he said. "Yours on the other hand... that's the kind of thing that could get a guy through a long deployment."
You whimpered, and you were sure he could hear it. But you weren't even as embarrassed as you were needy for more. You wanted to know everything about him, and twenty minutes wasn't going to be enough to satisfy you when it came to Bradley. "Let's just say you've had my full attention for months now. And the photos you sent are enough to get a girl through a long school year. Will you tell me how you got your scars?" you asked him. It was something you'd been curious about since the first photo he sent where you could see his face. The one of him standing tall and sexy in front of his jet.
"Oh, hell," he laughed, his voice taking on a self deprecating tone. "I knew I shouldn't have sent that sunset selfie. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be able to see them in the photos or the video. I have a lot."
You scrambled to your knees and then your feet. The last thing you'd meant to do was make him feel badly about himself. "They just make you look hotter," you blurted out. "I've thought about kissing them."
"Shit," he grunted. "Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to know. My social security number? My bank account information?" You laughed and had to bite down on your knuckle as he said, "I got my scars when I was a sophomore at the University of Virginia. Just typical nineteen year old guy bullshit. I was riding my bike back from a party late, and I skipped the curb. Just a lot of stitches."
"Oh," you gasped.
"It's okay," he said quickly. "More superficial than anything. I didn't even miss any of my classes. This is just why I don't usually send selfies like that. But you're already an exception, aren't you?"
He was so sweet, you were afraid the butterflies would never stop. But now you were picturing him going back to a beautiful house in Virginia, and it just made you sad. You paced the length of your room as you said, "I'd still really like to see your face in person."
"That's a done deal, Gorgeous."
You bit your lip, already knowing how you were going to react, but you just needed to have all the facts. "I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"
There was a brief pause before he asked, "What do you mean?"
You tipped your head back and looked at your ceiling as you finally said, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."
But when you heard his next sentence, you let yourself drop down onto your bed with a smile on your face. "Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."
-----------------------------
This was going well. Bradley's whole body was thrumming with anticipation, and your voice was already embedded in his mind. As soon as you mentioned just the thought of your lips on his scarred cheek, he had to stand up for a minute. And when you brought up meeting him when his deployment ended, he was afraid his heart rate might never return to normal.
"I'd still really like to see your face in person," you told him, and all he could think about was Thai food on the beach and kissing your lips.
"That's a done deal, Gorgeous," he replied, satisfied in knowing for sure that it was going to happen now, but your follow up question left him confused.
"I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"
After that? He sat back down in his seat and thought about what would happen after a date or two. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands and lips off you, but somehow he didn't think that's what you were talking about. "What do you mean?"
Your voice took on a softer, maybe sadder quality as you told him, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."
He froze. He hadn't told you where he lived? Had he really never mentioned it once in all the times he wrote out the address to your school in Mira Mesa? His heart was beating erratically now as he pieced together the fact that he was making all of these plans while you were trying to protect yourself, but you kept emailing him and sending him letters anyway. You were showing that you had genuine interest in him while afraid he was going to leave you high and dry after one date? Hell no. Oh, he was falling hard.
"Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."
Your little surprised gasp had him holding his breath. "You do?" you whispered.
"I do," he promised. "Shit, I can't believe I never mentioned it. My house is in Coronado, near the beach in the photo you sent me where you look more flawless than the sunset. I'm so sorry I got so carried away with our emails that I never put it together that you didn't know I'm stationed out of North Island."
You were quiet for a beat, and he wanted to crawl through the phone and reassure you that he had never meant to stress you out. "You live in Coronado?" you asked.
"Yeah, Gorgeous. About thirty minutes away from your school. I mean, there's always traffic, so maybe forty minutes," he told you nervously. "I hope that's not too far for you to deal with?"
"That's nothing, Bradley," you said with a sigh. "That's... absolutely not too far. I thought you potentially lived thousands of miles away, and I was trying to figure out what to do about my feelings. I was so scared to ask you sooner."
Vanessa wouldn't even drive the extra ten minutes to the restaurant he liked, meanwhile you were putting yourself out there for him. He cleared his throat and said, "I already have our first date planned out."
"Tell me. In an abundance of detail."
Bradley's skin tingled with desire as he divulged his daydreams. "I'll drive up and pick you up at your place. You already gave me permission to hold your hand, so that's happening on the ride back to the beach. There's a good Thai place not too far from the bay bridge where we'll stop to pick up dinner. Then when we get to the beach, you'll be surprised and charmed that I packed blankets and a cooler full of beer and a bottle of prosecco. And we can sit on the beach, talking and eating while the sun sets, unless you'd rather sit in the back of my vintage Bronco. And then, when the sky is just starting to turn purple, I'm going to kiss you."
The beat of silence was satisfying before you asked, "You're going to wait until after dinner to do that?" He could practically hear your pout which made him get to his feet again. He only had five more minutes with you right now, and he was going to have to make this count.
"You want me to kiss you before that?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter as your soft laughter met his ears.
"I want you to kiss me as soon as you see me."
"Fuck," he panted. "Then consider that a done deal too, Gorgeous."
"Oh, I like that."
"Yeah?" he asked, watching time slip through his fingers. "You feel more confident now that you know where I live?"
"Yes," you replied softly.
"Good." He closed his eyes as he said, "We only have a little more time right now, Baby. Anything else you want from me?"
You squeaked softly. "Will you email me a gym selfie or two? With a nice closeup of your face?"
He couldn't get over you and the way you made him feel. "Yeah. I'll hit the gym tomorrow for you."
You hummed softly, and he sat down in his chair again, raking his fingers through his hair. God, he felt like a mixed up mess over you after this conversation. Your voice was so fucking sweet as you asked him, "Anything you want from me?"
His plentiful thoughts ranged the full spectrum from innocent to decidedly not as he tugged on his hair and tried to keep himself in check. "Yeah, actually," he said, gravel filling his voice. "You know that inactive dating profile you mentioned before?"
"Yes."
"You should delete the app. There's nothing I know about you that I don't like, and I feel like that trend is going to continue. If you feel the same way, then you don't need the app, Gorgeous."
After a brief pause, your beautiful voice told him, "Okay, Bradley. I'll delete it."
"Fucking aces," he said with a smile. "Where are you right now?"
You laughed softly as he realized he had less than a minute left on this call. "Curled up in my bed with the biggest smile on my face."
"Send me a selfie?"
"Consider it done, Lieutenant. It'll be there when you check your email next."
He leaned back in his chair. There was still so much he wanted to tell you and ask about, but it would have to wait. "Listen, I need to go. But I'm going to work on writing back to your class this week. And I'll get the selfies for you, too. I'll see you in our inboxes?"
That soft laughter was right there again, and he felt like his skin was on fire as you said, "I'll take you any way I can get you, Bradley."
You could have him as many ways as you wanted him. "I can't wait to get back to San Diego."
"I'll be ready when you do."
---------------------------
I'm sweating. He's too much. He's too powerful. Bradley Bradshaw, get home and get your girl some Thai food! Also, Natasha is the friend of the year for taking out the trash. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster fanfiction#rooster imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#roosterforme#yours truly bradley bradshaw
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Mesmerizer is a satire of TikTok, YouTube Shorts, and the rest of the modern short-form vertical video format
A brief thematic analysis.
I'm sure there are countless people already interpreting the imagery and details in this wonderful song & MV, like here and here, so I won't spend too much time retreading that ground. Miku and Teto are dancing. Miku gets hypnotized. Teto signals for help, but gets hypnotized at the end as well.
That part is obvious enough, but that's still pretty surface-level. What is this seemingly hyperspatial horror scenario supposed to mean to us?
While checking to see if anyone before me's already come to the same conclusions as I did and if I should bother not writing this text post at all (lol), I came across udin's great analysis video. She comes to the conclusion that the song tackles themes of disillusionment with reality and the ways we indulge in escapism to relieve ourselves of the pains of the world.
I agree with that reading! From practically the very beginning, we have Miku call to us - the viewer - to push away our true feelings. Teto comes in to peddle a solution, inviting us to surrender and empty our minds - in her words, "pretending to know nothing."
You, the viewer, are a critical character in this masquerade. For nearly the entire video, Miku and Teto's eyes are unfailingly trained on you. Or, well... perhaps they can't actually see you, but they can see a camera, or whatever other aperture the point of view is supposed to be from. And they know they're being watched. (Who else would Teto be sending distress signals to?)
Let's put a pin on that for later.
udin notes very early on that Miku and Teto are, conspicuously, kept in vertical frames - very similar to the video formats of TikTok (and Instagram Reels, and YouTube Shorts, and whatever other clones of the format exist.) You know, just like the animator Caststation's Rabbit Hole fan MV that went viral some months ago.
Hey wouldn't it be crazy if the song's producer, 32ki, released Mesmerizer shorts too haha. Wouldn't that be crazy.
Wow, wild.
These short-term vertical videos are captivating & alluring. If you're reading this, it's more likely than not that you've also found yourself caught up in them at least once, scrolling through the infinite algorithmic slurry and forgetting about the real-life issues you have at hand. Would you say, then, that you felt hypnotized? Mesmerized, even?
And so these two invite us to join their world and focus on the... uh... rectangle.
Their dances are repetitive, following the same loop. Their outfits are distinct, but their choreography isn't. They're copying the same formula, repeating it ad nauseam to the best of their ability.
They're doing a fucking TikTok dance.
Back to the pin I told you about earlier, with Miku and Teto looking at a camera.
Miku sways with the camera, eyes looking directly at it like a swinging pocket watch. She's been looking at it the entire time, after all. We've been seeing her via our screen this entire time, but, again, she doesn't necessarily see us. She's beholden to the camera, which she dances for day after day, caught up in its spell. She's hypnotized by it. Eventually, she breaks.
Teto, on the other hand, resists. For a while, anyway.
Despite her being the one jumping to us with the "solution" at the beginning of the MV, there's very quickly good reason to question how much agency she has in this. She dances for the camera as well, but she doesn't want to. She's signalling for help. She wants out.
Many content creators (as much as I personally loathe the non-specificity and soullessness of the term) have struggled with the adaptation to the short-form video format, and the preference the algorithm has had for these captivating, bite-sized videos. They're catchy, and easily drive up metrics. Practically anyone who's publishing their work via video format online needs to learn to adapt or fall behind, even if that means whittling their content down to fit the frame, the time, and people's shortening attention spans. Sometimes, that means compromising on specificity and completeness... or, in other words, the true representation of a full work.
The song's writer, 32ki, has been releasing songs on YouTube for several years. Their first YouTube Short, however, was posted only a year ago: a short, whittled-down segment of their previous song, CIRCUS PANIC!!!, hoping for it to win the ProsekaNEXT song contest. It was their first song to achieve widespread popularity and hit a million views.
The shorts, however, aren't the "true" versions of the song. The full song just won't fit.
We're being mesmerized as consumers of this endless stream of content, rather than appreciators of music and art. However, that relationship isn't completely symmetrical across the plane that is the 4th wall. Miku and Teto are trapped not by their attention spans, but by a compulsion to project their "truthful acting" and peddle that window into a colorful, problem-free world.
We, as the collective audience, need not dwell on any one thing for too long - we need only swipe, and move on to the next video. However, Miku and Teto are trapped behind the screen for eternity, day after day.
They're the only characters we get to see, of course. There's no evil 3rd voice synth character that's plotting to keep them trapped in there. We can't put a face to whatever force is hypnotizing them and trapping them behind the screen. It's faceless - like the inscrutable algorithms of YouTube recommendations or the TikTok For You page, or the impersonal corporations that develop & maintain those aforementioned apps. Miku and Teto's likenesses, on the other hand, are being exploited and extracted from for their entertainment value, being strung along by that metaphorical hypnotizing force like puppets on a string.
Many people, represented by Miku, enjoy their success on such platforms. It's freeing and liberating to throw oneself wholeheartedly into such an endeavor, of course! Others, represented by Teto, harbor their doubts of the emotional veracity of such a medium, but know they have little choice lest they face destruction... perhaps not literally as a person, but as an idea.
Wouldn't it be easier just to let oneself be swept away by it and give in?
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This might be bad but could you write a Steve Harrington story where he left the reader for nancy after they were secretly dating bc she’s plus sized. Then once he cleans up his act he writes her a letter. I was thinking it could be based on closure by Taylor Swift! Thank you !
Closure
This isn't bad ! I can totally do that. I listened to the song for the first time today so I hope you like this! Also, This is going to be a two part piece. I wanted to give some background context so that's what this first part is about. I'll be working on part 2 soon. I hope you don't mind.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader
Warnings: I'm not a basketball player nor have I ever been a manager. Honestly I've never really been to a basketball game so I'm not sure if this is all super accurate. Pls let me know. Cursing, Use of Y/N, use of the word girl, some self doubt.
Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave cause you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.
*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist
Pt. 2
*****
Teenage love. Powerful. Fast. Fun. Potent.
The first boy I fell in love with was Steve Harrington. How couldn't I have? His perfect hair. Beautiful eyes. His flirty smile.
Every girl liked Steve at one point or another.
Steve and I grew up together in Hawkins. We never had the same classes together, but boy, I knew of Steve. We finally officially met in high school when I became the manager for the Hawkins High Basketball team.
Freshman Year - 1981
" Alright guys, huddle up. " Coach Ryan shouts to the sweaty boys drilling around the gym. " This is our manager. You will treat them with respect, you hear? I want none of that bullshit that went on last year. You got that Seniors? " Coach Ryan sends a pointed look at the upperclassmen. " If I hear of anyone disrespecting our manager, you'll be running on bleachers for the next month. I'm serious. "
What an introduction.
I shift slightly, a little uncomfortable with the gazes of the boys. I send a small smile to the team, trying to calm myself. " Hey, guys. Let me know if you need anything. " I scan the group in front of me. My eyes land on a familiar face on the back row. His friendly smile sends a wave of butterflies fluttering throughout my body. My eyes linger on him for a few seconds before I force myself to look away.
The last thing I need is for him to realize I like him. How awkward.
The coach makes a few more announcements before he dismisses the boys to the locker rooms.
" I needs you to gather up the balls and take them back to the equipment room. " Coach Ryan nods in the direction of the small closet on the other side of the room.
" Sure thing! Anything else? " I ask, reaching down to pick up one of the stray balls.
" Not that I can think of. I'll be in my office if you need me. " Coach Ryan nods a goodbye before heading towards the boys locker room where his office is located.
I look around the gym. Abandoned basketballs lay scattered around the gym. This is going to take a minute.
I pull the metal ball holder behind me as I begin picking everything up.
" Here ya go. " A voice startles me from behind.
I turn to see Steve holding two basketballs under his arms. He sends me a small smile.
" Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. " He sets the basketballs on the top rack.
I smile back at him. " It's all good. I scare easily. "
Steve jogs over to one of the balls a few feet away from us, swiftly picking it up.
" Oh, you don't need to do that. I've got it. It's my job anyway. "
Steve shakes his head, a looks piece of hair falling in front of his face. " I don't mind. It's kinda fucked up you have to clean up our mess. "
I shrug. " I mean, I signed up to do it. "
Steve nods. " Why did you sign up to be a manager? "
" Honestly, to get out of class. " I feel heat begin to spread over my face at the sound of Steve's laugh. " I hate biology. "
" Whaddya mean? Mr. Jackson's a world-class comedian. You're telling me you don't like his cell jokes? " Steve grins.
I cringe, memories of Mr. Jackson's awkward dad jokes and the silence following filling my mind. " I could do without. "
" You know, I don't think we've actually ever talked before. " Steve points out while heading towards another ball. Instead of returning it to the cart, he dribbles it towards the hoop closest to us. He shoots it into the hoop, the ball making a loud sound as it returns to the ground.
" Well, we've never had a class together. " I shrug, taking the ball from him as he hands it over to me.
" What a shame. "
Does Steve like talking to me?
" I mean, that doesn't mean we can't start now. We're gonna be stuck together for the next few months. "
Steve picks up the last basketball. " True. I gotta go get changed before my mom gets here. It's been nice. See ya tomorrow? " His eyes steadily hold my gaze.
I nod. " For sure. "
Steve's smile widens slightly. " Later, Y/N. "
" Bye Steve. " My throat feels tight from excitement. I can't believe that just happened. Steve knows I exist. He knows I exist! And he actually likes talking to me! This...this is fucking great.
Sophomore Year - 1982
" Hurry the fuck up, Y/N. " Steve groans, his sweaty forehead pressed against his forearm. He lazily leans against the now empty bleachers, his eyes following me as I finish writing down the total of money the team made off of concessions.
" I told you that you didn't have to wait for me. I have shit to finish up here. " I nod towards the clip board in front of me.
" I'd be a shitty friend if I left you here. What if you get...kidnapped or some shit. I'd be first on the suspect list. "
Friend. I'm only his friend. Gosh, I need to get over this stupid crush. I mean, it's been over a year since we met and he hasn't said anything about liking me. Why would he like me now? He's into girls like Chrissy. Why else would he flirt with girls like her and not with me? If he liked me he'd tell me. Right?
I roll my eyes, trying to shake off my thoughts and focus of the impatient boy in front of me. " Great to see you care about me so much. Definitely isn't because of your reputation. "
Steve lets out a small laugh. " You know I'm fucking with you, right? "
" I know. Look, I'm almost done. Grab your duffle from the locker, will you? By the time you get back I'll have everything finished. Plus it'll give me a break from your whiny ass. " I joke.
" Ouch. And here I thought you loved me. " Steve holds a hand up to his heart, humor clearly in his tone.
For a moment my heart begins to race. Love. He knows? He doesn't know. Shut the fuck up and be normal. He's a friend. Just a friend.
" What made you believe that? Tommy's obviously my number 1. "
I'm not the biggest fan of Tommy. He's hot a cold. Somedays he's decent, other days he's a complete shit head. He's changed a lot since middle school.
For a moment something flashes over Steve's expression. Surprise maybe? Annoyance? As quickly as it comes it's gone. His playful expression returns. " I'll be sure to let him know that. "
" Don't you fucking dare! " My head snaps towards him. " I'll kill you, Harrington. I'm not even joking. He'll never let me live that shit down, even if it's a lie. And Carol will beat the shit out of me. "
Steve raises an eyebrow in amusement. He leans back against the bleachers, crossing his arms. " Don't worry, I'll sell tickets for the show. I'll even cheer you on. "
I roll my eyes. " Of course you would. "
" I'm gonna go grab my stuff before the janitors lock the locker rooms up for the night. " Steve laughs, pushing himself up. " Hurry the fuck up before I leave you here. "
" You wouldn't dare. "
" Watch me. " With that, he strolls towards the direction of the locker rooms. His strides ooze with confidence, a kind only Steve can emit.
Steve truly is one of a kind.
Junior Year - 1983
" Are you going to prom? " Steve asks out of the blue. He doesn't bother looking up from his text book.
I swallow harshly, heat climbing up my cheeks. I hate when people ask me this. " Nah. Prom's overrated. "
Steve's eyebrow quirks up. " So you're a dance hater? "
I shrug. " I just don't see what the big deal is. Blowing a ton of cash for one night? I'd rather buy new records. " I debate whether or not to tell him the next part. " Plus no one's asked me. " They never do. Why would they when they could ask someone like Carol or Chrissy?
Steve finally looks up at me, his gaze finally meeting mine. Shock is evident in his expression. " Really? You haven't been asked? "
I shake my head, heat crawling up my face again. " Why would I? In case you haven't noticed, I don't really have a ton of guy friends. And my friend pool isn't the largest. "
Steve sends me a sympathetic smile.
Instead of comforting me, it annoys me. He doesn't understand. He's had girls asking him out and asking him to dances from the moment he was allowed to go to dances.
" Anyone would be lucky to take you. You're a great person, Y/N. "
I roll my eyes, laughing slightly. " Yeah. Lucky. "
Steve's eyebrows furrow. " Why are you laughing? I'm serious. You're like the coolest person I know. "
" Then you have a very unique perspective of the word cool. " I glance up at the clock on the wall behind him. " Shit, I told my mom I'd run to the store and pick up some potatoes for dinner. I'm gonna be late. I gotta go. " I rush to gather my notebooks off of the library table.
" Do you want me to take you? " Steve asks, getting up after me.
I shake my head. " It's fine. It's just down the street. You keep studying. Lord knows you need to. Gotta pass that calc test in Jones' class tomorrow. " Truthfully, I just want to get out of this conversation and I'm worried that if Steve gives me a ride it'll just reignite the topic.
" Are you sure? I really don't mind taking you. I can always study at home. "
" I'm fine Steve. Plus, if you try to 'Study' at home, you're not going to get anything done. I know you. "
Steve rolls his eyes. " I love your confidence in me. With your reassuring words I can do anything. "
I let out a small laugh. " Shut up. "
Steve grins.
Fuck he's perfect.
I need to get out of here.
" I'll see ya later Steve. " I wave at him, pulling my bookbag over my shoulder.
" Later, Y/N. Walk safe. Call me in an hour or two so I know you weren't kidnapped or forced to join a circus. " Steve's joking but a part of his expression seems serious. Like he's actually worried about me.
I let out a sigh. " I'll be fine but I'll call you. "
I wish I was the type of person boys would ask out. The type that don't have to do anything for people to crush on them.
But I'm not.
++++++
" Y/N, Steve's here! " My mothers voice calls up to me.
What? Why's Steve here?
Confused, I head downstairs. As soon as I reach the bottom my eyes widen. Steve's still in the doorway, a small box in his hands. His hair is styled perfectly, like always. He's dressed in a fancy suit, something I've only seen him do for fall sport award nights or very special occasions.
" What the...? " I finally get to the bottom of the stairs. " Steve? What's going on? "
" You're going to Prom with me. " Steve holds out the box, his comment more of a statement then a question.
" I don't have an outfit! " I protest, confusion still fogging my mind.
" Just put on whatever you have. Come on, Y/N. It's prom. You need to experience it at least once. Why not with me? "
I feel my stomach begin to churn. Steve's taking me to prom? What fucking dream have I been blessed with?
I chew on my bottom lip. " I'll be back. " I turn to run back up the stairs.
I can't believe I'm going to prom with Steve.
I do my best to get dressed quickly. I manage to find a semi appropriate outfit for the dance and we head out.
" Dinner first. The dance is at 9. " Steve pulls into a familiar diner. It's the diner the whole team eats at after winning a game.
" Oh, you forgot to put on your corsage. " Steve opens the small box, gently taking out a beautiful corsage.
" Oh Steve, you really didn't have to do that. " I stare down at the beautiful flowers. " This is too much. "
Steve shakes his head. " I want you to have a prom to remember. You deserve it. "
I send him a smile. " Thank you. You...you're really the best. "
His smile widens, sending butterflies through my body. He gently puts the corsage onto my wrist. His fingers are cool. They leave tingly sensations on the skin he touches.
For a moment it's silent. I try to find a way to calm my nerves.
He's your friend. Just a friend.
" Actually, Y/N. I also wanted to talk to you about something. " Steve breaks the comfortable silence.
" Yeah? Go for it. " I take a sip of my water, my eyes staying on him.
For the first time he looks nervous. Like he has so much to say but he doesn't know how to.
" Are you okay? " I ask, slightly concerned. He's always so confident. He knows who he is and he's proud of it. It's something I've always admired.
Steve nods, pulling his eyes away from his water cup. " I'm just going to say it. Fuck. " He runs a hand through his hair.
My heart begins to pound faster. What's going on?
" Fuck, I hope this doesn't make things weird. That's the last thing I want. Look, I really like having you as a friend... " He starts.
What the fuck is he going to say? Now I'm nervous. Does he have another girlfriend? Someone who doesn't like him being friends with me?
"-But...fuck, look I like you. " He blurts out, a small blush crawling up his cheeks. " I've liked you for years and I really want to be more than friends. And...I don't know if this makes it weird. If you don't like me, I completely understand. We can just pretend this shit didn't happen and go to prom and never talk about it again. I really don't want to make you uncomfortable-" Steve rambles.
" Steve. " I try to interrupt.
" It's just been something I've struggled with for years and fuck, I don't want to keep it from you. Not when we could potentially be something more. I mean - "
" Steve. " I try a little more forcefully.
Steve's clearly stuck in his head because he doesn't seem to hear me.
"-I just don't want to have any regrets. Especially about you-"
" Fucking hell. Steve Harrington, I need you to shut the fuck up for a second. " I say louder, attracting the attention from an older couple nearby. " Sorry. "
Steve looks at me with wide eyes, clearly not expecting my reaction.
" Let me talk. Please. " I look into his eyes, excitement bubbling in my chest. " I like you to. Fuck, I never thought this would happen. "
Steve breaks into a wide grin. His shoulders relax and he seems less tense. " You do? "
I laugh slightly. " I mean, yeah. You're funny, you're talented, you're nice. You're the whole package. Steve, you're one of the kindest people I know. It's hard not to like you. "
" Oh my...thank god. I was so nervous you weren't going to feel the same. " Steve leans back into the booth seat he's in across from me.
" Me too. "
Today really has to be a dream.
" So...do you want to be my partner? " Steve asks, his gaze holding mine.
I smile. " I'd love to. "
Senior Year - 1984
" I'll see you after class? " Steve grins at me. He pushes away from the lockers he was leaning on.
" Of course. I'll meet you at your car. "
I watch as Steve walks away. He's immediately swallowed up by the crowd.
Thing's have been pretty good. Ever since we started going steady, things have been really nice. Of course, some people in the school don't really approve. It's hard to ignore sometimes but we try. Not everyone agrees that Steve should date someone like me.
It hurts.
But what's important is that we're still together. Despite the shit people say, we're trying.
Sometimes I can see it gets to Steve. He's lost a bit of respect. It's so fucking stupid. I don't understand why people think it's so important for him to date a certain type of person.
Sometimes I feel guilty for us dating. Sometimes his teammates can be dicks. They don't see what he sees in me.
It doesn't matter. As long as we're both happy, that's what's important.
++++++
" Look, we need to talk. "
Those are the first words I hear when I get into Steve's car. His jaw is tight. He avoids looking at me.
" Oh, yeah. What's up? " I ask, confused about what's going on. " Are you alright? You look tense. Did something happen in fifth period? "
" We need to break up. " Steve blurts out. He still avoids my gaze.
My eyes widen. " What? What's going on? Steve, look at me? "
" I'm done, Y/N. I need out of this relationship. "
What the fuck happened? We were fine literally an hour ago. What the fuck is going on?
" Why? Steve, what the fuck are you talking about? "
I feel my heart begin to break at his words.
Steve shakes his head. " I just-look, you're a nice girl, Y/N. But...I can't date you anymore. " His voice waivers slightly.
" Steve, what did I do? " My voice crackles. I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes. " What the fuck happened? "
" We don't look good together, Y/N. "
His excuse is fucking stupid.
" Since when have you cared about what other people think? Why now? "
Steve swallows harshly. " It's different now...I...you...we can't do this. You hear what they say about us, Y/N, don't you? What they say about you? "
Anger begins to bubble inside of me. This is what it's about. " It's me. You're embarrassed of me. " I'm silent for a second, trying not to let the tears come out. " Fuck you, Steve. "
Finally Steve looks up at me, hurt flashing over his face.
" You're an asshole, you know that? Since when have you given a fuck about someone elses' opinion? You're really doing this because of what other people have said? You're just like fucking Tommy, you know that? Like all of the other shallow assholes going to our school. " I open my door. " I hope you're happy. You'll finally get your spot as King of Hawkins back. I wish I'd never met you, Steve. "
" Y/N-" Steve begins, his arm reaching towards me. " I'm sorry- "
" Fuck you. " I slam his door, rushing away from his car. I hear a snicker as I walk past a few of the cars. Tommy and Carol whisper to each other, their harsh gazes glaring holes into my frame.
Steve's always had a bit of a reputation for being a dick to certain people. He's had a bit of a bullying streak. I thought that shit was over. I thought he'd grown out of it, I mean he was never mean to me.
I was wrong.
+++++++
Two days later he started dating Nancy Wheeler and I quit being a manager for the basketball team.
Fuck you Steve Harrington.
#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#x you#x female reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x plus size reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things x plus size reader#x plus size reader#plussize!reader#plus size reader#chubby reader#x chubby reader#fem reader#female reader#reader x character
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She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader] Pt.5
First chapter, Previous chapter, Next chapter
A/N: Get ready for some angst baby. So this is my first time writing something close to angsty. Which means I might not have completely perfected it yet. Then again there needs to be a first for everything. I hope you enjoy reading, and if you do, please let me know. My reqs are also open if people have any ideas they want to see written.
WC: 2,7K
Tags: Mild angst, conflicting feelings, a little hurt/comfort?, alt reader, realizing feelings, I don’t think this chapter is considered fluff.
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, feeling alone, hinting at past relationships?
Spencer POV
It was Thursday afternoon when Spencer had returned from a case. It was short, quick, which was nice because he wanted to go back to you. He had tried to call while away, to text you when he had time. Yet for some reason you hardly responded. You were slow to answer texts, the answers always short and quick. You had avoided his calls, when you did pick up they were equally as short as your texts. The tone was distant and a little cold. It was strange to him. The date had gone well, in his opinion, and he didn’t think he had done anything wrong. It was just a little nerve wracking. With every short message, every cut off call, his anxiety grew.
When they got back to Quantico, he was ready to head straight to your lab. Though he noticed there was no music when he arrived there, it was quiet inside. Too quiet. He gently knocked on the frosted glass door. There was no sound from inside, no light coming through the door. No indication that you were there. His shoulders sagged down, a little deflated. He had been looking forward to seeing you again, even if it was just to settle his own nerves. His hand found the cellphone in his pocket, he scrolled through the names until he found yours. Pressing the call button, he just really wanted to hear your voice. Needing to know if you were okay, if he hadn’t done something wrong. The phone rang, 3 times, heart beating out of his chest before you picked up.
“Hello, Y/N’s phone! Penelope speaking.” The familiar voice of their technical analyst sounded from the other end of the phone. Spencer furrowed his brow a little, “Hey, it’s Spencer… Is she with you?” He asked, his left hand holding on to the bottom edge of his sweater. “Oh! Spence! She just headed to the toilet, she should be back soon. Want me to take a message?” Penelope answered, her voice chipper, she probably didn’t know you had been avoiding him. Or if she did she didn’t let it show. “Can I come talk to her?” He asked, still a bundle of nerves, the bad kind. The one where a nauseous feeling settles in your stomach. Where every word could send him into a spiral if it was said with the wrong tone. “Ofcourse, I am sure you have a lot to talk about.” Penelope spoke, and he could tell there was something in her voice. She knew what was going on. It made his stomach sink further.
Just like that his feet started moving already towards Penelope’s office. “Thanks, I’ll be there in a minute.” Spencer said and quickly hung up before anything she could say would make it worse. He was quick, hoping to be there before you came back, so you couldn’t avoid him. He was there in a minute, like he had said, quickly and almost feverishly knocking on the door. The rapid rap of his knuckles against the solid wood sounded hollow in his ears. Penelope opened, trying to put on a bubbly smile. Though he peered past her to see if you were already back. No sign yet. “Hey, you should come in.” Penelope opened the door wider and he stepped past her. “Has she said anything? About me?” Spencer’s question felt weird. He didn’t want to come across as clingy, or that he was obsessed, but he just had to understand why. Why had you been avoiding him?
“Slow down boy wonder. I think I am not the one to tell you about that.” Penelope answered as she closed the door, pointing towards one of the desk chairs. Spencer hadn’t noticed how he had been nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet until she did. He sat down, trying to regain some composure. “Did I do something wrong? I thought the date went well. Maybe I rambled too much… That's usually what happens. I should have just stayed quiet, listened to her.” He rambled off nervously, his mind spiraling back to when he had leaned in and told a fact when you had been expecting something completely different. But you had kissed him after that, twice, it was so conflicting. Confusing. Paradoxical.
“Breathe!” Penelope urged, grabbing one of her many mugs with water and forcing it into Spencer’s hands. He took a gulp, hoping it would calm his nerves but it didn’t do anything. At Least he was silent. “Just…” Penelope sighed, “I can tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” Spencer nodded his head, taking another swig of the lukewarm water. He hoped it hadn’t been out for too long, who knew what bacteria were growing if it had. Though the idea of it was a mere whisper in the back of his mind as his entire consciousness was taken up by his worried thoughts. “I should have told you before, I really should have but I didn’t expect it to happen this quickly.” Penelope sounded dejected. “What happened? Just tell me, please?” He didn’t like how whiny that please sounded, how desperate it made him sound. Even though he was desperate for answers.
The door to Penelope’s office opened, “Honestly Pen, I don’t get why you have to be so far away from the b-” You stopped your sentence as your eyes met Spencer. He was desperately clinging on to the cup he was holding like it was his life line. “Hi…” was all he managed to say when he saw you. Even with all the conflicting feelings, your appearance still left him a little tongue tied. You weren’t wearing the lab coat, so he could fully appreciate your appearance. The black and red patterned dress was cut low, and hugged your hips and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your arms are covered with fishnet fabric, some parts more ripped up to create a few larger holes. More important to him was the belt, two clips extending to hold the hem, hiking up the skirt of your dress to show off just a sliver of your thigh. “Spencer.” The way you said his name still made his heart race. He got up from his chair, placing the mug back on Penelope’s desk. The blonde in question nudged you, Spencer could almost see the thoughts swimming behind your eyes. You must be just as nervous as he is. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Penelope said, quickly walking out the door of her own space, leaving the two of you there. Spencer’s heart was beating so loud, he could feel the blood rush under the skin of his hands. It was too silent as you both looked at eachother.
“I want to-” “Why didn’t you-” Both of you spoke at the same time, breaking through the silence. There was a slight, awkward, chuckle that left Spencer. “You can go first.” He said, wringing his hands together involuntarily. “I want to apologize…” You said it softly. Spencer’s eyes flicked down to your right hand, twisting in the fabric of your dress. Your left was steadily turning a ring on your finger. Everything you did screamed nervous to him. “What for?” He asked, eyes focussed on you. He wanted to see everything, piece together every unconscious movement that would give away a deeper meaning. “For being a bit absent. I just… had a lot of work.” Lie. That was a lie. Spencer could see it. The way you averted your eyes, how your hand stilled in the twisting of the ring, your breathing hitched up as you said the last part of your sentence. Everything pointed to it being a lie. He hated that he could see that.
You felt the need to lie to him. To temper his feelings by trying to explain away what had really happened. There were tens of thousands of thoughts swimming through his mind about what could have happened. Did you meet someone else? Or realize he wasn’t your type. The differences being too big to make it work. “Could you tell me the truth?” He didn’t mean for that to come out. Especially when he saw the surprise in your eyes. “I am. I was busy, I had a lot of evidence to sort through, drugs, nail scrapings. I also had the reports to write and- and-” You were trying to convince yourself that it was the truth. That hurt. Apparently you didn’t want him to know the real reason. “Y/N. I am a behavioral analyst, I can tell when you lie. Please just… don’t? I want to know what happened, I thought we had a good time at the museum. I just, did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to, and I can’t change it if you don’t tell me.” He was pleading now. Eyes on you as you looked for an answer, lips slightly parted as you breathed out. Taking a step closer, reaching out his hand to yours. Just to hold it in his, feel you, decide if this was either a bad nightmare or a terrible reality.
When Spencer felt your hand in his he closed his eyes for a moment. This was real. He opened his eyes again, the only focus was on yours. Waiting. Watching to see your response. “Spencer, it wasn’t anything you did. Trust me. You did nothing wrong, it was perfect, and I wish I could have stayed in that museum forever.” You spoke, not averting your gaze, looking him in the eye with full confidence. Not even a tremor in your voice. That was the truth.
“Then what happened? I don’t like that you’re ignoring me. It feels like just the entire pit of my stomach gave out. Did I move too fast? I’m not good with these things. But I really, really, like you. You do all these things to me. Just… I can’t take the silent treatment. Not from you.” There it was with a sigh. His feelings, out in the open. Hoping it was enough for you to tell him what happened. Instead, you looked sorrowful, eyes almost glossy with what he realized were tears. “I really am sorry. I need time for something. I can’t talk about it now, I don’t want to pull you down with me. I will tell you afterwards, okay?” Your voice did nothing to soothe the pain of rejection he felt. Even though he so wished to believe you. You were hurt too and he didn’t understand why. Because you were the one pushing him away.
Spencer nodded his head dejectedly, a soft sniffle leaving him as he tried to not let the emotions overwhelm him. All the anxiety had left and was replaced by the cold, empty feeling of rejection. His nerve endings were no longer on edge, instead they were rather numb. “I’ll eh… I will go. Leave you to whatever you need to do.” His voice didn’t really sound like his own to him. Like he was running on autopilot and it was a preprogrammed recording. He let go of your hand, taking a deep breath, before he walked to the door. His hand was on the door knob when you called his name, when he looked over his shoulder at you you looked just as dejected. Your lips parted, like you wanted to say something, closing again, opening again. He could see you looking for the right words, but there were none. His lips formed an awkward, tight smile and he nodded. “Text me when you want to talk.” He said before leaving the room.
Closing the door with a hollow sound he took just a few steps before Penelope approached him. “What happened? Are you okay?” her voice concerned and laced with just a little pity. He didn’t need pity right now. He didn’t want to be around anyone. “Could you tell Hotch I need a personal day?” His question got a frantic nod in return. Clearly she understood it wasn’t something good that happened just now. “Yeah, yeah of course. Need anything else?” She answered, trying to be the good friend he always knew she was. He shook his head no, “I just need time.” He spoke softly before walking over to his desk. There was no comment from Derek, just a slight sympathetic look. He hated that.
Grabbing his bag and his jacket he quickly made himself ready to leave. JJ tried to stop him, files in hand ready to ask a question when he ducked his head and continued on. Not willing to talk right now he stepped on the elevator and pressed to go down. Walking out the door and straight to his car in the garage. When he finally reached his car and sat down it all hit him. His stomach felt heavy yet empty, but also like it was twisted in knots. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm down a little, tears threatening to spill behind his eyes. Blinking rapidly to push them back. There was no need for tears. You went on one date, he shouldn’t be this attached, yet he is. From the moment he had entered your lab he had been awestruck. Then, in the following week, he had started rambling and feared he had messed up by doing so. Yet you just smiled, asked more questions, let him ramble and rant about everything and anything. Content to hear him speak. He didn’t feel like an annoyance.
Spencer sighed, putting his key in the ignition and turning it, the song that came on was still on the same radio station that you had put it on, depeche mode sounding through the speakers. Quickly, his hand reached out, changing the station to anything else. Not wanting to be reminded of you immediately. He pulled out of the parking lot, driving home, a welcome distraction from his thoughts. When he got home though, he felt completely drained. Placing his bag near the front door, dropping the jacket over it. Toeing off his shoes before walking further into the apartment. He sat down on the couch. Once again alone with his thoughts. He leaned his head back, resting it against the top of the couch as he closed his eyes again. Rubbing his eyes with another sigh.
He wondered what it could be. What the reason for your coldness was. The fact that you seemed reluctant about it just made it weirder. He cursed himself for being able to read your expressions, your movements, to deduct anything from your behavior. He wished he didn’t know because it would have made it so much easier to be angry with you. To feel betrayed, led on, or even used. Instead he knew that you were just as torn up about what happened as he was. It made it feel even worse. He knew there was a reason, but the fact you were not willing to tell him hit the wrong nerve. Eyes opened on the ceiling, the faded green color perfect to get lost in. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. Head tilted back, looking at the ceiling as his mind was both working over time and thinking of nothing. A weird combination of feeling too full yet completely empty. Watching the shadows stretch further and further, slowly fading until there were no longer any shadows cast on his ceiling. It was just dark.
That’s what it was like. The night taking over the sunny feeling he had felt. An end coming to the light he had felt for the past two weeks. The nocturnal cold setting into his body. How he hated the realization that dawned on him that moment. He didn’t just like you. He had fallen all at once, during that first meeting, without realizing. Now it was too late to tell you. He doubted you even felt the same. So now he was left to suffer the heartbreak on his own. To deal with the conflicting emotions you left him with.
At least the night was quiet enough for him to think.
Tag list: @luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95 @jasf444 @queermaxwooo @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @sammy-4103 @thedevioussmirk @pleasantwitchgarden @khxna
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#alt reader#goth reader#she blinded me with science#tumblr writer#hurt/comfort#part 5#multi part fic#spencer reid x goth reader#spencer reid x alt reader
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Reactions to Crazier Bastard's Chapter 293
Brief summary: Alberu thought that he isn't suited to be a hero. Ahn Roh Man is helping Alberu with his quests. Cale sends Freedom to watch Erza. Clopeh gives Cale some advice on how to deal with Exion.
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Last chapter, I speculated about the true identity of the "God of ???". Alberu himself was not a 100% sure that it was the Absolute God, but wondered if it was another name of the Absolute God.
Then we had some fun interaction between Alberu and Ahn Roh Man (ARM). ARM was helping Alberu with his main quest in becoming an emperor. Though they had a friendly relationship, the two did not quickly trust each other.
Alberu admitted that he refused to call ARM "hyung" because he did not like having someone above him. ARM took this in stride and both just laughed it off.
The part about the hero was somehow sad though. Alberu thought that he was not hero material. 😟 For him, CH, Cale, and Rosalyn were the fairy tale heroes. He preferred to be the king who gave missions to the hero.
3rd Inquisitor Erza was also known for not being able to see or make contracts with elementals, so Cale attached Freedom to watch her. But that was not a good idea... 🤣🤣🤣
Erza sighed and felt something tickling her cheek, causing her to let out an involuntary giggle.
She spoke to the air, as it was invisible.
"Aren't you supposed to be watching me, and yet you comfort me like this?"
She couldn't see or hear the elemental.
She could only feel their presence when they used their powers.
That's why she couldn't hear what the elementals around her were saying.
'Sniff… Freedom! Good scent! My favorite elf, finally found you!'
A few of the wind elementals beside her muttered.
'Hey, shouldn't we tell that elf that there's a crazy elemental attached to her?
'I don't know. That elf can't hear us.'
'What should we do?'
'Oh, I don't know, we can't make a contract with her anyway, so what's the point?'
'But.'
And Freedom muttered.
'Freedom, chaos! Romance! Strong elf! Sniff! Swordsman elf! Chaos! Destruction! Destroy! Destroy! Kekekeke!'
A cool, soft breeze drifted by Erza's side.
Perhaps it was a good thing that Erza couldn't see or hear elementals... 🤣🤣🤣
Exion was described by Erza to be a crazy person who couldn't communicate. Therefore, when Cale was thinking of that, Clopeh gave him some advice. The advice though.... 🤣🤣🤣
Cale: He's a crazy person who can't communicate.
Clopeh: Fufu. Cale-nim. There's something I've learned from creating and leading the Indomitable Alliance.
Cale: *listens for now*
Clopeh: There's no such thing as a crazy person who can't communicate.
Cale: Is that true?
Clopeh: Yes. I've met people who were called that, but if you talk to them right, they'll listen. *smiles brightly while looking holy* They all ended up nodding their heads at my words and saying I was right about everything?
Cale: ... *frowns*
Clopeh: You're a better speaker than I am, Cale-nim, and your good side will be revealed as you talk, so I'm sure you'll definitely communicate well.
Cale: ...Right.
Narrator: Somehow, Cale had a feeling that the reason Clopeh's conversation partners could communicate well with him wasn't simply because Clopeh was a good talker.
Cale: (Let's just agree with him. Yes, I'm sure it was like this. I'm positive that those people expressed agreement to Clopeh's words like me right now.)
Clopeh, you also fit the definition of "crazy person who can't communicate"... 🤣🤣🤣
Ending Remarks
Lots of funny moments today, especially the parts with Freedom and Clopeh. Next chapter would be more serious as Cale would be meeting the great elder who watched the World Tree of Aipotu.
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I NEEDDDD more of YouTuber y/n X Spencer 😭 pllzzzzz maybe the first time he actually is on a video? Not just by accident but doing something like a challenge or something 😭?
HEHEHEHE I AM FERAL FOR THEM YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! i also love this concept... everyone pls feel free to send me more 🫶
cw: major fluff, competitive reader, competitive spencer, reader (sometimes) wears makeup
wc: 1.4k
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You were extremely giddy. Ever since Spencer’s face was accidentally shown in one of your unedited videos, he’s been slowly coming around to the idea of being more involved with your channel. Of course, he had to be careful at times because of his job, so it started out small. You saw a trend on TikTok and practically begged Spencer to participate.
It was simple really. You would take a video of your makeup routine and then have Spencer do the voiceover without telling him the exact name of the method or technique you were doing. He was adorable with it, truly, and because of this, the internet went absolutely berserk. Comments ranged from awe to thirsting over his voice, and you didn't blame them. It was this uproar of engagement that sparked the idea of actually having him in a real video for your channel.
Spencer was apprehensive at first– he was still a bit camera shy, but after your reassurance that the people will love him, he agreed, wanting to help and support you in any way possible. When he asked about the video you had in mind and the words “trivia game” were thrown around, his eyes lit up and even offered for Penelope to go over to your apartment to be the one reading the questions so that it could be a fun game between the two of you.
When the camera was set up, ring lights on, and Penelope curled up on the big comfy chair behind the scenes, it was show time.
“Hello, lovelies!” Your intro went as usual, and as you spoke, you could see Spencer in your peripheral, staring at you with a gentle smile on his face. After about a minute of talking, you took a breath and turned your head to his. “You're probably wondering who this hunk of brains is next to me… this is Spencer, my boyfriend!”
Spencer finally took a glance at the camera and gave a thin smile with a shy wave. “Hi.”
A giggle erupted from you and Penelope, which resulted in your eyebrows jumping up. “And behind the camera is the magical woman I am stealing to be my best friend–” your words were slightly interrupted by a soft “hey” coming from Spencer, “Penelope!” You gave another smile to the camera before going on to explain what you were doing in the video. “Today we are putting our brains to battle in some fun trivia! Penelope will be reading us pop culture trivia and whoever answers first correctly gets a point. The prize is… bragging rights?” Your eyebrows pulled together. You forgot to think of that part, but a smile erupted once Penelope spoke from behind the camera.
“Oh! What if Spencer has to be in three in your TikTok videos if you win, and if he wins, he gets to tweet from your twitter!”
“Penny, you're a genius!”
Penelope was bashful as Spencer held a confused expression. “Tweet?”
“Oh boy wonder,” Penelope started, “I’ll show you the ins and outs if you get that far.”
Once again, Spencer let out a soft “hey” in response.
Noticing his semi-hurt expression, a pout formed on your lips and you gently placed your hand on his thigh, immediately feeling him relax under your touch and shift his body more towards yours. “It’s okay, baby. I believe in you.”
It was like he couldn't help himself. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, causing stars to appear in your eyes and a small “eek!” to come from Penelope's mouth. The sound startled Spencer, making a blush appear on the apples of his cheeks. He cleared his throat and muttered, “shall we start?”
Shaking yourself from the starry place he sends you, you turned back to the camera. “Right! Well, Pen, we’re ready whenever you are.”
“Okay, first question. ‘Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?’ is a classic movie line from what 1985 John Hughes film?”
A millisecond barely went by before words were spewing out of Spencer’s mouth, “The Breakfast Club!”
You knew he was right, so you weren't too disappointed when Penelope called out as correct. “Okay, next one,” she said, marking a tally under Spencer’s name on a small whiteboard on her lap. “What five members make up the band *NSYNC?”
You were practically shouting out the answer before she finished the question, “Justin Timberlake, Lance Bass, JC Chasez, Joey Fatone, and Chris Kirkpatrick!”
“Correct!”
“Yes!” You jumped up from the couch, only aware of your overexcitement after looking down at Spencer and seeing the complete awe plastered on his face. “Sorry…” You sat back down with a shy smile on your face, but Spencer just shook his head, folding his lips in.
“Don't be,” he started, “you're cute when you're excited.”
“Yeah, excited to destroy you,” you said sassily.
A scoff soon followed from Spencer, “oh, it’s on.”
“Shall I continue?” Penelope spoke up, trying not to interrupt their moment. She only asked the next question when both parties on the couch gave a nod. “Which member of One Direction was the first to go solo?”
And the game continued. Honestly, you thought you had this win in the bag, but as it progressed, you became increasingly worried. Who knew your genius boyfriend was pretty well-versed in pop culture trivia? It was the end of the game when the two of you inevitably tied, and Penelope was basically on the edge of her seat as she prepared to give you the last question.
“Okay, tie breaker. This is for the win.”
As much as you love each other, you were both in it to win it. You two were also too focused to realize the mirroring positions you had. Both hunched over with your hands clasped as your arms resting on your knees, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, and eyebrows scrunched together (once the video is uploaded the comments have a field day with this… you guess that's what happens when you live with someone for a while).
“The E.L. James novel Fifty Shades of Grey is based on fanfiction from what young-adult book series?”
You knew the answer… deep, very deep in your mind, you knew, but before you could even reach those depths, Spencer was standing up with wide eyes. “Oh! I know this one. It’s Twilight!” When Penelope told him he was right, he let out a loud “ha” as he looked at you and pulled your sitting body into a hug. It was an awkward hug, but a hug nonetheless.
As he was squeezing your shoulders, you moved your head up so that your chin was resting on his stomach. Your eyebrows knit together wondering how the hell he knew that, and once he came down from his high he loosened his grip and sat back down, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “We uh, had a case that involved the topic of vampires to come up… I was intrigued and learned a lot about the series.”
You just smiled and pecked his nose with your lips. “Your brain is insane and I love it.”
He ducked his blushed face down and Penelope cleared her throat, prompting the two of you to remember your surroundings and the camera placed in front of you. “So the winner is Spencer!”
Letting out a sigh, you gave a nod and opened up Twitter before starting a new post and handing your phone to Spencer. “It’s all yours, lover boy. Write what you want– there is a word limit, though.”
He held your phone for a moment, staring at the screen as he pursed his lips. It was only a few seconds later until he started typing away. After about a minute, he pressed the button to send the tweet, and you immediately heard an “awe” come from Penelope as she looked at her phone. Looking down at the app, you took a peek at what he wrote, and your heart was ready to burst.
@ y/ny/l/n: According to a 2013 survey, nine in ten Americans cited that love is the most important reason to get married, compared to 28% of people who said they wed for financial stability… I think I’m with those 9 people. I thought that was a fun fact :)
You knew the replies were already going crazy, but you refused to look at them. You were in for a ride with Spencer Reid.
#EVERYONE SEND ME MORE PLEASE!!#MY BELOVEDS!!#spencer reid#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#youtuber!reader
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Hey buddy, I just wanted to say that your art is such a thing, I mean, it feels so gentle and comfortable, you truly can feel the love with you made any of them, any comic, doodle, oc, they feel so real and tridimensional. Well, I'm triying to say that your works are so honest, you just go ahead with what you like and it got so enjoyble., it's made with a vibe of dedication, love and pasion, is like you let part of you in all of them.
So, I want to thank you, for all of that, for all those pretty and relatable moments you give us, and, even if you stay at the anonymity, it feels like us don't need that information 'cause you let the most important in your comics. Some days I just arrive a little down, but see your art make me feel a little better. And, not just for me, you're a inspiration; well I also like comics, but I'm a little shy to share them, seen yours makes me want to share my ideas too, currently I'm not doing that, maybe one day, but seeing yours make me
This would sound a little odd, but I'm truly worried about you, I mean, it have been a time since you get sick, take it easy buddy, your health it's pretty important
Thank you, for all those comics, doodles and ocs, are wonderful and you truly end loving them at the same way you love them, and took you the time do it and share it with us.
This is me seeing your art, you can handle everything buddy, take it easy.
NOW THE QUESTION XD, which is the difference between ask and the colaboration? writing these I didn't know to where send it ._.
I don't have the words! Just! Thank you!! 😭😭😭 It was so wonderful to read this! And it's you!! It's people like you and your comments that keep me coming back! So thank you!! 😭😭💖💖💖
As for my health, I know it's hard but try not to worry.. I think I'm on the edge of a breakthrough! In fact, I think I might have already made one! XDD Once I'm past that horrible journey I'll be sure to let y'all know!
Also your question! Comments like this can certainly be sent to my ask box! Though I also appreciate comments on my artwork on the post themselves too! If that sentence made any sense- 😅
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There For You
Pairing: Evan Buckley x reader
Summary: Buck is there for you after some people were mean to you because of your anxiety.
Request: Hello! I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Evan buckley where his significant other has anxiety or ADHD and others where mean to her? And he comforts her? [See request here]
A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for sending me this request! I hope you like it.
Divider made by @firefly-graphics
911 Masterlist
Today was definitely not your best day. Things were so stressful at work, and when you got home you didn’t even have much time to talk to Buck. You could only talk for a few minutes when he called you, to make sure you were okay.
Then you were out with some friends, even though some of them weren’t really your friends. When your anxiety started to get worse, you tried to focus on what they were talking about, but you just couldn’t. After a while you went outside for a few minutes and when you came back you heard them talking and laughing about you. You had tears in your eyes and wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. You wanted Buck to hug you, you needed Buck.
You turned around and started going to your car when suddenly one of the others noticed that you were leaving.
“Yeah, go to your firefighter boyfriend.” the person said and some of them laughed. You couldn’t hear what the others were saying because you were now focused on getting away from there.
Buck’s shift ended an hour ago, so he should be home, you thought and drove to his apartment.
When you finally knocked on his door, it only took a few seconds for him to open the door. At first he smiled at you, but then he realized that you were crying and got worried.
“Babe, what happened?” Buck asked in a worried tone, and you started sniffling.
“Oh babe, come here.” He said and wrapped his arms around you. You hugged him tightly, and Buck gently rubbed your back.
“I’ve got you.” After a few minutes you broke the hug and started playing with your hands while Buck wiped the tears from your cheek away. When he noticed that you were playing with your hands, he reached for your hand and intertwined it with his. Then he led you to the couch and you sat down next to him and rested your head on his shoulder. After a few seconds your leg started bouncing and Buck gently placed his hand on your knee and made it stop slowly and comforted you.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked after a while, not wanting to push you.
“You know that I was out with the others, right?” You said and Buck nodded.
“After a while my anxiety got worse and the…the others laughed about me and said some mean stuff.” You stuttered and Buck reached for you hand and then said.
“Oh no, babe, I’m sorry. Don’t listen to what they said. They don’t know you like I do.” You smiled at him, and Buck softly kissed you.
“Can we go to bed and cuddle?” You asked after the kiss.
“Of course we can.” You walked upstairs while holding his hand and then made yourself comfortable in bed. Cuddling with Buck always makes you feel better, especially when you rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
“Thank you Evan, I love you.” You said and looked up at him with a smile.
“I love you too.”
You’re so glad to have Buck. He always knows exactly what to do or say to make you feel better.
Taglist:
@cevansbaby-dove
#evan buckley#evan buck buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley x you#evan buckley x y/n#buck#buck x reader#buck x you#evan buckley fanfiction#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley fluff#911#911 on abc#911 abc#911 fandom#911 on fox#911 fox#911 imagine#911 fanfic#911 fanfiction#911 x reader#oliver stark
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Stormy Weather
Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; angst/comfort/fluff
Trigger Warnings: major domestic issues, trauma response, things are resolved but hard, language
A/N: Hey my loves! So this one is… pretty hard core for me? I rarely write angst but this one has been on my mind for a bit. This does get pretty aggressive but I needed to process my own experiences with DV and relationship issues. This story isn’t meant to glorify or make light of DV, but rather it’s a way for me to process my fears about my future relationships after my bad one. I hope this made sense, and maybe someone could find some catharsis in this like I did. Love you all to bits and pieces, I’m trying to get to my inbox!! As always, feel free to send me prompts or requests. Love you all 💕- Mo
It had been tense recently in the Solomons house. The new men in the bakery were just above incompetent despite Shelby assurance. American prohibition put another twist in the binds. And the recent weather had done nothing to aid Alfie’s sciatica. Through no fault of your own, and despite your best efforts, Alfie was knee deep in angry old man territory.
Though that wasn’t something that put you off. Women are not so easily turned by nasty weather, for better or worse.
You weren’t naive to the tempest of your husband. The beauty of his heart and his mind had to paid for by torrential rains once a season. His roar never came to your quiet garden, though you were acquainted with his rumbles and thunder. But you knew how to temper it. You knew what brought him through it into the clear.
You hummed to the radio in the corner, settling your finishing touches to a soothing evening with your beast of a husband. Brisket was just pulled out, with carrots and potatoes buttery and tender. You had washed the sheets and blankets, pressed them with dried lavender and eucalyptus oil. Lamps were turned low, and the fire was a soothing crackle, the entire parlor a syrup sweet orange glow. Water was hot for a bath for two, and everything was set for a soft warm evening.
As you pour out your first glass of wine, you hear the front oak door swing open, and slam shut shaking the walls. Light on your feet you flew to the front, opening your arms as a harbor. “Alfie darling, get your coat off, I have dinner and wine all set for your already! Let’s get you warm!”
His eyes don’t even meet yours as he evades your soft arms.
You feel as though your body wilts. Completely crumbling under the weight of the dejection.
But maybe he didn’t see you! Maybe he just didn’t realize!! He works hard he probably just has to attend to something quickly.
Your bare feet flex against the frigid wood stairs, creaking under the weight of your trek. Your ears perked up to the rustling of the papers and slamming of drawers and rumble of his voice. Like a dragon arranging his lair.
You crack the heavy door, requiring all of your weight. Paper and ink were thrown around, drawers yanked crooked, and you see him take long swigs of the amber liquid in the crystal decanter. “Alfie? Darling you alright? Did something happen”
He does not even toss a glance, “nothing that concerns you. Close the door one your way out.”
The rolling thunder edges closer to the home, “Aren’t you going to come down and eat? I’ve made your favorite tonight.”
“Does it look like I care about dinner? I’m preoccupied at the moment and don’t need your yowling right now.”
A bright flash illuminates the room.
“Alfie I don’t know what’s wrong but you will not speak to me like this.”
“I’ll fucking speak to you how I fucking feel like! Now get the fuck out!”
The sky explodes. Shaking the paintings and photos on the walls. The mirror above the fireplace behind you shifts precariously. Your eyes shut but the sounds wash over you.
You don’t let the anger out of your chest very often. You pride yourself on keeping an even temper and offering a gentle hand in place of the rage. Especially when being with Alfie, your honeyed lips and temperament is what makes you the queen of Camden. There’s been so few people who have seen your rage, much less deserved to receive it.
“Get the fuck out you said?”
A slight chill runs down Alfie’s spine. “Yeah. Yeah I said get the fuck out. You deaf now?”
Another flash.
“Ok.”
Alfie hardly blinks before he suddenly sees glass hurdling towards his face. He just barely ducks before it shatters against the wall behind him.
“What the fuck!” He roars and thrashes.
To his shock, you pick up the glasses on his bar cart, throwing them with all your might at his head, one by one, with deadly aim.
“Get the fuck out eh Alfie! Get the fuck out!! I’ll get the fuck out! Maybe I’ll take you fucking with me!”
You make your way to the Faberge eggs on the shelf.
“Don’t you fucking dare sweetheart! There will be hell to pay if you touch those fucking eggs!”
“Oh we are well past that Alfie. You tell me to get the fuck out? I’m taking your fucking stuff!”
Three perfectly beautiful eggs are slammed against the fire with your husband roaring and punching the wall, “Enough damnit! Get the fuck out of my office! Get to the fucking room you fucking lunatic! I’ll lock you in the bedroom if you keep this up!”
“Oh I’d like to see you try! You call yourself a man! King of Camden! King of Camden so upset he curses out his woman! So mighty yet he can’t take care of his own home! You’re a fucking CHILD! A fraud!”
You grab at a cabinet and pull it down, slamming against the ground. The glass shattered. The tin type of your wedding surely shattered in the frame. In the moment of silence after the shatter, you don’t realize Alfie coming up behind you and lifting you in the air.
You scream and kick, trying to get away and out of his grasp. But he was immovable. A wall. All you hear was his grunts as you howled and cried. He wrenches the bedroom door open, throwing you onto your marriage bed. You scramble up the bed, reaching for the knife under your pillow.
Heaving breaths, Alfie puts his hands in surrender, “Treacle treacle please. Enough ok. No need to stick me. Let’s.. let’s talk.”
“You’ve already said anything you need to. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say you fucking-“
“Darling I was wrong. Ok. I shouldn’t have swore at you. Come on. Just… put it down. Let’s… let’s talk about this ok? Truce?”
You push the hair out of your eyes, wipe the tears off your face and put the knife on the night stand, far enough from either of you.
Alfie has never raised a hand towards you ever. He’d rather put the gun on himself than touch you. But old habits die hard.
You pull your feet under your night gown. Watching Alfie pull off his coat and shoes before sitting on the bed. The ancient frame creaking under his weight.
He reaches for your hand, but retracts when he sees your dark stare toward it. With a sigh he relents and decides to begin. It’s never good to be the starter of negotiations. “Darling. I am sorry for shouting at you. It wasn’t fair to you. The business doll… it does my head in. But. It doesn’t excuse shouting at you. Can you forgive me?”
You feel the heaviness slowly slipping away from your neck. You nod meekly, allowing your fingers to drift to his, weaving around his warm fingers.
Brushing the inside of your wrist, he continues, “Now darling. While I was in the wrong, you don’t normally start throwing shit around. Very unlike you it is. You want to explain what caused that? What’s going on in that pretty head?”
You shake your head no. It’s sitting on your tongue though it’s so bitter. You can’t bring yourself to spit out the poison.
“Oh come on darling. It’s just me. Nothing can put me off. You and me forever right?”
You nod, and reveal your feelings, even if it’s a slow trickle.
“I just… got so angry at you Alfie. I’ve been so lonely these past few months. You’ve been gone. Any time you say you’ll be home you’re not. I’m without you all the time. And when you are here, you’re not really. Your mind is still gone and I don’t have my husband. Just his body. And his words hurt me so much. And I thought, I thought tonight I could finally get you. I thought if I tried hard enough you would be happy and with me. Like we were. And then when I tried to help you and be your wife, you screamed at me. And it hurt me. So I wanted to hurt you and break things to make myself feel better. But it didn’t. It made me more angry and sad and…”
Your words were reduced to tears as your husband pulled you into his lap. Your tears soaked his neck and shirt, “Oh God Alfie I’m so sorry! That was wrong and I’m sorry! Alfie was please forgive me! I’ll never disturb you again! I’ll never throw anything ever again! Oh God Alfie can you forgive me!”
A gentle kiss to your forehead settles your fears, “Now my darling you know in your heart of hearts that we are bound for eternity. Nothing is taking us apart. Not even when we fight like demons. I’m yours and you’re mine. You and me… well we just need a little medicine yeah? Just need some help right now. You and me need to do a better job talking to each other and listening yeah?”
You can barely get words out as you nod. Cheeks hot and sticky. But it doesn’t stop Alfie from kissing your cheeks so tenderly. “My dove. My sweet dove. The business has been out of control but it’s finally settling down. I came home angry because of all the messes I’ve had to clean up. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on the one person I like. The one person I love. But it’s finally settled my pet.”
His thick hands tenderly touch your chin to bring your eyes to his, which are also wet with tears, “I promise to always tell you when I’m not doing ok. And if I can’t tell you then, I’ll make sure to tell you when I need a moment. You think you can promise your old man the same?”
“Yes… I promise.” You whisper
There is a slight twinkle that flies across his eyes, “Think you can seal it with a kiss?”
You throw yourself against him, and he catches you with a grunt. You hated to fight. You’d sooner walk into the ocean than be at odds with the love of your life. When you finally come up for air, Alfie whispers against your lips, “I’m staying home for the rest of the week. I’ll tell Ollie what he needs to do in the morning.”
Without moving a millimeter you say, “No you can’t darling. It’s your life I don’t want you to have to stay home if you can’t.”
“You’re my life treacle. Forever and all eternity you’re what matters. I’ve decided. I’m staying home. And come Saturday we go up to Margate.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I am that you’re the only woman for me.”
He kisses you sweetly, and you whimper as you let yourself be further embraced by him. Barely moving from your lips he whispers, “Why don’t you start a bath darling? I’ll grab tea from downstairs and join you soon.”
“I made dinner… it’s on the stove for you.”
“I’ll bring a plate for us. You just… get comfortable for me treacle. I think we need some time.”
For the rest of the night… and the rest of the week. You spent time talking and embracing, coming back together and healing what had been fraying at the edge. Though mistakes were made, and there were deep wrongs, you both wanted to fix it, to heal.
Neither of you were perfect. You never would be. But there was love there, and determination to get through the wounds that lead to these kinds of mistakes. These moments were not ok, and they stemmed from deep seated traumas that were undealt with. But you both wanted this marriage. You both wanted each other. And you both would work everyday to make it work.
With every word.
With every caress.
With every kiss.
Things would heal.
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons x y/n#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders
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𝑩𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒆
A/N: Hey hey y'all! 👋🏾 Long time no Miguel huh? Well, to remedy that, I've got here a shorty, but a goodie. I've named her Bite Me, and you'll see why as you read. I hope y'all enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts and send in more Miguel related asks, provided you read my rules first. Ok, and again I say, enjoy! 😁
❥︎ 𝑮𝒊𝒈𝒊 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒊 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
You had a bad habit of getting on Miguel’s nerves.
Not that you were necessarily trying.
At least, not all the time, or even most of the time.
Is what you say. But Miguel knows better.
He knows that you may or may not-so-secretly enjoy setting him off. And it’s not even always in the words you say, although those can be particularly infuriating.
It’s in the way you sashay around him, curves and dips on full display. It’s in the way you touch him, gentle yet teasing. A “comforting” hand on his shoulder, that slowly but surely begins to trail downward, resting just on the small of his back.
Which for Miguel, is particularly sensitive.
To sum up, you're driving Miguel insane.
He’s always especially on the verge of losing it when he sees you interacting with the other spider people around the complex.
You’re so friendly and jovial, always offering to help and lending a hand whenever anyone needs something.
This is undoubtedly a good thing, and Jess always comments on how nice it is to have a go getter like you on the team.
She’s right, and your propensity for helpfulness would be fine…
If you didn’t insist on also being so touchy with the people you aid.
And always in front of Miguel no less.
Miguel’s not exactly sure where this sudden possessiveness stems from, but he just knows that he loathes the thought of you touching anyone else the way you touch him.
He quietly observes you as you go about your business, talking and mingling with the other spiders.
A seemingly innocuous touch on the shoulder here, a comforting rub on the arm there.
And a playful butt slap?!
Uhn uhn, nope.
Miguel stomps over to where you are, currently doubled over laughing at the flushed face of one of your fellow spider men.
“__? May I speak to you in the lab? There’s something I’d like you to see.”
Miguel’s tone is apparently firmer than he intended, as you quickly straighten up, clearing your throat and gesturing for him to lead the way.
You don’t miss the way his eyes throw daggers at your companion, but you decide against commenting on it.
The trek to the lab is mostly quiet, and while you’re not exactly afraid of Miguel, you wonder what it is he needs to show you.
Different thoughts occupy your mind up until you reach the lab, such that you nearly bump into Miguel when he abruptly stops walking.
“So, what can I do ya’ for Mr. Boss Man? You said you needed to show me something?”
Miguel is silent for some seconds more, and you’re about to speak again when he suddenly turns, leveling you with a glare that has you taken aback.
“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?”
Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that.
Mouth agape, you grasp for words like a fish out of water.
“Wh-..I-I’m…what?!”
“You switch around here like you’ve not a care in the world, always so chipper and touchy. Everytime I look around, there you are laughing with or smiling at or touching someone. Why can’t you just be still?”
You’re so taken aback that you can’t even formulate a response for several moments. Where on Earth was this coming from? Since when had Miguel been observing you for long enough to even begin harboring these feelings? And why was he just now saying something? Was it because of earlier?
“-__…hello, Earth to __?”
“Miguel, what in the world? This whole thing has thrown me for a loop. Where is this coming from all of the sudden?”
The man doesn’t answer for several seconds, blood red irises burning into yours.
After a moment, he turns his back to you, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder.
“Nevermind __, forget I said anything.”
“No Miguel, I’m not just gonna let this go. I want a proper explanation.”
Approaching him, you place a hand on his shoulder, fully intending to turn him to face you when, in a swift couple of movements, he’s grasped your wrist and flipped you around, your back now pressed up against the large console in front of him.
Miguel now looms over you, eyes roaming slowly across your face and front.
“Miguel, what-...”
“Aye coño, I had planned to keep this to myself. You just make everything so difficult, huh?”
You find yourself mesmerized by his low tone of voice and the intoxicating crimson of his irises, such that you’re unable to respond immediately.
“E-explain Miguel.”
The man gives an exasperated roll of his eyes, caging you in with his hands on either side of you.
“Useful though you may be, you’re certainly not the brightest crayon in the box, hm?”
You scoff, rightfully offended.
“If this is your way of flirting, you’re going to seriously have to get better about it.”
Miguel chuckles, and the sound makes you smile slightly despite yourself.
“Is that so? Well then, I suppose you’ll have to give me pointers. You know best what tactics work on you after all.”
You begin to speak, before your eyes widen in realization.
“Wait, you were actually flirting with me? But you just insulted me! Like, two or three times in the span of fifteen minutes. The way you talk, it sounds like you don’t even like me.”
Miguel hums, bringing a gloved palm up to cup your cheek.
“Ah, my sweet __, you’re so simple. It’s adorable.”
You’re not entirely sure why, but when Miguel’s thumb subconsciously nears your mouth, you bite down on it with some force, causing the man to yank the digit away.
He stares at his thumb for a moment, which glistens slightly with a bit of your saliva, before leveling you with an incredulous look.
“You bit me.”
You nod.
“I did. And you totally deserved it. As a matter of fact, I should have bitten you even harder.”
You humph, a little grin curling your mouth.
It’s quiet between you for a moment, before Miguel does something that frankly shocks you.
He brings the bitten finger up to his mouth, licking over it slowly while maintaining eye contact with you.
You can’t deny that the action makes you feel…things, and you’ve little time to react before Miguel has caged you in again, a smirk shaping his infuriatingly handsome face.
“I never took you for a biter.”
This time though, you’re better prepared for the close proximity.
“There’s a lot you’ve yet to discover about me, Gigi.”
The distance between the two of you is subconsciously closing, your lips getting closer and closer.
You can see Miguel’s irises slowly turning scarlet, the color bright and piercing. When next he opens his mouth to speak, you can see the beginnings of sharp fangs dropping from his upper gum line.
“Really? Well, I’d be interested in getting to know all about you, muñeca.”
You snort quietly, before deciding to bite the bullet and pull Miguel in for a, frankly overdue, kiss.
The two of you stay connected in your lip lock for quite a few moments, tongues gently exploring one another. You teasingly graze your tongue over the, unbeknownst to you, sensitive film of Miguel’s fangs.
The action causes the man to moan, and the sound travels straight between your legs.
Pulling away, Miguel touches his forehead to yours, chuckling breathlessly.
“Considering you’ve already had your opportunity, I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.”
Before you can inquire about what Miguel means, he quickly leans up and nips at your bottom lip with his fangs, licking soothingly over the plump flesh right after.
Your giggle at the action evolves into full blown laughter as you double over, jokingly pushing at Miguel’s shoulder.
“Such a tease Gigi. But sure,” you playfully flick his nose.
“You’re free to take a bite as often as you like.”
#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#spider man 2099#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#atsv#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x reader
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Inspired through a post from @little-miss-dilf-lover
I hope this is okey!
Profanities!
First time writing.
First time posting.
Tangerine and I were a mismatched pair of friends, bonded through Lemon, our shared love of books and our work of specializing in discreetly resolving... problems.
I, with my impeccable manners, refined speech, and knack for crossword puzzles, was the yin to Tan's yang - a boisterous, devil-may-care spirit who could make anyone laugh with his quick wit and infectious charm.
We sat at a table in a bustling café, the air alive with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the almost sickening sweet smell of pastries and desserts. Which Lemon was eyeing at in the glass case at the counter, all the while talking to the waitress about Thomas and his peculiar friends. Tangerine was sitting across from me, one leg leisurely on top of the other while he was typing away on his phone. Meanwhile I sipped my earl grey, enjoying the moment of tranquility amidst the chaos of our lives and trying to figure out what 11 words down for a two word, 2022 Blockbuster could be.
But tranquility was not in the cards when the scalding tea burned my tongue, prompting an uncharacteristic outburst of a loud “FUCK!” The word echoed trough the café as I slammed down the cup, accidentally breaking it in the process and letting out another delightful “Fuck!” again.
Tan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his playful grin widening into a mischievous smirk. "Well, well, well, look who's joining the dark side," he teased, sitting up in his chair, and putting his phone away in his breast pocket.
My cheeks flushed pink as I chuckled nervously. "I know, I know, it's a rare occurrence," I admitted a little sheepish feeling the weight of his playful scrutiny. "But, come on, Tan, don't act like you're not impressed," I countered, mustering up some bravado despite my embarrassment.
Tan shook his head, feigning disappointment. "Impressed? More like shocked. I didn't know I was sitting across from a, wait, what did you call me the other day, a vulgarian! No, it was a cursing connoisseur!" he retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
I rolled my eyes, unable to resist the urge to tease him back. “Oh, please I’ll leave the cussing to the experts!”
Tan grinned, leaning forward with a twinkle in his eye. “Ah, but where’s the fun in that? You’ve got to live a little, spice things up.” he countered, his tone teasing.
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of my lips. “Spice things up, huh? And here I thought I was doing just fine with my tea and crossword puzzle,” I quipped, enjoying where this was going.
And just for a short moment I could see Tangerine stare darkening and I could see this little glint in his eyes.
Wait, was that…. Desire?!
I feel a rush of heat as Tan licks his lips, a subtle gesture that sends a shiver down my spine. It's so fleeting, I almost miss it, but the effect it has on me is undeniable. A tingling sensation creeps up my legs, setting my nerves on fire. We're locked in a silent standoff, both wondering who will make the next move.
Then, out of nowhere, Lemon appears beside me, pulling us back to reality. "Hey, are you up for some Sticky Toffee Pudding? Because I got some right here!" he questions, looking at us expectantly.
My heart sinks as I whisper a silent fuck under my breath, my mind racing to reposition myself, my crossword puzzle now forgotten. Tan clears his throat, adjusting his tie “Na mate, I’m good,” while getting up he takes out his pack of cigarettes “I’ll be outside for a smoke!”
Lemon, God bless him. Oblivious to the situation doesn’t notice the change in our demeanor and sits down at the table.
I watch Tangerine as he exits the café and taking out his matches to light his cigarette inhaling his first puff of smoke. When he catches me staring, we lock eyes once more, the intensity palpable. Holding up our little staring contest I tell Lemon “You know what Lem, some Sticky Toffee Pudding sounds actually quite delicious.”
I can't help but playfully tease Tan, pursing my lips and lightly biting down into the sweet, rich and sticky cake, knowing it'll catch his attention. And catch it, it does. His eyes stay glued to mine, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as he struggles to tear himself away. His cigarette falls to the ground, forgotten, as he mouths a word, I can't hear but can easily decipher from his lips.
"Fuck."
And in that moment, while licking my lips clean. I knew the tension between us was far from over.
#tangerine bullet train x reader#bullet train tangerine#tangerine 🍊#tangerine fic#bullet train#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine x reader#tangerine#tangerine bullet train
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Omg I just got the randomest idea for a smut with Chessy, but would you be able to do a smut where Chessy catches the reader wearing one of her button up shirts with nothing but lingerie underneath and it turns Chessy on?
I love it!!! Omg I was so excited to write this when I first saw it. Chessy would so be turned on with her girlfriend wearing one of her shirts! I forgot to include Sammy in this but just pretend he’s at a friend’s house or something lol. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: ok I know I said the next prompt was Melissa angst and it was, but then got hit with writer’s block so I went to the next prompt which was this one. I’ll try again tomorrow but maybe you can request or send me some Mel angst stories to get some inspiration to my brain, lol.
Face The Consequences
Warnings: it’s basically porn with very little plot, Chessy and reader are horny af, public smut, fluff
Words: 3.47k
It was summertime and a great week to spend time outside as it’ll be sunny the whole time. So the Parker’s decide to go on a week-long camping trip, Saturday- Saturday.
Chessy immediately invited you over to stay for the entire week to which you immediately got packing and came right over and ran into the Parker’s as they were heading out.
“Oh hey y/n! How are you?” Nick said as soon as he saw you. Chessy introduced you all as the twins kept pestering her about meeting her girlfriend when Chessy told them she was in a relationship. You and Chessy have been going out for about 8 months now and it’s been wonderful.
“Hey Nick, I’m good. How are you?” You replied back.
“Good, we’re just about to head out for the week, camping. Now that the twins are done school. I had a feeling you already knew that though. Chess invited you over for the week?” He says and you nod. He looks and sees Elizabeth, the twins and Chessy walking over. “Well, have fun, and please, stick to her bed.” He says and your cheeks turn red.
“Hey y/n!” Elizabeth says to you.
“Hey Elizabeth.”
Hallie gasps when she sees you. “Y/n! You’re here!” She says excitedly.
“Hey Hal.” You say and you guys high five. “Ya I’m staying over for the week with Cheesy.” You tell them and Chessy comes over to you and she gives you a kiss.
“Hey you.” You tell Chessy with a smile.
“Hey beautiful.” Chessy says back to you and returns a smile of her own.
“Sounds like a fun time. No wonder you asked for the week off.” Elizabeth says. Elizabeth decided to open up her business in California while having a manager in London and she hired you to help her with the business here. Which is how you and Chessy met a year ago as you kept coming over to the house to finish up some work during the busy months for weddings. After you requested the week off, Elizabeth had a feeling why and decided to approve it and just close up for the week.
“Yep, thanks for approving it on short notice btw.” You told her.
“Not a problem. I figured with all the times you bailed me out of a tough moment, you deserve it.” She tells you and she puts the twins bags in the trunk. Chessy goes behind you and puts her arms around your waist and leans her chin on your shoulder.
“Awwww.” The twins tease and you scoff and roll your eyes playfully at them.
“Alright guys, everyone in. You two have fun.” Nick says, then Elizabeth and the twins get in the car. Chessy waves them off and then guides you in the house.
“Alright, what are we going to do first?” You ask Chessy and she turns to face you, cups your cheeks and pulls you in for a long kiss.
“Hmm, I missed you.” She says and you smile.
“Even though I was here yesterday?” You ask her.
“Ya but you were finishing up some work with Elizabeth for most of the day.” She says and you hum. “I feel like I haven’t gotten nearly as much time with you as I want.”
“Well it’s a good thing we got a week to ourselves then.” You tell her and she smiles and kisses you again. You pull back and look at her. “Mind if I take a shower right now? I woke up a little late since I had a hard time falling asleep last night.” You ask her and Chessy pretends to think of an answer.
“I’ll allow it if I can join you.” She says and wiggles her eyebrows and you smile and kiss her cheek.
“Of course, showers are always better with you.” You tell her and you both go upstairs.
You both have a shower, along with Chessy pushing you up against the shower wall and making out with you.
When you get out, Chessy does her thing and then leaves you to do your routine as you have more you like to do after a shower. Chessy goes to make sandwiches for you two for lunch.
You brush and dry your hair, apply moisturiser to your body and then some face cream. You go to your bag and pull out your new red lingerie bra and underwear that you got for this week. You put it on and then you see Chessy’s closet door open and see a bunch of her shirts and you go to her closet. You look at all her clothes in here and you decide to borrow one of her button up shirts. You put it on and it just covers your ass and you do up the buttons but decide to leave a few of them undone for Chessy to see the red lingerie of your bra.
You go downstairs and Chessy is just finishing up the sandwiches. She has her back to you as she’s cutting the sandwiches in two.
“Hey Chess.” You tell her.
“Hey hon. I heated up some leftover chicken breasts for sandwiches for us.” She tells you.
“So that’s what smells great.” You say and she turns around with the plates in her hands and a smile on her face. She sees what you’re wearing and her jaw drops and eyes widen at the sight. You giggle at her reaction and take one of the plates from her. You both go out and sit by the pool to eat and Chessy keeps looking over at you. She thinks you look beautiful with one of her shirts on and she knows you left a few buttons undone so she can see your red bra. “See something you like?” You tease her when you catch her staring at you for like the tenth time in 3 minutes.
“Oh you know I do.” She says, a little breathy and you smile. She’s turned on and you know it. You both finish up your sandwiches and then you bring the plates in and Chessy puts them in the sink.
She then turns around and pushes you against the counter and kisses you hard. You moan into the kiss and Chessy moves to your neck and sucks on it. You gasp as she unclips your bra even with you still wearing her shirt.
“I love the new lingerie and my shirt on you btw.” She tells you and you smile. “But at the moment it’s in the way of what I want.” She tells you and undos the buttons on the shirt. She leaves her shirt on you but has it open all the way and moves your bra down so she can put a nipple in her mouth. You gasp and put your hands in her hair. Your hands run into her classes that are propped up on her head and you take them off of her and put them on. She pulls back as soon as she feels her glasses move and looks at you with them on.
“Wow, I can see out of these.” You say as you look at her.
“That’s because they’re reading glasses you dork.” She says. “Although I’ll admit that you look sexy with them on.” She tells you and you smile.
“Oh ya? Well what if I do this?” You tell her and you bend your head down and slide the glasses down to the tip of your nose and look at her. Her breath hitched and she picked you up and placed you on the counter.
“You're so sexy.” She says and spreads your legs. “And all mine.” She tells you and all the wetness from your mouth goes right to your core. She kisses up your thighs and slides your underwear off. She yanks you forward a bit from your legs and you fall back and you’re leaning on your forearms and looking at her.
“I feel a little underdressed right now. What gives?” You tell her as she still has all her clothes on. She looks at you and smiles. She knows you love looking at her boobs as you love the size of them, so she takes her tank top and bra off and you hum at the sight.
“Better?”
“Much.” You say and she leans down, hooks her arms around your thighs and connects her mouth to your clit. You gasp out at the sensation of her hot wet tongue on your sensitive clit. She knows all the ways to make you feel good and you know you won’t last long with the speed and intensity she’s going at. About a minute later she slips two fingers in your entrance and you cry out.
Chessy can see that your arms are shaking but you want to see her the whole time so she pulls her mouth away and replaces it with her thumb. Then with her left hand, she pulls you up and holds you up with her hand on your back. She then kisses you and you put your hands on her boobs and she moans.
You’re very close and the sensation is intense, you put your hands on her back and pull her closer to you as your legs start shaking.
“Come when you want beautiful.” Chessy tells you and seconds after she says that, you come and scream out her name. Chessy slows down and then pulls her fingers out of you and goes to put her fingers in her mouth. You intercept and grab her wrist and put her fingers in your mouth and moan. She looks at you the entire time and you think she might stick her fingers right back in you right then and there. You then undo her pants and slip your hands down her pants and underwear. You feel her wetness and she’s soaking right now.
You do the ‘sexy glasses look’ again and she loses her balance for a second. You find her clit and apply pressure on it and she bucks her hips to you and moans. You slid off the counter and she rests her forehead on your shoulder and her hands grip the edge of the counter as you continue to apply pressure on her clit. You keep your left hand on her back and you go and suck on her neck. She gasps out and then you stick 2 fingers in her. She moans at the sensation and you know she’ll get weak in her legs soon so you flip the two of you around and press her up against the counter. She’s surprised by the movement and she leans back with her forearms on the counter and you go and suck on a nipple. Her legs start to shake and her breathing is heavy, you put your thumb on her clit and she comes a few seconds later. You keep going though and she cries out when another orgasm starts building.
“OMG Y/N!” She screams out.
“I got you Chess, let go my love.” You whisper in her ear and she comes again. You slow down and pull out of her and lick your fingers. Chessy takes a minute to catch her breath and looks at you.
“I won’t ever get tired of having sex with you.” She tells you and you smile. “I mean I feel like I already don’t get enough of you as is.”
“Well I feel like I don’t get enough Chessy time too.” You tell her and she smiles at you and blushes. “Btw, Nick told me that we should stick to doing it in your bedroom.” You tell her and you both laugh.
“Well that lasted all of…” Chessy cheeks her watch. “2 hours.” She says.
“Well it was only an hour last time so… progress?” You say and she laughs.
“As much as I love how you look with my shirt and glasses on, I will need them back.” She says softly and you give her glasses back.
“Glasses you can take back but this might be my shirt from now on.” You tell her and she arches an eyebrow and smiles at you.
“Oh is that so?” She says and you nod proudly. “Hm, well I guess I could live with that, even if it’s my favourite. It does look better on you anyway.” She says and kisses you. She clips your bra back and does up most of the buttons and you put your underwear back on as she puts her bra back on. She was about to put her tank top back on when Nick comes in.
“We forgot the first aid kit.” He says.
You pull the sides of the shirt close together and Chessy covers her front with the tank top and turns around to face him. “Boss!” Chessy says surprised.
He looks up and both you and Chessy’s cheeks are red. He sees you wearing Chessy’s shirt and Chessy without even a shirt on and her hair is messed up and he sighs as he grabs the first aid kit. “Y/n I literally just told you like 2 hours ago for you guys to stick to her bed.” He tells you and you bite your lip to hold in a giggle. “This isn’t something I ever expected to see.” He mutters as he walks out.
As soon as he closes the door you burst out laughing. Chessy nudges you to stop but ends up joining in. When you both settle down, Chessy puts her tank top on and wraps her arms around you and looks at you with a smile. “How about you go sit your pretty ass down on the couch, pick a movie and I’ll make popcorn?” She suggests and you hum.
“I like that suggestion.” You tell her and she gives you a kiss on the lips. “Btw, you know that even though I’m keeping this shirt, I’m burrowing other shirts of yours every day this week right?” You tell her slyly and she giggles.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” She says and you laugh. You go to walk to the couch and she smacks your ass and you let out a squeak. You stop and look at her and she just gives you a smirk.
“Cheeky.” Is all you tell her and she winks at you. Chessy makes the popcorn while you pop in a movie. When she comes over, you’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch on a pillow with your legs spread out on the couch, remote in hand, ready to press play. You lift your legs up for Chessy to sit down and she puts your legs on her lap and sets the bowl of popcorn on your lap for you to share.
You press play and set the remote down on the table. While you both eat popcorn and watch the movie, Chessy keeps rubbing your thighs. At first it was sweet but now it’s turning you on. You finish the popcorn halfway through the movie and Chessy is instantly on top of you, moving your underwear to the side and running a finger through your folds. You gasp out and immediately get more wet. Chessy smirks and kisses you then slips a finger in your entrance. You gasp into the kiss and Chessy slips her tongue in your mouth and you put your hands on her back. She puts her thumb on your clit and it has you shaking your legs in no time. You come and gasp into the kiss and then Chessy pulls out and gives kisses all over your face as you come down from your high. You giggle at her kisses and she places the final kiss on your lips.
“I had no idea you’d be so horny today.” You tell her with a laugh.
“You take my clothes and look sexy in them, then you gotta pay the consequences.” She tells you and you snort.
“I should always take your clothes then.” You say and she rolls her eyes as she kisses you again.
The next day Chessy is by the pool in her one piece and you come out with a different shirt of hers on and the sunscreen in your hand.
“Hey Chess, do you mind doing my face and back?” You ask her and she turns around to face you.
“Sure, if you don’t mind doing mine.” She says back and you nod and hand her the bottle. She squirts some on her hand and does your face carefully. She then spins you around and you undo her shirt and take it halfway off and she does your back. You put the shirt back on but leave it undone and turn back around and face her. You take the bottle and you do her face and back too. You put the bottle on a table close by and Chessy runs her hands down your sides. “Hmm, beautiful.” She says and you smile. She then gets to a ticklish spot and you flinch. “Oh, are you ticklish there?” She teases you and tickles you at that spot on both sides. You giggle and squirm and you run away and she runs after you. Being a nanny to an energetic child means that she’s quickly able to catch up to you and pulls you into her.
“Ahh.” You squeak out and you squirm in her grasp as she continues the tickle torture. Your bikini top ends up coming undone as you tied it loose and you squirming on her got it pulled and came undone. Chessy stops as your top falls off and she immediately grabs your boobs. Your giggles quickly turn into moans. Chessy’s eyes are immediately blown as she goes from tickle monster to wanna fuck you in a second. She moved one hand to your bikini bottoms and unties the straps on it too and pulls it off. She lays you down on the grass where you ended up when running away and you end up sitting on her shirt. She then hooks her arms around your thighs and places her mouth on your clit. She has you squirming again in no time, although now for an entirely different reason. She doesn’t pull her mouth away until you come twice.
She then goes on top of you and kisses your lips. While kissing, you quickly fling her straps off her shoulder and pull the swimsuit down. Her boobs quickly fall out and your mouth is on them before she can even react. She gasps and you pull the swimsuit down more to around her thighs and she takes it off the rest of the way. She sits up and starts grinding on your leg. You bolt up and go to attach your mouth to a nipple. She loves that you give them so much attention as your mouth and tongue feel so good on them. She comes on your leg with a moan not long after. You both get in the pool after and make out after splashing each other.
The Parker’s come back Saturday, just after noon and you and Chessy are sitting at the kitchen island having lunch together. They end up joining you and the twins tell you all about their week.
Later on, you all gather to watch a movie together and you and Chessy are cuddled on the couch together with a blanket on top of you as it’s a bit chilly out. During the movie, you see everyone is paying attention to the screen so you quietly undo Chessy’s pants and stick your hand in under her underwear. Her eyes widen and looks at you, but other than that she doesn’t react. She goes to grab your wrist to stop you but you quickly slip a finger in and she freezes. You discreetly finger her and you both face the screen to not give anything away.
Chessy starts breathing heavily, so she puts her elbow on the arm of the couch and puts her chin on her hand and covers her mouth to try and cover up her louder breathing. She gets closer and closer to an orgasm and you see her struggle to keep it together in front of everyone and you smirk, which does not go unnoticed by her. Oh you know you’re paying for it tonight but this is too enjoyable so it’ll be worth it. She bites her lip and keeps her mouth shut as she comes and lets out a small squeak. Thankfully it was covered by a loud sound from the movie and no one noticed.
You did end up paying for it later that night in her bed but you didn’t complain at all.
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chapter 2: Lay down with me
⭒❃.✮:▹ a Simon Riley series ◃:✮.❃⭒
- series masterlist
Two weeks went by real fast. In those two weeks you kept thinking about this stranger. You thought about Simon and something about him made you wake up interest in him. Whatever it is, that us making you be so interested in him, it has to mean something. Because you never really were immediately interested in someone. Especially if you don’t know anything about this person.
As you‘re waiting for him to appear, you think about what to do if he comes. Some part of you is convinced that he is not actually going to appear. Maybe he just said it and laughed afterwards. What if he actu-
"Hey! You really came." you hear the so familiar voice behind you. He really did appear. But as you turn to look at him, you can see that he kind of struggles to walk. Did something happen to him?
"Hey! Well you really held onto your word." you laugh "Why are you walking so strange? Are you okay?" you ask him, the worry clear in your voice.
"Yeah. Tough mission. Got shot but nothing I can’t handle." wait… so he got shot. And instead of resting, he came to see you? This strange man just raised your standard bar.
"Then you should lay down next to me. If you‘re injured then why did you come? what if something happens? Pull your stitches open?"
Simon doesn‘t answer at first. He stands next to you and slowly lowers himself down until he is sitting on his but. "Well… I wanted to see you. And I couldn’t find your social media accounts which means I couldn’t let you know." he lays down, resting his arms behind his head.
"That‘s tough…“ you whisper just so your ears could heat it. The dense forest enveloped you both. The air was clear with the earthy scent and the symphony of rustling leaves.
Simon's voice broke the long silence. "You ever wonder what it's all for?"
You turned to him, his gaze thoughtful as he stared up at the shifting foliage. "All what?"
"Life. Our purpose in this cruel world," he murmured, his words carrying the weight of his feelings. Feelings he never got to talk about. Until he met this stranger. This stranger being you. He feels like he can finally open up a bit. It feels like the wall he built up over the years are starting to fall apart and reveal himself.
You pondered his question, your thoughts intertwining with the whispering leaves above. "Sometimes... I think we're meant to find meaning in the little moments, the ones that make us feel alive."
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Like this. Just being here, sharing this moment."
"Aren‘t you scared that one day you’re going to get disappointed? In the process of trying to feel alive? What if you get hurt again?" he asks. But it’s not him actually asking this question. It’s the little Simon inside of him. The little curious Simon who is tired of seeing his parents fight. The little Simon that just wants life to give him a break. Isn’t he allowed to be like every other kid? happy?
"If you get disappointed again…" you start your sentence "Then you have to get up and try again. You cannot just sit down and never get up again just because you got hurt again. Life is about getting hurt and finding happiness. In order to find happiness, you need to get hurt." Simon doesn’t understand. How can you say all of that? Especially because life hasn’t treated you well either.
"This cannot be true" he tells you.
Suddenly an idea pops into your head. You rose from your spot, a sudden urge pulling you toward the nearby stream.
"Come on, Simon," you beckoned, extending your hand to him. "Let’s feel alive."
He hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, rising gracefully to his feet. As you reached the water's edge, you kicked off your shoes, the chill of the clear water sending shivers down your spine. Simon followed close by, his presence beside you grounding and reassuring.
The stream whispered secrets as it flowed, the sun-kissed ripples casting dancing patterns on the rocky bed. You waded in deeper, the water swirling around your ankles, refreshing and invigorating.
Simon watched you with a soft smile, the lines of worry easing from his brow as he surrendered to the simple joy of the moment. With a playful gleam in your eye, you splashed him, laughter bubbling up between you like the stream's gentle current.
"This is what feeling alive feels like. It’s cold at first but as time passes, you get used to it and everything starts to feel warm again. You feel alive." you tell him as you look him deep in the eye.
There is a silence between the two of you. A long but not an awkward silence. You don’t recall how this happened but somehow both of your lips met midway. A kiss was exchanged. Not just a normal and boring kiss. This Kiss was passionate. It felt deep, as if both of your souls are talking, trying to give both of you signs. This kiss feels so alive…
"Is this what you meant? Is this how being alive feels like?" Simon asks you with curiosity filled in his voice.
"Exactly." you whisper loud enough for him to hear.
In the quiet embrace of the forest, time seemed to stand still, the world narrowing down to just the two of you and the whispered nothings that hung in the air. With a gentle tug, Simon drew you closer, his lips seeking yours once more in a tender kiss that wanted to feel the same feeling again. and again. and again.
After a long time of kissing and being so close to each other, you gave your number to Simon and demanded that he calls you after he gets home. And he did.
unknown number
>hey, Simon here. Got home.
Y/N
>puh. For a second I thought I have to come and rescue you.
Simon
>Protective much?
Y/N
>you know it.
You couldn’t help bit giggle as you guys started to talk a little bit more about stupid things.
Oh if only your dad could see him. He would be so happy for you…
#call of duty#fanfic#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty fanfic#simon riley#cod#simon ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon ghost#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley mw3#cod mwf2#cod mw2 ghost#cod ghost#cod mw#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#call of duty ghost
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My mom just sent a message to the family group chat suggesting that my siblings download the 'For the Strength of Youth' magazine on their Gospel Library app and talked about how much the youth magazines helped her testimony growing up and like, cool. Fine. Don't know why the 'sending random spiritual thoughts in the gc' thing started out of nowhere when it hadn't been a thing for a decade but this is just another one of those, and you're ofc allowed to talk about things that are significant in your life.
I don't think sending the 'What I Did When Someone Close to Me Challenged My Faith' article right afterwards was strictly necessary though 🙃
#hi bg mutuals 👋 i'm gonna vent about this from time to time. if any mutuals dont want to see it block the 'apostake' tag#trying not to read too much into it b/c I think I did last time something like this happened#and i dont want to make an ass of myself even if neither time would actually be in front of my parents#but like...i know that they know that one of my sisters is clearly PIMO#they went through her phone a couple weeks ago and i have no idea if they read my texts w/ her#but if they did they probably saw the conversation i had with her about some of the really common shelf-breakers#and telling her to take looking into it at her own pace b/c it's scary and overwhelming#(a conversation SHE started btw)#and when i talked to my parents about the larger context of that whole situation i talked about not having space to step back#and their response was that they give plenty of space b/c they dont make her go to seminary???#that's not the same thing as letting her openly question & potentially leave the church idk what to tell you#like. besties i dont know for sure what caused it (which is NOT making things better. it just feels potentially passive aggressive)#but from my end? it sure looks like it might be a reaction to that. probably not JUST that (friends exist) but.#if you think I'm whispering anti-mormon rhetoric into my siblings' ears just ask me. i'm very much NOT doing that#i'm just. talking? to them? when and if they come to me with questions?#and not making my answer 'well there's a reason our parents raised us in the church! ☺️'#(an actual argument given in the article my mom sent)#hate it. thanks#apostake#jay rambles#ok to interact#im not challenging anyone's faith. my patience though? INCREDIBLY challenged#gotta figure out how to work my way around a 'hey please dont send spiritual thoughts to the gc *I'm in*' talk tactfully#they've been pretty chill about me leaving over-all?? at least to my face#haven't pushed me to go to church w/ them; was fine with me not visiting for easter; didnt try to convince me to not drink coffee; etc#it's just. frustrating that they're not giving my siblings that still live with them that same grace#my sister's 17 ffs#it's very possible im way overreacting to the article. but what is tumblr for if not screaming into the void#religion#mormonism
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fem!reader with a size kink and alastor just teases her about it. It starts off innocently before angel dust just teases and teases her about it until alastor decides to have fun with it.
a/n: this is prolly very ooc alastor but uhhhh this is fun sooo 🩷
word count: too many i don't even know
tags: 18+ smut nsfw, alastor has a big dick, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot, slight cervix fucking (?), teasing
alastor first notices your inclination for pointing out he's much larger than you when you're always grabbing his hand. he easily covers your hand with his and it gives you butterflies every time. you think he doesn't notice your flushed cheeks, but alastor keeps a close eye on your emotions. he likes to make little snide comments but other than that, it's mostly harmless.
it evolves into him coming up behind you and resting his arms on the top of your head with ease, barely even straightening his back to do so. "hey!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. "im not an arm rest, y’know?" alastor just laughs, tugging gently on your hair to pull your head back. your eyes meet his, and your body tenses. the look he gives you is intoxicating, the way he easily peers over you makes you want to shrink into him and let him envelop you.
"yer not?" angel chirps in, breaking you from your daydream. "coulda fooled me. thought you were a coat rack, especially the way you hang onto mr tall dark 'n handsome over there like ya life depends on it." you gasp at his words, immediately trying to put distance between you and alastor but his arm hooks around your waist. "h-hey this isn't fair..." you huff, but alastor's chest is warm against your back and it's making your head fuzzy. "you like 'em big, dont'cha sweetie?" angel snickers, enjoying the way your cheeks go bright red.
all you can do is wiggle around in alastor's grasp until he lets you flip around and face him. you waste no time in burying your face in his chest, hiding the pure embarrassment written all over it. "oh come now angel, the poor girl can only take so much." he laughs when you put your fist to his chest. "i bet she can take more than you think..... alright i'm done i swear!" angel leaves the room cackling, too proud of himself. "alastor... please..." you sigh, your face still pressed against his chest.
he lets out a soft chuckle before petting your head. "just a little friendly teasing, hm?" he steps away to give you some much needed air. "i wouldn't want to break you, my dear." alastor all but pouts, making you audibly groan. you can't take it anymore, the desire burning a hole straight through you. you grab his hand and drag him from the hotel lobby into your own room of the hotel.
closing the door to your room, you're about to speak when alastor surprises you by pinning you to the door. "you want to be broken, hm?" his voice, shrouded in static makes your skin crawl and your heart rate pick up. "i-i..." all of your confidence from earlier fades from your grasp as alastor towers over you, deep red eyes seeing straight through you. "your words, darling. tell me that you just can't wait for me to take you, to push your limits."
his breath is hot on your ear, threatening to burn you. "w-what if i can't take it?" you whisper, words shaking just as much as your body with how much adrenaline is being pumped through you. alastor's mouth finds your neck as sharp teeth gently nip at your skin. "i think that's what you're hoping for, my dear." his words end in a sharp hiss, his hips pressing you into the door. and then you finally feel it, alastor's hard cock against your body.
oh fuck.
"this is long overdue, please forgive me if my patience seems short." he mutters into your skin, barely containing himself from biting your soft flesh. with ease, alastor lifts you off the floor and begins carrying you to the bed. the effortlessness sends an ache straight to your core. laying you down, you look up at him with wide eyes. it's such a head rush, you almost don't notice how he lifts your ass up just enough to remove your shorts and panties.
your breath hitches at the realization that you're mostly bare and yet he's fully clothed. "can i..." you swallow hard, hands trailing down his body. "i-i wanna touch it... wanna hold it." alastor bites back a groan, not sure he's ever heard you say something sexier. its a frenzy to remove the remaining clothing, neither of you wanting to waste any more time.
you're practically drooling by the time alastor's cock is freed, knowing damn well that this wasn’t fitting. the head of his cock alone would probably stretch you to your limit. straddling his hips, you finally wrap your fingers around his aching cock and moan aloud. "jesus christ al..." you breathe, eyes wide while you slide your hand up and down slowly, like you're engraving it to memory. alastor's body shudders, seeing just how small your hand looks wrapped around him. flicking your thumb over his leaky slit, you smear precum down his length.
"you can play later babe, fffuck, no more though." the gravelly sound you're used to hearing in his voice seems to be doubled, anticipation swirling in your gut. alastor's hands reach around to cup your ass, and flips you onto your back. everything about alastor was overwhelming, his size, his attitude, his cock. your head spins as alastor presses the head of his cock to your entrance, you can already tell it's barely going to slide in even with how soaked your cunt is.
"i-i don't-" alastor shushes you, easing into you inch by inch. your thighs shake, and you're sure there's no way you'll be able to take it all. "ngh, alastor." you whine, the ever growing stretch starting to make your stomach hurt. "ah ah, you're doing so well darling. so tight." he sighs, watching his cock disappear into your sweet wet heat.
your eyes roll into the back of your head, his cock pressing snuggly against your cervix. "thats it, good girl." he almost wants to laugh as he pulls back out, seeing there's still a few couple of inches that aren't covered in your wetness. "we're going to have to work on this, aren't we?" you reach your hand down and feel where your bodies are connected and moan. "t-there's still that much?" and alastor does laugh this time. "don't you worry about that, we'll train this pussy to take every inch."
each thrust of his cock makes your stomach ache, and the feeling of being so full keeps pushing you closer to the edge. "s-soo big, 'm gonna..." you cry out as alastor's hands find your hips. he picks a brutal pace, you're not sure how you'll be able to walk tomorrow, but the stretch and burn of his cock forcing his way deeper and deeper has that coil in your stomach about to break.
and when you do cum, it's the most explosive orgasm you've ever felt. "a-alastor !" your vision goes black, and you almost miss the feeling of alastor's release. well, you would have missed it, but the sheer amount of seed he spills deep against your cervix is immediately leaking from your abused hole. it seeps down to your ass even, covering you in such a way you'll probably never forget.
breathing heavily, you lay comfortably still under him. alastor places a gentle kiss to your forehead before removing himself from the bed. "rest, darling. i will be right back." you’re half asleep by the time he comes back with a warm towel, and even more so when he pulls the blanket over you. he waits until you're sound asleep before he goes to shower off.
"well, i suppose i owe angel a thank you..." alastor hums to himself.
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