#drug addict reader

[samkerrworshipper]

close your eyes

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader, arsenal x reader

part 1 of beautiful girl series-> pt.2 -> pt.3

warnings: drug abuse, drug addiction, mentions of sexual assault, sexual assault, jordan and leah r broken up, basically a trauma dump, unedited, if you are not in an okay headspace this fic is not for u, based on beautiful boy

You find it hard to remember the last time you felt loved. 

Not the kind of love that people tell you everyday, no, real unconditional, meaningful, purposeful love. The kind of love where a person looks at you like you single handedly hung the stars and the moon, the kind of love where it feels like nobody could love you in the same way, the same love that shakespeare wrote poems about, the same love that you know that you could never be capable of receiving. 

You don’t really blame anybody but yourself, how could people love you, how could people want to love you? You weren’t a loveable person, in your opinion you were quite frankly the exact opposite. 

Maybe when you were eight, when you were cute and loveable, when you had cute little piggy tails and wore pink overalls and only wanted to dance and talk about unicorns. 

Maybe when you were ten and you spent every afternoon practising football in the backyard with your moms. 

Maybe when you were twelve and your only aspirations for life were to win your school spelling bee and captain england just like your mom. 

From then on, it all seemed like one big blur. 

From 12 onwards you don’t think a lot of you was lovable, hell you hardly thought eight year old you was lovable, a tiny little orphan who had seen so much of the world and yet none of it, yet your moms had spent every single day trying to make you feel like you were and it had worked. For possibly the first time in your life, you’d felt that love, like a whole galaxy revolved around you, like no matter what happened in your life, you could face it. 

It was funny how fast that feeling could fade. 

It wasn’t really that surprising that you’d seeked out something to fill the hole inside of you, or at least that’s how you saw it. 

It started at 14, when you were so consumed with all of the pain around you, the shit storm of broken relationships and the broken home that now replicated the same one you’d come from. Babies learnt to self soothe by being left to cry, teenagers learnt to self soothe through pain. 

First it was spending as much time as possible out on the pitch with your moms, every single one of your afternoons spent practising, and any minute you weren’t on the pitch it was non stop studying. 

You formed a anger for it, a pure hatred for the sport that your moms were so fond of, a sport that had brought them together and inevitably forced them apart. 

At 15 you left football behind, you focused on your school, spending every spare minute on your studies, they headaches and migraines, the stress, the anxiety, it was all good, it proved that you were trying, it filled the hole inside of you. 

When you were 15, you stopped caring. Your mama stopped caring, she moved 3 hours away for her own career, she didn’t have time to care about your school work, as for your mom, it wasn’t an easy job captaining the lionesses to a european championship, she had bigger problems then you.

When you turned 16, everything changed. Your mom tore her acl, Lia moved in, there wasn’t any room for you, let alone room for you to be loved. Your mama stopped visiting as often, only when it was necessary, for the first time in a while, you felt alone, truly alone. 

When you turned 17, you found other ways to self soothe. Babies cried for attention, out of hope that they’d find some of that love that they were missing when they were alone. Babies cried because they had no other way of conveying the loneliness and desperate need they had for whatever they were seeking. Teenagers do stupid things in search of the same thing, love, attention and in search of something. Teenagers are stupid by default, you weren’t unbeknownst to that, the eight year old version of you though would have swore six ways to sunday that you’d never behave in the way you were, out of fear that you’d end up back where you’d come from, that you’d lose the only family that had ever showed you a glimpse of love, teenage you figured there wasn’t any more love for you, it had all been swallowed up by younger you, taken before you could really understand the magnitude of that love, before you needed it the very most. 

Maybe it was the pot speaking, or the nicotine from your vape, or it was just the overwhelming cloud that always seemed to hit when you were high. It would fade eventually, it always did, all the deep emotional shit that made you want to cry would go, and you’d be left mellowed out, all of your feeling sucked out like a deep exhale, sometimes it just happened to be that you had to feel it all before you felt nothing, before the overwhelming numbness hit you and the hole in your heart was filled once again. 

You flinched at the knock on your bedroom door, you were grateful enough for the warning, it had taken a lot of convincing to your mom and her best friend before they’d finally agreed to it. 

You didn’t bother trying to hide your vape, the joint you had been smoking had been put out a couple of minutes ago. 

“Come in.”

You stayed sat on the ledge of your window, your head hanging halfway out, the cool london winter breeze making your lips numb and your face pink. 

The door opened slowly and you kept your eyes on the outside street, watching the cars drive past underneath you. 

“Hey, dinners ready if you want to come down.”

You nodded absentmindedly, avoiding Lia’s eyeline. 

“It’s freezing, close your window.”

You looked over at the swiss woman, a woman who was now so familiar in your home that you saw her more than the woman you called your mama. 

“I’m good.”

You took a deep breath, one last inhale of the chilly air before turning to face Lia and uncurling your body, standing up and walking towards the door where she was standing. 

“If you want to live in Antarctica then that’s your call.”

You try your best to suppress the eye roll, instead opting to pull your vape from your pocket and take a deep inhale, it’s not as good as the cold air but it’s something. It also helps to cover the weed scent that you’re trying to cover up. 

Lia walks behind you, shaking her head at the puff of vapour that hits her right in the face as you make your way down the stairs and into the living room and then into the dining room. 

Your mom is sitting at the table, fiddling with the cutlery and looking down at the meal that you know she most definitely did not cook. 

It was one of the only bonuses of having Lia around, when jordan left the healthy and yummy food had turned into mostly take away and food that wasn’t cooked on a stove top because Leah had learnt her lesson after the multiple calls to the fire department. 

You sat down in your normal chair, taking another hit of the vape in your hand before setting it down on the table and replacing it with a fork. 

“I thought we’d talked about no vapes at the dinner table, bubba.”

You focused down at the bowl of spaghetti that was in front of you, it was the night before a game, which meant carb loading, you’d never been fond of pasta, although you supposed that had slipped Leah’s mind in the last couple of months. 

“I’m not using it at the table, am I?”

You could feel the look of disapproval from your mother from the other side of the table. 

You pushed your fork into the pasta, searching for a meatball instead of the pasta that you were desperate to avoid. 

“Bubba I think you can put it away for half an hour every night, please.”

You pull your spare hand out of your hoodie, grabbing at the vape and slipping it into the pocket. 

You focus on stabbing the meatball that your focus has locked onto, keeping your eyes downcast and focused on locating all of the saucy balls and shoving them into your mouth as quickly as possible. 

Just as you’ve located and eaten all of the orbs that you can guarantee Lia made all by herself, your mom directs conversation at you once again, pivoting from whatever she was talking to Lia about, 

“We’re playing in Manchester tomorrow night, you’re welcome to come with us on the bus if you want, or you could go with mumma, I think she’s planning to drive up to watch the girls. The girls haven’t seen you in a while though, Lotte has been missing you, she’s been asking me about you.”

You’d distanced yourself from your moms club teammates for a multitude of reasons, but it all stemmed down to the hatred that you had for arsenal, the love that your mom had for the club, the club that took all of her time, her teammates that saw more love then you felt you did. 

“I think I'll just stay home for the weekend, mama is going to be in town anyways. Plus Maya and I were planning to do something tomorrow night.”

She was going to be in town, it didn’t mean you had plans to see her. 

“Maya? Do I know a Maya?”

You tried your best not to be annoyed at your moms sudden concern about your social life. 

“She’s just a friend.”

You could practically feel the eyebrow raise from the other side of the table.

“What were you and Maya planning on doing tomorrow night?”

You looked up for the first time, gritting your teeth.

“I don’t know, hang out, have some fun, nothing special. I want to see mama and I want to hang out with friends, is that not enough for me to stay home for the weekend,? It'll only be a night.”

You watched your mom collapse in, her eyes straying to the side to look at Lia. 

“So it’s friends now, plural? I talked to Jord yesterday, she didn’t say that you had anything planned with her for this weekend.”

You wanted to bolt upstairs back to your room, light a joint and stick your head back out of your window and enjoy the serenity that came from it, but you held strong. 

“Yes, friends, I have more than one, we’ll probably just hangout at someones house, no biggie. I haven’t talked to mama yet because I didn’t know what I was doing this weekend.”

Your moms eyebrow only raised further up her forehead, the line of hair practically melting into her hairline. 

“I was a teenager once, you think I don’t know what a hangout turns into?”

You were about to rebut, answer with some snappy answer that probably would have gotten you in more trouble than you would have wanted, but you were silenced by the swiss woman sitting to your left. 

“She’ll be fine Le, she’s smart, she’ll leave her location on, she won’t do anything you wouldn’t. Right?”

You nodded cautiously, a little bit shocked by the swiss woman’s attempt to help you out. 

“Yes, I’ll leave my location on and I’ll meet up with mama the next morning, I’ll be responsible, I always am.”

You were grasping for anything, any reason to make your mother agree. 

“Fine, but you do anything stupid, and I mean anything, then you’ll be in big trouble missy, and I want you to eat some more of that dinner, Lia puts a lot of work into feeding us.”

You swallowed the argument about your hatred for pasta, in favour of nodding your head meekly and twirling some of the noddles with your fork, forcing them into your mouth even if it made you cringe internally, it was a hard meal to swallow, but you did it for the sake of making your mother happy, something that you seemed to constantly be doing. 

Once you’d eaten half of the pasta you called it quits, walking up towards the kitchen sink and cleaning out your bowl before placing it into the dishwasher and sacking it properly before closing it up. 

You grasped for the vape hidden in your pocket, depserate for something to take the edge off from the conversation you’d had, the flavoured air providing a temporary comfort. 

You dragged your feet back up the stairs to your bedroom, locking the door behind you and turning off the lights in your room. 

Your room was cold, but you didn’t find yourself minding it. 

You checked your lock for a second time, making sure it was definitely clicked shut before sliding underneath your bed frame and reaching around aimlessly for the container that was wedged into a corner of your mattress. 

It didn’t take long for you to find it, your hand connecting with the rough plastic and pulled at it almost immediately. 

You opened the container, forcing the lid open and picking out the bag that you were searching for. 

Walking across the room in search of a card and flat surface was a mission that didn’t take long, both necessary factors found at your desk. 

You opened up the bag, the answer to all of your feeling and struggles. 

You shook a bit of the powder out of the bag, it was a routine that you’d adapted. 

You’d always had routines, at eight it had been your nighttime routine. Bath, pyjamas, toilet, bed time story, cuddles, trying to get to sleep in your own bed, inevitably sneaking into your moms bed. At 12 it had been your pre match routine, wearing your moms first arsenal jersey to bed the night beforehand, a banana and bottle of water before the game, socks, shinpads, boots and a bottle of lucozade. At 14 it was your pre test routine, cue cards with one of your parents the night beforehand, a 12 hour sleep,  a good luck hug from one of your moms and using your lucky pen. At 17 it was the little kit you kept underneath your bed, open it, find the baggy, spill enough of it onto your desk, push it into a line, take a deep breath through your nose. 

It was a routine that kept you going, one that you clung to like the oxygen you breathed in. 

When your mom tore her acl, your life changed permanently, no longer was any focus on you, it shouldn’t have really been a surprise that you’d fallen into a rougher crowd, that you’d turned to something else to help soothe the pain that had been coursing through your blood stream as everything changed around you. 

It had started with pocketing a couple of your moms post surgery meds, oxy’s, they felt good, they felt so much better than anything else you’d tried to help fix you. But they were in limited amounts and it was hard to steal pills when Lia was monitoring everything that your mom did and took. You’d made friends with the girls in the form above you, and then their friends who were older, and eventually you’d found yourself out at parties on nights when you told your mom that you were spending the night with your mama in Birmingham, it had been eays enough, she was too focused on her knee to pay much mind to what you were doing and who you were doing it with. 

There was enough money lying around the house, it wasn’t hard to find and subsequently it wasn’t hard to find somebody who was willing to give you more than you could find at the parties you where going to. 

It had felt good, like for the first time in a while you had people who you could relate to, who were dealing with the same problems as you, you felt like you’d found a somewhere that felt more like a home than anywhere you’d been before. 

The vapes had been a way to disguise it, to make your mom feel like she could control the bad things that you were getting up to, if she monitored your vape usage then why would you search for anything else? 

Self-soothing. 

You finished your routine by pushing the baggy back into its box and securing the box back into the spot it had come from, making sure that it was hidden from sight, before climbing into your bed and waiting for the proper high to hit you. 

Weed and nicotine were good, it had been where you started out, but nothing hit better than a real high, a real proper feeling that made you feel inundated with complete numbness in the best way possible. It made everything quiet, every doubt and pain in your soul quietened down and it made you feel at peace. 

You supposed it was what made drugs so addictive, specifically meth. They made a person in pain feel normal, it made an angry person feel calm, it made a sad person happier than ever, it made a person searching for everything yearn for nothing. It fixed every problem known to man and every problem man knew. 

When the high hit you felt it across your whole body, your thoughts, pain and the loudness inside of you faded, everything faded, all you felt like was a body, devoid of everything besides the body you were inside of. To you, it was the best feeling in the world, it was a feeling you’d been searching for since you were a kid, when you’d felt so alone and unloved that you would have sold all of your internal organs if it meant that you could have felt the same amount of nothingness that you were in this very moment. 

You would lie awake for hours riding it out, staring up at the ceiling of your room, studying the different ridges and bumps across the white plaster. Once upon a time it had been blue, with white clouds all over it, little stars and rainbows across it, when Jordan had moved out you’d forced your mom to cover it up, it was just another reminder of the love that you’d once found in your house miraculously fading away. 

It normally took a few hours for the initial high to fade, for the endorphins and adrenaline pinging around in your bloodstream to calm down for you to be able to drift off to sleep, you didn’t really mind, you were used to it. Once upon a time it was the same feeling you’d gotten when your moms would smile at you, or when you would step off a football pitch after 90 minutes, or when you’d get a good score from one of your exams. Once upon a time it had all been organic, it had been natural, now it was all forced, a chemical reaction that your brain craved. 

Somewhere around 4am you drifted off, it was convenient because it meant you’d be dead asleep when your mom and Lia left for the training ground, saving you from the interaction with the two of them.

You awoke around 12 o’clock, you dragged yourself downstairs and into the kitchen, enjoying the emptiness that surrounded you. At your mama's house there was Blu, and for some reason it always felt more crammed. At your mom’s house everything was open, quiet, tucked away. It was the way you liked it, plus she was gone more often with media commitments and Arsenal playing in the Champions League, so it meant you were home alone most of the time. 

You chugged your coffee like it was your first drink in days, groaning when your mom’s contact started buzzing up in front of you. 

“Mom?”

You tried your best to sound awake, you don’t think your efforts were very successful. 

“Hey bubba, how’d you sleep?”

You didn’t really think your mom actually cared about how you’d slept, more like it was a conversation buffer. 

“Fine.”

You could hear the sound of your mom’s teammates in the background, a couple of months ago you probably would have been there with her, nowadays there was nothing you wanted less. 

“Good. Look, I talked to Jord this morning, she’s going to come and hang out with you tomorrow until we get back, she should be around in the morning.”

The same anxiety that always seeped through your mom’s voice when she talked about her ex was easy to detect, like she was nervous to utter her name or mention her. 

“Cool.”

You wondered why she hadn’t just left it up to you to organise something with your mama, but you supposed you hadn’t been great at that recently. Jordan’s number was something you had a aversion to. 

“Which means I want you home before 1am, and I want you to be sensible tonight, your mama is very excited to see you tomorrow and I don’t want you being a dickhead or being dead to the world, You’ll be polite and spend time with her, understood?”

She made it sound like an assignment, like you had to be on your very best behaviour, like you had to put on a show for Jordan. 

“Whatever.”

You heard a huff of annoyance from the other side of the phone, it was a sound you’d gotten used to, Leah used it frequently. 

“Don’t whatever me, bubba please, Jords is really looking forward to it, she’s been feeling a bit left out by you recently so please for me, just try your hardest to be good for her. Be safe tonight, I know you and your friends like to have some fun but just stay safe, if you need anything don’t hesitate to send me a text or a call, I love you bubba.”

It felt empty, like your heart, like everything around you, like something she had to say. 

“I love you too mom.”

The call fizzled out and you let a deep breath that you’d been holding in go, you did love your mom, it just didn’t feel like she loved you anymore. 

You went about your day in a haze, your friends were due to come to yours before the party around 5 o’clock, so you had some time to yourself before then, time you were undoubtedly planning to do not a lot with. You tried watching tv, tried organising and cleaning your room, none of it took off the edge, none of it made the world silent like you needed. 

It had all started with parties, a way for you to get out of your comfort zone, a way to make parties a little bit more enjoyable. Now you craved them to make your life more enjoyable, to make it all a little bit more bearable. 

It was all one big routine. 

For a while you throught it was getting better, everything was solving itself. You’d lie awake in your bed at 3am, riding out the last bits of your high and you’d realise that it wasn’t, that there was no solution to solve what had gone wrong with you and made you so fucking unlovebale. 

You knew your existence wasn’t eays, hell Jordan and Leah had adopted you when you were at rock bottom, and they’d still found a way to love you, to make you loveable, but you figured somewhere along the way they’d run out of things about you that were loveable. 

You weren’t normally someone who got high during the day, but you were home alone and figured why not, you’d been taking them at night for months now, what would a day time fix change? Everything felt better when you were riding on a high. 

You spent the rest of your afternoon sat on your window sill, counting the cars as they drove past. When your friends came around at 5 o’clock you were ecstatic, hurrying down the stairs as fast as your woozy body would allow you. 

You had friends that your moms met and friends your moms didn’t, these were the ones you were yet to introduce to Leah. 

You didn’t think that she would approve of the friends that you hung out with when she wasn’t around, especially considering they were quite a bit older than you. 

There were benefits to it, they bought you alcohol they could drive you around, they were smarter then the kids your age. 

Maya, Olivia and Scarlett were nice enough, a little bit stupid but it didn’t bother you too much, you were all like minded, you liked to have fun and party, with the assistance of some recreational substances. 

None of them batted an eye at your clear intoxication, pushing a bottle of something or another into your hands before walking with you up to your room to start getting ready. 

The drink burned as it made it’s way down your throat, it was therapeutic, a reminder that while you felt disconnected from your body because of the drugs, you were still present. 

You let one of the girls do your makeup, packing your face until you looked well over the age of 17, then allowing one of them to sort through your monstrosity of a closet until they found a cute corset top and skirt. Leah Williamson was a lot of things, a fashionista being one of them and that had always carried through to your wardrobe. You were more than equipped with clothing for every occasion known to man. 

By the time you’d downed your first drink of the night the euphoria was starting to hit and you were starting to feel good. 

By the time your second drink had been downed you were being thrown into a car and were on your way to the party, sharing a joint with Liv who was sat in the back seat with you, the two of you occasionally shotgunning the smoke or blowing a puff at eachother. 

It was good, it was relaxing, it was what made you feel at peace.

Pulling up to the party was a whole different kind of feeling. 

You didn’t know who’s party you were at, who’s house, where it was, it didn’t matter to you, not really, all you cared about was having a good time by your standards. 

You flicked your phone onto silent, desperate to avoid any contact from anyone, instead focused on the spectacle around you as you stepped into the threshold. 

Maya introduced you to someone she went to school with, a man that looked like he was nearly as far gone as you felt. You smiled at him, giving him a hug and nod, trying to rush the introduction so you could get a drink in your hand and take a seat. 

“You’re quite cute aren’t ya, how old are you sweetheart?”

You looked across at your friend, curious as to whether you should lie or not, she nodded her head and you took it as approval. 

“17.”

His smile only grew, his head cocking to the side. 

“A youngin? I’m sure we’ll have some fun tonight, the young ones always know how to go harder, whaddya like, sweetheart?”

You tried your best not to appear uncomfortable, even if his attention was putting you off a little bit. 

“She’ll take whatever, although she has been having some fun with ice recently, she likes her vape and some molly sprinkled in with it.”

Matt slapped you on the back, his smile only growing. 

“Definitely a fun time then, I’ll catch up with you later sweetheart, I reckon I have something you might like, head on in guys, I’ll catch you later.”

It wasn’t a big house, it wasn’t small either though, it was full enough that it probably seemed smaller than it truly was. 

There were people everywhere, which surprised you considering it was only early, not that you minded, it was more convenient anyways. 

You were dragged to a couch with your friends, they were less far gone than you and almost immediately were sniffing up lines of whatever was on the coffee table in front of you. 

There was so much happening around you that you struggled to understand it all fully, there were puffs of smoke coming from every direction, needles being handed around, different pills being popped, lines being sniffed. It was the kind of environment you liked to think you’d come to flourish in, it made you feel more relaxed then anywhere else on the planet. 

You relaxed into the couch, enjoying the spectacle around you and subconsciously taking hits of your vape as you watched the splendour occur around you. 

There wasn’t a single legal thing about it, but you didn’t care, there was a cold drink in your hand and the scent of pot and vapour surrounding you, it was the best place to be on the planet. 

The night slowly started to fade into a blip as you made your way through more drinks, your body surrendering to the feeling of the alcohol coursing through you and the high slowly starting to fade. You were cautious of the fact that you needed to be home at a certain time, you didn’t want to push your mom’s wishes, you were also aware that you could manage another shoot up before getting yourself home. 

“Oi, where can I find some meth.”

Maya had headed somewhere with some boy she knew from highschool and Olivia had left in search of a spot to smoke, leaving you and Scarlett. 

“Go find Matt, he’ll hook you up.”

With legs like jelly and a swaying head you stood up from the couch, your vape clutched in one hand and empty bottle in the other. It didn’t take a lot of searching to find the man you’d been introduced to earlier, he was sat on a couch, a girl on either side of him, who both looked about as far gone as they could get without being passed out. 

“Pretty girl, what can I do for you.”

You didn’t like the way the term of endearment slid off of his tongue so easily, in almost a condescending way. 

“Do you have meth?”

You didn’t care if you were being too straight forward, you were itching for something to get you back 0onto the high that you’d been riding out for the past couple of hours. 

“I do, but it’ll cost ya.”

You rolled your eyes, money was hardly a problem for you. 

“I’ve got money.”

His head cocked the same way it had earlier. 

“I don’t want your money sweetheart, c’mon, I’ll get you some meth.”

The same slippery term of endearment that made your throat hurt. He shook the two girls off of him, standing up with a lot more composure than you and beginning to walk out of the lounge room you were in and towards the staircase. You followed him up, holding onto the banister with everything you had and trying to keep up with him as the both of you arrived at the top and he began walking down a corridor, until he made it to the end and opened up a door. 

You assumed it was his bedroom by the looks of it, which made you uncomfortable slightly but you accepted the fact you were craving a fix and he was potentially the only person who could supply it in this moment. 

He rummaged through a bedside draw, until he pulled out a syringe and a bottle of what you assumed to be dissolved crystal meth. You’d always kept your distance from needles, it gave you a better high but it was harder to hide and harder to deal with, the powdered form was the least complicated. 

You could feel your heartbeat pick up as he beckoned you over, patting for you to sit down on the edge of the bed. You walked over, taking a seat on the bed and watching with curiosity as he prepared the needle, and took your arm in his, securing a rubber tourniquet around your bicep and feeling your skin for a vein. Once he found it he picked the needle up, filling it with a couple of mls of the liquid before bringing it up to your arm, gently inserting it into the vein, sucking in a bit of your blod and watching the red swirl with the drug mix before pushing down on the syringe and inserting it into your blood stream. 

It was immediate validation, your head dropping back with ecstasy as the drugs infiltrated your body. 

“Feels good doesn’t it, sweetheart.”

You nodded your head, enjoying the sensation of the lingering sting as the needle was pulled from your arm and the tourniquet was untied. 

His hands were on your chin, tilting your head up so you were looking at him. 

“Now, I think it’s time I get my payment, hmm?”

You took one last breath, enjoying the validation of your high. 

“I told you I have money.”

He shook his head and with the smirk on the corner of his lips you couldn’t help but feel slightly worried. 

“No, I prefer my payment other ways.”

Even with the alcohol and drugs running through your veins, you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach immediately. 

You were suddenly frighteningly aware of your position, and undeniably feeling a little bit scared. 

“What way?”

You didn’t like how your voice wavered, your age becoming more obvious as you struggled to stomach the different thoughts going through your head. 

“I’ll show you.”

His hands moved to your hair, dragging you off the corner of the mattress and onto your knees below him. 

You tried to dissasociate it, tried to dissasociate as his hands fell to his belt buckle and fly, tried to disassociate so you didn’t have to think about the million no’s that were banging against your skull and leaving your lips as his fly came undone and he let his pants drop to his feet. 

You’d never really expressed your sexuality, you hadn’;t felt the need t, both of your moms were gay, so were most of their friends, you knew no matter who you were dating they’d be happy for you, you knew that whatever this was though you didn’t want it. 

With your weary head and drugged up body there wasn’t much fight you could put up as he opened your jaw for you and forced his way inside of you 

You tried your hardest to dissasociate like you’d taught yourself, thinking about the high, thinking about the drugs, thinking about your moms, thinking about everything in your life that had once loved you and you’d once loved the same. Normally it worked, normally you trustd yourself to get you to that safe space that made you feel like no matter what was happening you could deal with it, you just couldn’t get it to work though, there were tears streaming down your face as his hands stayed planted in the roots of your hair, the hair a couple of hours ago that your friends had been curling and working on whilst you’d all be laughing. 

He didn’t last long, that was something you were grateful for. 

As soon as his hands left your hair you were bolting up from the floor, walking as past as your weary legs would let you before anything else happened that you couldn’t stop. 

You catapulted your way down the same stairs you’d marched up happily, not paying any attention to the people in the background as you pushed your way out of the front door, breathing in the freezing london air and clinging to the freshness of it and how it cooled the pain in your throat. 

You didn’t hesitate calling the uber, the tears on your face spraying down onto your phone screen as you tried your hardest to focus on the task at hand which was getting home and getting as far away from this as possible. 

You didn’t care that your mom could track your uber account, you didn’t care that there were thirty unread texts from both of your moms and a couple of phone calls, all you cared about was getting home to your bed and doing whatever it took to forget about what just happened. 

The uber was quick enough, you practically threw yourself into the back seat, trying to calm yourself down, but failing miserably. 

If your uber driver noticed then he didn’t comment on the fact that you were practically hyperventilating in his backseat. 

The car ride home was quicker then you thought it would be, you were so grateful it was an away game night, that you didn’t have to deal with anyone, but you were also secretly crumbling about the fact that you were all alone, that you had been all alone in that room with him, that you had no one to stop him and couldn’t do anything about it. 

You were hardly steady on your legs as you unlocked the door with your keys and swayed your way into the living room and then towards the stairs, finding the incline slightly jarring but desperate to get to your room and bed so you could sleep of the horrendous feeling in your gut. High be damned, alcohol be damned, all you wanted was to be asleep, so you partially forget about all of this and hopefully it would fall victim to all of the endorphins in your head and be permanently removed from your brain. 

Your room was cold, your window still open, you didn’t care. 

All you cared was getting out of the too tight clothes you were in and getting into your bed. 

You pulled at the corset, unbothered when you heard the seam ripping as you tugged at it, your skirt was easier. You flung a hoodie and pair of pyjama pants onto your body before climbing straight under your covers, your body shaking. You weren’t sure whether it was because of the high or because of the incessant hatred that had grown in your chest at the memory replaying over and over in your mind. 

You clutched onto your vape, holding it in your hand and sucking up hit after hit as you tried to find solace in the flavoured air, hoping it would send you off to sleep. 

You woke up with a headache like no other, your whole body hurt, and to the sound of repetitive banging at the front door downstairs. 

You groaned out, annoyed at every single part of you for what had happened last night. 

Your legs were still wobbly as you clawed your way out of your bed, your legs protesting with every single step you took, out of your room, down the stairs, to the peephole at your door. 

Jordan, fuck. 

You supposed in your haze it hadn’t been hard to forget about your mother’s appearance for today, you’d been trying desperately to forget so many other things that it must have slipped your mind. 

You didn’t want to open the door, but you also knew you had to, so with every last piece of strength that you had in your body, you pulled the door open.

[toxicanonymity]

The Raid, Part 2.

panty-dropping javi art by @bonezone44

8k words | dark!javi x f!reader x dark!steve | The Raid SUMMARY: Javi and his partner get you settled in. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon (captivity & more), kidnapping, drugs, mild withdrawal, manhandling, sharing, degradation, praise, homoerotic tension, thigh fucking, somnophilia (javi), p in v (steve, but Javi's involved), orgasm denial, cumplay, size kink if you squint, mfm adjacent, hillbilly cock. Javi & Steve RECS: Lie Still by @milla-frenchy , Crossing Lines by @lunitawrites , Helping Hands and Polaroids by @clawdee , You can be the boss by @girlboybug . TY all!! A/N: Could've been 2 parts (4.4k/3.6k) so there's a divider (ty @cafekitsune) if you want 2 reads. Ty @debbiequinn for your sleep thot and @ghoulettesinspace for your styling thots. Tagged people who asked for part 2 at the end.

✨NEXT: Javi isn't home - Steve PWP.

The DEA has left the scene, aside from Javi and his tall, blonde partner. The partner managed to catch your (ex) boyfriend while Javi was “supervising” you. Javi has given his men a talking-to and told them you were never there.  With a strong grip on your arm, he's dragged you to a Ford Bronco where he's now forcing you into the back seat. 

"My shirt," you beg. 

Javi shrugs mercilessly. "Should've put it on before you ran." He glances at your bra before beginning to shut the car door. 

He and his partner talk outside the car. Javi stands with his hands tucked into the top of his vest. The taller man leans with one hand just above the back seat window and his other hand on his hip. He ducks down to look at you, but doesn't acknowledge you. He asks Javi, "You sure we need to be drivin' around with her half dressed?" 

"What'd I say?”

The blonde agent holds his hands up in mock defense. “No Carrillo, no questions." He walks around front to the driver's seat. You have a better view of him once he's seated. He's strong, like Javi. He has a thick mustache, too.

Javi gets in the passenger seat and puts on a voice like he's teaching a class and would rather be anywhere else. He addresses you by name, then says, "This is Steve Murphy." 

Steve nods in the rear view mirror, and your eyes meet. Then he turns on the engine and asks Javi, "safe house?" 

Javi tilts his head back and smooths his mustache. “Mm,” he contemplates.

Steve offers, "I'll head to the closest one."

Javi answers, "No. My place."

"Yours?" 

"Yeah, you know, the place I live? Right downstairs?" 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Alright." After a few moments of silence, Steve asks, "informant?" 

"Eh," Javi ponders. "We'll see."  He puts a cigarette in his mouth, then takes the cigarette lighter out of its socket and lights up. Javi reaches down to crank the window open a little more, then exhales, aiming the smoke outside. He asks, "We need to worry about Romeo?" as he hands the cigarette to Steve. 

“Nah,” Steve replies as he accepts the cigarette. He looks at the tip of the filter and takes one puff before handing it back to Javi. Steve exhales out the window, then reaches back and puts his hand behind Javi's seat to put the car in reverse. 

"Nah,” Steve repeats. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that dumbass. . .Told him we'd fuck her in front of him, know what he said?”

“What?” Javi asks, bemused. 

“He said go ahead."  You’re not surprised. 

"Ouch," Javi pretends to sympathize, then looks back to check on you. "Sorry, sweetheart."

—-

Once they get you to the apartment, the first thing they do is take you to the bathroom. You have to walk through a bedroom to get there. In the middle of the bedroom, there's a bed with leather restraints. It makes your stomach turn to look at. 

Steve’s eyes fixate on it and he asks Javi, "You kept this stuff?"

Javi retorts, "Where'd you think it went, the Salvation Army?” 

Javi pauses to take off his tactical vest.  “Let’s wash that place off her.” 

“C’mon,” Steve gently urges you by the arm toward the bathroom. You go in the restroom and stand, awkwardly awaiting instructions. You lean your back against the wall and the handcuffs drag.

Steve plugs the drain and turns on the water. Javi walks in, takes out the keys and uncuffs you. Steve retires to the doorway and leans against it, tucking his hands into the top of his tactical vest and watching. He seems to take up the whole frame. 

There's a toilet next to the bathtub/shower combo. Javi closes the lid and sits down, facing you, and manspreads in his tight jeans. His shirt is stained with sweat, and the glimmer of a gold chain catches your eye on his tan chest. Javi pats his thigh closest to the tub. You sit on his thigh, facing the door and Steve. Javi strokes your face, and you look down at the floor, cheeks warm, heart racing. 

“It’s okay,” Javi tells you, “Vamos a ponerte limpia y lista para una vida nueva.” (We’re gonna get you clean and ready for a new life). He unclasps your bra and you let it fall off into your lap. Javi tosses it to Steve, saying, “Check the closet out there.” 

Javi reaches over to feel the water, then rests his large hand between your shoulder blades.  “Now take off your pants.” He gives you a gentle push out of his lap. 

You stand again and remove your pants. Javi stays seated.

You’re cowering with your arms in front of you, but Javi beckons you with a hooked finger. You come to stand between his knees. He nudges your inner elbows and you let your arms fall out of the way. 

“Good girl,” he mutters, not taking his eyes off your tits. His hands come to your chest without even a glance to your face. He lightly massages your breasts until both nipples are erect. He slots both his hands under your armpits and thumbs your nipples, then slides his palms down to your hips where he hooks his thumbs into your panties and keeps going, bringing them down to the floor. 

Steve comes back from the closet and sets some clothes on the bathroom counter. 

Javi looks over and tells him, “Keep Carillo off my back for a while.” 

Steve nods and leaves. “Hasta luego!” he shouts with an American accent on his way out. 

Javi chuckles and shakes his head. 

-

Javi eyes the water level of the tub and turns off the faucet. “How do you feel?” he asks you with kind eyes. 

“Fine,” you mutter without meeting his gaze. 

He extends his hand for you, and you hold it for balance. You dip a toe in and it’s lukewarm. “Get in.” He nods toward the bath and you do. He takes off his shoes and socks and puts them outside the door, then cuffs his jeans. 

“How’s the water?” He asks then reaches under the sink, and you watch his ass strain his pants as he gets a bath poof. 

“Uh, good.” Your answer echoes off the tile. 

He sits on the side of the tub and uses a light orange bar of soap to make some lather, then scrubs you. He holds you with one hand for leverage while he scrubs you with the other. He starts with your arms, and your neck. He's not gentle. 

“Ow,” you mutter at one point.  

“Ay, pobrecita” (poor little girl). “You're going to feel so clean,” he reassures you. He makes you lift your arms. Then each leg. The tub squeaks under you as you scoot forward. He scrubs your legs and between your thighs. He does your breasts and your back. His arm muscles flex with his effort. When he leans over you to reach your other side, his back muscles strain his shirt and his gold chain escapes from his collar, revealing a little cross on it. 

“You’re bottoming out,” he mutters. 

“Huh?”

“In life.” He pauses and makes sure you're looking at him as he explains this. “It’s a good thing. Know why?” 

You stare at him vacantly.

“Once you hit rock bottom, you go back up.” 

You look away, and your cheeks burn. You get it, he found you at a low point, he doesn’t have to rub it in. It doesn't feel great. 

Javi washes your stomach and downward. He gets close to your intimate parts, but he's clinical about it. He gets you up on your knees and scrubs your bottom. He flattens his hand and slides the side of it down your crack, making you gasp with an unexpected rush of warmth to your core. 

Your skin feels almost numb in some areas by the time he's done bathing you. Then he lathers a softer sponge and washes you more gently.  He drains the tub and takes his time lazily rinsing you. When he's finished, he turns on the shower and tells you to make sure he got it all. 

Once you’re squeaky clean, he dries you off with a pale, yellow, threadbare towel. He inspects the clothes on the counter. It’s a Hawaiian shirt much too large to be Javi’s. Some pants, too, but he only puts the Hawaiians shirt on you. You eye your underwear on the floor, but Javi bends down and snatches it up before you have the chance to collect it. 

“I’ll start some laundry,” he offers.

—. . .----

Javi makes pork and beans for dinner. While you’re eating, someone jogs up the stairs outside. “Steve’s right upstairs,” Javi tells you. “Ever need anything and I’m not here, just yell.” He takes a bite of his beans. “He’s a better cook, too,” he smiles with his eyes. 

During a quiet moment, you’re startled by the sound of a woman moaning from upstairs. You look up at the ceiling. 

[ohhhh, she whines. give it to me.]

“Just a porno,” Javi tells you with a smirk. 

“So,” He studies your face. “What did you want to be when you grew up?” 

“You make it sound like my life is over.” 

“No, there’s still time,” he shrugs. 

You refuse to answer. 

[upstairs, a man’s voice joins in. oh yeah, take it, baby.]

Javi tries, “Favorite color?” 

You don’t answer that either. 

[yeah, just like that]

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ve got all the time in the world to get to know each other.” 

“You can't keep me here forever, if that's what you're trying to do.”

Javi’s eyebrows knit in concern. "Oh, sweetheart.” With sad eyes, he asks, “You really think someone will report you missing?" 

"I have a job," you protest. 

“Oh,” he sounds fakely impressed. “Well. . . Be a good girl, and I'll get you a better one.”

Upstairs, a deeper, clearer voice sighs, “Ohh, fuck,” making you squeeze your thighs together. That has to be Steve. It sounds like him. 

[Steve sighs and grunts over the faint sounds from the television.] 

You bite your lip and look away. 

Javi lowers his head and raises his eyebrows at you. He reaches for your face and smirks as he makes you look at him. “Like what ya hear?” Blood rushes to your face. He chuckles as he lowers his hand. 

[A long groan from Steve.]

Oh, wow. You wonder if Javi will notice the wet spot under you. You take a deep breath. When you regain your focus, he’s studying your eyes with an amused sparkle in his.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he nods, then pats your cheek. 

“He’s a good guy,” Javi adds, then looks upward in thought. He tilts his head back and forth as though debating himself. “Kind of.” He pushes a glass of water toward you. “Drink.”

—-

When it’s time to sleep, Javi takes you to the bedroom you walked through on the way in. He watches your face as you eye the bed with its restraints. 

“You’ve been pretty good so far,” Javi muses. “Maybe we don’t need this yet.” 

“Please,” you beg. “I promise I’ll behave.” 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

“Fine.”

“Alright, then. I’m not sure if you’ll like the other option much better, though.” 

He brings you to his room and heads toward the closet, which rolls open with a four-panel door. you wouldn’t really mind sleeping in Javi’s bed with him, but that’s not what he has in mind. He pulls out an old futon mattress with a striped fitted blanket and throws it on the floor.  “You can choose where to sleep, how’s that?”

“Here,” you answer without hesitation and he chuckles. 

“Muy bien, pobrecita. But I *am* going to have to secure you.”  He takes his handcuffs out and cuffs one to a radiator under the window. Then, with his foot, he pushes the futon mattress over to it.  

“Really?” You ask. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“I believe you. But you need protection from yourself right now.” 

His bed has plenty of room for both of you. He’s just being an ass. 

-

Javi lets you watch television, sitting side by side with him on his sofa. He periodically looks at you skeptically, as though wondering if you’ll make a run for the door, but you don’t. It sure has been a long day. You yawn. 

“Ready for bed?” Javi asks. 

You nod. 

There’s a knock at the door. 

It’s Steve. He’s come by to drop off a couple of bags. One is from the grocery store. Javi steps into the breezeway to talk for a couple of minutes. When he comes back in, he brings the grocery bag to the table and puts the others aside. In the grocery bag, there are brand new toiletries for you, including a toothbrush. 

Javi takes you to the bathroom and watches you while you brush your teeth, then he brings one of the other shopping bags into the bedroom. There’s a nightgown. The material is thin and it’s on the shorter side. Not exactly modest. Javi puts it on you, and at least it’s more comfortable than whomever’s shirt you were wearing. 

He gives you a thin pillow and pats the mattress for you to lie down. He cuffs you to the radiator. Then he goes to another room and comes back with a blanket. He tucks you in. 

“If you need to go to the bathroom or anything, just wake me up, okay?” He moves your wrist to clank the handcuffs on the radiator in demonstration. “I hope tonight won’t be bad, but you might start to feel sick, or get chills. That’s normal okay?” 

You nod.  

He pats your head affectionately and bids you goodnight. “Sweet dreams, mi pobrecita.” He goes to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. When he comes back in the room, you try not to watch him, but you hear him rustling around near the bed. You tilt your head up enough to steal a quick glance, and he’s taking off his shirt. He doesn’t get in his bed right away, but eventually you hear the mattress creak. 

—--

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling a little queasy, but you’re unsure if it’s the circumstances, the beans, or the detox. You can’t tell if you’re hot or cold, but this sleeping arrangement is not doing you any favors. You don’t want to wake Javi up, but the night feels like it might last forever otherwise. You rattle the cuffs against the metal. 

“Ay, pobrecita,” he whispers. “Okay, I’m coming.” He gets out of bed. 

He approaches you, barefoot. As soon as he kneels down, he mutters, “Ay, cabrón” (oh, bastard) under his breath and returns to his nightstand for the key. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures you when he comes back. He uncuffs you. As you sit up, he helps you with a warm hand on your back. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Javi responds as if he didn’t handcuff you to a radiator. 

As he helps you up from the floor, something brushes your thigh and makes you tingle. Your body knows what it is before you do. When you register what grazed your leg through his sleep shorts, your face heats up and the tingle turns into a throb. Javi walks you to his bathroom with one arm around you in case you have trouble. He takes you all the way to the toilet. “You good?” he asks. 

“Yeah, do you mind if I?”

“Sure.” He backs up into the doorframe, but he doesn’t close it. You glance over, and he’s not hiding the massive tent in his shorts. He’s not shy about it at all. He’s also not trying to do anything about it. “Alright, I’ll be right here.” He closes the door halfway and stands outside. You sit there for a few minutes on the cool tile in front of the toilet. The urge to be sick has passed. He peeks his head in to check on you. “How about some water?”

“Okay,” you nod. He comes in and helps you up, hard-on still blazing. He takes an empty, upside-down glass from his clean bathroom counter, fills it up, and hands it to you. You’re aching at the silhouette of his length just casually standing at attention. It takes all your energy not to look right at his shorts. 

“Good girl,” he gently palms the back of your head. 

You try to look anywhere but down. You focus on his bare chest. His chain drapes over his collar bone and sits above his strong, golden pecs. There’s a light smattering of dark, soft hair. And then, lower, a happy trail.  You yank your eyes away. You look at the counter: A brush, a comb. Maybe he does his mustache with that. You look at his hair. It’s messy, out of place. Bedhead looks good on him. He casually rakes his hand through it when he sees you looking. Your gaze drifts back to his body. It’s really a beautiful torso you’re looking at. Broad shoulders, strong arms, narrow waist. A hint of abs under the light padding of his flesh. 

“You okay?” he asks with his puppy dog eyes, which gives you an idea.

“Yeah.” You look up at him, widen your eyes, and let your face fall. 

He nods. “Back to bed?”

You hold your wrist as if it hurts from the cuff and nod sadly. You check his shorts in the corner of your eye–yeah, it’s still there, as commanding as ever. The tent bobs as he walks. He walks you back into the bedroom and pauses at your futon mattress on the floor. He reaches for your hand and holds it as his other thumb brushes the indentation on your wrist. 

“You’re sure you don’t want the bed?” He nods toward the other room with the restraints. 

“I’d love a bed, but no. That one’ll give me nightmares, I’m sure.” 

He nods thoughtfully. “Are you asking to sleep in *my* bed?” His thumb continues to brush the indentation from the cuffs. His light touch gives you butterflies. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him and your hand joins his, on your wrist. His thumb freezes. Your fingers rest lightly on top of his. “I guess I’m okay down there.” You glance at the mattress on the floor.  

His bare chest rises with a deep breath. “You’re being such a good girl,” he marvels with your hand on his. “Come on. It’s okay.” He guides you to his bed and pauses when you’re right in front of it. He faces you and puts his hands on your shoulders. He dips his head and his tone darkens. “But if you leave this bed, things are going to change here,” he warns. “And you’re not going to like it.” He shakes his head. The gentleness of his voice and the look on his face sends a chill down your spine. 

-

Javi gets into his bed, under the covers. He lays on his side and makes room for you, albeit not much. “I still have to restrain you,” he informs you as you lie down. “Do you want the cuffs or my arm?”

“Your arm.”

“Good girl.” He extends one arm and raises the other, making room for you.

You scoot back against him, mentally bracing yourself for what awaits under the covers. You're already twitching before you feel it. He inhales sharply as the hardness in his shorts hits you. With a hand on your lower abdomen, he pulls you into him, and his stiff length presses against you.  

“I’m sure that’s not going to bother you, is it?” he asks and your breath hitches. You shake your head just barely on the off chance he wanted a real answer. But it is, it's going to bother you as long as he won't put it in you. You’re human, you can’t help it. He’s a bad person but you can only imagine what a good lay. He curls his strong, lean body around you like a big spoon, and he nestles the warm rod in his shorts against your crack.

One bicep is under your neck. His other arm settles over your waist. You don’t need to test his strength to know his arm is solid. Heavy. There’s no escaping as long as he holds this position. 

He inhales your hair, and the hand in front of you cups your breast through your thin nightgown. He slowly palms your breast, and lightly grinds against you. You can’t help but push back on him. The shape of his arousal against you makes you salivate. 

He whispers just above your ear.  “Sure do love cock, don’t you?”

As he thrusts against you at a slow, steady rhythm, his hand slides off your breast, down your gown, sliding over your stomach and down to the fleshy triangle where your thighs meet. His hand stays flat. He doesn’t dig between your legs. He gently presses your mound, bringing you back against him harder as his cock throbs even harder against you. 

“That can be a good thing for recovery,” he offers. “You need something to replace that high.”

He thrusts against you slower, lighter. It’s excruiating. “Mmm.” He begins to gather the nightgown’s fabric into a fist, raising the hem of the gown and exposing more of you to the air between the sheets. No underwear. 

His hand rests on the bare skin of your lower abdomen, then slides down just low enough that his middle finger can tease your most sensitive place. He slides further down until his middle finger reaches the pool between your legs and he growls almost silently. He begins to move his fingers between your legs. Slowly, expertly, leaving his thumb and pinky braced on your front. The movement is just enough to drive you crazy. His index and middle fingers slide through your dripping folds and apply pressure to your swollen bud, moving to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts against your crack. 

“Mm,” your moan is barely audible.

“Ohh, I know,” Javi coos reassuringly. “I know.” He ruts against you slowly. He sighs as he moves against you. The heft of his arousal pushing against both asscheeks makes you weak. If only he’d just stuff your pussy. You can hardly stand it. He must feel you gush on his fingers. “Oh, yeah,” he whispers into your hair. His throbbing erection grinds against you. His hand leaves your cunt and you feel cold, exposed. He pulls down the waistband of his shorts, then his hand–wet fingers and all–slightly lifts your thigh, making your heart skip a beat. 

He wedges his naked cock between your thighs, right against your cunt, and you gasp. His swollen tip glides through your wetness and you moan, “Ohh.” He slowly slides forward and back through the warm, wet pocket made by your thighs and cunt. You push back against him. “Mm,” he grunts softly as his tip reaches your clit. 

His hand returns to your breast. He massages your breast as his cock keeps sliding between your thighs and nudging your sensitive bud just right. “Javi,” you whisper. “Please.” His cock hesitates at your entrance, and you tilt your hips. 

“Not today, sweetheart.” 

With a small thrust, he bypasses your wet little hole again. 

Then he stops moving. You push your ass back into him, and he does nothing but tighten his arm over you. He cradles your breast gently. You’re throbbing, aching to have him inside you. It feels like an eternity you’re lying like this with his arousal throbbing against your naked heat. You begin to feel a chill again and reach for the blanket to wrap yourself tighter. He helps you, then murmurs. “Good night”  into your hair. 

The comfort of his arms and rhythm of his breath lulls you to sleep sooner than you expect. 

—-...------

Just after daybreak, you awake to the sound of Javi breathing heavily  as his cock slides against your wet cunt again. Your chest is hot and fluttering. He’s aggressively groping one breast, then shifts to the other with a grunt and harsh thrust. Your body shifts as you wake up. He pants, “Morning sunshine,” and you push your ass back against him. 

“Was I good?” you ask. 

“Ohh,” he moans, “You were good.” 

His hand comes between your legs and you gasp at the pressure of his thick fingers on your clit. He doesn’t move them, just rests his hand there, then asks “Would you like to cum?”

You nod, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whine as his cock glides against you. 

He slows way down. “Because I’m only giving you one today. You sure you want it already?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. 

“It’s not even seven a.m.”

“Please, Javi.” 

He begins to move his thick fingers, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re seeing stars. 

“Ohh,” you moan as the waves of pleasure begin to overtake you. Your body spasms, and your walls clench around nothing. 

“Mmmm, mi putita. . .por supuesto ahorita” (My little slut. Of course right now), Javi purrs into your hair. “That’s the–ohhh–thing with addicts,” he pants as he chases his own orgasm. “You want everything right–mmm—now–ohhhh.” As Javi begins to cum, he moves his hand from your clit to his cock. His cock pulses against you, and it’s too easy to imagine it inside you. He cups his hand and seals it over his tip and your front. He slowly thrusts as he cums. He slides against you, coating your folds and clit with his warm spend as your own climax fades. 

When Javi is empty, he withdraws his cock, but keeps his hand in place. He rubs his spend over your oversensitive parts, making you flinch and moan. 

“Ohh, I know it sweetheart.”

A thick digit breaches your entrance, pushing some cum into you, and he sighs.

“One day, pobrecita. One day.” He adds another finger. “Voy a llenar esta concha con leche” (I’m gonna fill this pastry/cunt with milk/cum).

Your first morning waking up at Javi’s place, he lets you sit at the kitchen counter and watch him make huevos rancheros and cactus. 

Over breakfast, he asks, “What do you like to do?”

You shrug.

“Because getting high replaced all your hobbies,” he concludes. 

“That's not true.”

“It's not? Then what do you do? Draw? Write? Do you read?”

You scoff. “Yes, I read,” you say with an eye roll and can’t help but add, “Did kidnapping replace all your hobbies?” 

There's an instant surge of regret in your chest, but Javi chuckles and lets it slide. “What kind of books? I could pick one up for you.”

You swallow, rest your fork, and ask, “really?” 

“Sure,” He nods. 

“Okay. Maybe a mystery,” you offer, only because you know you'll need the distraction.

“Good,” he nods. “A mystery.”

Later that day, Javi has to go into the office. He leaves a glass of water for you, a bucket just in case, and he cuffs you to the radiator. He reassures you Steve will come check on you as soon as he gets home. You try your best to get comfortable on the futon mattress. 

As soon as Javi leaves, things go somewhat downhill. You have a headache, then your stomach begins to bother you, and the handcuffs are driving you crazy. You’re anxious. You're horny. You’re cold. Why are you horny? After about an hour, you rattle the cuffs on the radiator. When nothing happens, you yell for Steve, then hear movement upstairs. 

When Steve comes into Javi’s apartment, you hear him open the door, but it doesn’t sound like it shuts all the way. His footsteps are loud as they approach through the living room. Steve unlocks Javi’s bedroom and pauses in the doorframe. “There she is.” He rests his hands on the top of the doorframe and leans forward, stretching his back as he takes in the scene. “Damn,” he mutters. “You alright?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” He digs into Javi’s nightstand for the key. “Hold on.” He comes over and crouches down on the floor. He smells like cigarettes, and he must smoke the same brand as Javi. 

You're mildly surprised by the way your body reacts to Steve’s proximity. You squeeze your legs together, self conscious that you’re gushing. The day before, you were so focused on Javi that you didn’t think much of Steve at the time. But after overhearing him jack off. . .There’s something about hearing a man make those primal noises. It changes his whole face, his whole presence in your eyes. 

“C’mere,” Steve offers and extends his massive hands, looming over you. You sit up on your knees, careful not to expose yourself with no panties. He slots his hands under your arms and helps you to your feet. He checks you out and raises an eyebrow. You wonder if he can see through your nightgown. “He’s still got ya in your PJs, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s alright.” 

“Looks good on ya, anyway.” 

Steve ushers you to the restroom and waits outside. You’re starting to feel a little better already, just having someone around again. His presence distracts your body from its woes.

-

When you’re out of the restroom, Steve asks if you need anything else. You ask for a glass of juice. He brings you to the kitchen to get some. The sound of children playing outside echoes from the breezeway and you notice the door isn’t shut flush. Before you can really think about it, you begin to walk toward the door, heart pounding. You’re barefoot, and realistically, you’re not going to try to flee, but you want to know you could. You’re not running, you’re walking slowly, curiously as though pulled by a weak magnet toward a chance at freedom. 

Steve crosses the room in two strides and steps right into your path. His massive arm wraps around you, halting you dead in your tracks. “Wouldn't do that.” His face is stone. Instinctively, you begin to struggle, not to escape, but to get out of his strong grip. His body overwhelms yours.  

His arm tightens, and you whine, “Ow.” 

He shakes you once, then loosens his grip. He brings his mouth to your hair and lowers his voice.  “Don't make me hurt ya, sugar.” He wraps his arm around your middle and begins to drag you toward the bedroom with the creepy bed. He wrangles you over to the bed with the straps. You don’t resist much, but he’s rough with you anyway. 

“Okay, okay,” you tell him. “I’m sorry.” 

He throws you down on the bed and pins you with his weight, then begins to strap you in, limb by limb. Your heart is racing. But you don’t feel sick at all anymore. All you feel is the rush. 

“Ya know, I should tell Agent Peña ‘bout this,” Steve mutters as he buckles your wrist. 

“No, don’t. Tell him I was good. Please. I wasn’t trying to do anything.” 

“Yeah, alright. We’ll see.” The bed is probably full sized. Wider than a twin. The leg restraints are spaced out enough that you feel like you’re spread eagle. 

Once you’re all strapped down, Steve slowly paces next to the bed looking at you like a piece of meat. 

He asks, “True you were beggin’ for cock?”

“No,” you answer as a gut reaction. 

“Ya weren't? Huh. Peña’s a liar?” 

“He–he got me all worked up on purpose.”

Steve freezes near the foot of the bed and cracks a smile. “So it is true. . .Hmm.” He tilts his head contemplatively.  “How'd he do that? Get ya all worked up.” He dangles his fingers to graze your bare ankle. Then he walks back up toward your head, dragging his fingertips over your shin. His fingers lightly circles your kneec twice, then continue up your thigh. He pauses and strokes an abstract pattern on your inner thigh. 

You don’t answer him. You don’t have to. He’s already having an effect on you. 

“Well, don't worry. I'm not gonna hold out on ya. Want somethin’ from me, sugar? Just ask.” 

“Thanks.”

“It's ok, baby.” He lowers his voice. “Really don't mind one bit.” He looks at you hungrily and wets his lips. His fingers get closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. When his fingers graze your outer lip, he peeks under the gown. “He left the door open for me. That was nice,” Steve smiles. “Said ya got a gorgeous pussy, too.”  Your legs tense, and his hand returns to your thigh. “Nothin’ to be afraid of, darlin’.” 

The leather that’s holding you down is what scares you. It’s the most unsettling feeling. 

Steve adjusts himself, and when you follow his hand, you can't pull your eyes away from the bulge in his pants. Wow. He doesn't wear his pants nearly as tight on his ass as Javi, so you hadn't even thought about Steve’s dick. Now it's all you can think about. You're studying the shape his pants are struggling to contain. Never would’ve thought. And, balls. You’re pretty sure he’s got big balls. You wet your lips and realize you're staring. 

“Attagirl,” he mutters. “See, that's where my partner and I have different philosophies,” Steve explains. “I could care less if you're drunk, high, outta your mind.”  The hand on your thigh slides all the way up to where your thigh meets your torso. “Good pussy’s good pussy.” He traces the crease, right next to your outer lips, and his light touch makes you tingle. “I think a pretty girl deserves all the dick she wants.” He sighs, then raises his eyebrows. “And then some,” he says with a short nod. 

“His heart’s in the right place,” Steve says unconvincingly. “Hurts though, don’t it?” He pouts at you as he keeps tracing the crease of your inner thigh. “Never met a whore he didn’t fuck. . .n’ can’t be bothered to give ya just an inch.

He follows your eyes back to his crotch and chuckles darkly. “Boy, you got your eye on the prize, don't ya?” He looks down at himself. 

“Mmm,” he grunts when he meets your eyes again. The humor is gone from his face.

He looks at the leather strap around your arm. “I’ll take mercy on ya,” he mutters and takes his hand out from between your legs. He pauses with his hands on the strap.  “Gonna be good for me?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

He unbuckles the strap. The metal of the buckle flicks against your inner arm. You don’t move your arm, making good on your promise to be good. Then the mattress creaks and groans as he gets up on the bed with you. He straddles one of your knees and leans forward, bracing his right hand on the mattress near your torso. His left hand returns between your legs. This time, he goes straight for your cunt. He smiles when he feels how wet you are. He lightly rubs you, teasing your dripping folds up and down. He falls into a trance. He gathers your slick and brings it to your clit. He scoots up on the bed so his head is above yours and his crotch is at your hip. He looks into your eyes as he circles your most sensitive spot. A knot is already forming in your stomach, making your pelvis lift into his hand. He wets his bottom lip, then bites it as he adds more pressure. Then speed. Your mouth falls open and a moan slips out. 

His lips form a small ‘o’. “Ooh,” he marvels. “Oh, you’re a real sweet thing, I can tell.” His fingertips slide down, and one of them teases your entrance, making an audible, rhythmic smacking sound.  Then he slowly pushes the finger inside. His eyes roll up toward the ceiling, and his head tilts up too. You watch his neck veins. There’s some faded tattoo ink barely visible on his chest, poking up from his collar when the angle is right. He presses his hard bulge against your hip and you gasp with a bolt of arousal.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and you moan. “Yeah, ya want that, don’t ya?” He gives you another slow thrust against the hip.  “You want it right here.” He pushes another finger into you. “Ohh, yeah.” His upper palm massages your clit as his fingers pump into you.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry.” You twitch at the thought. “But you’re gonna cum on these fingers first. Hear me?”

You nod and take a deep breath. Your back arches. You reach for his pants. 

“There ya go,” he nods as if that’s why he unbuckled you in the first place. “Ohh, you’re gonna go wild.” 

You grab his bulge–it’s more than a handful–and massage him through his pants. 

“Mmm. Yeah,” he whispers. Your nipples harden with his practiced touch, and you sigh, unable to take any more tension. His fingers curl inside you and he whispers, “C’mon, now.” The deep whisper is enough. 

“Ohh,” you moan. He nods in encouragement and his upper palm bears down on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself unravel. Your spasming walls squeeze and soak his fingers. 

“Yeahh, attagirl.”  

As your climax fades, he withdraws his fingers and feverishly unbuckles his belt. You throb in anticipation. It won't take much to tease another one out of you. Your core twitches as he shoves down his briefs and his thick cock springs free, taking your breath away. He gets between your legs and holds his stiff manhood loosely as he lines himself up. He shakes it heavily up and down, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. Oh, God it feels so–you’re already about to–

–Steve hesitates.  

In the driveway, a car pulls up and stops. 

Steve stops what he’s doing. “Alright, let's see what the boss wants,” he says with an air of inconvenience as he tucks his erection into his briefs.

“Thought you were partners,” you say and hope you don't sound too disappointed. 

“On paper, sure. “ He buttons and zips up his pants. “On paper I'm a good cop, too,” he winks. 

Steve pats your cheek and says, “hang in there.” He gets off the bed, then leans in close and whispers, “give it to ya next chance I get. . .skip the preamble, how's that?” 

You bite your lip. Just as the front door begins to unlock, Steve sits down in a chair next to the bed, with his hands clasped in his lap. 

—--

Javi opens the door. 

“All good at the office?” Steve asks. 

“All good,” Javi reports, and he surveys you with his eyes as he approaches. “What’s going on here?” 

“Oh, she just wanted a change of scenery,” Steve reports, mercifully. Javi looks at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugs it off. 

“How are you feeling?” Javi asks you with a hand on his hip and a serious look. He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you and Steve, who’s on the same side. 

“Okay,” you reply. 

Javi clenches his jaw and furrows his brow. His hand frames your jaw and he looks at your eyes. Then he lets go of you.

"Good," Javi nods. Then squints and asks, "He touch you?"

You look at Steve. Steve raises his eyebrows curiously. He doesn't deny touching you, but his face also doesn't give you any clues about the right answer. He’s sitting in amused suspense. Javi raises his eyebrows at you like a challenge, waiting on you to speak. You look at Steve again, and Steve winks. Unsure what it means, you begin to slowly shake your head no.

Javi clenches his jaw and his eyes narrow. His head whips to Steve and he asks, "Why not?" 

Steve sighs and uncrosses his arms. He extends his hand to Javi. Javi brings Steve's hand to his nose, takes a whiff of his fingers, and cracks a smile.  "Don't lie to me, putita." Javi closes his eyes, draws in your scent again, then opens his eyes and mouth as he brings Steve's middle and index fingers to his lips. Javi locks eyes with you as he tastes you on Steve's fingers. Your heart races. You failed whatever test this was. 

Javi drops Steve's hand and brings his own hand to cup your jaw. "Pobrecita. . ." His hand dwarfs your face. "What’s the matter? Te confunde?” (It confuses you)

You nod, and your voice is small.  "You said it's yours." 

"What's mine?"

You look down at yourself and swallow. "My body?"

Javi nods. "Say it." 

Your eyes settle on what you can see of his gold chain under his shirt.  "This pussy is yours." 

"That's right," Javi nods condescendingly. "Good girl."  He brings his hand from your cheek to your thigh and squeezes it. He nods toward Steve and says, "con mi permiso" (with my permission).  "Still confused?" 

You shake your head. 

“That's all he did? Touch you?”

“Yeah,” you nod. 

Javi addresses Steve. "Alright, c’mon.”  He beckons him, and Steve stands up with his hands still clasped in front of himself. 

“Show her your cock.”

Steve undoes his pants again. He slides them down over the bulge of his still-hard cock, then pauses. 

“Pants off,” Javi adds matter-of-factly. Steve sits back down to unlace his shoes, then takes them off. He pulls off his pants, and he's left wearing black socks and white briefs with a red and blue stripe around the waistband. Thigh muscles are massive. 

“Good news for you, putita.” Javi nods toward Steve. “This one’ll fuck anything.” Your cheeks heat up and Steve shakes his head in amusement at Javi. 

“Says the guy who has his own room at a brothel.” 

Javi looks at your body hungrily and crosses his arms. “Give it to her,” he mutters without looking at Steve. 

When Steve stands up, Javi takes his place, manspreading with his hands tucked under his arms, straining his short-sleeve button-up.

-

Steve mounts the bed again, putting himself between your legs. He pulls his briefs down under his balls, and you let out a little gasp. His cock is even more engorged than it was before. It’s so thick, and the veins are beautiful. He looks even bigger than Javi, but it might be an effect of his lighter, finer pubic hair. He braces a hand on the mattress again, hovering over you.

You glance at Javi and he's watching intently as Steve lines up his cock between your legs. The touch of his tip at your dripping hole makes you shiver in arousal and your nipples pucker. Steve smiles to himself under his mustache. He notches his tip half inside your entrance, then looks at Javi. 

Javi makes a subtle beckoning motion with one hand, and Steve begins to push into you. You gasp as his girth begins to spread you open. He pushes further, and you whimper. 

Javi scoots closer and lays a big, warm hand on your tied-down arm. You look at him and he reassures you, “You can take it, I promise.” 

Then, Steve plunges to the hilt, dividing your insides with a loud grunt. You moan and lock eyes with him as he looks up at you darkly. Your body rushes to accommodate the heft of him inside you.

“Good girl,” Javi mutters to himself with his eyes fixed where your bodies are joined. 

Steve withdraws most of his length, then Javi raises his palm in a stop motion and Steve freezes, biting his lips together. Javi stands up, and walks toward Steve for a better point of view. 

“Go,” Javi mutters, crossing his arms again. There's a bulge growing in Javi’s restrictive jeans, and he's not doing anything about it. 

Steve pushes into you again, making you moan. He pauses for only an instant before backing out again, and right away he’s pushing back in. “Fuck,” he mutters as his thick cock disappears into your hole once more. 

“How is it?” Javi asks him. “Juicy, right?”

“Nngh–yeah,” Steve answers as he brings his hips back, then slams into you harder and his balls slap against you. “Goddamn,” Steve mutters. “Tighter than ya’d think.”

“Hm,” Javi hums with a straight face, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “He's gonna break you in for me.” He looks at Steve's cock sliding out of you then at Steve's face, twisted with arousal. “Right, partner?”

“Goddamn right,” Steve breathes. He ramps up to a steady rhythm, fucking you gradually harder until the force is pushing you up on the bed. 

“Hold on,” Javi mutters and the vein on Steve's forehead swells with effort as he stops with only his tip inside. Steve wets his lips and rubs them together. Javi tightens the restraints to hold you steady. While Javi is is busy with that,  Steve rocks ever so slightly into you, moving less than an inch forward and back. It’s so subtle it could be an accident, but it must provide relief because he moans quietly. At the sound of his noise and the look of his face, you whimper and your cunt spasms once. 

“Nngh,” Steve reacts. 

“Okay,” Javi announces, then stands so he can roughly see things from Steve’s point of view again. Steve resumes with a slow, careful pace. 

Javi wets his lips as he watches your cunt swallow Steve's cock. Steve's cock pulls at your pussy each time it withdraws, and the sight seems to darken Javi’s eyes with lust. You twitch again.  

“Fuck,” Steve breathes, then looks over his shoulder “Can I?”

“Don't let her come on your cock,” Javi answers.” 

Hearing Javi talk about Steve’s cock is almost enough to do it. 

Steve sighs and looks at the ceiling, in an almost eye-roll. His arms strain his shirt. His sweat wafts toward you and makes your knees weak. He draws in a deep breath as he slowly pushes in again. 

You imagine if the situation was different, if you were just some slut they picked up at a bar, how much fun you could have with the two of them. 

You twitch around him, and he pulls out in a hurry. “Sorry darlin’,” he mumbles. He sits back on his knees and pumps himself. “Where do you want it,” he asks, staring at your body.

“Uh,” you stammer, then realize he's not asking you. 

Javi pulls the gown down under your tits. Steve strokes himself faster until his breath gets uneven. He pauses, scoots up your body to straddle your middle, then resumes.  You admire his balls as his fist slides up and down his shaft. His hand is so large, yet it doesn’t dwarf his cock. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at your tits. He pumps himself faster and his mouth drifts open until he points his cock at your chest and moans, “Ohhh—ohhhh, fuck,” painting your tits with his cum. Your nipples sharpen as the warm spend spreads. As the last of his cum dribbles out, Steve sighs. 

“Good,” Javi mutters, then comes up toward the head of the bed again. Steve tucks his softening cock away and gets off the bed. He reaches down to the floor to get a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his jeans. Then he pulls the chair toward the foot of the bed, and manspreads in his briefs to watch Javi. 

Javi dips two fingers into Steve’s cum on your chest. He spreads it around slowly. He circles each of your nipples until they’re painfully erect. 

Javi swipes up a bit of cum from between your breasts and brings his fingers to your lips. You take his thick digits into your mouth and taste the salt of Steve’s seed. Then you gently suck. Javi gets you to clean both fingers, one at a time, then he licks them himself. 

Javi brushes your temple with his thumb. “Let’s hope this is rock bottom.”

—---

Thank you so much for reading. To help with the next ones, I would love to know what you liked most about it, and your thots are welcome, too 🖤

tagging people who asked for part 2 🖤

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ohheypedrito @weddingfairy @neobanguniberse @ladyscarlettdixon @zliteraturehoe @planet-marz1

[str4ngr]

pmgomg i wanna request the suggestive prompt five with the itoshi brothers and reo

but they’re at a party and they’re kinda jealous so they drag you to their car in the parking lot

with also kind of a bratty reader

and i love your work so so much like sgdjejdhh and i needed to request

thank you!! 💗💗

not-so-secret.

s. itoshi. | my drug, my addiction.

cw: suggestive, foul language, jealousy, argument/silent treatment, teasing, gn & bratty! reader, secret-relationship. wc: 650. notes: i love this request i wanna go back to it and write a more full version. also my one of my faves so he's obviously first.

He may be a football player, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy other games. He was proud, no matter how aloof he looked. His team had won another game, another trophy to weigh down the shelf that leaned with the rest of his rewards.

It was like you were dense, and from Sae's perspective, you were. You were like a magnet to any overzealous man, staring at your figure in ways only, he, your boyfriend, should ever.

He told you it was for your benefit that he didn't publicly state your relationship. But at this point, he was about to go back on his word. Sae struggled to even think of ways other men, football players, or other (in)famous characters, might try to hit on you without getting envious but watching?

It made his blood boil.

Unmistakably, two drinks were in your hand, yet that nuisance of a blurry face who truly had no pertinence, let alone social status, was talking to you as if he were worthy of your beauty and company. More and more filthy men came, flattering you, trying to touch you.

And when you let them? Sae's vision turned red, ready to rip and shred any man who dared but here he was, stuck with some pathetic correspondent. His mind raced, eyes and face calm as he glanced past the journalist's shoulder to you, smiling at another irrelevant swine.

Curt and brief answers were all the journalist got, not as though he was expecting much else considering Sae's track record. But what he wasn't expecting was the abrupt shove to the shoulder and Sae brashly pushed past him.

Heavy, hard, steps approached you. You stopped batting your lashes up at the men, regardless of their reaction. They may have thought you gave your all and every ounce of attention to them, but they should have noticed how your eyes flickered to his face every moment, relishing every twitch of jealousy on his face. You fought back a smirk, enjoying how bewildered journalists stood, eyes trailing behind him in shock as he slithered his arm around your waist.

"Do you have something to do with my partner?"

Your brows quirked as you leaned into his figure, looking up your eyelashes, feigning innocence,

"Sae? What's got you so angry? You don't like my new friends?"

Such a sweet tone you spoke in, as if the fingers digging into your waist were never there. He cleared his throat,

"No." I fucking hate them.

His hand pulled you by the waist as he dragged you out from the banquet hall, letting you stumble behind him as reporters and paparazzi were on the scene faster than any police could have shown up to a murder. He pushed past them with you in tow, his whole body tense as you could practically see the smoke fuming from his ears.

You were in the car with him, silence shrouding the both of you. Of course, you felt proud, your boyfriend fell right into your little trap. But, was it seriously worth this kind of outrage? He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, knuckles ghostly white as if they were about to rip open,

"You need to learn how to fucking behave."

Sae muttered in irritation, sharp eyes piercing your pout. His eyes turned back to the road when you began to whine again, some pathetic excuse. Pulling over and slamming the breaks, he snarled, fed up with your attitude. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your jaw, drawing your face closer as he whispered in a dark tone,

"Keep misusing that mouth,"

Sae's eyes drop away from yours, staring at the way your soft lips quiver in fear, glossy with the overpriced bullshit he buys for you. His rough thumb brushes your warbling lip, a foxy grin on his face,

"and I'll show you how to use it properly."

notes: i'm assuming these were suppost to be separate, so the rest will come soon!!

[luci4theminorannoyance]

Please can you do platonic 141 x reader x romantic(??) Ghost where the reader is addicted to painkillers? Like going through a pack per day and practically inhaling them before and after a mission. Its something went under the radar but somehow came to their attention Thank you!! xx

(Its ok if your not comfortable writing this)

a/n: sorry this took forever to post! I’ve been on a break recently to have a social interaction month I guess and things have slipped- also I’m quite alright with writing this! Tell me if I messed anything up of course as always because it’s my first time writing for lots of things

ghost:

-feels utterly horrid for not realizing the details, for gods sake he was dating you! He should have picked up on it, he should have done something, he should have! It makes him sick to his stomach that he wasn’t the first one to notice either

-it was gaz who told him, gaz… it made him feel so guilty that he hadn’t noticed before others did. Apparently gaz had noticed the little signs before him and had caught you after you had downed a pack of the medbays stored pain meds that were supposed to be lock

-was half scared to talk to you about it, but knew he couldn’t make it worse. So when you both luckily got some time off, he sat you down and held you close and just… talked. No special goal; just talking. And then he got you to sign up for some mental and physical help to work on getting off meds that he was so worried about you because of

gaz:

-froze in place when he saw you in the med bay. Sure he had expected something for quite a while, ever since you joined the team in fact he could clock something was off with you but he chalked it up to him being overly worried

-that was quite a bit ago, and you two have been good friends for so long now that he had grown blind to little warning signs

-he was frozen for a long time just looking, taking in the idea of someone he cared so much doing something he didn’t expect. Not that it was your fault, but it was truly unexpected

-he didn’t know what else to do so he dashed knowing you hadn’t saw him and told ghost, but didn’t think to tell price or soap

soap:

-wasn’t told till you were on break to get off painkillers, and utterly livid nobody had told him!! He wanted so so badly to comfort you but knew you probably didn’t need extra events during recovery, so he waited on his nerves end until you came back to base and utterly showered you in gifts as soon as you got back, chocolate, snacks, gifts galor

-he wanted to make up for not knowing, for not being able to help or reach you before hand, and gifts seemed to be the best way. He’s just always so glad your here and that you are getting better, albeit slowly

price:

-ghost had told him the day after your talk, and he was just utterly shocked, even more so then gaz to be honest… and he felt so guilty, why? Because he had brushed off the medbay nurses reports of missing pain meds for months thinking it was nothing big

-he’s your captain! He’s supposed to watch out for you, he’s supposed to be there for his team, that’s his damn job

-laswell had to slap him out of guilt to get him back in shape, and he promptly gave you and ghost the next month off, but made sure ghost would update him

[al1fers-haven]

'Dizzy'

Alastor x Reader

As someone who has struggled before with drug addiction harder drugs and things revolving around that, I can tell you that there have been many times I have tried getting help through stories that had backstories like mine and the situation I went through. This story does not have the intention of glorifying any drug use or alcohol use.

TW: Drug use, passing out, drug mentions, alcoholism, overall struggling. ADDICTION. You looked around, lying down in one of the loveseats inside of the lobby. Your head lolling back as you let your arm fall down. The world around you spins as you know it as your eyes grow heavy. Melting into the couch as you let the drugs take their course. It had to have been about 3 hours before Angel had found you on the couch, quickly patting your cheeks and freaking out. Thinking you were dead or something before your eyes fluttered open with that doped-up smile on your face. "Don't worry, I was just sleeping sweetheart..."

Angel had sat down there with you, your head on his lap as he scolded you for doing the harder shit instead of just smoking something. Watching as your head lulled back whenever something wasn't keeping it steady, you faded in and out of consciousness quite a lot as well. It wasn't till your breathing started to slow down that angel had gone to grab someone.

You and Alastor had a rough history, you had sold your soul to him after a couple harsh beatings from the man you worked with and he took you under his wing, treating you more like a broken child than the adult you were. He had taken care of you inside of this state more than he liked to admit. And it always meant one thing. You were trying to forget something. "Y/n.." Alastor looked down with a soft look, a smile gracing your features as you attempted to sit up, not being able to even pick up your head. "Alastor...!" Your words were a bit slurred, making him furrow his brow with a sigh. He sat down on the floor next to the couch, cupping the side of your cheek before attempting to pick you up. "We'll talk about this all in the morning, but let's get you to bed first..."

[thefoxtherapist]

Stolen Coat

Shinjiro has no idea what he did with his precious clothing article.

tags: gn!reader, soft fluffy.

Shinjiro had looked everywhere he could think in the dorm. Steely eyes scanned over his room for a fourth time. He barely left the space, and he knew it wasn’t downstairs, he had checked the roof. The man felt a shudder run down his spine, his hands shook as his inability to manage his temperature chilled him significantly. 

He tried to think, pacing in his room to try and generate more heat. There was one possible place. Did you have his coat? Your room completely slipped his mind during the ordeal of searching for his prized coat. But Shinjiro didn’t remember leaving it in your room. Still, he groaned, pulling open his room door to go check.

He quickly found himself in front of your door, loudly knocking with a shaky hand. He waited a beat for a response before he knocked louder, harder. Despite how the chill made his knuckles feel painfully stiff. He heard quiet shuffling on the other side, taking a half step back as you opened your room door, only poking your head out.

“Hey Shinji!”

“Where is it?” His voice was colder than he intended it to be, but he was freezing, and he really needed his coat. You raised a confused eyebrow before it dawned on you, a sheepish smile crossing your face as you stepped back to let him into your room. Shinjiro entered quickly, closing your door behind him before he looked at you fully.

He stopped mid opening his mouth, quickly closing it again.

You were wearing his coat. 

It suited you well. The colour was nice, the fit was nice, if a bit loose given he wore one larger than his own size. But it was his, and he was cold.

“Don’t I look cute?” You teased, rubbing the back of your neck with that same bashful smile.

“Yes, now hand it over.”

Shinjiro didn’t care about appearances, the effects of the suppressants were getting to him, as much as he hated them. You could see him shaking, even with his arms crossed over his chest, nearly hugging himself, with his chin almost hidden by his turtleneck. 

You brought your hands up, unbuttoning his coat and sliding it off of your warm body. You held it out to him and your boyfriend took it quickly, pulling it over his sweater and pulling it closed to continue hugging himself. He knew you felt bad, he could read it on your face, he averted his eyes from your face.

He wasn’t the easiest man to date, that was for sure. It’d taken some time before he came up to you days after rejecting you to give you a chance. And that was a lot for him, you knew that. But you also knew how to peek beneath the surface of his exterior. The one he so cleverly crafted. 

He watched as you pulled the blankets back on your bed before you sat on the edge. Then you held your arms open wordlessly. Shinjiro looked around, as if somebody could possibly be hiding in your dorm room. He then kicked his boots off, also wordless as he nearly threw himself into your arms.

“Oof-”

Shinjiro melted into you, opening his coat to engulf you in it and wrap his arms around you as best as he could in the position. You wanted to laugh as you struggled to tug him onto the bed and on top of you properly. But you managed with his shaking aid. You flailed slightly, grabbing the blankets after a few attempts and pulling them over your bodies.

“But you can’t stay, we already got in trouble for last time.”

“Fuck that.” His voice was muffled by your skin, his face buried against your neck. “I don’t care. They won’t kick us out, they need us.” That much was true, and you relaxed underneath his weight. He wasn’t very heavy anyway, it wasn’t difficult. You could feel how cold he was, but beneath the blankets, it was a cold that wouldn’t last very long.

“Fine.. But you’re buying me dinner tomorrow, Shinji.”

“Deal, now hold me.” Shinjiro always managed to sound rough, even as he was blatantly demanding your affection. Definitely not the easiest man to date, but the one you fell for. Happily so.

You snorted, squeezing his waist.

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (8) – A Captain and six brothers

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Former!Boss!Steve Rogers x Former!Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader

A/N: This chapter is a little Mike-centric.

Warnings: angst, flirty CEvans characters, language, plussized/chubby reader, protective brothers, Lloyd being Lloyd, fluff, domestic brothers, mentions of past drug addiction, talk about addiction/ADA groups

The assistant masterlist

Part 7

It’s an early morning, and yawn as you walk out of the kitchen, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in your hands. The brothers are still asleep, and it’s your day off at the bakery.

As you walk out of the kitchen, you frown deeply. Mike is pacing back and forth. He clutches his hands to his chest and exhales sharply.

“Mike?”

“Flower,” he pants, “good morning. How was your night?” 

“I could you ask the same question,” you look Mike up and down. “You look a little pale. Is something wrong, Mike?”

“You know,” he nervously scratches the back of his neck, “some days are good, and others are…” Mike shakes his head and sniffs, “Others are bad…and then there are days which are the worst. Days in which you wish that you could still shoot the poison you were addicted to into your veins. I’m clean but…”

“Today is the worst,” you softly ask. “How can I help you, Mike? I know you don’t know me, but I want to help you.”

He shyly smiles at you, “I try to find a Drug Addicts Anonymous group. I need to go to a meeting,” Mike shows you his phone, “but my phone doesn’t work. I got no signal, and my display is cracked.”

You feel your heart clench in your chest. Mike looks like a lost puppy, and you do the first thing that comes to your mind. “What?” He sniffs as you hug him tightly. “Flower?”

“Uh-sorry. I’m a hugger. You should get used to getting hugged, Mike,” he wraps one arm around you and enjoys the little attention you give him. “I can help you find a group.”

“What’s going on here?” Lloyd watches you hug his brother. He frowns and narrows his eyes. “What did our little chaos do this time?”

“Nothing,” Mike immediately says. “I swear.”

“We try to find a Drug Addicts Anonymous group. Mike wants to go to a meeting,” you give Lloyd a stern look. Lloyd is still angry, and Mike is afraid to make one false step. “Do you want to help us?”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “What can I do?”

“Can you look for a group? I’ll go with Mike. Maybe we can take the bus and…” Lloyd raises his hand, stopping you midsentence.

“Cupcake, you won’t take the bus,” he says. “Do you know how many crazy people you can meet on a bus? I’ll drive you and Mike. Now lemme find a good group. We don’t want him to talk to some losers getting him addicted again.”

Mike sighs deeply. “He doesn’t trust me,” he whispers. “He’ll never trust me again.”

“Nonsense,” you whisper and pat Mike’s back. “He’s your brother and loves you. We all make mistakes. Don’t worry. We are all going to support you.”

“I like you, flower. A lot,” he grins. “One day, I’ll show you all of my tattoos. Maybe I’ll get a new one only for you.”

“OH! If only I wasn’t scared of needles. I’d gotten a tattoo too,” you tell Mike. “I already said that didn’t I?”

“You are pretty without tattoos,” Lloyd grumbles. “Don’t let him talk you into getting tattoos.”

“You’ve got some too,” Mike grumbles. “You were the one paying for my first tattoo.” 

Lloyd grins. “You cried like a baby, calling for Andy to hold your hand.” 

“It’s not nice to make fun of people,” you say, and peck Mike’s cheek. “Lloyd, find a group or I’ll do it. Stop bugging Mike. He needs our support.”

Curtis chuckles. He watches you dismantle his cocky brother within a few seconds. 

“Looks like Lloyd is in trouble,” he says to Andy. “So, do we help him or just enjoy the show?”

Andy’s features darken. He doesn’t like that you are still hugging his brother. If anyone deserves your attention in his opinion, it’s him.

“She shouldn’t hang her heart on him. He’s…”

“Our brother,” Jake reminds him. “Mike made mistakes but he’s our little chaos and I’m glad he found his way home. Now, stop moping. If anyone asks Y/N out first, it’s me. I was her friend before you even saw her.”

“Says who?” Ari and Andy grunt in unison, making Lloyd cackle.

“Dream on, sunshine. She’s going to be all mine…”

“It’s okay, Mike. We can just wait here,” Jake says as his brother hesitates to enter the building.

“Maybe we go with him,” you grab Mike’s hand, gently squeezing it to assure him that you are here for him. “Right? I mean…I don’t know how these things work.”

“I don’t think they will like it when we all storm into the room,” Andy throws in. “We can wait outside or pick him up later.”

“I don’t want to leave him alone,” instinctively, holding Mike’s hand tighter you take a step toward the door. “I could just tell them I’m an addict too. I mean, Jake made me addicted to his cupcakes.”

Jake grins. “Hey, don’t tell them I’m your dealer or they want my cupcakes too.”

“Guys, this is not helpful,” Ari grunts. “Mike needs to meet up with people who understand his problem. We can wait here and drive back home together.”

You clear your throat to keep the brothers from fighting again. “I’ll go with him, no discussion. He doesn’t know this group and meeting them on his own can be intimidating. I’ll tell them who I am and ask if it’s okay that I’m at the meeting with Mike.”

“Thank you, flower,” Mike whispers. “I think it’s not going to be a problem that you come with me.”

While you and Mike enter the building, the brothers start muttering and fighting again.

“Great job. Now he’s got an advantage,” Lloyd huffs. “He’s going to seduce my girl with his sob story.”

“Lloyd!” Jake tuts. “Can you just not? Mike has a problem and needs our help. Let’s not be assholes and support him. We are finally all back together and have this sweet girl in our life. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Agreed,” Curtis says. He’s not a man of many words, but he cannot deny that he’s got a thing for you. 

“How was the meeting?” Andy asks as you walk back toward the mansion. “Did it help?”

“Y/N was the best,” Mike swoons. “Everyone immediately loved her. They are a great group. Some of them have been clean for years. I got a sponsor too.”

“I think this group is good for Mike,” you add. “They agreed on letting me come with him until he feels more comfortable attending the meetings alone.”

You look at the brothers, frowning as you get the feeling someone is watching you.

“I’ll drive you,” Lloyd hastily says. “Just tell me where and when.”

“It’s the same place every time,” Andy rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. “Get a hold of yourself, Lloyd. You can stop hitting on Y/N. She’s going to be mine.”

“What?” You blink a few times as they look at you. “Did I miss something? I added the next appointments to the calendar on my phone.”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Ari gives Andy a death glare. “Andy asked if you are hungry. We can order food and have another movie night.”

“Attention! You are surrounded. Let Y/N Y/L/N go, and no one will get harmed!!!” 

“What? I—” You jolt up on the couch, rubbing your eyes as you try to fathom what’s happening. You dozed off, and now someone is yelling your name.

“What the fuck?” Jake lifts his head from your lap, groaning as someone yells your name from outside the mansion. “Who is yelling?”

“Fuck you, you fucker,” Lloyd steps on the balcony. “What do you want, asshat? It’s two am and I was about to dream about fucking the cutest girl I ever met. Who are you?”

“Here is Captain America, and you are holding my assistant hostage!” Steve steps toward the gate, pointing his index finger at Lloyd. “Let her go. Unharmed and no one will get harmed.”

“You already said that sunshine,” Lloyd cackles. “Now get fucked, dude. Y/N is here with us because she’s got enough of your stiff ass and limp dick. Now, if you would excuse me, I’ll go back to eating her sweet muffin.”

“I’m warning you, Sir,” Steve raises his voice. He looks at Lloyd standing on the balcony in nothing but his boxer briefs. Steve imagines the worst things happening to you while held hostage at the mansion. “I’ll free her using force if you don’t send her out.”

“Fuck off, buddy,” Ari joins his brother to laugh about Steve’s antics. “Y/N is our friend, and you won’t ever see her again. We know what you did to her!”

“Go home, loser,” Jake and Curtis say in unison. “We got better things to do than looking at your ugly ass.”

“Sir, I must ask you to leave our property. You are breaking the law if you try to enter our home by force,” Andy, ever the lawyer says. “Leave now.”

“Fuck off!” Lloyd points a finger gun at Steve, “Or I’ll make you fuck off, buddy. We don’t need a fake hero on our ground.”

“Lloyd, stop riling that guy up,” Mike tries to stop his brothers from starting a war with Captain America. “Just ignore him.”

“Like hell,” Curtis grunts. “That bastard comes here and accuses us of kidnapping and holding Y/N hostage.”

“Maybe I can make him leave,” you sigh deeply. You didn’t want to see Steve again, but to protect the brothers you’d do anything. “Let me handle this.”

Mike follows you out of the living room before his brothers can stop you. He holds your hand as you walk out of the mansion to face the man making you feel worthless and small.

You let go of Mike's hand to grip the bars of the gate, looking Steve straight in the eyes.

“Captain, I’m here on free terms,” you glare at Steve as he grips his shield tighter at your words. “The brothers are my friends. Unlike other people, they only ever treated me with respect. No one is going to hurt me here or force me to do things I don’t want to do. Now, if you would kindly get fucked…”

You twirl around, walking back inside the mansion.

“You heard the lady,” Mike shrugs. “You had your chance and fucked up. Y/N is under our protection so go and bang that bitch you chose over my flower…”

Part 9

Tags in reblog.

[reidmarieprentiss]

The Hardest Goodbye

Summary: Spencer is using again after being rescued from Tobias Hankle.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst

Warnings/Includes: drug use, kidnapping, trauma, no happy ending, needles, talks of weight, talks about sex, rehab

Word count: 4.4k

a/n: so so so sorry about this one ,, when i say i live for the angst ... i mean it

main masterlist

When you started dating Spencer Reid, you never imagined the trials your relationship would face. The worst came when Spencer was kidnapped, a harrowing ordeal that left him physically and emotionally scarred. During his captivity, he was forcibly given drugs, leading to a painful and lingering addiction even after his rescue. 

Recognizing the signs that he was still using, you took it upon yourself to help him get into rehab, standing by his side through every step of the recovery process. You were his unwavering support, understanding that his journey would be marked by both triumphs and setbacks. Despite the challenges, you appreciated his efforts to overcome his addiction and never lost faith in his ability to recover.

On days when he struggled to motivate himself to attend rehab sessions, you would drop everything to accompany him, offering the strength and encouragement he needed. Your acceptance of his good and bad days showed your deep commitment to his well-being, and through your support, Spencer found the resilience to continue his fight against addiction. Your love and dedication became the cornerstone of his recovery, proving that even in the darkest times, he was never alone.

Finally, he’s clean. 

Life with Spencer has returned to a semblance of peace, a fragile tranquility that you both cherish deeply. The trauma of his kidnapping and the dark days that followed seemed like a distant nightmare, though the shadows of those memories still linger. It’s been a long, painful journey to get here, but here you are, together.

You and Spencer hadn't been intimate in what felt like forever. The ordeal with Tobias Hankle had left him deeply traumatized, and you respected his boundaries, giving him all the time and space he needed to heal. But now, with him clean and more like himself again, you thought it might be time to gently test the waters.

One quiet evening, as you sat together on the couch, you turned to him and let your hand rest on his. The warmth of his skin was a comforting reassurance. He smiled at you, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and you felt a flutter of hope. You leaned in and kissed him softly. He responded, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache with love.

As the kiss deepened, you shifted, moving to straddle his lap, hoping to rekindle the intimacy that had been absent for so long. But the moment you settled in, you felt his body tense beneath you. He broke the kiss abruptly, his hands coming up to grip your hips, stopping you.

"Wait, please," Spencer said, his voice tight and strained. "I can’t... It makes me feel trapped."

You pulled back immediately, your heart breaking at the look of fear and discomfort in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Spencer," you whispered, moving off his lap and sitting beside him again. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I know you didn't. It’s just... it’s hard for me."

You nodded, reaching out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "I understand. We don’t have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I love you, Spencer, and I’m here for you, no matter what."

He looked at you with a mix of gratitude and sorrow, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you. I love you too. I just need more time."

You gave him a reassuring smile, leaning in to kiss his forehead. "Take all the time you need. I’ll be here."

From that moment, you didn’t initiate anything again for a long time. You focused on being there for him, supporting him through his recovery, and finding new ways to connect and share your love. 

One evening, after months of patient waiting and gentle encouragement, Spencer finally took a step you hadn’t expected. You were sitting together on the couch, a movie playing softly in the background, when he turned to you with a look of determination mixed with vulnerability.

He reached out, his fingers lightly tracing your cheek before leaning in to kiss you. It was tender at first, but soon it deepened, the passion you had both suppressed for so long finally bubbling to the surface. Your heart raced as you kissed him back, feeling the intensity of his desire and his love.

As the moments passed, he gently guided you to straddle his lap, his hands resting on your hips. You could feel the shift in his demeanor, the hesitation that had once been there now replaced with a newfound confidence. You kissed him deeply, your fingers running through his hair, savoring every second of this long-awaited closeness.

But when your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, he stopped you, his grip on your wrists gentle but firm. He broke the kiss, looking into your eyes with a mixture of apology and regret.

"I can't... I can't take my shirt off," Spencer said quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that broke your heart. "I lost so much weight while I was using. I... I don’t want you to see me like this."

You looked at him, your heart swelling with love and compassion. "Spencer, it’s okay," you whispered, caressing his cheek softly. "You don’t have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I love you for who you are, not for what you look like."

He nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for understanding."

You smiled at him, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips. "Of course. We’ll go at your pace, always."

He sighed with relief, pulling you close and burying his face in your neck. You held him, feeling his body relax against yours. You knew this was a significant step forward, and you were grateful for his trust.

That night, you didn’t get any further than snuggling, but the intimacy was fulfilling without the need for anything more. Spencer was still healing, and you were more than willing to wait, to support him, and to love him unconditionally. The journey was far from over, but you knew that as long as you had each other, you could face any challenge that came your way.

As the weeks turned into months, your sex life began to resume, albeit with one consistent condition: Spencer always kept his shirt on. You respected his boundaries, knowing how sensitive he felt about his body after the ordeal he'd been through. Your intimate moments were filled with love and tenderness, and you found joy in reconnecting physically, even with this limitation.

However, as time went on, you couldn't help but notice subtle changes in his appearance. You had seen him eat heartily on numerous occasions, and it was clear that he had started to gain back some of the weight he had lost. His face had filled out a bit, and his arms seemed stronger. More noticeably, his ass and thighs were regaining their former shape, which you couldn't help but appreciate.

One evening, during a particularly passionate moment, you found yourself lost in the sensations and emotions of the moment. As you moved together, you squeezed his ass playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. "Looks like someone's been filling out," you teased lightly, your tone affectionate and playful.

But the reaction you received was far from what you expected. Spencer tensed immediately, his entire body going rigid beneath you. He pulled away, a look of panic and distress flashing in his eyes. "Don't," he said sharply, his voice almost a whisper but laced with a mix of anger and fear. "Don't say things like that."

You froze, your heart sinking. "Spencer, I'm sorry," you said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he pulled back, wrapping his arms around himself protectively.

"I can't... I just can't," he muttered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

You felt a wave of guilt and worry wash over you. "Spencer, please talk to me," you pleaded softly. "What's going on? Why is this so hard for you?"

He shook his head, refusing to meet your gaze. "You wouldn't understand," he said, his voice breaking slightly.

"Then tell me," you insisted gently, desperate to understand and help him through whatever was tormenting him. "I love you, Spencer. I want to help you, but I can't if you shut me out."

There was a long pause, the silence between you heavy and fraught with tension. Finally, he took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. "It's not just about the weight," he admitted quietly. "It's... it's the scars. The marks from the needles, from Tobias... I hate looking at them. I hate how they remind me of everything."

Your heart ached for him, understanding dawning in your mind. "Spencer," you whispered, moving closer but still giving him space. "You don't have to hide from me. I love every part of you, scars and all. They don't change how I feel about you."

He looked at you then, his eyes filled with vulnerability and pain. "I just... I feel so broken sometimes. Like I'll never be whole again."

You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hands. "You are whole to me," you said softly, your eyes locking onto his. "You are more than your scars, more than the trauma. You're Spencer, the man I love. And I will stand by you, no matter what."

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he leaned into your touch, finally letting some of the walls around his heart crumble. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

One quiet afternoon, after Spencer had left for another case with the BAU, you found yourself alone in the apartment, your mind racing with worry and unease. Despite his assurances and your best efforts to trust him, there was a gnawing feeling in your gut that something was still wrong. Spencer's reaction to your playful comment had left you deeply concerned, and you couldn’t shake the sense that he was hiding something.

Driven by a mix of fear and determination, you decided to do some digging around the apartment. You hoped against hope that you were wrong, that you wouldn't find anything to confirm your worst suspicions. But you had to know for sure.

You started with the obvious places: drawers, cabinets, the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You sifted through his clothes, checked under the bed, and even searched behind books on the shelves. The more you looked, the more desperate you became, tearing the apartment apart in your search.

After what felt like hours, you sat down on the edge of the bed, exhausted and emotionally drained. You hadn't found anything—no syringes, no hidden stashes, nothing to indicate that Spencer was still using. A wave of relief washed over you, and for the first time in days, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe you had been wrong. Maybe he really was clean.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "He's doing better," you whispered to yourself, as if saying it out loud would make it true. "He's really trying."

Little did you know, Spencer had taken the box with him on the case. He had become adept at hiding his relapse, and the box—a small, nondescript container with his supply—was his lifeline. He couldn’t bear to be without it, even when he was away on a case.

—

The day started off innocently enough, with you tackling the seasonal chore of rotating your closet. You hummed softly to yourself as you put away the heavy fall and winter clothes, making room for the light, breezy garments of spring and summer. It was a mundane task, one that allowed your mind to wander.

As you reached the back of the closet, your hands brushed against something solid and unfamiliar. Frowning, you pulled out a small, nondescript box. Your heart sank as you recognized it. Opening it confirmed your worst fears—inside were the remnants of Spencer's hidden stash.

You sat back on your heels, tears welled up in your eyes, and everything began to fall into place: his moods, his odd behaviors, the way he sometimes seemed distant even when he was right next to you. Hiding his upper body, probably covered in fresh tracks. The puzzle pieces clicked together in your mind, forming a picture that was devastating to behold.

Unable to think clearly, you quickly packed a bag, your hands shaking as you shoved clothes and essentials into it. You needed space, a moment to breathe and figure out what to say to Spencer. Yelling at him wouldn’t help; you knew he was in a fragile state, and the last thing you wanted was to push him further away.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you headed for the door, your heart pounding in your chest. As you opened it, you nearly collided with Derek. He was standing there, a look of surprise on his face.

“Hey, I was just—” he began, but stopped short when he saw your tear-streaked face and the bag in your hand. “What’s going on?”

You tried to stifle a sob, making eye contact with him for a brief, heartbreaking moment. Without saying a word, you pushed past him and hurried down the hallway, the tears flowing freely now.

Derek watched you go, a deep frown creasing his brow. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Spencer’s number. Spencer, who was out picking up Thai food for dinner, answered on the second ring.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Spencer’s voice was casual, oblivious to the storm brewing.

“What the hell happened, Spencer?” Derek’s voice was sharp with concern. “I just ran into your girl. She was crying and had a bag packed. What’s going on?”

There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line. Spencer’s heart sank, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. “She knows,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “She found the box.”

Derek's confusion was evident in his voice as he pressed for more information. “Knows what? What box, Spencer?”

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat dry as he tried to find the words. “The box... my stash. The drugs I’ve been hiding.”

Derek's silence was palpable, and when he finally spoke, his voice was filled with a mixture of disappointment and concern. “Spencer, why the hell are you still using? I thought you got clean.”

“I... I thought I could handle it, that I could control it,” Spencer admitted, his voice cracking with emotion. “But I couldn’t. And now she knows. She saw everything.”

Derek sighed deeply, his frustration and worry clear. “You need to get your ass home and talk to her. She’s hurting, man. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know, Derek. I know,” Spencer said, his voice breaking. “I’m heading back now.”

As Spencer rushed home, his mind raced with thoughts of how he could possibly explain, apologize, and make amends. The fear of losing you was overwhelming, and he knew he had to face the consequences of his actions.

When Spencer finally arrived at the apartment, Derek was waiting for him, arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” Derek said, his voice low and serious.

“I know,” Spencer replied, his voice heavy with guilt and resignation. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the conversation he had been dreading. "Derek, it's bad. I... I relapsed. After everything that happened, after Tobias... I thought I could handle it on my own, but I was wrong."

Derek's eyes narrowed, his concern deepening. "Why didn't you come to me, man? Why didn’t you ask for help?"

Spencer looked down, unable to meet Derek's gaze. "I was ashamed. I didn't want anyone to know I was struggling, especially after everything we’ve been through. I didn't want to disappoint anyone."

Derek shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "Spencer, we’re a team. We’re family. You don’t have to go through this alone. You can’t keep hiding this and expect it to just go away."

Spencer nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "I know. But it was so hard, Derek. Every time I looked at myself, all I saw were the scars, the reminders of what I went through. Using again... it made the pain a little more bearable, even if just for a moment."

Derek placed a firm hand on Spencer's shoulder, his voice softening. "I get that, man. I really do. But you can’t let this destroy you. You have people who love you, who want to help you. You have her."

Spencer's heart ached at the thought of you, the pain he had caused you. "I know. And now she’s gone because of me. I need to fix this, Derek. I need to show her that I can get better, that I can be the man she deserves."

Derek nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Then you need to take the first step, right here, right now. No more hiding, no more excuses. We’re going to get you the help you need, and we’re going to do it together."

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. "Okay," he said, his voice resolute. "I’m ready. I’ll do whatever it takes."

Derek squeezed his shoulder, offering a supportive smile. "Good. We’ll get through this, Spencer. One step at a time."

When Spencer and Derek stepped into the apartment, the air felt thick with tension and unspoken promises. Derek wasted no time, his determination clear as he followed Spencer into every room, helping him purge the space of anything that could be linked to his addiction. Spencer hesitated for a moment, but then joined Derek with a renewed sense of purpose.

Together, they scoured the apartment, starting with the small, nondescript box Spencer had hideen. They threw away syringes, pills, and anything else that could be used to get a fix. Derek watched closely as Spencer deleted all his dealer contacts from his phone, a look of grim determination on his face.

"It’s not just about getting rid of the drugs, Spencer," Derek said firmly. "It's about making sure you don't have any way to fall back into that trap. We're going to clean this place out completely."

Spencer nodded, his jaw set as they continued their task. Every drawer, every cabinet, every hidden nook and cranny was searched and cleared. By the time they finished, the apartment felt emptier, but also lighter, as if a weight had been lifted.

Derek then stayed with Spencer, refusing to leave him alone. For three days, he kept a close eye on him, offering support, conversation, and even a few moments of levity to keep Spencer’s spirits up. They watched movies, played chess, and talked about anything and everything that could keep Spencer’s mind occupied and away from the cravings.

On the second night, Spencer broke down, the weight of his guilt and shame finally overwhelming him. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face. "I don’t know if I can do this, Derek," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "What if I mess up again? What if I can’t stay clean?"

Derek sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his back. "You can do this, Spencer. I believe in you. And you’re not alone in this fight. You’ve got me, and you’ve got her. We’re all here for you. You just have to take it one day at a time."

By the third day, the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had just started, and Spencer felt a  deep desire to use. He still had a long road ahead of him, but he felt stronger knowing he had people who cared about him and believed in him.

It was on that third day that you came home. The moment you walked through the door, you saw Derek and Spencer sitting on the couch, talking quietly. Spencer looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of relief and trepidation.

Derek stood up, giving you a small nod. "I'll leave you two alone," he said gently, walking past you and offering a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder as he left.

You stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of Spencer, who looked worn but determined. He stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. He held his breath as he waited for you to speak.

"You need to check yourself into a clinic," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Spencer blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"If you want to stay with me, you need to help yourself first," you continued, your tone firm but filled with concern. "Clearly, us working through it isn’t enough to help you. You need to take control of your life and your recovery."

He stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in. "But... I thought we could handle this together. Here. At home."

You shook your head gently, stepping closer to him. "We’ve tried that, Spencer. And it didn’t work. You need professional help, a structured environment where you can focus entirely on getting better. I’ll support you every step of the way, but you have to make this commitment to yourself."

Spencer’s eyes filled with tears, a mixture of fear and resignation. "I don’t want to be without you," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I’m scared."

"I know," you said softly, taking his hands in yours. "I’m scared too. But this is the best chance for you to truly heal. And once you’re better, we can build a stronger, healthier life together."

He nodded slowly, his grip on your hands tightening. "Okay," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll do it. I’ll check into a clinic."

Relief washed over you, and you pulled him into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Spencer. This is the right thing to do. For both of us."

Over the next few days, you helped Spencer make the necessary arrangements. You researched clinics, found one that specialized in addiction recovery, and made sure it had a good reputation. Spencer was hesitant, but your unwavering support gave him the courage to take this crucial step.

The day Spencer checked into the clinic, you drove him there, holding his hand the entire way. The building was imposing, but it represented hope and a fresh start. You parked the car and turned to him, giving him a reassuring smile.

"We’ll get through this, Spencer," you said, squeezing his hand. "I’ll visit as often as I can, and we’ll stay in touch. Just focus on getting better. That’s all that matters right now."

He nodded, his eyes filled with determination and a hint of fear. "I will. Thank you for believing in me."

You leaned in and kissed him gently. "Always."

With that, you watched as Spencer walked into the clinic, ready to face his demons and fight for his future. It was the hardest thing you’d ever done, but you knew it was the right choice. And as you drove away, you held onto the hope that this was the beginning of a new chapter for both of you, one filled with healing, love, and a brighter future.

—

Not even a week later, Spencer was walking back through your front door. The sight of him standing there, his bag slung over his shoulder, filled you with confusion, anger, and disappointment.

"What the hell, Spencer?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mixture of emotions.

"I'm clean," he said defensively, dropping his bag to the floor.

"Clearly," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why are you home?"

"I can check myself out whenever I want," he snapped. "It's not prison."

"I know that, but you agreed to go through the whole program, which is twelve weeks, not one."

"It was stupid," Spencer retorted, his frustration evident. "It wasn't helping. I don't need to be told not to use; I already know that."

You felt a surge of anger rising within you, your patience wearing thin. "This isn't about being told not to use, Spencer. It's about getting the help you need to stay clean, to deal with everything that led you to use in the first place. You promised you would try."

"I did try," he insisted, his voice rising. "But it was a waste of time. I don't need a program to tell me what I already know."

"You think this is easy for me?" you shouted, unable to hold back any longer. "Do you think I want to see you struggling, to see you hurting yourself? I pushed you to go because I love you and I want you to get better."

Spencer's face contorted with anger and frustration. "Well, maybe you don't know what's best for me. Maybe I know myself better than you do."

Tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of his words hit you. "Maybe you're right," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "Maybe I don't know what's best for you. But I do know that I can't keep doing this. I can't keep watching you destroy yourself and pretending that everything is okay."

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice softening, a hint of fear creeping in.

"I'm saying I can't do this anymore," you replied, tears streaming down your face. "I love you, Spencer, but I can't keep sacrificing my own well-being for someone who refuses to help themselves."

Spencer's eyes widened in shock and desperation. "You can't leave me. I need you."

"I need you too," you said, your voice breaking. "But I need you to be healthy, to be whole. And if you can't commit to that, then I have to walk away."

You grabbed your bag, tears blurring your vision as you headed for the door. "I hope you find the strength to get the help you need, Spencer. But I can't be here to watch you self-destruct."

With that, you left the apartment, your heart breaking with every step you took. You knew it was the hardest decision you had ever made, but it was also the only way to protect yourself and give Spencer the wake-up call he desperately needed. As you walked away, you held onto the hope that one day, he would find the strength to truly heal and that perhaps, when that day came, you could find your way back to each other.

[jaennwrites]

Little things | Captain John Price x f!reader

feels like I'm the only person obsessed with this man, so I'm doing a service to all the Captain Price lovers fr.

summary: an eventful morning with Price :) cw: established relationship, smut, size kink (kinda), unprotected sex, praise, slight violence, aftercare, L-bombs (i think that's all of them or at least the major ones) word count: 2,615

ofc reblogs and comments much appreciated :)

You woke up to the sun gently warming your face although causing major obstruction to your vision. Lazily using your arm to shield your eyes from the sun but it only helped so much so you opted to just turn away, only to be reminded of the man you were sharing a bed with.

John Price…your captain.

You couldn’t specifically remember the first time you both slept together but the pattern eagerly ensued almost every time you both got the chance. 

It was indeed a privilege to be able to see the captain so relaxed, you seemed to always wake up before him so you would always have the chance to examine his face and it was as if you always found something new. 

Today was the prominent stubble growth, typically Price had always made an effort to shave his uniquely styled beard that you had a crazy infatuation with, but he has been really busy recently. Last night was the first time in 3 weeks that you guys had the chance to sleep together, you will admit that he made sure you knew that he was sorry.

You halted all movements as John stirred in his sleep but he soon calmed down and was quietly sleeping again. You noticed he always slept on his back as well, maybe that's why his face was so perfect.

You contemplated the risky move you were going to take but took it not caring if John awoke. You carefully pulled the blanket off of him, stopping a few times so as to not wake him. Soon enough his entire bare torso was visible allowing you to view one of your favorite things about John.

His scars.

Your favorite being a medium slash on his right arm that he got on a mission with you. You two had been running away after being overwhelmed by a cartel you can’t bother to remember the name of and he had found a fence that led to an abandoned part of the town. You urged him to go first but he firmly denied, he pulled the fence open and pushed you through first, but that’s not how he got the scar.

There were multiple enemies following behind you two and you hadn’t thought that they would be able to catch up in time but they did, but instead of Price allowing you to help him fight, he zip tied the fence closed knowing you had lost your knife in an earlier fight. 

He pushed you away and demanded you run towards an abandoned house, promising that he would meet you there. You ran hesitantly at his request and of course he met back up with you, rewarding you with a kiss on the top of your head but also with the scar that you’ve grown to love. 

“You’re a creep” A deep accented voice spoke ripping you from your silent trip down memory lane 

“No” You poorly defended resting your head on his chest as you looked up at him 

“Oh?” He hummed looking down at you 

“Oh” You repeated in an answering tone 

“I could’ve sworn I fell asleep with the blanket over my chest” He teased 

“Bad memory” You smiled 

The way John looked at you was intoxicating but this morning the look was different, it seemed somewhat sad in your opinion.

“I don’t like that look” You joked wrapping your legs with his so you could be closer 

“What look?” He questioned closing his eyes 

“Like a high school boy about to break up with his girlfriend before they start college” You joked 

“Secondary school” John teased 

You rolled your eyes playfully before sighing knowing that Price would never tell what was so clearly bothering him, you were just hoping it wasn’t you. You went to get up from his bed but his arms stayed tightly wrapped around you.

“Am I not allowed to leave?” You teased 

“Last night was the first time in weeks that you slept in my bed…” “You’re not getting away so quickly” He spoke with his eyes still closed 

You let out another sigh before turning your attention to the resting man, hell if he wasn’t going to let you go, you might as well keep “creeping”.

You stared at his closed eyes trying to remember the vibrant blue that continued to surpass your memories every time he opened his eyes. If you were an idiot you would admit that you were practically in love with the man, oftentimes you found yourself wishing he’d randomly come up to you and say that he loved you too. 

“What?” John questioned sweetly as one of his eyes peeled open to meet yours

“I’m not even doing anything” You defended with a small laugh 

You playfully huffed making another attempt to escape Price’s arms but once again his hold remained tight. He pulled you on top of him before placing a soft kiss on your lips giving you a smile after.

“Can you stop being so eager to get away from me?”  “Breaking my heart” He joked 

“Let me get on you then” You teased sitting up

“That sounds nice” John spoke as a smirk creeped onto his face 

His hands trailed from your hips slowly, simultaneously pulling off his oversized shirt you wore. You breathed in deeply at the feeling over cold air on your now bare torso.

John was a major “boob” man, the infatuation he had with your breast could entertain you for centuries. You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face as you watched his large hands go to your chest like magnets. 

You let out a sigh of contempt as you relaxed into the feeling of his rough hands massaging your chest. He used a hand to guide you down before happily taking turns sucking your nipples and leaving hickies on the soft skin of your breast. 

John always opted for hickies on your chest or just about anywhere that wasn’t visible, he wanted you to remember him but professionalism still needed to be maintained, he was still your captain.

“You’re obsessed” You teased prying his mouth off of your chest 

“You have perfect tis, what can I say” He defended moving his kisses to your mouth once again 

Your hands cupped his face with a slight smile forming as you felt all his facial hair. Your hips slowly grinded on his; filled with excitement for what was inevitably about to come.

“Fucking hell (british ppl talk tee hee)” John groaned placing his large hands on your rocking hips

“Captain” You teased sitting up knowing John went crazy for your little “performances” 

You smiled at your success to get the Brit so riled up as he wrapped an arm around your waist before flipping you over so that he was now hovering over you.

“I hate when you tease me” He defended 

“Liar” You hummed 

Price often had a funny habit of dropping most of his weight on top of you, whether you were just joking with each other in bed or he was ramming into you, he loved doing it and to be honest you didn’t really mind.

“Fuck you” You joked hoarsely as he dropped his body weight onto you 

He smiled propping himself up, freeing you of his weight, but he just stared down at you, once again with that somber look you noted before.

“What is it?” You asked searching his eyes as if to find an answer 

“I love you” John spoke 

He loves you.

“What?” You asked in disbelief but only for the best reasons

Captain John Price…loved you, you knew he cared about more than he’d ever admit, but this reserved man who always pushed you forward first, always questioned your comfortability, praised you ability…of course he loved you.

“I don’t want to scare you off” “I love you, and I want you to know that I care for you, all that sappy stuff” He joked placing a gentle kiss on your lips 

“I love you too John” You smiled

Price smiled down at you before kissing you again, you felt his hand descend under the blanket you two laid under, he pushed your legs open before fitting himself into the space he had made. A soft moan escaped your mouth as you felt his hard bulge prod at your exposed wet slit.

“Tell me” “Tell me you want it” He teased covering your neck with wet kisses 

“I want you” “Please” You begged shamelessly 

Price placed a kiss on your lips before freeing his leaking erection from his boxers. He looked at you amusingly as his large tip prodded your entrance. 

He was big all around, in every aspect of the word, whether it was his height, his general build, or wickedly enough, his dick. 

“Ready?” He asked covering his tip in your wetness

You nodded eagerly which made him laugh a bit but soon enough your eyes were fluttering closed as Price pressed into you with a deep groan. You placed one hand on the side of his face as you kissed him to remedy the fiery sensation of him stretching you out. 

“I love you” You moaned into his mouth 

Price smiled down at you taking in the sight of you, the marks on your tits, the way they bounced which each of his thrusts, the way your free hand gripped the bed sheets, everything about you was arousing, even when he wasn’t pounding into you.

The burning hunger that overtook his body when he saw you simply holster your gun, when you put on a mask, when you waked, hell even when you spoke to him. Everything about you always made him want to tear your clothes off and sink his dick into you.

Your legs involuntarily closed as John sat up making his thrust harder and faster, this was a common occurrence and every time your body began to tap out, he took it as a challenge to push you over the edge of stimulation.

“Open them”  “Or I’ll make it worse” He teased stopping his motion

“Just…” You began but just like every other time you didn’t know what to say, you didn’t want a break, you didn’t want him to stop…you just didn’t know 

“You know the safeword” John spoke placing his hands on your knees that were still shut 

When you and Price first hooked up, you saw the above average size of him which resulted in the agreement of a safeword and you were sure of the decision after having sex with him. You both decided on just saying his call sign ‘Bravo Six”, there was already a serious connotation attached to the words so it made sense to use it for a serious situation.

You obliged and opened your legs with instant regret as you saw the familiar smirk of a man who was about to drop half his weight on you.

“Stop” You warned attempting to be serious but the smile creeping up on your face assured Price that you were not.

His pace began again and you paid no attention to the shenanigans that Price planned on pulling, because you loved when he fucked you like this. When his face was so close to yours, his forehead resting on yours, being able to feel the vibrations of his groans on your face.

“Fuck” You moaned as Price’s heavy body pressed down onto you 

“I love you” “You’re mine” “I’ll fucking kill armies for you” He groaned before placing a rough kiss on your parted lips 

John lifted up his body allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as your body scoured for more of him which he was glad to give you. 

You could feel the pit in your stomach building, it weirdly felt like a good stomach ache almost, you were close to cumming and John knew it. The way your breath got ragged as if your body was starting to panic, the way your legs were locking around Price’s torso, but his favorite thing was the eyes you gave him. The way they got low, the way you could barely keep them open, the faint dampness of your lashes from when your eyes watered when he first put his dick in you. 

“You wanna cum?” He teased 

“Yes” You moaned shamelessly

Price slowed his pace but his slow place was just as potent as his fast one, his thrust became deep and taunting forcing loud moans out of you everytime he sunk himself back into you. 

“Oh my god” You moaned loudly as your orgasm overtook you 

“That’s my girl” He praised clearly amused by your unfolding

It was a domino effect when you came and one thing John made sure was that you came before him because if you didn’t then he couldn’t. He loved the way you began to tremble under the pleasure, the sensitivity of each part of you, that’s what he looked forward to with each of your “encounters”. 

Your body shivered as Price peppered kisses on your neck and collarbones and picked up his pace once again, other than your hand that was gripping his, your body was practically just spasms now as his tip kissed your cervix with each hard, fast, deep thrust. 

“Is my beautiful girl, all cock drunk” He teased 

John began to focus on achieving his orgasm seeing that if he didn’t stop now you wouldn’t be able to get up for the day. He let go of your hand to your dismay, he used his now free hand to prop up your hips as he got rougher than you ever could imagine. 

“Please” You moaned loudly not even sure of what you were begging for 

“I love you so much” He groaned loudly pressing so deep into you that his pelvis smacked your clit

Price watched amusingly as some of his cum seeped out the sides of the “seal” you both created. He finally pulled out and made his way to the bathroom to run you a bath. John took full responsibility for his rough demeanor during sex and so he always made sure to make up for it after. 

You groaned at the soreness you felt as you sat yourself up; you loved sex with John but my god did it take a toll on your body after. 

“Stop trying to be independent” He playfully scolded before picking you up bridal style

He placed you in the tub before getting in behind you; he placed small kisses on your now wet shoulder. You laid your head back onto Price’s chest allowing him to wrap his arms around you peppering kisses on the top of your head.

“Why do you always kiss the top of my head?” You asked examining his hands 

“Cause I like to” He defended with a smile you could hear in his voice 

“Seriously” You spoke playfully slapping his knee

“I like the smell of your hair”  “And I love you” “That’s how I show it” He shrugged 

You craned your head back smiling at your upside down view of the handsome British man, you reflected on all the times even before your first hookup that Price had his face buried in the top of your head.

He always fixed any headgear you had on, always taking something out of your hair, and  patting down your flyaways. You sat yourself up turning your body to face him because it finally hit you. 

Captain John Price had been in love with you long before you two even had sex.

“I love you” You smiled

[catmilf4life]

☾ gifted cigarettes 𖤓

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

chris sturniolo x fem reader (nameclaim)

nameclaim: aurora

-angst

TW: blood mentioned! (a lot!!), drugs, cigarettes, alcohol (slightly), self harm, overdose, addiction

synopsis: u were the most perfect girl in the world, you didn’t see yourself as that, but chris did.

!not proof read! - sorry for grammatical errors I wrote this really late at night. Am gonna be fixing them before i make a masterlist! dw!

chris’ pov.

I was coming back from work. It was pretty late maybe 9ish? I spent the whole day at the warehouses just going through some merch designs, with my team. I didn’t see Rori, since this morning. Oh, how i missed her.

I missed her touch, how she touches my neck when we kiss, i missed her soft plum lips. In fact i missed everything, she was just so perfect.

I stopped on the red light. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song in the background, tv girl cigarettes out the window was playing. It immediately reminded me of Rori.

she was a heavy smoker. I tried to talk her out of it, but it never worked. After a while I got used to her late night smoking sessions.

She would sit in my window, looking at the street infront of our house.

i would study her silhouette. Sometimes i would join her and smoke too. I never really wanted to get attached tho.

Since me and my brothers hit 21 we still tried to keep our promise and not drink and smoke if it wasn’t necessary.

But well sometimes, life was too hard. Rori got addicted when she was 18 and never stopped since.

She hated herself for it. Or well that’s what she told me.

My mind drifted way back. I came back to reality when I heard a car behind me honk. I look up and see the red light turn green.

I open my door to our house slowly closing them behind me.

“Rori? am home!” i yelled as i waited for an answer. I was so excited to kiss her and hug her until she couldn’t breathe.

“rori?” I yell once again. Where is she? she always texted me when she left the house so i wouldn’t worry.

I come to our living room just looking around. I see her phone on our living room table. I look at it, i see many messages from her friends.

My breath slowly changes rhythm. As i start to panic. I got scared. Where was she.

“rori?! where are you? this is not funny!” i yelled as i tried to stay calm. I go to our bedroom, nothing. I go to our closet, no one in sight. i go to our guest room,bathroom nothing.

I walk all around the house shouting her name hoping she was just playing. I pick up my phone and try to text her friends.

My last option was the main bathroom. The last place where i haven’t looked.

I feel sweat form on my forehead as i slowly walk up to the door. I put my hand on the handle and slowly put pressure on it.

I open the door. My pupils get huge and my eyes get automatically teary at the sight of rori sitting at our cold tiles. She had slits on her palms, hands her arms, everywhere.

I kneel down to her, looking at her lifeless body. “rori, please wake up. Please please don’t leave me.” I hug her body still feeling her heart beating. Tears fall down my face.

“please don’t leave, it’s gonna be fine. It’s going to be alright. Stay with me for a second.” i stuttered as i tried to hold myself together.

“am gonna call an ambulance, and and they are going to help you, i promise.” i sobbed.

Rori fluttered her eyes open. “rori? it’s going to be alright, i promise just stay with me.” “am scared, chris-“ “don’t waste your breath rori. ambulance is on their way.” i sobbed seeing rori slowly fading away.

“I love you chris, I always have, thank you.” Rori mumbled as she coughed. She had dark eye bags and her eyes were more closed than opened.

More tears fell down my cheeks as i couldn’t calm myself down. “i love you too. I always have. Just be here with me, please i need you.” i kissed her forehead as i tried to calm myself down.

I hugged her almost lifeless body as she rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed her beautiful hair. As tears fell down my already red face.

“don’t leave me.” i whispered to myself. “don’t leave me please. I need you here, with me.”

Rori died 1 minute before the ambulance came. I counted it. She died right on my shoulder on the cold bathroom tiles. As i hopelessly begged her to stay with me.

She overdosed herself and then slit her palms. i had so much rage and anger built up in me. How could she leave me here? How could she do it.

After that i promised myself, that i’ll never forget. Never forget about her sweet soul, about her beautiful face and how much i loved to cup her cheeks in my hands. And that i never forget what killed her.

i didn’t enter my apartment since. I didn’t want to remember that disgusting night.

After few weeks of living with my brother Nick I got my shit together and came to conclusion that i should move out.

I came to my old apartment as i was packing up our bedroom i came to the nightstand she used. I opened her drawer to find some weed and cigarettes.

When i saw it i wanted to burn them, I hated that shit. It ruined everything.

I took them out of the drawer and threw them on the bed.

As i came back to the drawer i saw a white envelope right under the place where the weed was.

I take it and slowly turn it around .

To my only real love Chris

i slowly opened the envelope. Inside i found a paper that had something written on it.

dear chris,

If you are reading this, am already dead.

I know it sounds crazy. But just know I will always love you no matter what.

You will always be in my heart. I hope that i will still have a small place in your heart too. I hope you find someone who deserves you. Who loves you as much as i did and even more. I accept that you are mad and angry at me for taking my life this way. Or taking my life at all. You think it was a selfish act. It was my escape. Now am finally free. I hope you’ll never forget about me. I’ll always love you. remember that.

your girlfriend Aurora.

ℒ𝓸𝓿𝒆 𝔂𝓸𝓾

My tears fell onto the white paper as some of the letters smudged from the salt water coming from my eyes. All the memories came rushing in my head. I really was angry at first. But now. It’s all gone. I just want her back, to be here with her.

I take the cigarettes and weed.

I sit on the window she used to sit.I opened her cigarettes pack and put one in my mouth and light it up.

The only thing rori left me was cigarette packs and an addiction.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓

- My first chris fic?!

What are we thinking?

oh! and this is even my first angst! am really excited cuz i never wrote something like this and it just motivated me to write more! love you all peace out

should i do one with matt?

[effy-writes]

Addict (Blitz x Reader)

10: Ozzie’s/Queen Bee:Methamphetamine

cw: narcan, mild sa

~~~~~~~~

 "Woo! That was a fuck ton of lumberjacks!" Blitz yelled.

You panted, holding yourself up with the metal pole, "Fuck this stupid coke lungs." You whispered.

"I'm so jazzed up!" Millie screamed.

"Well you better stay jazzed, babe. Because, guess where I'm taking you tonight?" Moxxie pointed finger guns.

"Don't you dare finish a filthy pun in my presence Moxxie. Besides, drinks are on me tonight. Let's hit up the new dive down the street." Blitz put his arm around you.

"Actually, sir, it's our one-year marriage anniversary. So, I'm taking Millie to Ozzie's in the Lust Ring!"

You grinned ear to ear, you absolutely love M&M's relationship. Every once in a while you'll get jealous over their relationship, wishing that you will have your Moxxie, or even your Millie.

The couple started to make out in front of everyone, you looked amused but Blitz was annoyed.

"Ugh, can you two not?"

"I'm sorry, sir. Maybe another time?"

"No, it's fine! I-I can come with the two of you, help you celebrate your boring as fuck monogamy."

"Can I come?" You butted in, Blitz had to take a second glance, "Uh, No"

"Why?" You leaned onto the pole.

"Because I like stalking M&M, I don't actually want to go on a date."

You slouched, dragging your pole and sat down on the chairs at the table.

~~~

You and Blitz stayed quiet during the drive home. Once arriving he quickly cleaned up, throwing the bathroom hygiene out so he can get what he needs.

You on the other hand sat on the couch, rubbing your temples.

"You okay?" Blitz startled you.

"Yeah. Are you actually going to Ozzie's?"

"Yeah? I gotta see what M&M are up to." Blitz rushed to the door but turned around and went over to the couch. "Oh shit I actually forgot something." He pulled out a box from his jacket pocket and handed it to you.

You raised your eyebrow and opened the box, it was a new phone. "What's this?"

"What are you fucking blind? A phone! You deserve it."

Your smile gotten bigger, "Really! Oh thank you!" You pulled Blitz into a hug.

"Please don't make me regret this." He groaned, pulling away from the hug. "Everyone's contact is in that list. Anyway I gotta go byeee!" He ran out the apartment.

"At least I won't be bored." You mumbled, but perked up.

You went on the dark web and clicked on some links that will send you drug dealers from miles away. Your heart felt heavy, Blitz gave you a phone because you haven't done drugs in a while, but now you're breaking his trust by doing the first thing he begged you not to do.

You debated on it for a while, but decided to say fuck it and find some people.

~~

"Fuck yes!" You shouted, grabbing the baggy of coke. "That was actually easier than I thought." You shrugged and made two lines with the new coke, snorted, and stumbled back. The euphoria automatically hitting.

Your phone rang quickly answered it, "Hi Blitz!"

"Hi yeah, can you come over to Ozzie's? I need a partner."

Oh shit. "Sorry, I was going to run some errands."

"Since when did you do that?"

"Now."

"Boo you whore." Blitz hang up.

15 minutes later your high worn down. You were tempted to do some more lines. You hesitated, and then made 3 more lines, snort, and exhaled in relief. You got a crazy idea, you wanted to see Blitz.

You took a quick shower and put on some better clothes, a plain long sleeve shirt with a skirt. It's not much but it's better than your regular clothes.

~~

You snuck your way into the building, found Blitz and started walking to his table.

"Stolas?" You mumbled.

Fizz quickly caught your eye. Him and Ozzie was singing to what it look liked to be was Moxxie. You didn't care, you just wanted to sit with Blitz.

"Hey guys what did I miss?"

"Y/n! What are you doing here? And how did you get in here without a partner?" Blitz whispered.

"Metal rod."

"Eh fair enough."

"Darling! Y/n! Haven't seen you since the last full moon."

"Yeah, been busy Stolas."

You looked up to see Fizz. You haven't seen him since you left the circus. You know he's disabled and have robotic limbs, but this is the first time you saw him in person.

"Holy shit Y/n?" Fizz yelled, the light shining onto you. "There's one thing me and Blitzo have in common. We hate for what you did to us. Coked up and left us." He laughed as you gulped. Fizz extended and got to your face, "Pupils big, somebody is on coke again." He teased.

You looked at Blitz with guilt.

"I gave you a phone and not even 3 hours later you got high?" Blitz stood up.

"Is that Blitzo? So, you're showing your face!" Fizz laughed. "Hey, everybody! This guy's a total disgrace!"

You didn't take your eyes off of Blitz. Stolas put his hand over yours, "Since when did you do drugs?"

"Since I was four fucking teen!" You yelled, bringing everyone's attention to the three.

"Stolas, is that you?" Asmodeus got a closer look.

"Are you sleepin' with two imps?" A bystander interjected.

The constant taunting was starting to end. Blitz looked away from Stolas and you. Angry that Stolas looks ashamed to be with the two, disappointed with you for breaking his trust.

Stolas reaches his hand to comfort Blitz, but he pulled away.

"You know what? This was a mistake. Alright, let's just -- let's just leave."

"Oh. Right, of course."

Your breathing slowed. The two males got up and started to leave. You still sat at the table, sulking in what you've done. You began to think that you never learn, cursing at your parents for making you addicted, and cursing at yourself for not breaking it.

Stolas realized this and walked over to the table, putting his hand on your shoulder, "Come on," he said in a soothing voice.

You got up and walked with Stolas, Blitz was already gone.

The two got in his van, Stolas in the passenger seat while you sat in the middle of the back seats. None of you said a word to each other.

The van stopped at Stolas' mansion, the owl got out and peaked his head through the window. "Thank you, for... inviting me out tonight. Despite everything that's happened, I...I enjoyed spending time with you."

"Yeah." Blitz got irritated, he clenched his grip on the steering wheel.

"You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia's with her mother this weekend. So, we could--"

"We're not fucking you tonight, okay? I'm really just.. I'm really not in the mood, Stolas."

"Because of what happened or because of Y/n's currentship." He pointed to you.

"Both." He spat.

"We could talk, or... watch a movie, or... maybe cuddle?"

"Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting us to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time." His voice broke. "But, I just, we can't do it tonight, okay?"

"Okay." He sighs, "Goodnight, Blitz. Goodnight Y/n."

"Night." Blitz drove off, not giving enough time for you to say goodnight.

The high wore off, inducing you to have extreme fatigue. You stretch in the backseat and laid down.

Blitz looked at you through the rear view mirror. You were sound asleep, the only noises in the van was your soft snores.

"You're killing me, Y/n." His voice cracked, shook his head and kept his eyes on the road.

Occasionally staring at you sleeping soundly.

Blitz picked you up and carried you to the apartment room. He was struggling to unlock the door since he was trying not to drop you.

He shut the door with his foot and gently laid you down on the pull out couch and covered you up. He took off his shoes and laid down beside of you.

Blitz pulled you close to him and looked through his phone gallery. He swiped through the pictures, pictures that he took of Stolas, you, M&M, him and Fizz, and then his mom. Tears filled his eyes, pulling you closer and cried quietly into the crook of your neck.

~~~

Blitz ended up falling asleep, and his phone dinging woke him up. Loona had texted him to pick her up from the party.

He shook you to wake up but didn't budge. "Y/n." He began to panic. He raised his hand and slapped you.

"What the fuck, Blitz!" You held your cheek.

"Sorry, thought you were dead. Come on, Loona needs us."

~~

The van came to a sudden stop in front of the entrance. Loona was waiting outside impatiently.

Blitz rolled down the passenger window. "Hey, Loonie. How you doin', you alright?"

Loona got inside the van, sitting behind the passenger seat. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanna go." She sighed.

An Imp pointed out Blitz, "He-hey, that sounds like Blitzo!"

"O is silent, asshole!"

"He-hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where've you been? Are you here for the party?"

"N-no, I'm just here picking up my daughter."

"Oh, shit! Do you have a daughter now? Wait how does two imps have a hellhound?" Blitz's old friend pointed at you.

"Adopted!" Lonna growled.

The others was trying to convince him and Loona to not leave. You rested your head in your hand.

"I want to meet this pretty little lady." The same imp said, giving you lustfull eyes.

"Watch it!" Blitz yelled.

"Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeease?" Loona begged.

"Okay, fine. Maybe one drink."

The three got out of the van and made their way into Beezlebubs mansion. Blitz gripped your arm and pulled you aside, "If you think about doing any type of drug I will hurt you."

"How about drinking?"

"No, Y/n. Drinking after coke? That sounds like a bad idea."

"It left my system-"

"Don't care." Blitz let go of you.

Minutes later Blitz was drinking from a keg while everyone was cheering his name. You rolled your eyes and stomped off. Trying to get far away as Blitz from possible so you can either A: find stimulants, or B: get wasted.

"Oh shit, Y/n!" Beezlebub said.

"Oh, hey."

"You haven't been to my party's in a while, how have you been?"

"Good. Hey do you have stimulants per chance?"

"Fuck yes! Come on." She took your hand and led you upstairs to get the stash. "Meth, Coke, Molly, Molly laced Meth, Adderal, Adderal laced Meth-"

"Molly."

"Molly? You haven't done that one." She winked.

"Ha, yeah well, trying to expand my indulgences."

Beezlebub handed you the pill, dry swallowing, then smiled. "Thank you. Also don't tell Blitz, okay?"

"Sure thing, have fun!"

"I will!" You ran off, trying to enjoy this drug.

Beezlebub looked at her stash, "Oh shit, gave her Molly-Laced Meth, eh it's whatever."

But you didn't know that. You ran downstairs and saw some kegs. Some Imps surrounded you, "Want us to lift it up so you can drink?"

"Fuck yes!" You cheered, lying down on the ground the Imps tipped the keg, and the honey flavor drink washed down your throat.

On the other end, Beezlebub and Blitz are having a drink off.

You never felt like this before. You wiped your mouth with the long sleeve shirt as you felt your heart race, beating way faster than normal. "This feels like Meth." You slurred, having no thoughts in your head.

The drinking mixing with the molly laced meth was doing a number on your body, making your vision become blurry.

You searched for Blitz but couldn't see him. "Blitz!" You shouted as well as stumbling and fall right in the middle of the dance floor because your body became too weak. Beezlebub quickly flew over to you, kneeling down. "Hey hun, you doing alright?"

"I don't feel good." You mumbled, your heart slowly decreasing in speed.

"What else did you take?"

"Drinky."

"Oh shit." She panicked. "You came with Blitz and Loona right?"

"I came on Blitz." You quietly said.

"Okayyyy straight forward, love that about you." Beezlebub helped you up. "Blitz is over there, somewhere."

You wobbled over to where Blitz may be. You caught him making out with some dudes, almost having an orgy.

"Blitz!" You slurred.

"Y/n! Oh thank Satan. I missed you." Blitz was too drunk to realize you did something that he told you not to do. In addition, not knowing you took Meth/Molly. "Fuck, you look so hot right now."

Blitz forced himself onto a very drunk/high you, who doesn't even know what's going on. All you know is that you're enjoying this while your body is shutting down by the minutes. The other guys saw that Blitz was making out with you and  joined on in. The guys slipped their hands up your skirt as you whimpered, thinking it was Blitz. "Fuck, Blitz. Not here."

Confused, Blitz looked and saw it was another guy.

"Oh you FUCKER" He slurred, punching the taller imp.

You felt disgusted. With everything happening your body couldn't take it anymore. You slid your back on the wall and your eyes slowly shutting. You weren't dying, and you didn't fall asleep, but you felt so heavy, yet your heart was racing because of the stimulants.

Blitz not reading the room got down to your level, his lips attacking yours. You grunted, and wrapped your legs around Blitz.

"Oh, piss on a dick!" Loona picked Blitz up, not seeing you underneath who looked like you were about to go in comatose. "What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?"

"Y/n!" He pointed to you, your skirt raised a bit and your legs spread, as well as your eyes closed with your mouth opened a bit.

"Blitz it looks like you fucked Y/n while she’s asleep!"

"No I didn't," He wobbled, "She’s awake."

"Yeah? Well did you know she took Molly laced with  Meth AND drank a whole keg? She’s clearly not doing good physically."

Blitz came with a realization. He turned his head and looked at you. "Oh shit." For the first time he wasn't mad at you for doing drugs, he was worried for your safety.

"Come on." Loona picked you up and swung you over her shoulder while dragging Blitz.

The hellhound laid you in the back seat, Blitz got in and sat beside of you, slapping your face to wake up. "Come on, Y/n."

"Does she need to go to the hospital?"

"No, I don't want her to leave again."

The two argued but Loona eventually gave up.

"Do you need to throw up?"

"Mmm... no."

Loona scoffed, "Yeah, you do"

Blitz carried you inside and laid you down, keeping your head up.

"Loonie can you go to the bathroom and get Narcan?"

"Since when did you buy that?"

"If Y/n ever OD's. Bought it the moment she moved in with me."

Loona gave him a sorrowful look before grabbing it. She threw it to Blitz, he pulled the cap off with his teeth before lifting your shirt up so he can inject it into your chest. He hesitated for a bit but even he doesn't know why. Seeing you in this state breaks him, and it breaks him even more that he has to give you narcan.

He pierced it "into" your heart, gasping and getting as much air in you. You glanced at Blitz and then Loona.

"Welcome back." Loona chuckled. You were still trying to catch your breath. Blitz was in deep thought while staring at you who was hyperventilating.

"Fuck, Fizz was right. I'm gonna die alone, aren't I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?"

"I think you got bigger problems, Blitz." She motioned her head towards you.

"I'm gonna die alone...lonely." He mumbled.

"You have Y/n, dad."

"If she dies because of her addiction...I'm gonna die alone."

"She’s not going to die."

The two looked at you who was too out of it to join in the conversation. Blitz could see tears pooling in your eyes because of the light that the TV emitted.

"Now go the fuck to sleep, both of you." Loona entered her room and slammed the door.

Your breathing was back to normal, as well as your heart.

"Blitz I'm so-"

"It's okay," He slurred. "I'm not mad."

"You sure?"

"I'm mad, but I don't hate you. I'm just afraid."

"I know,"

"We can talk about this tomorrow, I'm too drunk."

He laid his head down on your legs. Mumbling some words that you couldn't make out.

Blitz started to gagged, you looked down at him, "You okay?"

Blitz vomited in a split second. "Fuck..yeah I did need to throw up."

You’re afraid this was gonna happen again. Over and over again.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

So I accidentally deleted this request but I have written it so sorry to whoever wrote it.

Request : Okok, Teen!Male!reader x Spencer Ried (platonic obvs) when reader ends up getting mixed up a crime/murder in the drug scene. They aren't the unsub but they struggle with addiction and has an ally cat type attitude so it makes it difficult to get any information out of him. Spencer is like a father figure and they start to get close, helping reader through out the case/ recovery.

I love this idea

Third person pov...

Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan arrive on scene, there is a serial killer runnng around kidnapping upstanding people then killing people by overdosing them on different drugs.

The latest victim was a mother with two children under the ages of 10, with no history of drug use she is currently the 5th victim, where they found her was in a dumpster in ohio.

"Looks like the rest of the victims" Says Derek as he kneels next to the body of Samantha Doyle. Spencer nods and looks around the scene. "As well as the dump site, he threw her away like trash." He says, as he looks he notices a boy looking no older then 15 being talked to by the police.

Confused Spence leaves Morgan and walks over to one of the police officers. "Hey excuse me, whats he doing here?" He asks nodding over at the boy and officer.

The office next to him looks over. "Oh yeah him, he's been hanging around sayin' he saw something. Don't bother with 'im he's an addict got loads of them here" he tells the agent, Spencer thanks the man but doesn't take his eyes of the teen.

The officer just sighs and leaves the boy, he was watching with intense curiosity. The boy had messy hair and dark circles under his eyes, giving the impression of a troubled soul.

Spencer's mind immediately went into profiling mode, trying to figure out the boy's story, he walked over to the boy and introduced himself, "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. And you are?"

The young man shrugged his shoulders tapping his hand nervously. "Y/N" he says bearly over a mumble but Spencer hears him. "Well Y/N, did you see anything here?" He asked.

The young detective immediately noticed the troubled look in (Y/n)'s eyes, and he could see the fear and guilt written all over his face.

Spencer's empathetic nature kicked in, and he knew that there was more to this young man than meets the eye.

(Y/n) was like a wounded alley cat, always on edge and unwilling to trust anyone. The 15 year old didn't say anything. "How about you come to the station to talk" Says the genius.

Y/N thinks before nodding, either way they were going to make him talk might as well get it over with, soon the boy is sat in the back of thr SUV with two Agents.

They try and talk to him more but only get a few words out bef they take him to the interrogation room to talk, as Y/N sits and waits he thinks over his life.

He's been hooked on drugs since he was 12 when he was 10 his Mother died leaving him with his abusive Father, he would kick little Y/N around all day until the boy finally turned to drugs to dull the pain.

It's worked all those years and he's hooked, finally when he was 14 he ran away and had beeb living on the streets, pick pocketing people who walk past him.

He met many different people throughout the last year, not many of them were nice most were arsehole and criminals, but last night traumatised him.

He was in his usual place counting the money he managed to pick pocket of some people, when he heard something. He saw a guy dressed in dark clothes throughing something in the dumpster.

Y/N didn't bother with it, but he got curious and stuck behind a dumpster and got a pretty good look at what was happening, his E/C eyes widened in shock.

It was a body, the man was throwing her into the dumpster, Y/N ducks into the darkness when the guy turns around, he gets a good look at his face before he leaves in a truck.

It was to dark to see the number plate, Y/N walks closer to the body, her lifeless eyes stare into his dark tired ones, she looked alot like his Mother.

Shivering he closed her eyes and left to go back to his place where he sleeps and tried to forget what he saw.

The door to the room opens bringing the teen back into the real world, Spencer had told everyone to stay there thay he would handle it.

He closed the door and sat in the chair oppos the boy, Y/N wasnt ha dcuffed and coukd ove but didn't he kept sat down.

Spencer decis to take a different approach, he reaches into his pocket and takes out a pack of cards.

"Mind if I play a game of solitaire?" Spencer asked, trying to lighten the mood To his surprise, the young man slowly reached out and took the cards. As they played, Spencer asked more questions, trying to get some information about the crime and the drug scene in the area.

As he played Y/N became a little more reaced but was still on guard and keeping Spencer at arms lengt.

Y/N still didn't reveal much, but Spencer could tell he was holding back. He also noticed the subtle tremors in Y/Ns hands and the needle marks on his arm.

He soon realized that Y/N was not the unsub, but rather a lost soul struggling with addiction and trauma, this brought him back to when he was addicted to delaudid.

After a few games Y/N began opening up about what he sawast night, he told him everything he remembered, this helped the team alot tk catch the bastard.

Throughout the case Without judgment, Spencer offered to help Y/N get clean and get out of the dangerous world of drugs. With the help of Y/N the team manages to catch the killer sooner than they had hoped.

As the case progressed, Spencer and the H/C teen grew closer. They spent long nights talking and playing cards, and Spencer could see the potential in the young man. He was intelligent and quick-witted, but his addiction was holding him back.

Y/N was also hesitant to trust anyone, but he slowly opened up to Spencer, after having an awful relationship with his bio father seeing him Spencer as a father figure scared him, Spence became more invested in the teens recovery and helping him turn his life around.

With the help of the team, they were able to track down the murder suspect, Y/N even played a crucial role in gathering information, using his 'alley cat attitude' to his advantage.

As the case came to a close, Spencer and Y/N celebrated with a game of cards and a heartfelt conversation. Y/N thanked Spencer for his help and guidance, and Spencer promised to always be there for him.

From that day on, Y/N focused on his recovery with the support of his new family at the BAU. He still had his struggles, but with Spencer by his side, he knew he could overcome them.

Spencer, on the other hand, learned a valuable lesson about not judging a book by its cover. Y/N may have been mixed up in the drug scene, but he was more than just an addict. He was a survivor.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, slowly getting through these requests. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1312

[str4ngr]

asked for it.

r. itoshi. | my drug, my addiction.

cw: suggestive, jealousy, teasing, gn & bratty! reader, wc: 458. notes: og prompt was for a party but i'm gonna tweak it a little so it doesn't get repetitive. this is gonna be like, a 'bonding trip' he was forced to go on, and he brought you.

The debate of PDA for Rin, who believed against it, was a losing battle.

His eyes honed in on the way his teammates fawned over you. Your beauty. Your elegance. Everything about you was perfect, of course it was. No lukewarm person could possibly be with Rin. And you couldn't ever be with some lukewarm mutt of a teammate.

Staring at the way you smiled and laughed with Bachira, lightly snacking on your tea sandwich. He felt irritated, jealousy swirling in his belly as his lips met the edge of his cup, wishing it was the warm kiss of your lips. His eyes unceremoniously glanced over your figure, taking you in for the nth time in the past hour since he had brought you here.

You had pleaded, begged, whined, and moaned, not like that but he wished, about how you wanted to accompany to his trip. Rin wanted to say no, desperately, but how could he say no to you when you wrapped your arms around him, puppy eyes making him melt. He nodded with a sigh, glaring at the wall with rosy cheeks.

He wished with every ounce in his body that he simply close his eyes and held his ground. Now he was stuck with you purposly stepping closer to Bachira, the mindless idiot not taking the hint of your mock flirtation. It was obvious it was empty-handed, it meant nothing. But that doesn't draw a line for Rin, his heart still burning with envy as your gorgeous smile graced another's eyes.

His nails dug into his palms as his eyes forced themselves away from you, buch to your dismay.

You huffed, crossing your arms as you whined to Bachira, who you were openly whining to about Rin,

"See! He doesn't even care."

Laughing in confusion, and a hint of amusment, Bachira grins,

"Make him care!"

So maybe it was a scheme. But, schemes are supposed to have an ending that gets you out of the vault with the money and with your head on, right? Apparently, not all heists for love and attention are so successful. Or at least in an sweet sense.

Luxury cars were greatly comfortable, perfect, expensive, cushiony seats that dipped under your weight. Then they dipped against as Rin pinned you down to the backseat, lips dragging down your neck,

"You want attention? right?"

He asks, more of a demand, for an answer, eyes glaring into yours. He hovers over you, hands on either side of your head, one knee to your left, the other between your thighs. You tried to respond, voice caught in the lump of arousal that clogged your throat. Your silence, intentional or not, did nothing to quell his burning jealousy,

"You get what you ask for."

notes: i hope this doesn't get repetitive...

[bunnyrafe]

sorry but rafe trying to convince you that he’s in fact sober on your date while he’s actively fighting for his life trying to keep his jaw still would be both hysterical and infuriating.

[bloodywickedlips]

Conquer all

Summary: You are new to the team and notice something is going on with Spencer Reid, all the signs are there and you want to help him.

The elevator door opened and you stepped out looking at every one doing their own business.

You were lost and had no idea where to go. Seeing someone walk past you cleared your throat and stuck your hand out.

“Hi, sorry I'm miss Y/L/N, I’m looking for SSA Hotchner” you said with a smile and the woman in front of you looked around not sure what to do and smiled back at you.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked you and you shook your head and pulled you badge out.

“no, I’m supposed to start with his team today, new member and all” I said and blushed as she stared at me with wonderment.

“oh you are the new recruit, okay, yes his office is right through there, up the stairs” she said pointing with her very out there painted nails. You smiled and went to thank her but she scurried off before you could say anything.

“weird…” you said to yourself and walked through the glass doors and to the stairs. You were aware of the eyes following you but kept your head held high and knocked on Hotchner’s door and stepped inside with the ‘come in’ you heard.

You closed the door behind you and looked at the man in front of you.

Suit and tie with piles of paper work in front of him.

“Good morning sir, I was told to see you first thing today” you said to him and watched as he stood up and walked around the table. You smiled as he stepped forward and pulled you in for a hug.

“I was told you would be joining us” he said and looked you over. “So you got the heads up to babysit your niece then?” you grumbled and he laughed. He didn’t smile often or even laugh and it was nice to see him do it.

“No I know of no such thing” he said and you rolled your eyes knowing your father for being over protective.

“Your desk is right across Reid’s , and I’ll introduce you soon” he said and motioned for you to sit down.

“I would prefer if the team didn’t know we are related” you said and he frowned at you silently questioning why.

“Back home everyone knew my dad and assumed I got in because of him, I don’t want the same happening here” you clarified for him hoping he would understand.

“I see, well the whole team is profilers so I will keep it quiet but they catch onto things quickly” Hotch said and you smiled.

“Uncle Hotch I was top of my class, and I’m very good at lying. I’m sure ill be fine” you said and stood up to set up your desk.

“then no more uncle, is Hotch only” he said and you nodded appreciatively and walked out shutting the door once again.

You looked over the desks and saw only one empty one. You sat your bag down and looked at the guy sitting by his desk across from you, he was something else, he looked like someone that just stepped off of a magazine cover. Reid you recalled your uncle saying.

“you must be Reid, I'm Y/L/N “ you said sticking your hand out. “Well hello…how can I help you?” he said obviously trying to flirt. “Morgan why are you in my chair?” a voice said to your left and as you turned to look you saw a tall guy in a sweater with beautiful brown hair. What is it with this place? Did they only hire model approved agents?

“Sorry pretty boy, I was looking for something” the guy said and it fit. Pretty boy.

“Who are you?” pretty boy asked and you couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up your neck.

“Y/N Y/L/N…I'm new to the team. And I'm guessing you are Reid and you are Morgan?” you asked and looked at spencer checking you from head to toe. It didn’t make your blushing any better.

“yeah, uh Spencer, Spencer Reid” he said and you noticed he didn’t try to shake hands with you instead he was scratching at his neck, which you could tell was already irritated from his scratching.

“and I’m Derek Morgan sweetness” the other man said and stuck his hand  out for you to shake.

You gripped his hand tightly and he turned it over “Nice ink” he said and you nodded as you looked down to your tattoo on your wrist.

It was something special to you that you had gotten a few months back, it was a stack of books with a small word saying conquer all.

Morgan let go and retreated to his own desk and you were left to set up your own. A few minutes later you were called to the meeting room and met the rest of the team before being prepped for a new case.

As you were listening to JJ explain what was happening you couldn’t help but steal glances at spencer. His leg was bouncing non stop and his eyes were never settled for long, and scratching. His neck and then elbow and then neck again. Never stopping.

After the briefing you grabbed your go bag and went over the files on the jet. You always sat on your own when working as then your mind was fully focused.

The case took four days in which you grew closer to the team and kept an eye on spencer’s antics. They never stopped.

Arriving back at the office you all had to fill in your own reports and you got a congratulations from the team on putting the profile together so quickly.

You just finished your report when you saw Spencer walk to the rest room and looked around first to see no one watching and walked after him.

You shut the men’s bathroom door and locked it behind you. There was only one cubicle door closed and you sighed, you hoped that you were wrong but all the signs were there.

“How long?” you asked out loud and heard spencer gasp “Shit..” before something dropped and it managed to roll right under the door and stop in front of your shoes. You bent down and picked it up.

Dilaudid, a narcotic painkiller.

The door flung open and spencer snatched it out of your hand.

“It’s not what you think” he said and walked to the sink to wash his hands. “Spencer talk to me” you said and frowned at him trying to help.

“Don’t call me that, it’s Doctor Reid” he snapped at you and you understood he wasn’t angry he was embarrassed.

“Reid, if you need help….” You started to say but he spun around and glared at you “I don’t know what you are talking about” he hissed and you shook your head.

“None of them know?” you asked surprised that no one has picked it up.

“Shut up, you know nothing” Spencer hissed at you and he stormed out of the bathroom and you followed after him, going to your own desk.

Spencer avoided you and you couldn’t blame him. He was angry and embarrassed, but you knew he was angry that you had picked it up and none of his team mates/ family picked it up.

“Don’t stay too late guys” Hotch said to both you and spencer and an idea struck you.

“No we are actually just leaving. Spencer and I am going to grab a coffee and a few books to read” you said smiling at your uncle.

“oh Reid can I ask you to pick up a book for Jack to read. We’ve finished the last book you gave us” Hotch said and you could see spencer wanted to decline but you mentioning going to a bookstore had him stuck.

“Sure Hotch” Spencer said and you smiled and grabbed your bag. Spencer stood up as well and pushed his chair back in a little bit too hard but Hotch didn’t seem to notice.

You walked with spencer and hotch to the elevator and waited till the doors opened to the basement where all the cars were parked.

“Come on Reid, my car is this way” you said and bid Hotch a goodnight and spencer had no choice but to follow you.

You got into the car and waited for spencer to get in, slamming your door resulting in you rolling your eyes.

You drove through the city until you got to the bookstore and looked at spencer but he was avoiding your gaze.

“Come on” you said and got out of the car and walked to the bookstore. You walked to the door and spencer huffed as he saw the closed sign on it.

“It’s closed, nice thinking” he remarked and you rolled your eyes again as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Reid just get inside” you grumbled having enough of his attitude.

Spencer frowned but walked in and followed you through the aisles after closing and locking the door.

You approached the chairs and smiled as you saw some of the few people that you knew.

“Anyone else?” you heard and sighed as you walked up and turned to face spencer that was still standing for an explanation.

“Hi everyone, my name is Y/N and I’m a recovering addict. Now we can all speak freely here as all of us are in some parts of law enforcement. So where should I start? Uh I’ve had to deal with some nasty people out there. So it all started when a case went bad, I ended up getting shot and needed surgery. I was in hospital for a long time, and there I fell into the rabid hole of morphine. I lost friends and family as my addiction got worse and I nearly overdosed while on the job. My mind was so busy that I forgot I had already shot up that morning and only a few hours later did I take another dose. My co worker found me passed out in my motel room and had to phone an ambulance. It was then and there I decided I couldn’t carry on like that. I had to be stronger and conquer this addiction. So this coming Wednesday I will be sober for a year” you explained and the people around you cheered and clapped but your eyes were only set on spencer.

He had tears in his eyes and you felt your heart break a little bit for him.

You walked back and sat down for the next person to speak. Spencer joined you and sat next to you.

“How…” spencer asked and you turned to him with a sad smile “It takes one to know one” you said softly and watched as he nodded and turned back to listen to other stories.

After the meeting was finished you said goodnight to everyone and locked the door again.

“So what you have permission to use the store?” spencer asked behind you and you chuckled.

“No, it’s mine. Only thing I found pleasure in my whole life was books. So I bought my own bookstore” you explained.

“Reid, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have gotten involved” you said and looked down at your feet.

“No I’m sorry, I was just embarrassed. And angry that none of my family is helping, but only a true friend would get in the line of fire to try and help” spencer said and you stepped up to him.

“I will help Reid, anything you need” you said and spencer nodded and reached into his bag. You frowned not knowing what he was doing until he held out his hand and when he opened it you saw the three bottles. “Take them…please” Spencer said with a tremble in his voice.

You took the bottles from him and stepped forward slowly, wrapping your arms around him.

Spencer was stiff for a few seconds before his arms circled you and a sob tore through his throat.

“It’s okay Spencer, you will get through this. I will help you” you said and hugged him tighter. You knew there were a lot of hard days ahead, detoxing was one of the worst things to go through, but you would get him through it and stay by his side.

“I’m at a disadvantage here” spencer said as he pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“You know a secrete about me but I know almost nothing about you” he said and you smiled staring up into his beautiful eyes.

“I have an uncle in the BAU” you said and watched Spencer’s eyebrow squint together trying to think who it was.

“Come on let’s grab that book my uncle asked you for” you said and laughed out loud as spencer’s eyes went wide. “Hotch!! Hotch is your uncle?” he exclaimed and you shook your head at him and grabbed his hand to lead him to the children books. You knew he wasn’t big on touching but it warmed your heart when he didn’t pull away but instead grabbed your hand tighter.

[the-west-meadow]

episode 3 spoilers!! but maybe kendall roy x reader with “How do you make the pain go away?” comforting Ken after the events of that episode??

Kendall Roy x Reader

prompt: How do you make the pain go away?

(Succession spoilers below!)

At the graveside service, Kendall sweated through his undershirt and itched for a cigarette. Strangely numb. Strangely clear. Adrenaline, he thought, or the clarity that comes with a sudden death. The realization that everything is not as it seems.

It was like he had stepped outside of reality. Like it hadn’t really happened, like this was all just a play to prepare him for the real thing.

But it was the real thing. Logan Roy was no longer in this world. Kendall was without a father. The presence that had defined his entire life was suddenly gone. His father could no longer hurt him, and at the same time there was no longer any possibility of winning his love.

He didn’t remember a single face, a single word spoken throughout the service. He shook hands, hugged people he didn’t know, allowed them to put the awkward burden of their flimsy grief onto him. Not knowing to say to someone who is in more pain than they can imagine. 

He became aware of Roman standing beside him as he stared at the casket. Behind his brother’s sunglasses, Kendall could see the furrowed brow, trying to comprehend their abrupt new reality.

“You okay?” Kendall said. 

Roman nodded, scratched his ear. Perplexed.

“I gotta say, I don’t like this,” said Roman. “Not one fucking bit.”

Kendall felt that old surge of affection, wanting to protect his younger brother from the pain of the world. But the truth was that the pain had been with them from the start. And the man who was the cause of it all was being lowered into the ground before their eyes.

Kendall’s head started spinning. He felt Roman on one side, Siobhan on the other. Stiff and stoic and trying not to lose her shit. Roman compulsively running his hand through his hair, bottom lip quivering dangerously. Kendall took his hand suddenly and squeezed it. Roman did not pull away. He squeezed back, hard. Kendall couldn’t lose it now. His siblings needed him.

When it was all over, Kendall wiped the sweat from his brow and started back towards the cars. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, hammering in his ears. Suddenly everything felt light and impossible to the touch. 

“Kendall.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. Something came alive inside him when he saw you standing there. A smile flickered to his lips.

“Hey.”

He put his hand on top of yours. Warm and damp with nervous sweat.

“You okay?”

He shook his head fervently. “I think I’m about to completely lose it.”

“Come here.”

You hurried him away from the crowds, towards a shaded corner of the cemetery where your car was parked.

“Can you get me out of here?” he asked, almost pleading. 

“Back to your apartment?”

“I can’t be there right now. Just take me to the beach. Anywhere.”

He sat in the passenger seat with a thousand-mile stare, watching the traffic, the buildings fade away as you left the city. The drive was long enough to calm him, to numb the pain temporarily. 

It was near evening when you finally reached the beach, a scrap of coast populated by small cottages, a few soaring hotels along the shore. Kendall staggered out of the car, still in his black suit, black tie, eyes obscured by his dark sunglasses. You crossed the sandy parking lot and started down the boardwalk to the beach. Far down the shore, the sea mist turned hazy in the setting sun. A few people walked slowly along, distant figures lost in the haze.

Kendall collapsed in the dunes, wrapping his arms around his knees, staring out at the ocean. You huddled next to him, close by in case he needed you.

“He’s dead,” Kendall said, matter-of-fact. 

“I’m sorry, Kendall…”

“You know what I really want right now?”

“What?”

“I want to go on the biggest bender of all time. I want to get drunk out of my mind. I want to snort so much coke that my heart will never settle. I want to shoot up until I can’t feel anything anymore.”

A smile appeared on his face at the thought. 

“That would be really fucking nice right now.”

But the smile slowly faded.

“But that’s exactly how my dad would expect me to react. I don’t think he ever saw me as much more than an emotionally unstable addict. So I can’t give him the satisfaction of getting fucked up.”

His face began to crumple, eyes filling with tears as he gazed out at the ocean.

“But now I’m stuck with this monumental fucking pain. I don’t know how to handle it without the drugs.”

He turned to look at you, face full of desperation.

“How do you make the pain go away?”

You could do nothing but take his head in your hands and pull him into you. That was when he broke down completely. He wept with his head against your chest, his hands grasping at your back. Long, painful sobs. His tears soaked through your shirt as you buried your face in his black hair. 

“Shh…” you said, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Kendall.”

Finally he emerged, face streaming. The light from the setting sun glowed on his skin. All of his feelings surging with the tide. 

“You know the worst part?”

He broke into a smile, choking with tears. 

“I’m fucking relieved. I would never say that to anyone else. But I am. I’m relieved. And you know how fucking guilty that makes me feel? To be relieved that my dad is dead?”

He laughed, wiping his eyes, shaking. 

“That motherfucker.”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel that way.”

“Yeah?”

“He hurt you. You were used to being hurt by him. You didn’t know what his love felt like. His love felt like pain.”

Kendall shrugged off his blazer, kicked off his shoes, stripped his socks off. He rolled up his sleeves, buried his feet in the sand, and stared out at the sea, taking deep breaths. You ran your hand up and down his back. 

“I think I at least deserve a cigarette.”

He looked at you, finally calm. 

“What do you think?”

You nodded with a smile. He dug into his jacket pocket, pulled out his American Spirits and a lighter, handed you one. He leaned in and lit it for you, cupping your hand in his. 

“I don’t know who I am without him.”

He looked at you, hesitant and guilty. But a flicker of resolve in his eyes. 

“Maybe I can finally find out.”