#i figured out where my lightning brushes were after finishing this and i'm not gonna go back and change it to include that

[jokerx-art]

rough background practice but it's ews

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter nineteen

genre: fluff!! some angst

warnings: mentions of prison, ptsd and its symptoms (flashbacks, kinda)

word count: 6.1k

summary: spencer gets home and amelia helps him keep his head on straight.

pairing: season twelve/thirteen spencer reid x oc

AMELIA

Stepping back into my apartment after being away for over twenty-four hours is such a relief. Spencer, for some reason, didn't want to go back to his own apartment, so I happily bring him right to mine.

He's half asleep in my passenger seat, his head resting against the window and his hand smushed against his cheek. Despite the challenging circumstances, at every red light, I gaze over to admire how adorable he looks with puffy cheeks and flushed skin. He's fighting sleep as we journey to my apartment, and even though I've told him that he doesn't have to, I still see him forcing his eyes open every few seconds.

When we're just a few minutes from my apartment, I finally speak up. "So," I murmur, and he lifts his head slightly, "do you wanna do anything when we get home, or do you wanna go right to sleep?"

Spencer shakes his head and adjusts his position so he's leaning more towards me, his head almost resting on my shoulder. "I'm really tired but I'm hungry. And I wanna shower too. Do you have my stuff at your apartment still?"

"Of course I do, doll," I smile, reaching my hand over to rest on his cheek, keeping my eyes on the road. "I have your go-bag too. So a shower, some food, and then sleep. We can do that," Spencer turns his head and kisses my palm, capturing my hand in his and bring them into his lap. I pull up in front of my apartment and park my car, smiling over at my hazy and sleepy boyfriend. "Here, Spence."

We climb out of my car and go trudging up to my apartment, and I push my keys into the lock. I twist it but it doesn't make the clicking sound to tell me it's unlocked, so I pull out the keys. I put them in again and twist one more time, and when the lock doesn't click, I pull the keys out for the second time. I figure that my friends might just be major idiots and have forgotten to lock the door after they left yesterday, so I tuck the keys in my pocket and twist the knob. It pops right open. Great. My door has been unlocked for over twenty-four hours.

Spencer isn't paying much mind to this though as we trudge in, kicking off our shoes. I hang up my jacket and turn to Spencer to ask for his jacket so I can put it in the washer, but his gaze is somewhere else. I follow where he's looking and find that the balcony doors are slightly open, and I roll my eyes. This keeps happening to me. These damn balcony doors. Between the balcony and front doors being open, I'm surprised that all of my belongings aren't completely gone.

"Don't worry about it, Spence," I tell him, dramatically flipping the lock on my front door so we can both hear the clicking noise and then padding across my apartment to flip the lock on the balcony door. Honestly though, my hands are trembling as I touch the knobs. Why are my door continuously unlocked? I try to brush it off for Spencer's sake. "My friends were here when I left to pick you up and I'm sure they forgot to close and lock everything. It's fine. It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

Spencer nods and rubs his eyes, then begins to speak through a loud yawn. "You should yell at your friends."

It's just another moment of the old Spencer shining through the armor that the new Spencer is wearing. This exhausted and bleary and witty version of my boyfriend is who I have embedded in my brain, not the version who yells at me and throws books at walls and jumps away from my touch. I wish I could frame this moment and hang it on the wall.

"Come on," I wave him towards the kitchen and he follows me blindly, falling into a barstool at the island, leaning his elbows against the granite. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up and his forearms are far too distracting for anyone's good, and I have to tear my eyes away from him before I get carried away. I'm just too deprived of sex and satisfaction that maybe any intimate sight of Spencer will get me going. Even if it's his hands, or his forearms, or his fingers-- oh god, look away.

"Is there anything specific you want?" I take a glance through my fridge at the ingredients I have before turning back to him. His hands are on his cheeks now, distorting his face in that same adorable way it was in the car. "I'll make you whatever you're feeling."

"Just something, um," he speaks quietly, "easy. Pancakes, or something."

"Sure, I can do that," I reach into the cupboard and pull out the pancake mix, retrieving a bowl and a skillet.

"I'm gonna go put a record on," Spencer drags himself out of his chair and into the living room and I can hear him rummaging through the mess in there.

He's utterly exhausted. I've seen him tired after cases, but never liked this. He can barely even speak a full sentence or walk in a straight line. So I combine ingredients quickly, hoping that the stove warms up at lightning speed so I can cook these pancakes as fast as possible. I want to get Spencer food, and then into a shower, and then into bed. I couldn't care less about my needs. I just can't bear seeing him dragging himself around like this anymore.

My ears perk up when the record scratches and then the music starts, and State of Grace by Taylor Swift starts playing. I watch Spencer come back in and sit down again, his eyes closed as he absorbs the music. I expected him to put on one of the many classical records I have, like Mozart or Beethoven or Brahms. But no, he put on Taylor Swift. I choose not to comment on the music choice and instead, I pour the batter on the hot skillet.

It's only five minutes before I have a stack of pancakes and I've run out of batter. I turn off the burner and divide up the pancakes onto two plates, grabbing two forks and the maple syrup from the fridge. Spencer gives me a tiny smile as he reaches for his plate, digging in without even waiting for the syrup.

I drizzle a fair amount of syrup on my own pancakes and then pick up my fork, about to eat my first meal in twenty-four hours, but then I look at Spencer. He's scarfing down his food like his life depends on it, and I wonder if he's even chewing it at all. His head is bowed all the way down, nose almost touching the pancake stack as he snakes his fork under his chin, and his free hand is on the table with his fingers spread, and before I can blink again, he's halfway through his plate.

"Hey, hey, Spence," I reach my hand out for him, but he doesn't react. This is what happened when he threw the book. He got in his head, then I touched him, and he freaked out. I can't let that happen again. So I sit up on my knees and lean toward him, placing my hands flat against the table so, again, he can see that I don't plan on touching him or using them against him. "Spencer, look at me," he digs his fork into the pancake but his hand falters, slowing down. "Eyes up here, dove."

Spencer's eyes slowly travel up until they lock with mine, and they hold the same panicked qualities that they did post-book-throwing. I offer him a smile, but he doesn't give one back, not that I expected him to.

"Spencer," I speak slowly and calmly, "nobody's here. It's just you and me. You can slow down. You have all the time in the world to eat," Spencer takes a labored breath through his nose and shakes his head, closing his eyes. "I promise, dove, and you know I don't break my promises. You can slow down, you can just be with me. You're with me, and that's it."

"It's just--" he hangs his head and then opens his eyes, staring at his half-empty plate, "sitting like this. It feels-- it feels like-- it just-- it's--"

For some reason, I understand what he can't say. From how he's sitting in such a defensive and protected position and now he's saying that there's a problem with how he's sitting, it makes sense to me. Somehow, sitting like his makes him think of sitting and eating in prison and having to, I don't know, protect his food, maybe. I don't know much of anything about prison but I didn't think that it would change the way he eats meals.

"Okay, okay," I cut off his stuttering, nodding softly so I can seem as understanding as possible. "Come on then," I pull back my hands and grab my plate, sliding off the barstool and pressing my back against the kitchen cabinets, slowly sliding down. "How about we sit on the floor? Would that be okay?"

Spencer stares at me sliding onto the floor and it takes him quite a while to grab onto his plate and join me. He slides down beside me and extends his legs in front of him, setting his plate on his lap. He takes a long, deep breath and starts slicing into his pancakes again, much slower this time.

"Is this better?" I ask softly. "You can tell me if it's not because we could move somewhere else," I start to cut into my own food again, keeping my eyes on him.

"Yeah," he murmurs, and then he slumps down a little bit more so he can rest his head on my shoulder. Spencer is eating like a snail now, moving his hand so slowly that I have to keep looking down to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep on my shoulder. We just eat in tense silence, and as badly as I want to touch him and comfort him and smother him in love like I imagined I would be by now, I get the feeling that he would hate that and it would overwhelm him.

Not surprisingly, Spencer finishes his pancakes before me and gently places his fork down on his plate, setting his trembling hands flat on his lap. I expect Spencer to get up and discard his plate in the sink or the dishwasher and then head upstairs and jump in a shower, but he doesn't move. He stays right beside me with his head on my shoulder so I start to pick up my eating pace so we can get going. If he's not going to move without me then I don't want to make him sit here forever.

"Can I take your plate for you?" I whisper once I've finally finished my pancakes. The sun has fully risen and is blaring through the windows, and it feels so twisted to be so exhausted, so early in the morning.

Spencer nods, but he doesn't offer the plate up to me. I pick it up off his lap gingerly and wait for Spencer to lift his head before standing, putting them in the sink to deal with later. I turn back to Spencer, who's still on the floor, and hold my hands out to him to help him up. He looks at my feet first, and then incredibly slowly drags his eyes up my body until his eyes lock with mine. He seems so distant. He seems so far away and so far gone. His eyes are glossed over and his movements are like that of a sloth, starkly contrasting his quick actions just a few minutes before.

I very gently thrust my hands forward again, wiggling my fingers in his direction to get his attention. "Let's go get you in a shower, okay? I bet it'll make you feel a lot better."

Spencer looks up at me with a heartbreaking gaze, as if he can't even see me. As if he's staring right through me. As if he can't even see me at all. But then he pushes himself up by his lonesome and runs his hands down his face.

"Um," he breathes, his voice so low that I barely hear it, "thank you for-- you know, for the food," He keeps his eyes down on the floor, his body turned slightly away from me as if he's cowering from my touch again.

"No need to thank me, love. But let's just head upstairs and get you into a shower, okay?" I wave him out of the kitchen and he slumps off towards the stairs.

I watch him go, and once he gets on the first step, I go into the living room to shut off the record that Spencer has put on. Taylor Swift, huh? I have to make a mental note to ask Spencer about that when we're better rested.

Once I've put the record away, I follow Spencer up the stairs and I find him rummaging through my closet, already having dumped out all the items from his go-bag on the bed. His back is turned to me, too focused on finding clothes in my closet. I go to the pile of clothes and separate the work clothes from his pajamas, making two separate sections for him and trying to smooth out wrinkles from the fabrics.

"Sweets," even when I speak, he doesn't acknowledge my presence, "what are you looking for in there? I know you've got some clothes in there but you've got two whole sets of pajamas right here. They're clean, I've cleaned these clothes."

"I need a white tee-shirt," Spencer tells me and his voice is sharper now. It's not quiet and timid like in the kitchen. It's the exact opposite of the man that was just in my apartment a moment ago.

"Why?" I look down at the pair of pajama pants and the crew neck on the bed in front of me, right next to a different pair of pajamas, a matching silk set that Spencer commonly wears to sleep. Why isn't this good enough for him? If anything, this will keep him more comfortable during bed than just a tee-shirt. "There's two pajama sets right here for you that--"

"I need a white tee shirt, okay?!" Spencer snaps, turning his head to me, but still never looking me in the eye. "I need to wear a white tee-shirt to bed!"

I let out a shaky breath at the venom dripping from his mouth, reaching for the clothes in front of me and just grasping them in my hand, grasping for something to ground me. Although, maybe I'm not the one who needs the grounding right now.

I hear Spencer sigh behind me as he finds a white tee-shirt, and when he comes to the bed beside me, he takes a pair of pajama pants and boxers out of my hands. I move around him to put the other clothes back into his go bag, setting it in the corner of the room and then sifting through my closet for a crew neck and a pair of shorts. I do everything in my power to forgive and forget the moment that is making my hands tremble and my head dizzy. Spencer never yells. And he definitely never yells at me.

I hear the bathroom door open as I put my clothes onto the bed and pull off my tank top, but when I don't hear the water turn on, I turn to check on Spencer. He's still standing in the doorway, clutching his clothes in his hands and staring at the shower door.

"Spence?" He jumps when I speak his name as if he momentarily forgot that I was in the same room as him. And when he turns to me, he's back to the man he was in the kitchen. Quiet, timid, desperate. His eyes are pleading for me, and I feel helpless knowing I don't know exactly how to help him. I disregard my clothes and walk toward him, but don't make an effort to touch him. "Love, you can shower, it's okay. You'll feel much better when you wash off all the sweat and grossness of the--" I pause, wanting to say one certain word but knowing I shouldn't. I settle with a safer word, "day."

Spencer pouts his pretty lips and his hands tighten around the pile of clothes in his hands. "Could you-- um-- could you come with me? I don't wanna be alone right now," and perhaps it seems like a rude comparison, but he looks like a small child. He looks like a child who's woken up from a nightmare, clutching his pillow to his chest, asking his mom to come to his room to scare away the monster under his bed. But I'll never be able to scare away the monster under Spencer's bed. We both know that and we both seem to be ignoring it. For now, we'll pretend that I can remedy every issue in the world and continue on with our day.

I toss my tank top into the hamper across the room and then walk over to Spencer, leaning against the doorframe across from him. "Are you gonna be comfortable with that, dove?"

Spencer nods quickly, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "I'll be okay. I really don't wanna be alone. I want you."

I glance at the shower and then back at Spencer with his greasy hair and his half-lidded eyes and his hunched shoulders, and I nod. If he gets uncomfortable again, I'll just get out. He needs a shower more than me anyway, and if I need to get out of the shower because he doesn't want me touching him, then it's not the end of the world. Spencer breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the bathroom, setting his clothes on the sink counter. I grab two towels from the closet and start the shower, leaving the door open a crack so the steam can escape.

Spencer strips off his clothes before I do and, holy shit, I almost gasp. Now, for the millionth time, I have no idea what prison is like. I only know tiny bits of what Spencer went through, like getting beat up and eventually stabbing himself and getting thrown into solitary confinement. I don't know what he did during the time that he was stuck in his cell by himself, or what he did to pass the time when he wasn't in his cell. Honestly, I don't really know what he did at all in prison.

But holy shit. Spencer's arms are far more toned than I remember them to be and his stomach is too, and if Derek Morgan were here, I'd bet good money that he would be impressed. Even Spencer's calves and quads look more toned than before, and every time he moves, every one of his muscles flexes in the most delicious and sexy way. How much did he work out in prison? Did he work out every second of every day? I wasn't expecting this type of transformation from him, but he's been full of surprises. And after a moment of staring, I wonder if this is a good change or not.

"Why are you staring?" Spencer has just reached for the waistband of his boxers but paused when he saw me standing still and staring, then his hands stilled.

"Um," I have to physically jerk my head to the side to break my gaze and force my eye line up to his pupils, "sorry, I was just-- you--"

"I what?" Spencer retorts, and thankfully, he doesn't sound angry. He sounds genuinely curious.

"You just look different. More, you know, muscular," I try to choose my words carefully because I don't want to offend him. I don't want to make it seem like I hate his body now, or that I hated his body before prison because neither is the case. I could never hate his body. I'm not with him for his body. His body is beautiful regardless. This is just such a difference from what I'm used to seeing from my boyfriend. This is just another part of him that has been taken away from him. His soft body is gone as if he has morphed himself into an intimidating alpha male. I never wanted an alpha male. I've only ever wanted my Spencer.

"I worked out a lot," Spencer mumbles vaguely. He barely tells me any details about prison. The most he told me was while we were eating. And even still, he didn't give me specifics during dinner. He left me to guess exactly what was wrong. It's all been vague so far. I'm not sure if that's because he's protecting me or because he just can't bring himself to talk about it yet.

"Let's get in the shower so we can get some sleep," I want to nudge him towards the open shower curtain and the warm, streaming water. But Spencer moves on his own, shuffling towards the shower and quickly discarding his boxers.

He seems hesitant to get into the water at first, just standing at the edge of the tub and letting the water hit his toes first. Spencer stares at the stream of water, reaching his foot out a bit more to get his ankle and shin wet. I watch him carefully for a moment, just to make sure he doesn't freak out like he has a few times already today.

Spencer's head turns to me and he gives me a pleading look, his eyebrows scrunched up and his bottom lip between his teeth. He's clearly keeping tears at bay, trying to prevent his chin from quivering. "Lia," he stammers, but doesn't say anything else. A single tear falls down his cheek.

I quickly pull off my undergarments and move the shower door back a little bit more, stepping into the tub so I'm in the stream of water. I hold my hands out for him, and this time, he actually grabs onto them. I draw him closer to me. Not closer to the stream of water, but just closer to my body.

"It's just water, Spence," I tip my head back and wet my mane of curls, matting them down to my head. "It actually feels really good."

"It's just," Spencer shuffles just a little bit closer to me. The tips of his toes touch mine, his whole body flinching when a droplet of water ricochets off of me and hits his chest, "the showers were always cold."

"Oh," I turn and look at the knobs behind me that control the water temperature, "I can make it cold if you want. It's not a big deal if--"

"No, no, I don't want that," he shakes his head, clutching my hands tightly in his. "I don't wanna take another cold shower. It just feels weird. I'm not used to it."

I scrunch up my nose, unlacing our hands and tracing my fingertips up his forearms. I wonder if I should even let myself touch his biceps because if I do, I might completely lose my cool and want to jump his bones. Clearly, he's not ready for sex or any kind of physical intimacy. I didn't even expect us to be showering together any time soon. "I don't like cold showers, either. You know that. Do you wanna get under the water?"

Spencer nods and grabs my hands again, switching our spots so he's directly under the stream. I don't let go of him as he sighs of relief, the water falling over his face and making his hair stick to his forehead. He closes his eyes, dropping his shoulders down. This is, by far, the most relaxed I've seen him all day. He seemed to be relaxed in the car, but now, he has completely let his guard down for the first time. It's a beautiful sight, truly. It's beautiful to see him running his hands through his hair and reaching for his shampoo and fluttering his eyelids. He's always been so beautiful.

I shave my legs while Spencer washes his body, and he spends quite a lot of time doing so. I'm not surprised that he wants to wash every germ off his body, I'd expected that much. And we keep in silence, just washing away the stress and drama and hardships of the last few months. I wish that a simple shower could wash away all the pain that we've been cursed with, but I know that this pain may never go away. The pain of this time will always linger, no matter how hard we try to eradicate it.

"Are you gonna shave?" I ask, switching places one more time with Spencer so I could wash my face.

"You said you liked it so--"

"Yeah, but it's your face. If you wanna shave, then shave. Don't let me stop you," I wipe away the soap from my eyes and smile at Spencer, gesturing to where his razor still sits along the wall.

Spencer runs his hands over his face, feeling his mustache and beard on his fingertips. "I'll keep it for now. Maybe tomorrow I'll clean it up a little but I don't wanna deal with it today."

"Well let's go get some sleep, okay?" I turn around and shut off the water, wringing out my hair so it doesn't drip onto the floor. Spencer gets out and quickly wraps himself in a towel, and when I step out a moment after him, he hands my towel to me. "Thanks."

I head out of the bathroom and reach for my clothes, pulling on a pair of underwear and one of Spencer's old tee-shirts. I dry off my hair a little bit and sit on the edge of the bed, putting lotion on my legs and keeping my eyes on the bathroom door for when Spencer eventually comes out.

He takes forever to get dressed, but when he does, he's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white tee-shirt, his hair soaked and hanging over his forehead. He drops his towel in the hamper and then he turns on his heel to join me in bed, but freezes in his spot when he sees my towel on the floor. He quickly picks it up off the floor and puts it into the hamper, then he scans the floor of the room for anything else that could be out of place.

"Babe?" I close off the lid on my bottle of lotion and put it away, watching him put a pair of my shoes into the closet and then jam the door closed. "Spencer, if you really wanna clean, do it when you can actually keep your eyes open. Come get some sleep, please."

Spencer lets out an exasperated sigh as his hands drop from the closet handle, and then they smooth through his hair. He nods silently, and his toes drag against the carpet as he brings himself towards the bed.

He falls onto his side, pulling back the duvet and slipping under, letting out a sound close to a moan as his body sinks into the bed. His head falls onto the pillow and he moans louder, his body wiggling under the covers. I smile at his pure and unfiltered ecstasy and pleasure, doing the same and slipping under the duvet with him.

I keep a bit of distance between us though. Usually, I'd slide my leg through his and wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest and get as close to him as I possibly can. But he's so caught up in the familiarity and comfortability of my bed that I don't want to overwhelm him by touching him. I want him to enjoy his first time in a proper bed in months and not worry about my hands on his skin.

I let out a roaring yawn, rolling onto my side to face Spencer. Now that I'm laying in bed, my exhaustion is setting in yet again. I pull the duvet up to my chin and close my eyes, trying to let myself drift off to sleep.

I'm just about to dip into dreamland when I feel Spencer shift beside me, facing me. I try to ignore it, try to bring myself closer to sleep, try to let us both get the rest that we so desperately need. But I can sense Spencer's gaze on me, and as hard as I try to, I can't ignore it. I just want him to go to sleep. I want him to sleep so he can regenerate and hopefully feel better whenever it is that we wake up. But my forehead is burning with his stare and I can't stop feeling it. Clearly, something is affecting him and that's why he hasn't tried to sleep yet.

To my surprise, Spencer's voice is the one to break through the silence. "Baby?" He's shaky. He's trembling. He's unsure.

I open my eyes, seeing tears pouring down his cheeks and his hand in midair, just a few inches in front of my face. "Spencer," I breathe, watching his hand drops onto the bed between us. "What's wrong?" Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, and his hand clutches the bed sheet until his knuckles turn white. He breathes in harshly through his nose and he draws his knees up to his chest, curling into a tiny ball. "Dove, talk to me."

Spencer's other hand comes down to the bed to join his other, squeezing so tightly that I fear he might rip a hole in the fabric. I see his arms start to shake with the force he's using to hold the bedsheet, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and staining the pillow. He hiccups, but not too loud. Barely loud enough for me to hear. "Lia," he sobs, completely breaking down right before my eyes, "please hold me."

I want to jump his bones. I want to get on top of him and smother him in love and affection and kisses. I want to give him everything I know we've both been craving for months. I want to give him exactly what he's asking for. But I've spent most of my day doing what I can to not overwhelm him and that's not going to change now.

I debate for a moment on how I should touch him first. Should I wipe his tears? Should I hold his hand? Should I wrap my arm around his waist? Should I drag my fingers along his arm? What could I do that won't freak him out?

But then I notice, again, that his eyes are closed. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's not looking at me. I remember how he reacted in the round table room when I touched him when he couldn't see it coming. He jumped and cowered away from me. He didn't take well to getting touched without seeing it.

"Spencer," I whisper, "open your eyes." His eyebrows scrunch up at my request but he doesn't follow it. "Come on, baby, I wanna see your pretty eyes. I haven't been able to see them in so long. Open your eyes for me," I watch Spencer carefully as he holds his breath, forcing his eyelids open, releasing more tears. "There you go, Spence. Thank you, lovey. So pretty. Your eyes are so pretty."

I raise my hand and let it linger in the air for a moment before reaching towards Spencer's face. I drag my fingers along his jawline then lay my hand flat against his cheek. Spencer's lips part when he lets out a shaky sigh, nuzzling his cheek against the palm of my hand. I give him a moment to revel in this type of contact, just staring into his eyes and gauging his reaction. He isn't cowering away and he hasn't screamed at me yet, so I take that as a good sign.

I bring my other hand forward and press my fingers against the back of his hand, feeling him already start to ease his grip. I can't attest for his other hand, but he flattens his hand against the bed, allowing me to lock our fingers together in an awkward, backwards handhold.

"I've got you," I whisper, swiping my thumb across his cheeks to rid his skin of stinging tears. His eyes are locked on mine and he doesn't dare to avert his gaze from my blue eyes that I know he loves so much.

Spencer sucks in a breath and tugs on my hand, wanting me even closer. So I wiggle my hips to diminish the gap between us, leaving some space still. I move my head so we're sharing a pillow, the same pillow that I used to clutch when I was missing Spencer so intensely that I needed to smell his cologne and remember that he would come home to me soon.

"It hurts," he slurs, and his eyelids are so heavy that he can barely keep them open. But he fights with all his strength against the sleep that wants to suck him in, sticking his eyes to me. His eyes plead for help, a type of help that I don't know if I can provide.

"Oh, my baby," I coo, bringing my face right in front of him, "you're safe. You're home. You don't have to go back to that horrible place again. You're right here and you can rest, okay? It's okay to rest now."

I feel him moving under the sheets and it takes everything in me to not look at what he's doing. But I feel his legs touching mine, and then one of his slips between mine a moment later. Even though he initiated this contact, I wait, yet again, for his reaction. His face doesn't change.

"Can I touch you some more?" Spencer nods quickly, his facial hair scratching my palm. "Can I hug you?" He nods again, and with this obvious consent, I almost sigh of relief.

I slide my hand down Spencer's neck, then down his arm, and to his stomach. I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling my body forward so I'm flush against him. With this, he finally lets his eyelids flutter closed, lips parted as he breathes heavily. His skin feels so warm against mine and I can already feel beads of sweat collecting at my hairline, but I ignore their presence.

"Go to sleep," I murmur, bringing our entwined hands up to the pillow between our faces. "I'm here right now, I'm gonna be here when you wake up, I'm gonna be here tomorrow, and the day after, and the next day, and every day after that. I'm not going anywhere. And if you need me then don't hesitate to wake me up. But I need you to get some sleep, okay? Can you do that for me?" Spencer nods yet again, and he flips his hand around so we can properly hold hands. I smile at his responsiveness. "Let me hear you say it, doll."

Spencer nuzzles his cheek against the pillow, scooting a bit closer to me. "I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

"Good," I slip my hand under his tee shirt and rest it flat against his hot skin, earning a small gasp from him, but I don't do any more than that. "I'm right here, baby boy. I'm not gonna let go of your hand and I'm not gonna get out of bed before you. I'll be right here the whole time. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"I love you," Spencer whispers but his words are barely coherent as his exhaustion becomes too much to handle. His lips are barely moving and his grip on my hand, and on the sheets, are loosening.

"I love you too, dove."

I watch him closely until I know, for sure, that he's fallen asleep. I wouldn't want his eyes to pop open again and for him to panic. But I keep my promise and I don't let go of his hand, or move my hand from in his shirt, or get out of bed. I just close my eyes and drift off into the most restless sleep I've had yet.

TAGLIST

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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part one)

part two part three part four part five. Find the rest on; Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

"Remind me once again why we're going to Japan? It's clear you'd never take us there just because you miss Victor and I know by experience that it's not because of his apprentice."

First class flight like usual. The view out the airplane window of the sparkling city at nighttime below them would stun anybody but at this point, Yuri has traveled so many times it's only become regular sights and the lights of the streets are only plain colored spots in a dark void to him these days. One thing he will never feel comfortable with though is staying in the same seat for hours on end until the airplane arrives at its destination. His legs are itching from wanting to move around. He'll just have to jog it off back on the ground like every other trip in the past.

"You'll be spending some time with Yuuri Katsuki and Victor the following weeks to gain your fighting spirit back. You need to get back in touch with your emotions, remember?" Yakov slightly turned his posture towards the Russian skater beside him, folding his newspaper in half and putting it in his lap.

He only nodded with a slight hum. He could see Yakov's reasoning, some parts of it at least. He HAD been lacking in emotional performance ever since the new year began and it was time to get back into the mindset of winning yet another Grand Prix gold medal like last year. No, not last year. Last year's competition was cancelled after a minor pandemic spread through Russia and the nearby regions. In fear of the virus spreading, all competitions cancelled and larger crowded areas were forbidden to take place. Therefore Yuri's only been able to practice by himself and keeping himself fit for a possible competition next year. But a year of doing nothing can really change your spirit and afraid to admitting it to his coach, he's been missing several opportunities to hit the rink and stayed home watching anime or scrolled through social media instead.

But one thing he doesn't get is how Victor and Yuuri are gonna make him get his mindset in the right track again. He already won his first gold medal at his senior debut and he doubt that the Japanese skater will be in any better condition than Yuri's currently in right now. Pig-man must've been in a much worse state considering his boo Victor had to stay in Russia during the pandemic, unable to keep an eye on Yuuri's routines.

"Besides, there's a little surprise waiting for you where you'll be staying with the two of them. It better work out fine or else I'm out of ideas."

That caught his attention to say the least.

"Well if it's supposed to save me from the deep end then why be so secretive and hushy with it? Spill the news, Yakov."

The old man only grunted and picked up his newspaper once again and hid his face behind it. Well now he really wanted to know what it was. Clearly he would have to make some effort. Soon the article about a Russian charity event taking place this weekend got replaced with a clenched fist going straight through the back of the paper. Yuri expected some kind of reaction but Yakov only sighed and leaned back in his seat without even a flinch.

"It's no surprise if I tell you. I promised Victor to keep it a secret."

"Tell me."

"No."

Yuri groaned and folded his arms with a sour glare. The display in the ceiling told the traveler's that it was 10 minutes until landing so he gave up his attempts and let his eyes rest for a while. At least he would find out tomorrow, he assumed. It was 2am and he would be staying at a hotel close to the airport since it was too late to make rest of the trip in one day.

Yuri was out with the speed of a lightning bolt the second the plane doors opened. He sped past everyone before him and he didn't stop when he finally got outside. His feet carried him to run circles around the plane meanwhile he was waiting for Yakov to get out the normal way. It's a silly habit of his and he knows he looks stupid doing it but his coach has given him strict orders to not run away at one random direction like used to do at first. It would take like half an hour for him to be found once he took off, but only if he got lost.

"Yuri! Get over here!"

Well, there's his cue to get ready and head to the hotel. Finally he's able to get some sleep before he's forced to wake up early at dawn to head to Hot Springs and meet the two most annoying people in Japan.

...

He didn't even have time to eat breakfast. He overslept and got rushed to the cab with an angry Yakov behind him, newspaper folded tightly in his fist. The trip through the beautiful Japan would've been pleasant if Yuri hadn't dozed off every 10 seconds. He didn't get much sleep after all. He spent at least three hours thinking about the special surprise and raiding the free mini bar before he finally got to rest. At 8am he was woken up with banging on the door and now, at 10am, he was standing at the entrance of Hot Springs waiting for Yuuri's mom to announce their arrival. She hurried away somewhere with her usual bubbly happy self that Yuri had no idea how a person could be so... not moody all day long.

The place was as crowded with customers as last time and the two Russians were told to step inside to the more private parts of the building where the family lived along with Victor at the moment.

"Victor! How come my brand new lotion is used? You smelled a suspicious amount of peaches and wild berries at breakfast and there's no point denying it!" A fairly soft and modulated voice was heard from somewhere to the left where the private shower stalls were located. A couple seconds later a giggly Victor and Yuuri came through the direction of the living room and greeted Yuri with happy cheers. The slender white haired Russian caught Yakov in a bear hug, much to the old man's surprise. Yuuri extended his hand towards Yuri but Yuri didn't give any effort in taking it.

"Food. I'm starving."

Yuuri dropped his hand with a light blush but Victor pouted and let go of his former coach. Strong and clingy arms were suddenly wrapped around his chest and he couldn't breathe.

"So unpolite... Yuriooo we've missed you! Haven't you missed us?"

Yuri thrashed like a fish caught in a net and tried to hit the arms of the bastard trapping him. Yuuri joined in, only to get a kick in the hip. His stomach growled angrily and the endless void in his body didn't lighten up the experience a bit.

"Let go you old man! You too piglet!"

"I hoped you'd say it out loud but I know that deep down you've been missing us, Yuriii." Victor went to whisper in his ear with pouty lips but was swatted away by a backhand in his face. That finally caused him to let go and Yuri jumped out of reach for the two males.

"Hm... Or not." The expression he got from Victor was sad and pouty and the man earned a hand on his shoulder, put there by Yuuri. Yuri could only sigh and shake his head.

"Victor! Did you steal my shampoo too?! I will- Oh? What now?" Yuri turned around abruptly by the unfamiliar yet familiar voice behind him. His eyes widened.

The girl was standing to the left of the hall, seemingly coming from the shower. A curious hand rested against the wall beside her and her face was covered in a grey clay face mask, a toothbrush lazily hanging from the corner of her lips. Her (h/c) eyes glistened with mild shock along with her mouth hanging slightly open.

"You are early... Victor, you told me they would arrive at 1pm1!" She pointed a strict finger at the tall man who scratched the back of his head with a hesitant laugh. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed her toothbrush. Because even if she was standing unprepared in front of two strangers, she would at least not forget to brush her teeth in the process, as you do.

Yuri might've considered it normal if it wasn't for that she was almost naked. Two towels were the only fabric hiding her, one wrapped around her dripping figure and the other tied up in her hair.

"Yeah, about that! I kind of mixed up the time of their arrival and your meeting with the press, that's, by the way now when I think of it, not actually cancelled but later today. Silly of me to forget, right?"

She eyed him as though her bullshit meter was ticking in the red zone and let out a huff. Yuri had to advert his gaze when it suddenly felt intruding to eye her the way he did. He also turned away because a light tint of pink was creeping up his cheeks.

"Right. Thanks for the early update. I appreciate it, really. I'll be with you again in 30 minutes. Don't wait up for me." And with that, she was gone. The silence of the men maintained for a few moments until Yuuri coughed with an awkward smile, his red cheeks still visible even after the girl had disappeared. 'It's a little weird to blush at your almost naked sister' he thought.

"So food, right? Mom is preparing pork cutlet bowls for you, Yurio, since she remembered how much you liked them last time-" He didn't have to say it twice. Yuri was off to the dining area before the man even finished saying 'pork cutlet bowl'.

[iamvegorott]

I know it's not one of the options, so it may not come around for a long time (if at all) but... can we see that scene with Anti and Mad and the taser? I'm so curious! Like, how did they get into that situation? What awesomeness happens from Anti being tased? What about the others? Does Dark see Mad tase Anti and get the wrong idea? Why are The Twins not there to help? Or is The Deadly Duo there but incapacitated? Why is Mad in danger if he's Marked by Mare? I'm so curious! After that small snippet of conversation, these questions have been camping in my head and Will. Not. Leave.

...Sorry, that came off as more aggressive than curious. Aggressive curiosity?... I'm gonna stop talking now

Thiiisssss became longer than expected XD ---------------------------------------------------

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Mad huffed when he opened his door and saw Anti. 

“I was just strolling along and saw you and figured I’d come see what you were up to,” Anti said with a smile. 

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Mad repeated and closed the door in Anti’s face. 

“I’m not a babysitter,” Anti said after reopening the door and stepping into the house. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that Mare didn’t send you.” Mare saw the hesitation before Anti started speaking.

“Mare didn’t-”

“Bullshit.” Mad went to the kitchen. 

“How terrible it must be to have one of the most powerful Demons care about you?” Anti’s voice was thick with sarcasm as he followed Mad. 

“Don’t you have newborn twins to be with?” Mad started gathering what he had planned on bringing over. On his own. 

“Wilford and JJ are playing with them today,” Anti said. 

“So you’re spending your free time watching me instead of relaxing or being with Dark?” Mad slipped on a backpack but kept one of his new tools in his hand. 

“I’m going to be with Dark later.”

“Why not be with him now?”

“I’m doing Mare a favor.”

“So you are babysitting me for Mare?” Mad said after he and Anti were out of the house, locking the door and double-checking it.

“For fuck’s sake!” Anti groaned as Mad pushed past him. 

“Just go home, Anti.” 

“I’m not going home.” Anti was following Mad once more, arms crossed in an annoyed pout this time. 

“Then go somewhere that isn’t with me.” Mad dismissively waved his free hand. 

“Not doing that either.” Anti easily caught up so he was next to Mad. “What’s that thing?” Anti gestured towards the tool in Mad’s hand, hoping to get him talking. 

“It should give off a strong shock that would be damaging to a Human but mostly unpleasant for a Demon,” Mad said. “You take it and jab it into the Demon’s side and it’ll send a shock that should stun or at least confuse the Demon long enough to be caught.” 

“So, a taser?” Anti asked.

“It’s...oh.” Mad’s shoulder slumped a little. “I didn’t even realize that.” 

“If it’s strong enough to fuck with a Demon, that’s pretty impressive.” 

“Yeah…”

“Shit,” Anti said that softly to himself. Mare would not be happy if he brings an upset Mad to him. “I mean, it’s-”

“Yo!” Anti stiffened after smelling the air, moving so that his body was blocking Mad from a fellow Demon that was walking up to them. “Can you help me find someone?” The Demon was fairly large but had a beaming smile. 

“Who you lookin’ for?” Anti stayed where he was and his shoulders were still tense.

“I’m actually looking for The Twins, Mare to be more specific.” The Demon said.

“Mare?” Mad moved so that the Demon could see him. “Why do you need to find him?”

“He’s my... “ The Demon stopped when he sniffed the air. His face immediately changed to anger. “Why do you have his Mark?” 

“Mad, tase me.” Anti suddenly said.

“What?” 

“Tase me.”

“I-okay.”

“Alright, so it’s a jab...why didn't you question that more?”

“I’ve done weirder to help Mare.”

“Gross.”

“Not like that!” Mad jabbed the ‘taser’ into Anti’s side and pressed the trigger. Mad watched as the electricity sparked off of the tool and went straight into Anti. 

“Oh, shit man!” Anti started giggling as his hair went straight up and his eyes burned an even brighter green. “Hold on tight.” 

“To what?” Mad just finished getting his words out before Anti grabbed him and they were gone in a blink, electrical sparks being the only sign they had been in that spot in the first place. 

Mad hadn’t even exhaled his breath when he found himself at Mare and Phantom’s spot. He didn’t see Anti holding a finger up to Mare and was gone once more, flashes of what looked like lightning started going off in the sky. Mad hunched over and vomited what little food he had in his stomach onto the pavement. He felt, who he assumed was Mare, used one hand to keep him upright and the other to rub his back. 

“You okay?” Mare asked. 

“Was not ready,” Mad said with a spit. “Too fast.” 

“I guess dinner can wait,” Mare said with a little laugh. “You think?” Mare seeing the little smile from Mad helped reassure that he was okay.

“There he is,” Phantom said when Anti was now on Mare’s bench, panting heavily. “The fuck is up?” 

“Malcum...is...looking...for you,” Anti said between gasped, gesturing towards Mare and then pointing where they came from.

“Malcum?” Mare and Phantom shared a look, a long pause happening before they both nodded. Phantom was suddenly where Mare had been and Mare was on Phantom’s balcony, he jumped up and took off in the direction Anti had pointed to.

“Who’s Malcum?” Mad asked, moving Phantom's hands off of him and going into his backpack to pull out a mini toothbrush kit and water bottle, popping the mini-brush into his mouth to get the sour taste out of it. 

“An ex of Mare’s,” Phantom answered with a shrug. “He was cool before and while they were Marked but Mare didn’t like the idea of being Claimed with him and ended it when he realized that.”

“And Malcum lost his shit at that,” Anti added, breathing almost even. “He did a lot of yelling when it happened, not shocking, not concerning, but then he got weird.” 

“He followed me and Mare for nearly a year and after we came this close-” Phantom held up a hand with his thumb and pointer finger almost touching. “-to cutting his dick off with a leaf, he left us alone.”

“Explains why we got pissed when he smelled Mare’s Mark,” Mad said, sitting out the last of the toothpaste with some water. “I’m assuming Mare’s gone to scare him off again.” 

“Not necessarily.” Phantom sang.

“What does that mean?” Mad didn’t get a response from Phantom, instead, Mare jumped down from the roof of the nearby building, landed on the balcony, and then next to Anti, dropping something into his lap. 

“Oh, sick!” Anti laughed, holding up what was Malcum’s head. “Looks like dumbass ran his mouth.” 

“Yeah.” Mare used the back of his hands to wipe some blood off of his cheek. “You still okay?” He asked Mad, going up to him and seeing that Mad was staring at him with wide eyes and a slight tint to his cheeks. Mad grabbed the front of Mare’s shirt and pulled him down to whisper something in his ear that got Mare to grin. 

“And that’s our cue!” Phantom pinched his nose shut and went over to Anti, whose laughter was back and stronger.

“Looks like I’m not the only one getting head.” Anti joked, wigging Malcum’s head. Phantom showed a face of disgust before taking the head for himself. 

“Let’s show Henrik, he’ll get a kick out of it.”

“Yeah!” Anti jumped up and he and Phantom took off, leaving the other two to do what Mad had told Mare. 

[addictofsupernatural]

The Southsider (pt. 14)

Sweet Pea x reader

Chapter Summary: Y/n isn't taking the news about her father all too well.

A/n: The accounts that don't work when I try to tag them will be tagged in the comments.

Warnings: smut (labeled where it starts and ends)

Word Count: 2022

Chapter 1 • Chapter 13

You looked at the phone, tears making your eyes foggy. Sweet Pea ended the call and looked at you. "Babe." He said quietly.

When you looked at him, he was taken aback. You began to breathe heavier and tears were streaming down your face. But that wasn't it. You had the look of pure terror on your face.

"Sweetheart."

"Sweets." You looked at him with the most vulnerable expression. "I'm scared."

"No, babe-"

You began to breathe faster, panicking and shaking your head. "He's gonna come for me! He'll find me! He'll gonna kill me!" You began to shake uncontrollably as you went into a panic attack.

All Sweet Pea could do was grab you and engulf you into his arms, holding you as you cried in fear. He rested his head on top of yours as you just let everything out.

By the time FP and Jughead barged into the trailer, you were calmer in Sweet Pea's arms as you both sat on the couch. Your face was puffy and you wore a broken expression. "Kid." FP said gently as he knelt down to you.

"He's gonna take me." You said in a hoarse voice. "I'm going to die." You didn't look at him. You then looked at Sweet Pea. "And you! We have to break up."

"What?" His grip loosened on you.

You nodded your head quickly. "If he finds out that we're dating he'll come for you." You were beginning to shake again.

"Kid, look at me." You looked at FP with hopeless eyes. "What is the first law?"

You sniffed. "No serpent stands alone."

He brushed some hair out of your face. "What is the fourth law?"

"No serpent is left for dead." You snuggled into Sweet Pea further.

FP gave you a gentle smile. "What is the sixth law?"

You smiled back. "In unity, there is strength."

"In unity, there is strength." Sweet Pea and Jughead echoed.

"Well there you have it." FP said. "He's not gonna hurt you. The Serpents won't let him."

"And you can't get rid of me that easily." Sweet Pea whispered as he kissed below your ear.

The four of you then made a plan. The Serpents were going to stay at your house with you so nothing would happen to you at night. At every shift at Pop's, a few members were to stay there with you. Sweet Pea or Fangs were to be with you at all times.

Although you still felt a heavy fear deep within you, you couldn't help but feel more safe. You finally had a family that you could love without being afraid to lose them. Maybe you could be happy.

The next day you set up a huge pile of blankets and pillows. You bought a ton of groceries and took more shifts at Pop's, despite feeling a little more unsafe there. If people were going to sleep in your living room to make you feel safer, then the least you could do is get food to make for them.

Different Serpents would be there when you were working. Sometimes it was old Serpents, sometimes it was regular Serpents, most of the time it was your friends, but the one who was always there was Sweet Pea. Either way, you always gave whoever was there free dessert.

You really got to know everyone. At night Sweet Pea would sneak into your room, sometimes just to feel your warmth, and sometimes it was for not so innocent purposes. But you'd wake him up earlier than FP so he wouldn't know.

Everybody woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. "Who wants breakfast?" You called out. Everyone cheered.

Jughead was leaning on the counter next to you, munching on bacon as you served people some pancakes. "So," he said as he ate. "When are you gonna tell my dad about Sweet Pea going to your room every night?"

This caught Sweet Pea's ear. "About the same time I tell him about you sneaking off at night to go to Betty's." He glared at you. "At least I'm assuming you go to Betty."

"Fair enough." He passed a paper plate to you, and you put more waffles on it. You gave him a big smile as you gave the plate back to him.

"Nice." Fangs said, sticking out his plate for some pancakes. Sweet Pea pushed his shoulder and gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

"We're going to school dad." Jughead called out.

"Alright." He called back.

"Guys please clean up after yourselves!" You shouted before leaving.

After school you, Jughead, Toni and Fangs would all go to the Carrie rehearsals. Sweet Pea offered to be there as well, but you insisted that you wanted him to see your performance on the day of the play.

You began to grow exhausted, whether it be from the rehearsals or school or work or having to cook for about 30 people almost everyday. It was mainly from worrying about when or where your dad would show up. It showed, and your loyal boyfriend took it upon himself to do something about it.

"Come on." Sweet Pea said, tugging your hand.

"Where are we going?" You said, tired and stressed. "I should probably cook dinner for everybody."

"No, not today. You've been taking care of everybody lately. You deserve a break." He hopped on his bike and handed you your jacket. You slid it on and hopped on, loving his warmth as you held onto him.

You rode to his trailer. You went inside to where you felt most at home, most at peace. You felt his hands snake around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. He began leaving kisses up and down your neck. "You haven't been taking care of yourself. I noticed that you've been skipping meals."

You breathed out a sigh. "I've been busy. I did eat dinner though."

"I know, but I still feel like you should have a treat." He took you to his room, where there was a big tray filled with small pastries. "I went to Greendale earlier and got them at a bakery."

You turned around and kissed him. "Sweets you are so perfect."

"Gotta make sure my girl feels appreciated." He then took you to the bed, where you two sat and ate with each other while talking and joking. Once you were finished with everything, you set the tray on the floor. "Babe, you have a bit of cheesecake on your lip."

- - - smut starts - - -

Before you could do anything, Sweet Pea grabbed your cheek, licking off the cheesecake before kissing you deeply. "Sweets." You breathed out.

He pulled your shirt over your head and unclipped your bra, gently pushing you to lay on your back. He hovered over you, putting wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone. "Let me take care of you. I want to make you feel special."

You nodded and laid your head back. You closed your eyes as you felt him kiss his way down your chest and stomach, opening them once he yanked down your pants as well as your panties. You gasped at the cold breeze onto your core.

"Already so wet for me." He licked up from your core to your folds. "Only I could make you like this." He then kissed your clit, causing a moan to escape you.

"Sweets, please." You whispered.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm nice." He then slowly inserted a finger into you. He waited a moment for you to adjust before slowly moving it in and out. He then picked up the pace, and pretty soon he added a second finger.

"Oh God, Sweets yes." You began to get noisier as the tension built up inside of you.

He left kisses on your clit, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He then began to suck on your clit, causing your thighs to shake. "That's it." He said. "Come for me, princess."

You just let go of the tension you were holding in as your orgasm washed over you. When he made sure you were okay, you sat up. "Come here, babe." You said, reaching out your hands.

You both went in for a deep kiss. You could taste yourself on him, but you didn't care. "That's the first time you called me babe." He smiled against your lips.

"I want you to feel good too." You said as you palmed him through his jeans.

"Tonight was about you though." He said as he moved your hand away, begining to breathe harder.

You straddled him and ground into him. "Then make me feel good again. Please." You buried your face in his neck.

"You're amazing." He breathed out.

- - - smut end - - -

You opened your eyes to you snuggled up against your boyfriend's chest. You were engulfed in warmth and didn't want to get out. You gently got out of the arms that were wrapped around you and checked your phone. 7:47. School starts in 13 minutes.

You quickly got up and looked around for your panties, not being able to find them. You did find your bra, and put it on. Sweet Pea stirred away and smiled at you lazily. "We're gonna be late for school." You said. "You gotta get up. Up up up!" You threw the blankets off of him, then pecked the top of his head. "Where's my underwear?"

He sat up and picked up the ripped material from the ground. "Sorry. Got a little carried away." His smile didn't match his apology. "Wear one of mine."

You huffed, putting a pair of boxer briefs on and tossing on your jeans and one of his shirts. You then got ready at lightning speed, pushing Sweet Pea around with you for him to get ready.

You both got there at 7:58. You ran to your Biology class and sat down right before the bell rang. Toni looked at you, about to make a comment about the mess that you were. "Don't." You said.

After work you opened the door to see Sweet Pea leaning on his bike in the parking lot. He had a grin on his face. "I have a surprise for you."

You went up to him and hugged him. "Another one? Last night's surprise was amazing enough."

He kissed your cheek and pulled out a small box, handing it to you. "Open it." You smiled and pulled off the ribbon, opening it. It was a pocket knife. "I figured you would feel safer with it, and every serpent has a pocket knife on them."

It was a Galaxy color, and when you opened the blade it was also the same color as the handle. It was thicker than most, as well as sharper it seemed. "I figured that when I'm not there to protect you, you'd think of me when you're being a badass."

You giggled and put it in your pocket. "Always so thoughtful, Pea." You deeply kissed him. "I can't help but fall in love with you."

He froze. "What?"

You immediately back away. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You probably weren't ready, and I probably shouldn't be rushing into saying that I love you, and-"

You were cut off by Sweet Pea's lips. His hands were on your hips as he pulled you closer to him. You ran your hand through his hair, your other hand on his shoulder. He suddenly pulled back. "I love you too." He gasped out.

You giggled as you took a look at Sweet Pea. His eyes were wide and his lips were swollen. His hair was in a mess and he had a goofy smile on. You jumped on him and kissed all over his face while he laughed in response.

He pulled back as you paused and pecked him on the lips. "Is my girl happy?" You excitedly nodded. "Is she ready to leave?" You nodded again. "Then let's go."

What you both didn't know was that same night, your father had been released. They asked if he wanted to be taken to you, but he said no. They asked if he wanted your address, but said no. What he asked for was money, only ten dollars. He then went to Riverdale High, and bought a ticket to Carrie: the Musical.

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Author's Note: Sorry I didn't update last week. Writer's block. This was kinda my least favorite chapter so far, but I'll try to be better next chapter.

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