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lizzyk137 · 1 year ago

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Misunderstandings and Realizations- A Spencer Reid Fanfiction (Spencer X Reader)

Summary: You and Spencer started to drift apart after JJ's confession, you can handle it for only so long before leaving him. Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, angst, fluff, brief mentions of sex, brief mention of serial killer, brief mention of seizure, talk of pregnancy, brief moments of being in a hospital Based on Season 14 episode 16 all throughout Season 15

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Something went down.

Not in the bad way, well you guess you could say it was bad because there was a hostage situation with an Unsub, but something certainly happened.

You felt it when he came back home to you that night. Curling himself around you, kissing your neck all over before finally making passionate love to you, like the world would end if he didn't. Usually, you cuddle and fall asleep after you both clean up, but he left you in bed as he went out to the living room, his face masked of any emotion.

His face often did that now when you were around. You had asked the other team member's partners during your weekly get together at the park, but none of them knew what went down that night, not even Will. All he knew was that the Unsub played a game with JJ and Spencer, and JJ didn't tell him anything but that.

You saw the looks at Rossi's wedding, you tried to ignore them. Will seem oblivious to them, but you caught every single one. Spencer didn't ask you to dance either that night, something he loved to do with you since it gave him the excuse to hold you close, look into your eyes and give you kiss after kiss all while you giggled. He loved the feeling of your heart beating in sync with his, he had told you and since then he would randomly dance with you at home and especially when you both went out.

The looks continued throughout the night, the random hush conversations. They didn't stop even when Will got JJ to dance or Alvez came over to ask you to dance. Spencer didn't even seem to care when you said yes, and you spent the rest of the night dancing with Alvez and Pennelope. He just sat alone at the table, his gaze always finding JJ's.

Kristy watched you, her hand on her growing bump, as you ran around the playground with her youngest daughters. "Are you sure he isn't just stressed?" She had asked, her voice almost lost in the mixture of the kid's giggled and screams.

You peaked your head from behind one of the slide's. "He's been going to therapy and taking his medicine regularly. It could be but he's never been like this before."

You slid down the slide, the plastic being a little slicker than you thought causing you to fall off and onto the ground.

A pain in your stomach appeared, causing you to gasp, but you quickly brush it away as Henry and Michael came running up to you with a disheveled Will running to catch up with them. You played with the kids for a while, the pain growing more intense, before you slugged your way over to the bench where Kristy and Will sat.

"You should sit down. The kids are pushing you hard today." Kristy laughed. You sat down next to her, a cry escaping your lips as your body touched the cool bench beneath you. "Are you okay?"

You shook your head as the pain increased, your vision going blurry as you felt Will's hands grab your body before it hit the bench.

Spencer watched as Matt and Kristy laughed at what Luke said, Matt's arms circling his wife's very pregnant belly. He wondered if he would get to do that one day, but he shook the thought from his mind before going back to his conversation with Tara.

"How's Y/N, doing? She's been quiet the past couple of meet ups."

Spencer nodded his head before lying, "She's been okay, work has her stressed out. She spends most days reading or with the kids." He knew it wasn't the truth but every member of his team that has asked how you've been, he just gave the same reply. Because in all honesty, he didn't know the truth. One day you were just quiet.

He saw the cracks in your usual smiley self. You were a ray of sunshine, always what was needed to brighten up his usual gloomy self. He knew things have been different, he didn't want to admit it. His brain always confused on what he wanted and possibly who he wanted, though he would never tell you that. He always made himself busy, usually taking on more cases from police departments that needed help or booking more classes to teach. The only intimacy you both had was when he came home after cases. He would kiss you like your lips was the air he needed and then made love to you for hours before watching you drift off to sleep before moving to the couch which had become his bed every night because it wasn't right of him to lay next to you while he had been tossing around the idea of a life with another women.

Spencer knew you were lonely, but you stayed, he was thankful for that, he didn't know what he would do without you in his life. But he couldn't shake what was going through his head.

Somewhere in the midst of overthinking, his feet brought him to Kristy. She stood there glowing as she smiled, her hand still rubbing on her belly. "Come to say congratulations again, Dr. Reid?" Her eyes playful as she teased him.

"Um, do you know where Y/N is?" He asked. He hadn't been able to find you for the past hour, which shouldn't have been hard since the house only had so many hiding places.

"She didn't tell you, did she? She had an appointment this afternoon, but she should be here soon." Spencer nodded, trying to remember if you had told him, which you didn't because his brain wouldn't allow him to forget things. "This must be super hard on her though, so make sure you show her some extra love."

Spencer looked at her puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You know, with the miscarriage. It has to be hard on her to go to this type of celebration." Spencer's puzzled expression only grew as she spoke, so she decided to continue on. "Did she not tell you? She told us she was going to tell you."

"Everyone knew?" His voice barely a whisper.

"No, no. Just Will, Penelope, Luke along with Matt and me. It happened about eight months ago. She fell down playing with the kids and passed out. Will brought her to the hospital, they said it was because she was so stressed."

"Because of work?" Spencer voice was squeaky as worry clouded his face even more.

Kristy's voice was soft but also annoyed. "No, because of what has been going on with you and JJ. She hasn't been herself since then."

You finally made it to the party, your nerves getting to you. Your doctor had confirmed the baby was fine and growing healthy. But you were worried, so worried. What if this ended up like before? Your worrying hadn't died down and Spencer hadn't down anything to change that.

Opening up the front door, you made your way into the house, the house filled with laughter and noise. Your eyes scanned for Spencer, but you couldn't find him. You eventually found Kristy; a smile plastered your face as you hugged her tight. She was one of the few people who could make you naturally smile.

"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that you hadn't told Spencer, and I may have told him what happened." Her words fast and covered in worry.

"It's okay," you told her, your hands rubbing her arms. "I just haven't had the heart to do it."

"I didn't tell him what was going on now though." Kristy eyed your too big sweatshirt that had covered your bump before squealing. "How did it go?"

You laughed at her enthusiasm. "It went well, the doctor reassured me that everything was okay. They're healthy and happy. And no, I did not find out the sex either, so don't ask." Her face turned into a pout, and you couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. "Where is Spencer? I think we should definitely talk."

You made your way over to the back patio that Kristy said she had last seen him. You were going to come clean with everything that has happened the last eight months, but your determination faltered when you saw Spencer hugging JJ close to him, her hand rubbing circles on his back.

Diana was calling you. Which was strange since she hasn't called you in months. You answered and made your way to a quiet place in the house. You were happy she remembered you, the conversation flowing nicely before she told you about Spencer's visit. What he said and how he felt. She was worried about him, and as his childhood best friend she wanted to let you know what was said and what she had replied with.

You ended the call with the promise to call her back tomorrow. You sank down to the floor, your growing belly blocking you from curling up the way you wanted too.

What had you been expecting? Spencer finally coming clean to his mom that you were together. You doubted he would now that you had moved out without a word a month ago with no communication since. And Diana had proven you right. He made no mention of your relationship.

You took a deep breath and got up. Fixing your hair, you walked out of Matt's office and made your way to Kristy to tell her that you had finally made up your mind.

Months had gone by with silence.

No word from him.

No word from you.

You only heard what was going on via the team when they checked up on you. You told them that they didn't have to do that, but Emily said you were a part of the family, you had been for years, and not even Spencer's shitty attitude would change that.

Alvez had taken you in after you told Kristy that you were moving on from Spencer and going forth into motherhood alone. Alvez was someone you trusted, and your friendship grew these past few months. He watched out for you, and you watched out for any girl that you could set him up with. He said it was a win-win situation for him.

You didn't see each other anymore than friends, brother and sister if you really thought about it. But you were grateful for that. You needed it and Alvez enjoyed your company and having someone to watch Roxy while he was on cases. He helped you every time you cried about Spencer especially when you went to your baby appointments and your hormones would make it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that you were doing this alone. Spencer had already moved on, and you were having his baby alone.

But this perfect set up wouldn't last. The baby was coming soon, and you had to find a place that you could have a proper nursery or at least more space than Alvez's tiny apartment. Plus, the chance that Luke would wind up in a relationship was high, any girl would fall in love with his great personality, and you didn't want to ruin what he could have.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, setting up the baby's car seat. "We would all feel better with having you here with the Chameleon running around still."

"I think it would be better to move out, I don't want to get in the way."

Alvez chuckled then sighed. "Y/N, you're not in the way. I know you felt that way for a bit, but you aren't. The team want you safe. So, stay here until we've caught the guy, alright?"

"Alright, but after that I'm moving out."

Weeks have gone by, the team on the lookout for the serial killer that had haunted Rossi. During that time, you had given birth to an adorable baby boy, the spitting image of Spencer. He was perfect and the sweetest baby, sleeping through the night, all the cuddles he gave you. He was just perfect.

Your phone rang, and you quickly got up to grab it before it awoke your sleeping son. "Hello?" You whispered.

"Oh, Y/N, Spencer..." You heard Penelope crying. "He.. he was shaking so badly... Oh my god, Spencer..."

"Penelope, slow down. Take a deep breath. Tell me what's going on."

Her words were rushed and mumbled, but from what you gathered, you were already packing your baby's stuff up and heading to the car before you got off the phone with her.

You rushed into the waiting room to find Penelope and he his mom sitting together. "Oh, Y/N." Diana got up and crushed you into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here."

"How is he?"

Penelope grabbed the baby bag from you. "He's awake now, they ran tests and he'll be okay. They're cleaning him up right now so we stepped out but should be able to see him soon."

You nodded and sat down. It wasn't long before they called you in, you lingered in the back. You hadn't spoken to Spencer for months and you didn't know how he would feel seeing you, especially with the state he was in currently. Plus, you didn't want to make his new girlfriend uncomfortable.

You watched him hug his mom and Penelope, a smile on his face, you could tell he was trying to calm both women's nerves. He chatted with them for a bit until his eyes landed on you in the doorway. He gave you a small smile, his eyes traveling down to the baby carrier in your hands.

His 100-watt smile returned as he looked to his mom and Penelope. "Do you mind if I have a minute with Y/N?" They both nodded and headed out. You lingered in the back of the room, Spencer just watching you.

"How are you feeling?" The silence was deafening, and you wanted to fill the space with something.

"I'll be okay. Is that-?" He nodded towards the carrier. You nodded to his question.

"Did you want to meet him?" You stepped closer when he gave you a small nod. You unhooked the still sleeping baby from his car seat and brought him over to meet Spencer. Spencer reached his arms out and your heart tightened a bit at the sight of your baby being held by his father for the first time. You gently laid your son in his arms, his face brightening with a big smile.

You sat there for a few minutes watching him make faces at your baby, cooing occasionally. You didn't even realize you had started crying until Spencer called your name, worry on his face.

"I'm sorry..." You quickly wiped the tears away.

"It's okay. Thank you for letting me meet him. What's his name?"

"Oh, um, he doesn't have one yet. Every time I think something may sound right; it just doesn't fit." You reached over to fix the blanket that was near your son's face. "The deadline is coming up, so I'll have to settle on something."

Spencer nodded; his one hand came up to stroke his son's face. "You'll find the right name, I know you will, Y/N."

Something in the way he said your name, made you break down. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing or how weak your legs felt. Spencer moved the baby and grabbed your hand, pulling you down to sit on the bed and held you close to him as you sobbed.

Your baby's cough stopped your sobs instantly and you whipped around to look at you sleeping sons face. You rubbed your hand over your face. "Have you been doing this alone?"

You nodded in reply. "I don't want to bother Alvez. He barely comes home with the Chameleon on the loose."

His hand found your face and cupped it gently, your tears still flowing. "I'm sorry I haven't been there. You've done it all alone. I should've been there."

You shook your head quickly. "It was me. I decided this. I didn't tell you." A sob escaped your lips. "It was just so hard without you there." Spencer opened his arm wide, inviting you to cuddle in and you did. You sat like that for a long time, Spencer's arm rubbing circles on your back as you held your arm over his other arm that was holding your son, your head on his chest.

You lifted your head up and looked at Spencer, his eyes on locking onto yours. The draw was powerful and neither of you realized what was happening until your lips touched. After that, you couldn't keep your lips off of him. Both of you pressing your bodies as close as you physically could with a baby in your arms, the need for each other growing with every second. You pulled away for air, guilt instantly hitting you.

"Spence... we shouldn't do this..." You mumbled between Spencer's kisses.

"Why?"

"Because... You have a girlfriend..." The assault on your lips continuing and you were trying not to enjoy it.

Spencer pulled away; his eyes still locked onto yours. "I don't have a girlfriend. I mean I did but I don't anymore. It- it was a fling to try to get over you, but I just couldn't, especially when I found out about our baby. I just want you, Y/N."

"But JJ...?"

"I was confused over what she said, that was wrong of me, but I knew I always needed you with me. I may be smart but I'm dumb when it comes to my feelings. When I found out you lost our baby, I lost it at the shower and JJ encouraged me to talk to you but when I came home you were gone." His eyes started to water, and he pulled you and your baby closer to him. "I've been a mess, barely sleeping, barely eating. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, I know what I've done is not excusable and you have every right to not want me in your life, but I need you."

"Y/N!" Spencer whisper yelled at you to get your attention. You looked up at him to find him pointing at the sleepy baby he was holding. You walked over, a smile on your face to see your baby sleeping with his tongue slightly sticking out through his smile.

You giggled, wondering how you got so lucky to have such an adorable baby. "Are you almost ready to go?"

Spencer nodded, before reluctantly putting his sleeping son in his car seat. "Do we have to leave him?"

You giggled again at the silly pout on his face. "As much as I want to stay with him, I think we both need to mentally get out of this house." He nodded as he picked up his son's car seat and diaper bag before making his way out of the house with you locking up behind him.

After dropping your son off at your mother's, Spencer and you made your way to Penelope's sendoff party. Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles against your skin. He knew how anxious you were to be away from your child, hell he was just as anxious, but he knew you needed to see your friend off or you wouldn't forgive yourself.

He felt you relax after a minute, and he gave you a smile when you looked over at him. You sighed and continued to look at Spencer, taking in his features and how attractive it was watching him drive with one hand on your thigh.

The first few weeks after your reunion with Spencer was awkward. You didn't know how to react to everything going around you. The case was wrapped up, Penelope announced she was leaving, and Spencer wanting to get back together. Spencer and you took it slow, not wanting to rush into things, just learning what you both had miss, you decided on being friends and he had suggested in both of you getting a place together so it was easier to raise your son and Alvez could have his place back.

You declined at first but after some thought and Spencer showing you pictures of a few houses on the market, you caved in after seeing a two-story house with its wrap around porch and lilac bushes covering the front yard. All you could picture was your son running around the house playing as you sat on the porch in the early mornings, a book in hand. Since then, the next month and a half was getting the house turned into your home.

The friendship thing worked at first, but somehow you would end up staying up waiting on Spencer to come home from cases, him carrying you to bed when your body couldn't keep yourself awake. The early mornings where you cradled your son as you sat on the couch, Spencer's arms wrapped around you from behind, his face next to yours as he cooed at your little one. The random make out sessions in the kitchen when the tension became too strong.

And one night he gave you such a scare.

You sat waiting up for him, he had sent you a text that he was on his way home, but he wasn't answering your calls, and you feared the worse when he wasn't home hours later. When you heard the front door open, you stomped your way from the kitchen to see his smiling face, arms full of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. His smile faltered when he saw how angry you were, tears streaming down your face.

You yelled at him, careful not to walk the sleeping child upstairs, but enough for him to realize how angry you were with him. You angrily put away the groceries, telling him that he should've brought a charger to plug in his dead phone, or let her know that he was going to the store instead of saying he would be right home. He didn't understand why you were so upset with him, his brain too tired to figure it out until you blurted out that you loved him. He looked at you with an apologetic smile before pulling you into his arms, apologizing for worrying you.

Sighing in his arms, you looked up at him, the joke you were about to say escaping your mind when you saw the hunger in his eyes. He took your face in his hands and brought his lips to yours. The kiss was full of passion and love and when you pulled away for air, he told you he loved you. After that, the night was filled with passionate kisses and love making.

You smiled thinking back on the memory. Spencer still took things slow with you; he told you he didn't want to mess up his second chance. He slipped his hand on the small of your back as you made your way into Rossi's backyard.

All night Spencer seemed nervous, but you played it off on his dislike for change and Penelope leaving was a big change for him. You squeezed his hand that was on his chest as you slow danced to the music that was wafting around you. You nuzzled your head in his chest as you swayed even when the music stopped playing.

"Y/N." You looked up at Spencer's face, his dark eyes on yours. He kissed the back of your intwined hand and pulled away from you. He reached into his pocket and kneeled down as he pulled out a box. He opened the box to reveal a tear shaped diamond ring, your right hand covering the gasp that came from your lips.

"I know I said I would take it slow, but I can't imagine my life without you. I want to wake up beside you every morning, go to bed with you in my arms, play with our son in the backyard and watch him grow up and continue growing our family." A few stray tears fell down both of your cheeks, a smile stretching across your face at the mention of expanding your family. "I want you and your love, the gentle smiles you give, your contagious laugh. I don't ever want to let those go. You are my home, you are the only one I think of all day, the one who can calm me down with just one look, word or touch. I need you in order to be me. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you please be my wife?"

"Yes!"

#criminal minds bau #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenarios #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid #criminal minds penelope #jj criminal minds #luke alvez #rossi #david rossi #matt simmons #emily prentiss

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year ago

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CM Friends-with-Benefits Challenge

The following are prompts including friends with benefits/situationships!

This event is over (Masterlist here!), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

🥰 Song Prompts 🥰

"Sex" by The 1975

"Too Sweet" by Hozier

"dress" by Taylor Swift

"august" by Taylor Swift

"Casual" by Chappell Roan

"Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier

"Close to You" by Gracie Abrams

“Stuck in the Middle” by Tai Verdes

"Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan

"I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys

“Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by Arctic Monkeys

💌 Dialogue Prompts 💌

“I’m just in it for the snacks.”

“No wonder you’re single…” (joking?)

“So... what’s the stance on cuddling?”

"You deserve something real. I want us to be real.”

“We’re just friends with benefits.” // “Right, and the benefit is being madly in love.” (sarcasm?)

“We’re… friends. With benefits.” // “Without sex? What’s the benefit?” // “My delightful company, asshole.”

"I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." // "Do you want the benefits?" // "Yes—No... I'm your fluffer!" ('New Girl')

“What is up with those two lately?” // “They’re sleeping together.” // “Yeah, right. Imagine… wait, seriously?”

General & NSFW Prompts Below!

🌹 General Prompts 🌹

Someone figures out the situation. A and B try to figure out how.

A is blindsided by jealousy when someone shows an interest in B.

A and B try to be normal so no one knows. Literally everyone knows.

A is so worried about B falling for them that A fails to realize A already fell for B.

A realizes they are happier with B than any actual significant other they’ve had.

A is totally B’s type, which has never worked out before. As a result, A keeps sabotaging things.

A agrees to a situationship with B because they think it's the only way they'll be able to have them.

A reaches out to B for a hookup but gets rejected, and they each struggle with their disappointment.

A is treating the arrangement like a formal business deal. B gets tired of it and shuts them up with a kiss.

A and B used to be friends with benefits. When they meet again later, the arrangement is still appealing.

A has to leave town for a long time. They have one last night with B but don’t tell them. They’re gone in the morning and leave B wondering what they wanted to say the night before.

Anything else you can think of!

💋 NSFW Prompts 💋

A completely defies B’s expectations of what they’re like in bed.

A and B decide to hook up one last time (or maybe not the last...)

A agreed to take B’s virginity as long as B didn’t catch feelings. It seems like B didn’t. A did, though.

A and B's no-judgment rule means they're finally comfortable to ask for what they've always wanted to try in bed.

A is annoyed with B, so they start loudly complaining/joking about their situationship. Angry/playful sex ensues.

A and B have never felt truly satisfied in bed until there were no strings attached... it definitely wasn't because of finding the right partner.

Happy Writing!

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ryrywrites · 1 year ago

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Criminal Minds P Links

(divider creds: @cafekitsune)

minors, do not interact. the links below contain porn and graphic nudity. you are responsible for your own media consumption, understanding that the links below contain porn and should not be opened in public. I will block minors who interact.

A/N: The people have spoken! Criminal Minds P links has won the vote, Bridgerton came in a very close second. I was surprised that Criminal Minds won, this was so much fun to make. Spencer's links were so fucking hard to find. BTW happy early 4th of July, for those of you who celebrate! (🎵 I'm proud to be an American 🦅🇺🇸🎵) AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR 100 FOLLOWERS? WHAT THE FUCKKK???? Thank you, hotties! I'm gonna put up a new poll very soon, I'll keep you posted. Anyways, thank you, I luv you, gimme a kiss. Okay, Enjoy!

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒅

❃ He loves being able to fuck your throat

❃ Spence can be such a tease

❃ First time together, you take control

❃ post-prison Reid gets aggressive when you try to take control (tw: slapping)

𝑨𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒏𝒆𝒓

❃ Rough ass pounding while watching TV after a long case

❃ He's a literal giant

❃ Hotch will punish you if he finds out you took care of yourself while he was away

❃ you're just a toy for him to use

𝑫𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒌 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏

❃ He had you shaking all night

❃ you're folded like a lawn chair while he pounds you

❃ you're so tight but you take him so well

❃ he loves it when you wear lingerie for him

𝑳𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝑨𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒛

❃ Luke loves controlling missionary

❃ He's such a giver

❃ You get a call about a case but that doesn't stop Luke

❃ He thinks it's so sexy, watching you fuck yourself on his cock

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔

❃ He'll pull your hair so hard, you'll get a migraine

❃ A shower after a long day at work gets a happy ending

❃ His stamina never runs out

❃ you're oiled up and bouncing on his cock

𝑬𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒔

❃ fucking in the office once everyone's gone home

❃ Emily loves when you pull her hair while she licks your clit

❃ She allows you to record but only this once

❃ Your first time together was so intimate and loving

𝑷𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒂

❃ You and Pen having rough sex all night

❃ You two thrive off of each other's pleasure

❃ Penelope got a tongue piercing just for this

❃ This time, Penelope wants to see how you like the strap

𝑱𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝑱𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒖

❃ JJ loves to see you like this

❃ JJ loves being on top

❃ perfect three-way between you, JJ, and Will

❃ JJ with a strap goes crazy

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mirapril · 4 months ago

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ummm guys???

WHERE’S THE NOLAN GRAYSON X F!READER FICS???

#invincible #x reader #x fem!reader #nolan grayson #jk simmons #need that #nolan grayson x reader #invincible x reader #omni man #omni man x reader

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dalamjisung · 1 year ago

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CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST

a muted shade of green ✧ a spencer reid series

✧ prologue

✧ chapter 1: cat adams

✧ chapter 2: he's not yours to keep

✧ chapter 3: X marks the spot

✧ chapter 4: pushing the limits

✧ chapter 5: his very own lighthouse

✧ chapter 6: silver linings

✧ chapter 7: the end of beginnings

✧ chapter 8: it's a natural progression

✧ chapter 9: his angel girl*

✧ chapter 10: in the works

...

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jason gideon #derek morgan #luke alvez #matt simmons #tara lewis #david rossi #elle greenaway #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom

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lefteagleblizzard · 5 months ago

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𝔄 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡

Grant Ward x male reader

Summary: a request that I received from a person on tumblr: ”Hey! Could I request a smut fic with Grant Ward after his Hydra reveal? Maybe something intense, with a lot of tension between him and the male reader? Would love to see how things escalate from there. Thanks! You are the best and it’s okay if you won’t do this <3”

Tags: No use of Y/N. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fight scene. Some descriptions of blood and minor injuries. Possessiveness. Jealousy. Smut. Dom Grant. Heavy make out sessions. Bottom reader. Anal sex.

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Words count: 4000

The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder, the echo of distant gunfire swallowed by the deafening roar of blood pounding through your ears. Coulson's team was locked in battle with Hydra operatives, but none of that mattered. Not when Grant Ward stood before you, the man who, with a single reveal, shattered the illusion everyone had of him.

Your fists met his with bone-rattling force, each strike carrying enough force to break him if it landed clean. But Ward wasn't just any opponent. He was trained in the same deadly efficiency that you were, maybe even more so. And he knew your movements, your tactics, the rhythm of your attacks like a song he had memorized.

So when your punch came for his jaw, he dodged just in time, twisting away as if he had seen it coming before you had even thrown it.

But you had expected that. Using the momentum, you pivoted sharply, aiming a brutal kick toward his ribs. He caught it. His fingers clamped down around your ankle with bruising force, using your own power to twist you mid-air, body snapping sideways, feet skidding against the concrete.

And he was already on you. Ward's grip shot out like a viper, his fingers closing around your wrist in a bruising hold. You yanked free just in time to dodge his counter, twisting away as his first cut through the air, narrowly missing your ribs. But he was faster than most gave him credit for. The second your footing faltered, he capitalized, arm hooking around your back before slamming you into the cold concrete floor with brutal precision.

The impact drove the breath from your lungs, pain detonating across your spine. His knee pinned your chest, arm drawn back for a strike that could break bone. You caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting sharply, using his own weight against him. The two of you tumbled apart, scrambling to your feet at the same time, bodies coiled like predators waiting to strike.

His expression was unreadable at first, dark eyes shadowed beneath the flickering emergency lights. Then, something shifted. A slow, deliberate tilt of his head, a calculating glint in his gaze. His lips parted just enough to release a slow breath, the faintest ghost of a smirk curling at the edges.

Your fist shot out, a feint with your left before you drove a brutal kick into his side. He grunted, staggering for the briefest moment. Satisfaction barely had time to register before his hand clamped around your leg and possibly ready to snap it.

Your fist connected with his jaw in a savage arc. The sound cracked through the air like a gunshot, sending his head snapping to the side and your leg was free from his tight grip.

Slow and deliberate, he turned his head back toward you. The movement was predatory, spine-chilling in its calculated grace. His dark eyes locked onto you with an unsettling intensity, heavy with something dark and undeniably dangerous.

His lips parted enough to let out a slow, shallow breath, the barest ghost of a smirk playing at the edges, if it could even be called that. A wrathful stare, something far more chilling that sat in the pit of your stomach like a coiled snake.

A fresh trail of crimson trickled from the corner of his mouth, thick and glistening under the dim emergency lights. It dripped in slow, lazy streams, curling against the edge of his lips before spilling down his chin in a slick, broken line. He barely seemed to notice, his jaw flexed ever so slightly, the muscle ticking beneath bruised skin and his tongue darted out to catch the coppery taste before retreating, tasting it as if confirming its presence.

A bruise was already blooming along the side of his jaw, the pain only seemed to sharpen him. He didn’t wipe the blood away. He let it linger and stain his skin, a silent testament to the weight of everything between you, eyes flickering with something dark and possessive.

Before you could react, Ward moved too fast yet again. His hand shot out, shoving you back with a brutal force that sent you stumbling.

His fingers curled around your throat the second you landed, your pulse roaring against the vise of his fingers. He slammed you against the concrete with a force that rattled your skull, his weight pressing down completely, unyielding while cutting off just enough air to leave you gasping. Your hand's clawed at his arms, nails raking against his skin in a feigned struggle, your body twisting beneath him.

But his grip only tightened, fingers digging into your skin with force, breathing rough and uneven. His expression was nothing short of fury, but beneath the sharp edge of his rage, there was something dangerously close to hunger. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted just enough for his breath to fan against your skin, warm and unsteady. Even as he loomed over you like a predator savoring his prey, he didn’t move to end it. No, he held you there, drawing it out, relishing the way you squirmed beneath him.

May intervened in time. Her boot connected with his ribs in a devastating blow, sending him rolling off of you with a grunt. The moment his grip tore away, you sucked in a ragged breath, the sting of forming bruises already settling deep.

Ward barely had time to recover before SHIELD agents were on him, forcing him down, pinning his arms back. Blood smeared his face, his chest rising and falling with every breath, but his gaze never left you. Even as they dragged him away, even as May hauled you to your feet, his eyes stayed locked on yours.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Hours passed after that event, the guard was now lowered and the base was silent now extremely late at night.

The reinforced steel of the walls, security cameras carefully hidden, countless layers of encrypted surveillance. S.H.I.E.L.D. had built its prisons well. You had slipped through them like a shadow.

Your footsteps were soundless against the cold floor as you moved through the dimly lit corridors, each step deliberate, controlled. The weight of everything still lingered in your muscles, the bruises from the fight throbbing in the background like a dull ache.

It was easy to ignore since you weren't here for remorse.

The reinforced door looming in front of you, its small observation window casting a faint rectangle of light into the otherwise darkened space beyond.

Inside, he was waiting sitting on the simple cot of his cell, the dim, almost sterile lighting casting deep shadows across the padded walls behind him. His posture is deceptively relaxed, hands loosely clasped together, forearms resting on his thighs.

He’s clad in a plain gray prison jumpsuit, the fabric slightly loose but doing nothing to hide the definition of his arms. His biceps are prominent, the muscle taut beneath his skin and the short sleeves leave his strong forearms exposed. The muted color of the clothing adds to the bleakness of his surroundings, but it does little to dull the quiet intensity he carries.

His face is rugged, the slight scruff along his jawline making him look both worn and dangerous, as if the hours of isolation have only sharpened him rather than subdued him. His dark eyes, shadowed from the overhead lighting, flicker with something unreadable. There’s a weight to his gaze, a quiet assessment as he looks up, unreadable and yet knowing all at once. His brows are slightly furrowed, adding to the exhaustion and quiet menace in his expression.

Even trapped, he does not look broken. If anything, he looks like he’s waiting.

Watching everything.

The corner of his mouth curled, not quite a smirk, not quite anything. Just the barest ghost of something that flickered and disappeared just as quickly. He simply sat there, head tilted ever so slightly as he took you in. The bruises you'd given each other, the cut on his lip, the faint discoloration around his jaw where your fist had landed.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. running out of interrogators already? Must be getting desperate." He muttered, tilting his head slightly, voice dripping with mockery.

His words were designed to get under your skin. He thrived on pressure. He pushed and prodded, searching for weakness, for tells. He knew how to read people better than anyone, how to twist their expectations until they didn't even realize they were playing right into his hands.

"Or maybe, this is just personal for you." he mused.

You kept your expression impassive. Cold. Unreadable.

He was digging. Pushing past the surface, past the professional veneer, testing just how much of this was real and how much was performance.

And God, was he enjoying it.

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, eyes burning into yours now.

"Come on," he said, his voice a little quieter, a little lower. “I know you. I know exactly how you operate. And let me guess—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "You still think there's something left to save here, don't you?"

You clenched your jaw.

"You think that you're different from the others, don’t you?" His smirk deepened, and God, he was enjoying this too much for your liking.

You tilted your head slightly, letting a slow exhale slip past your lips. Keeping your stance controlled.

"You talk too much, Ward."

He laughed. Soft and quiet. A huff of breath through his nose as he leaned back against the wall.

"So what is it this time?" he mused. "Are you here to convince me of something? That I made the wrong choice? That I can still be redeemed?"

His eyes flickered down your body before snapping back up to meet yours.

"Or is it something else?"

Your pulse jumped. He had seen and felt something.

And it was infuriating how easily he could read your mind.

You tapped the security panel beside the door, fingers moving with precision. A soft, barely audible click followed as the locks disengaged.

The door swung open and the shift in the air was palpable.

You stepped inside, slow, deliberate, closing it behind you with a quiet finality.

Ward didn't move.

Didn't have to. Like a predator waiting to see if the threat in front of him was real.

You took another step closer.

"You really think I don't know their security systems by now?" Your voice was quiet, edged with something unreadable. "Cameras are looping."

The mask cracks. Your pulse thrums in your ears and not from fear but because of something far more intoxicating.

For the first time in hours, you breathe without restraint. The weight of the act slips from your shoulders, shedding like dead skin, revealing something raw and unfiltered beneath. The role they forced you to play as the loyal agent is gone, discarded like a useless disguise.

And it feels good.

To stand here, unfettered and look at him and see the way he knows. Everything that you did this far was a performance meant for an audience too blind to question it.

His expression barely flickered, but you saw it. A fraction of a second where his breathing shifted and his pulse jumped at his throat.

He was smart enough to know what that meant.

"Skye taught me that trick," you added. "Months ago."

Understanding dawned in his eyes before smiling. A slow, knowing smile that you knew too well, the barest twitch of his lips.

Satisfaction.

The second the door clicks shut behind you, he moves.

No hesitation or warning, just the sheer force of him crashing into you, hands finding your waist and fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he slams you against the cold metal wall. The impact sends a sharp jolt up your spine, but the way he devours you in the next breath makes it a distant sensation, swallowed whole by something far more consuming.

His mouth claims yours with a brutal kind of hunger, nothing like the deception you played at before when you used to in front of everyone else of the team. There’s no performance here, no restraint. Just teeth and heat and the unfiltered aftermath of hours spent locked away, forced to endure interrogation after interrogation, his body coiled with frustration and mind forced into stillness when all he wanted was this.

His hands roam and he finds those bruises he left on you earlier, the ones he painted onto your skin in the midst of your choreographed battle. His fingers press down, slow and deliberate, grip tightening when you react, satisfaction evident in the sharp edge of his breath. He’s reinforcing every mark, to remind you who they belong to.

His teeth graze your lips, sharp and demanding, then lower, tracing the sharp cut of your jaw, biting hard enough to leave his mark, tongue and teeth working over the same spots his fingers had claimed minutes before, like an apology he has no intention of meaning.

“You have no idea how hard it was to hold back.” His fingers tighten around your hips, keeping you pinned against him with no room to escape, not that you would. Body presses flush to yours, radiating heat, the thin barrier of clothing between you both a laughable pretense.

“Watching you like that,” he continues, voice dark and ragged, the weight of his restraint barely hanging by a thread. “Fuck. I wanted to fuck you right there. Throw you down and pay you back for every little thing you did to me, make you feel just how much you were pushing me.’

His hands skim lower, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of your waist before digging in. “You wanted it just as bad, didn’t you?” He growls against your lips, voice wrecked and tinted with something close to obsession. “I could barely hold back.”

You let out a breathless laugh, tilting your head back against the bars, baring your throat to him in blatant invitation.

“Who said you have to?��

A deep, guttural sound rumbles in his chest at that and then he’s on you, his mouth dragging over your jaw, your throat, his hands gripping your ass again, hard, pulling you flush against him.

The fabric gives way under his grip, not carefully, not with any patience. Ripped, torn, peeled from your body like an obstacle he refuses to tolerate. The cold air of the cell rushes against your exposed skin for only a second before he’s on you again, all heat and force, shoving you back against the cold iron bars, gripping your ass with no restraint, fingertips digging into muscle with a force that leaves no room for hesitation, no space for escape.

The groan he lets out against your throat is deep, wrecked. His mouth finds your neck again, lips brushing over the bruises he left earlier, the ones that were meant to look like battle wounds but were anything but.

“You better not screw any of this up,” he mutters, breath warm against your lips. “Everything’s riding on you now.”

Your lips curl into something just shy of a smirk, amusement bleeding through the haze of heat clouding your thoughts. Even now like this, he can’t not remind you of the stakes. He’s always been composed, methodical, always one step ahead. Except here, in this cell, in this moment, you can feel the cracks in his control, the ragged edge of his breathing as his lips drag over your jaw, down the column of your throat, pressing against the marks that only he gets to put on you.

“Relax, Ward,” you murmur, your voice low, velvety, teasing. “The team hasn’t so much as looked me in the eye since you got exposed. They think I’m mourning you. Poor, broken, betrayed agent, left to pick up the pieces.”

Your voice drips with mockery, the idea of it so laughable it nearly makes you chuckle. And, honestly? You’re impressed. They bought it so easily, swallowing the lie whole without question.

You exhale, tilting your head slightly as you let your fingers graze down his forearm, deliberate and slow. Testing and pushing.

“Maybe I should get closer to one of them,” you murmur, your voice casual, but you make sure to watch him closely, searching for the telltale signs. The shift in his stance, the tension in his jaw. “Sleeping with one of them worked well enough for you, after all.”

You see how his eyes flicker, something simmering beneath that carefully controlled exterior. It’s not immediate nor obvious. Grant Ward is too well-trained, too deeply embedded in his own control to make it obvious.

It was impossible to see it coming. His grip tightens suddenly, fingers curling around your bicep, yanking you forward before getting turned around and slammed chest-first into the bars again. The impact knocks the breath from your lungs, a sharp hiss slipping past your teeth. Pain flashes through every nerve of your body but it warps instantly into something hot that coils low in your gut and burns.

Thick and hard, his cock strains against the denim of his gray pants, pressing firm and unrelenting against your bare, already red ass. The heat of him is overwhelming, even through the fabric, the solid weight of him sending a fresh pulse of arousal straight through you. A shudder wracks through your body, involuntary, traitorous, the shame of it mixing with the unbearable need clawing at your insides.

Your breath is ragged, your fingers curling around the bars, gripping tight as you will yourself to stay still, to not push back, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much this is already getting to you.

But he knows.

A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest, deep and unrestrained, reverberating straight into your spine. The vibration sends heat rushing through your veins, leaving you momentarily breathless.

And then he leans in.

His sturdy chest presses tight against your back, his breath ghosts over your ear, slow and deliberate, before he finally speaks.

“You think I give a fuck what you do next?”

His voice is low, husky, like gravel and smoke. His fingers slip lower, dragging down your side, slow, teasing, before gripping your hips tight.

“You think I care?” He’s toying with you. Daring you to believe him.

Your lips curl into a smirk, despite the way your pulse is hammering or how your own dick is aching, straining, desperate for more.

“No?” you murmur, voice just the slightest bit breathless, teasing enough to push at the cracks in his control.

His grip yanks you back, pulling you flush against him.

“No.” His voice is a growl now, his breath hot against the back of your neck. His cock pressing even harder against your ass, making sure you feel him.

“So go ahead.” His tone is mocking now, cruel in the way that makes your blood run hotter, your thighs clench harder. “Go and fuck whoever you prefer.”

His teeth sink hard into your throat, making you gasp, your grip on the bars tightening.

“But don’t forget that you’re still mine.”

His hips roll again, rougher this time, dragging a desperate sound from your lips that you barely manage to muffle.

Ward's fingers dig in like iron, driving the breath from your lungs as he pushes into you harder into the cold metal bars as his thick cock stretches you wide, claiming you all over again with every brutal thrust.

You bite back a moan, too loud and desperate, but he hears it anyway. His hips snap forward in a sharp, punishing thrust, dragging a ragged gasp from you, a broken, helpless sound that betrays just how much you want this.

Ward fucking thrives on that sound. On the way you shudder beneath him, helpless to the overwhelming heat coiling in your gut, to the brutal and relentless rhythm he's set.

Fuck. He was so big, the thick girth of him splitting you open, making you feel every inch of him as your walls clung to him, squeezing down, swallowing him deeper, taking him all.

Every thrust is a a punishment, a brand seared into your very bones. Ward takes you like he's got something to prove, something to remind you.

His cock drives into you without mercy, thick and unrelenting, stretching you open with every forceful stroke, hitting that devastating spot inside you over and over until the pleasure is unbearable, until your body is caught in the violent push and pull of pain and ecstasy.

He doesn't let up nor slow down. Not when you whimper, nor when you shudder or even when your knees threaten to give out.

Instead, he laughs, breathless and dark against your ear, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise while the other snakes up your chest, fingers wrapping tight around your throat.

His teeth sink into your shoulder, lips dragging down the damp skin of your neck and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses between the bruises his hands are already painting onto your body.

"Fuck," he groans, forehead pressing against the nape of your neck as his pace turns erratic, desperate. His breath is hot and ragged against your sweat-slick skin, grip punishing as he holds you still, refusing to let you pull away.

His cock twitches inside you, thick and pulsing, buried so deep you swear you'll feel him for days.

With a sharp, guttural grunt, Ward buries himself to the hilt, his body going taut, his breath catching as he comes deep inside of you, his release flooding you in thick, hot pulses. The moment stretches, endless, heavy with the scent of sweat and sex.

Ward's fingers drag over your skin, slow and deliberate, tracing the bruises he's left like they're some masterpiece of his own design. There's a glint of satisfaction in his dark eyes as he drinks in the sight of you trembling in his hold and full of him.

He pulls out. The stretch of his cock slipping free sends a sharp wave of overstimulation through you, your body clenching involuntarily at the loss. You barely manage to bite back a whimper, your muscles weak, sore, trembling from the sheer force of what he's just done to you. The sudden emptiness is almost unbearable, leaving behind nothing but a slick mess between your thighs.

And God, does it ache.

Yeah, he wasn't just a monster on the inside, the one you loved to death, he also had a damn monster at his disposal and it knew exactly how to break you apart.

Ward smirks as he watches you struggle to steady yourself, his amusement evident as he tucks himself back into his pants, the sound of his zipper slicing through the silence was like a goddamn victory bell.

You force yourself to keep it together as you retrieve your clothes and pretend like your legs aren't still shaking, like you aren't still leaking down behind your thighs.

By the time you step outside the cell and turn to seal the door, he's already standing in front of you millimeters away.

The bars are the only thing keeping him from reaching you, but even that feels fragile, temporary, something he could snap if he truly wanted to. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unreadable.

"Go." It's a simple command, voice rough but steady, a sharp contrast to the wrecked, desperate way he'd been groaning your name just minutes ago.

You straighten up, forcing your legs to hold steady despite the dull ache still pulsing between them, determined to not let him have the last word.

So you smirk. Let your eyes flicker down to where his hands are still gripping the bars, where his knuckles are white with restraint.

"You always act so detached afterward, but you're already waiting at the bars like a dog for his master."

His arms shoot through the bars in a blur of motion, his hands grabbing you, yanking you forward until your body slams against the cold iron. A sharp gasp escapes you at the impact, muffled by his lips devouring you.

A feral kiss, all teeth and tongue, his tongue pushes past your lips, licking into your mouth with a desperation that contradicts the cold, unaffected tone he had just seconds before.

His teeth catch your lower lip, biting down hard enough to sting before he soothes over the mark with his tongue.

You moan into his mouth, unable to hold back the noise, unable to do anything but get consumed by him.

He shoves you away seconds later. Hard enough that you stumble, your breath heaving, lips swollen.

He licks his lips, tasting you there, his expression unreadable as he lets the silence stretch between you.

"You know where to find me." He spoke like nothing has ever happened.

Like he doesn't already know that no matter where you go or what you do—

You'll always come back.

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cece693 · 6 months ago

Text

A Bright Place in the Dark

pairing: spencer reid x gender neutral reader tags: first impressions, reader sees Spencer as innocent and too good to be true, pre-relationship, all knowledge of this fandom comes from Tumblr fics and personal opinion, not fact checked

By the time you arrived at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you were practically reciting facts about Dr. Spencer Reid in your head:

Over 187 IQ

An eidetic memory

A heart too big for a world as harsh as this

Those whispers, however, never prepared you for how human he would be. No legend of brilliance or office gossip about his quirks ever quite captured the softness in his eyes, or the halting way he spoke when he was nervous.

Your first day at the BAU felt like entering another planet. The bullpen buzzed with conversations about suspects, horrifying details of cases, and the flickering overhead lights seemed to spotlight every anxious beat of your heart. And then you saw him—a lanky figure hunched over a precarious tower of files, as though he didn’t know quite how to balance them against his chest.

You caught him looking around, scanning for an empty spot to set the documents down. Except he chose the worst possible moment to shift his weight; the top of the stack slid, pages scattered in every direction.

Dr. Spencer Reid froze, a rush of panicked words tumbling out of his mouth. “Oh no—sorry, sorry. I’m usually not this clumsy. Statistically, people trip at least—”

You bent down to help, offering a friendly grin. “Hey, it’s okay. It happens.”

He paused, as though your small kindness were a revelation. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, and for a split second, you glimpsed the vulnerability behind those gentle hazel eyes. When you straightened up with an armful of papers, you noticed the shy half-smile tugging at Spencer’s mouth. His cheeks had gone just a little pink, and he quickly busied himself by reorganizing the files.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, more subdued than before. “I’m Spencer Reid, by the way…Dr. Spencer Reid. You must be the new profiler—”

“That’s me,” you replied, introducing yourself. “It’s my first day, so I guess we can both say it’s a learning curve.”

He nodded, an anxious laugh slipping out. Then, as if remembering his role, he cleared his throat and motioned to the files. “These are some old case studies. We…we keep them around for reference, though I try to digitize them in my spare time.”

“Sounds fascinating,” you said. And you meant it, curiosity tugging at you like an impatient child. “I’d love to take a look sometime.”

His eyes flicked from the pages to you, wide and a little uncertain. Then, almost imperceptibly, relief smoothed the lines of tension on his forehead. “Sure. That’d be…good. Really good.”

In the following days, you quickly learned that your new job was every bit as tough as everyone warned. Each morning, the team assembled to face tragedies as mind-boggling as they were gruesome. Photos, crime scene details, and psychological autopsies filled your laptop.

Amid all the darkness, there was always him, moving through the chaos with a gentle sort of efficiency. Spencer held a wealth of knowledge in that brilliant mind, quoting statistics, classical literature, and obscure references effortlessly. Yet, you noticed how he spoke as though he feared his own intellect would push people away.

You tried to reach out, offering a smile or a small joke whenever he started rattling off something about “differential equations” or “geospatial profiling.” Each time, his shoulders would relax a fraction, as if he was grateful someone was listening rather than judging.

It wasn’t long before you started working late alongside him. You’d catch Spencer hunched over his desk, stacks of books and case reports spread in front of him, a half-full mug of coffee growing cold.

“Hey,” you said one evening, easing into the adjacent chair. “Mind if I sit?”

He lifted his gaze, blinking as if coming up for air. “Oh, of course, sure.”

Silence settled, filled by the low hum of the overhead lights and the distant clatter of a cleaning cart in the hallway.

“How do you handle it?” you asked, your voice quiet. “All the darkness?”

Spencer leaned back, momentarily lost in thought. “I—well, I guess I try to understand it. If I can figure out why someone does something terrible, maybe it’ll help prevent the next tragedy. At least that’s what I tell myself.” He gave a self-conscious shrug, eyes darting away. “I’m not sure if that’s the best answer.”

You offered a gentle smile. “It’s an honest one. And I think that’s what matters.”

As weeks turned into months, you and Spencer found yourselves gravitating toward each other. Lunchtime in the break room became a quiet sanctuary, where his commentary on quantum theory or historical murder cases was punctuated by the sandwich you’d share half with him because he often forgot to pack lunch.

He’d fret, insisting you didn’t need to share, but you found a simple joy in seeing his face relax when he finally took a break. Sometimes, a ghost of a smile would linger at the corners of his lips afterward, as if he was unused to anyone caring enough to notice his hunger.

You don't know exactly when your interest in the doctor turned into adoration, but perhaps it could be pointed back to when the team was out on a case and you were stuck trying to piece together a spree killer’s timeline. You hit a wall and decided to take a short break—heading to the building’s small courtyard.

Outside, you found Spencer leaning against a concrete pillar, lost in his own world. The afternoon sun gleamed off his hair, painting him in soft yellows and gold. For a moment, you hesitated. He looks so peaceful. But then he glanced up, and the sun highlighted the hope in his eyes. He waved you over.

“Hey,” you said quietly, sidling up next to him.

“Hey,” Spencer replied, his voice warm.

You stood together, the hush of traffic and a distant bird cawing filling the space between you.

“I was thinking about that timeline you mentioned,” he began without prompting. “If the unsub is traveling by bus, then the times might not match traditional driving estimates, and—” He stopped himself, a self-conscious smile forming. “Sorry. Work brain doesn’t really shut off.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t apologize. It’s actually pretty helpful. I think I’ll re-examine the public transit schedules as soon as we go back inside.”

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment. Then, so softly you nearly didn’t hear, he said, “I’m glad you’re here, you know…with the team. With me.”

Warmth flooded your cheeks, and you hoped he couldn’t see it in the bright afternoon light. “I’m glad, too.” Silence settled, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Sometimes no words are needed to enjoy someone's company—so, as you stared at nothing in particular, you developed the courage to ask Spencer out.

“I, uh, know it’s not exactly typical, but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab dinner sometime? Outside of the office, I mean.”

The request hung in the air. Spencer blinked, seeming to mentally catalog the entire situation. You could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“I-I’d like that,” he finally answered, voice a little too fast. A delicate pink brushed across his cheeks.

You had heard the rumors. You’d been told about his genius and his gentle heart—how he deserved the world, though the world often failed to deserve him in return. Watching him now, shoulders slightly hunched as he mentally rehearsed how to do something as simple as dinner, you couldn’t help but think:

If the world won’t cherish him…maybe I will.

He deserved that much, at least. And from the way Spencer offered you a shy smile—a small piece of his guarded heart—you knew he was willing to let you try.

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Wheels up [S. R]

word count: 4k

summary: Spencer has just been released from prison and things seem to get complicated when Mr. Scratch attacks again. You want to know what's going on with your boyfriend, but when you confront him, you don't expect him to yell at you like he does.

contents: spoilers for season 12-13, directly based on the episode of the same name, established relationship, hurt/comfort, spencer being mean for a moment, mentions of migraines and schizophrenia, apologies, crying and I think that's it.

To say that you were worried was an understatement, because to cut all the tension around the team you would no longer even need a knife but a sword.

You had just gotten over the bitter pill of the fact that your boyfriend had been unjustifiably imprisoned when now Scratch had done this: the ambush, Walker's death, Emily's kidnapping… he just couldn't seem to get enough of this sick game.

“We also never stopped to ask why Scratch was in Honduras in the first place,” Simmons murmured next to you.

García, he and you were trying to review as best as possible the existing research on Peter Lewis that you found in your deceased friend's office to see if you could discover any other details, even if it were the slightest thing that could reveal the whereabouts of your unit leader.

“Reid'll figure this out. “He's really amazing at this kind of thing.”

Garcia had barely finished saying this when a roar made her jump in her place and look back. Spencer Reid had just furiously thrown a book against the glass windows. You exchanged a worried look with your friend and the three of you silently agreed to go to the meeting room to investigate what was happening.

When the doctor arrived, he began to rant about what he had managed to discover. He talked about hallucinogenic plants found in Honduras and how this was related to Scratch, but you honestly couldn't pay attention to anything he was saying. You could only focus on the purple spots around his eyes, his messy hair jumping every time he said something, the sweat that glistened on his forehead, the erratic and rushed tone of his words and how he constantly rubbed his face or neck.

Spencer wasn't well.

You had seen him like this when he had feared he was developing an outbreak of schizophrenia and you had hated every second you had accompanied him to get tested, every second of uncertainty, every time you knew his vision was blurring. And now this was a thousand times worse, because you didn't even know how to help him. Shit, you didn't even know if he wanted your help.

While he was in prison he had refused to see you many times and it had broken your heart every time. He claimed that he didn’t want other prisoners to see you talking to him because they would try to use you to threaten him or that he didn’t want you to see the state he was in because he feared that after seeing the bruises and wounds you would no longer love him.

You respected him, but at the same time you felt that he was building a barrier between you so that in case he couldn't get out of there you wouldn't be tied to a prisoner and could live your life normally. That was why when Emily managed to build a solid case to prove his innocence you felt like you were going to die of joy, and when you saw him leave the prison the first thing you did was run into his arms to make sure he was safe.

But Spencer wasn't, because you knew he had only left there so he could help look for his mother: Diana Reid. During the course of everything you had barely seen him, you two were too busy with your own affairs to have a moment as a couple, but even so when you solved everything you let him go with her; after all they deserved it and you were happy that he had a quiet moment.

But Peter Lewis seemed to have other plans.

“What?” Spencer asked, noticing the way Penelope was looking at him. She looked like she was about to cry behind her blue glasses and you felt sorry for her.

“You threw a book at a window. It was jarring”

“Took me 60 minutes to deduce what should have taken me 60 seconds,” he muttered, clearly sounding furious with himself, “and if Emily dies because I was too slow, I'll be throwing a lot more than books.”

“Spencer” you tried to stop him, but he had already started on his way to the exit.

You always wanted to believe that you were his weak point, he had told you that on more than one occasion. When the team couldn't reason with him, they sent you instead.

Reid will do anything you tell him, Morgan used to say, whether it's convincing him about something silly between friends or something more serious.

And so it was, because every time he was upset all it took was for you to make flirtatious eyes at him and steal a kiss for him to forget about it.

One day you're going to be my downfall, did you know that? he used to laugh. You're going to ask me to bring the stars down from the sky and I'll have to figure out a way to do it because I don't know how to say you no.

However, this time he didn't seem to understand any reason. He was just walking towards the exit and you were stumbling after him to catch up with his quick pace.

“Spencer,” you insisted, reaching out to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him. You didn't expect him to stop abruptly to the point where you collided with his chest, in the middle of the desolate hallway you had arrived at.

“What?”

The sharp tone and angry look he gave you unnerved you slightly, but you managed to clear your throat in search of your voice.

“Honey, it's obvious that you're not fine. You need to rest"

"Rest?" he spat, incredulous. “Do you think I can think of resting when we have a situation like this?”

“That's not what I meant. I'm just saying that no one expects you to be here after what happened, you can at least take a break”

The sigh he let out was enough for you to know that whatever was coming was surely not good.

“Huh yeah? And what is that break I'm going to take going to cost us? Emily’s life?”

“You know I'm as worried as you are.”

“I'm not worried, I'm sick. I'm sick of this damn case, I'm sick of one thing after another happening to us and I'm sick of failing."

"I know but…"

“No,” he interrupted you, leaning back when you tried to lay a hand on him. “There's no but. Today I don't need you to tell me what I have to do”

“I'm not telling you what to do, I'm asking you to take care of yourself. How much sleep have you even had? When was the last time you ate?"

Your tone of voice had come out more recriminating than you intended and if you were already tense, this exchange was not helping at all.

Hearing no response, you continued.

“If you're not going to rest, at least let me help you.”

You wanted him to have the confidence to tell you anything, to be able to explain why he was acting so strange or to at least take two minutes to admit that things weren't right. But Spencer had changed a lot in that prison, because if before it was difficult for him to talk about his feelings, now it seemed practically impossible. You were the only one he dared to do it with and you didn't even think you were that exception to the rule anymore.

If you had known what was to come you would have preferred to stay for the moment he took to take a deep breath.

“Do you know how you can help me? Stepping aside”

“Spencer”

“I'm sick of this too! I'm tired of everyone coming and offering me their faces of compassion and their words of encouragement as if they really understood me. They don't do it, nobody does it, not even you. This is... it is a huge and heavy accumulation that has accumulated for years and years and when I think that it can't be worse, life surprises me by saying that yes, it can be worse. So just shut up, let me do my job, let me catch Scratch and for the love of God stop treating me like I'm a child because on top of all the stress of the case I have to deal with that too and honestly it's killing me”

Your boyfriend turned around without waiting for a response and a part of you was grateful that was the case, or else he would have seen the tears that had already gathered in your eyes.

You were shocked and felt your face burning with shame, with a hole in your stomach that wouldn't be easy to fill. You were no longer even worried about the man, nor sad, but you felt very different; it was as if Reid had infected you with his anger.

Still with wet cheeks you hurried to walk in the opposite direction, finding yourself at the end of the hallway to meet a very worried Penelope García. Without letting her tell you anything, you asked her to continue with the investigation and the entire time you swallowed your pain.

You knew that Peter Lewis' desperate face when he was hanging from that building and the way you and Luke left him to die would haunt you for a lifetime, but you didn't feel even the slightest bit sorry for it. Even a part of you wished that man had died a slower and perhaps even painful death. Whatever the case, he was gone and you could feel a second of peace at night.

Spencer was right, the most important thing now was to save Emily. Later there would be time to attend to marital discussions.

When you got home you were sweaty, tired, and had a headache that you knew a shower could probably solve, adding a glass of good wine just to be safe. However, clinging to that peace of mind that solving the case had provided you was only a mechanism to postpone confronting the problem that was still latent. You hadn't spoken to Spencer for the rest of the day since your fight in the hallway and although your heart ached you knew this was the prudent thing to do.

Fighting had never had a place in your relationship because both of you were too rational to be carried away by impulse. You had disagreements and arguments, but you had tried to resolve them like adults or you had let the matter rest until you were cool-headed enough to speak calmly. You suspected that right now you were doing the latter, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn't be the one who would look for your boyfriend to talk to.

You were hurt by the way he had reacted to your advice, but a part of you also understood that Spencer had been going through too much and that, in some ways, he had some right to want his own space. Or maybe both of you were partly to blame; you for demanding something that didn't belong to you and him for not having said things tactfully enough.

But you couldn't help but miss him. You had spent so many months away from him that you longed to be in his arms, shower him with kisses and hear the soft beat of his heart just to make sure he was real.

Still lost in your thoughts you searched the living room for your briefcase to grab your cell phone, hoping to find something to distract yourself, and upon unlocking it you discovered that you had several missed calls from Spencer. It wasn't like you were ignoring him on purpose, rather it had been an oversight on your part, but when you were about to dial his number a new call was announced on the screen. It was him.

"Hello?"

“There you are,” he murmured, sounding tremendously relieved “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I just left the phone in my briefcase and that's why I didn't hear your calls. I'm sorry"

There was silence for an awkward moment and then he spoke again.

“You went home early.”

"I was tired. I told Emily.”

“Yes, she… he told me, but… Do you think I can see you? I would like to talk to you about something and I don't think it is appropriate to do so on the phone.”

You evaluated your options, looking at everything around you. Spencer was welcome whenever he wanted in your house and you knew a mess wouldn't matter to him, but you were more worried about him noticing the emotional mess, not the physical one.

“Y/N?”

“Yes,” you responded when you heard your name, without thinking too much. “You can come”

Spencer responded with a monosyllable and then he hung up. You were about to get up from the couch to look for something more decent than colorful pajamas when a knock on the door startled you. When there was no response, the person knocked again and when you tiptoed until you reached the peephole, you met a familiar silhouette who was visibly nervous. Apparently the look of confusion on your face when you opened it was enough to express a silent question to Spencer.

“I was in the hallway,” he explained to you. “I didn't want to take long if you said yes.”

You knew you shouldn't give in so easily, but it was hard when Spencer said things like that and he came to your house looking completely disoriented, sad, and regretful.

"Can I come in?" he asked. Although your silences were not with that intention, the truth was that you were making him even more nervous.

"Yeah, you can”

You turned around only when you heard the click of the door closing and leaned against it, waiting for him to say something. You took a moment to observe him and noticed that his clothes were slightly disarrayed, while his hands played with the leather strap that was still across his chest. When he noticed that you were looking at his hands he interpreted it as a sign to get rid of the garment, and so he did.

“Wine?”

“Rossi gave it to me,” you responded, following his gaze to the bottle on the coffee table along with the crystal glass.

Spencer opened his mouth slightly in understanding and then there was silence again.

“I think it's obvious why I'm here, right?” he murmured in a low, cautious voice. You looked at him with sealed lips. “I want to apologize.”

“Yeah?”

"Yes. I know I shouldn't have talked to you like that in the office”

“No, you shouldn't have done it,” you responded sternly “And I accept if you don't want me around, but…”

“No,” he interrupted you, lunging forward to take your hands. You didn't refuse. “It's not that. I want you close, I don't want you to go away”

“I want you close too, Spencer. And I care about you. That's why I tell you things, not because I want to bother you."

“I know not. I was wrong, okay? I was wrong and I had no right to yell at you just because I was upset. And I wasn't upset with you, I was upset about the case and… it was just too much. This is all too much” by this point Spencer’s voice had already broken and your arms were already open for him.

It didn't take much for your boyfriend to start sobbing.

"I'm sorry"

“I know, Spencer.”

"I was an idiot"

“Yes, you certainly were,” you responded, speaking barely above a whisper. You couldn't stop feeling empathy for your boyfriend, but you couldn't ignore your own pain either. “You made me feel so hurt.”

“Forgive me, you know that was not my intention.”

“I just want to see you well. I want you to be safe and help you, but you won't let me do it. And it's okay if you don't want my help, but you can't deny that you need help. We need help. Do you think I wasn't stressed too? Do you think I could care less about finding Emily?”

“I know not. I know…” he sobbed.

“And I understand that we were both going through a hard time but you had no right to treat me like that.”

"You hate me?"

“Of course I don't hate you. I love you very much and I always will, but when something bad happens we don't yell at each other. And I'm not hating you for this, did you hate me that time in Georgia when I went into negotiating in that hostage situation without consulting anyone?

"No. I was very angry and worried about you, but I would never have hated you.”

"You see it? It's the same” you said softly.

You weren't going to torture him with this and you didn't want him to kneel and ask for forgiveness, the message you wanted to give him was already more than clear. And you knew that the simple act of accepting his mistake was something that showed you that he cared about you.

“It won't happen again, I promise.”

“Oh, it may happen again. We are both dumb sometimes and the older we get the grumpier we become” you tried to joke. Although you didn't hear him laugh, you knew that it had lightened the atmosphere. “But talking about it makes him feel better, right? Just like now”

He nodded at your question and then your hand went up to his head to stroke his hair. The contact seemed to melt him against you, as if with this you had also given free rein to his crying. You knew he probably wasn't going to tell you about the horrors he'd experienced in prison yet, but maybe this moment could be a start; you were being honest with each other and after all that was what was important.

Spencer calmed down after a long while and when you separated you made sure to get him some napkins so he could wipe his tears and blow his nose.

“You're seriously not upset at me?”

“No,” you assured him, shaking your head at the same time. You approached him and raised your hands to his cheeks to hold him gently. “It's okay, Spencer. I would be upset if you hadn't apologized."

“I wanted to do it sooner, but I knew that maybe you needed time to… you know, not want to strangle me”

“You're always so smart,” you complimented him and this time he did laugh.

The man's hands were experimentally placed on your waist and upon noticing your approving smile he pulled you a little closer to him until you collided against his chest. The puffiness in his eyes didn't stop him from giving you a sweet look.

“I haven't kissed you since I came back,” he observed absently and after thinking about it for a second you realized it was true.

You hadn't even kissed him. You had gone three months without seeing him and you still hadn't had time to kiss him.

You opened your mouth slightly, but before you could say anything he had already leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. With the help of your hand sliding to the back of his neck you deepened the contact and Spencer wasted no time, wrapping his thin arms around your torso.

Even if you didn't want to admit it, you had already forgotten how good it felt to kiss him and amid everything you thought that you wished you could capture that moment in a jar to turn to it when necessary. Because after everything that had happened that day you really needed that moment of peace with him.

His lips were slightly parted, but your gentle tongue took care of moistening them and when the air began to fail you just let him go for a second, kissing him again when you breathed enough. Your kisses were sweet and soft enough to dissipate the rest of the guilt that remained in your lover's body.

"Better?" you asked once you two were satisfied. It took him a moment to compose himself from the intoxication of your kiss to be able to answer you.

"Yes, I feel better"

“How is Diana, by the way?” you said quietly, leaning back a little to look him in the eyes.

“She is fine, I managed to admit her to a sanatorium before García called me. It will only be for tonight, tomorrow I will look for where she can stay permanently” he answered you, rubbing his tired face with a hand “I think it would be best for us to return to Las Vegas”

“You should go to her now” it hurt you to give him that advice, but you knew that he must have other priorities now. One of your hands kindly caressed his bicep, feeling how he had lost considerably in weight.

“You don't want me to stay here?”

“I don't want you to feel obligated. I know Diana needs you more than me."

“She'll be fine today,” he murmured. Apparently he wanted to be with you more than you thought. “I left my number and she'll be asleep right now. As much as he wants to deny it, I think… that she is better off with professionals”

“So you want to stay here?”

You had sounded more excited than you intended and just because of the sparkle in your eyes he felt the urge to steal another kiss from you.

"Of course I want to. I missed you so much, I just want to feel you close to me."

“I can stay only if you promise me two things.”

“What is it?”

“We’re going to try to sleep,” you asked him, passing the tip of your index fingers under his eyes. “I don't like that look at all and I think you could use some rest. I have a comfortable bed waiting just for you.”

“I'd love that,” he smiled weakly. “What's the second thing?”

“Tomorrow you will let me cook you something delicious before we go to your mother.”

The thought of you spoiling him so much made him smile.

"Done deal"

You carefully guided him to your room and once there you kissed him again. Spencer felt like he was going to cry again when he noticed that you still had the change of clothes that he had left in your closet over three months ago and the soft fabric along with the familiar scent filled his chest with joy.

You two snuggled under the warmth of the sheets and you made sure to kiss your lover's face countless times while your hands touched every piece of skin you had within reach, trying to show him that he didn't have to worry about anything; you wanted him to know that you loved him and that he was somewhere safe.

"Are you okay?"

You spoke in the middle of the darkness, while Spencer had his full weight on top of yours. His nose rubbed slightly against your bare skin and he found it necessary to leave another kiss there.

“I am now.”

And even if it only lasted for a brief moment, Spencer knew that nothing compared to the peace and tranquility of being with you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @instabull @rhiannonhippiegirl @r-3dlips @missabsey @olivia’s-25

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #luke alvez #matt simmons #tara lewis #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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thepinkdreamganjaqueen · 9 months ago

Text

Focus On Me

Randall Kirkland x Fem!Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Y/N is the newest arrival to the township. Amongst all the townsfolk, she takes a liking to the most unlikable guy in town when things go awry at the colony house. How will she survive the night?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, DubCon (kinda), breeding, public sex, exhibitionism, drug use, mentions of DV, mentions of violence (murder), swearing, fem!reader, romantic smut, aftercare (he deserves that and more!)

A/N: Randall Kirkland needs love, y'all!! You know, under that cold abrasive exterior, he's a total softie with a good heart! From is such a great show, I love Randall and will protect him at all costs!!! Story is cannon, no spoilers for new season, but it's definitely the reason I wrote it… especially after ep. 6. Randall is baby girl!! Please enjoyyy! I love and appreciate you all! Feel free to reach out anytime! I welcome all interaction!

Word Count: 5.4k

FOCUS ON ME

Stepping back into colony house was heavy after last night. Donna and Boyd were outside at first light to cover and remove the body of yet another victim to these creatures. You often reminisced of your days before this nightmare you were trapped in. Wishing, hoping to wake up. You arrived in the township by yourself, close to sunset. The folks at colony house were welcoming albeit, strange. You understood now. Often disassociating from the truth and drowning yourself in a journal or sneaking off to vape THC, often walking in the woods, trying to make sense of things, to find… something. Like everyone's first night, you struggled to take in what this place was, what it did to people, not wanting or willing to trust anyone. There was no answers or information as to why this was all happening, no one communicated, and you felt alone. Everyone else seemingly accepting their fates. Except one person. A guy by the name of Randall who people whispered about in the colony house. After hearing some not so stellar rumors about fighting and guns, you initially opted to stay away. Not just from him but closing yourself off to others as well. Sure, some of them seemed nice, but you knew no one or the circumstances that led you to this place. It just didn’t make sense. It was hard to trust anyone, truly.

After your third night here, you awoke from maybe two hours of sleep to find people rummaging through your things. Personal items mixed with sentimental items that you once thought held value. You were in the middle of a move, taking only your most precious items with on the initial voyage from Key West to Seattle escaping from a violent DV situation literally upheaving your entire life. A new life, new beginnings and new opportunities you had once looked forward to. That was before the tree appeared in the road and the crows circled above.

The car alarm was jarring waking you from an unrestful sleep, you bolted out the door to see people with handfuls of your clothes, bagging up your journals and other personal effects. It felt as if they were taking what was left from your old life, what made you, you. Without hesitation you started ripping your items from the hands of the thieves. One of the women started yelling while trying to yank back your things, you didn’t hear her and acted out, launching a solid fist into her jaw causing her to fall back as others went to restrain you trying to talk about the rules, and other things you were too upset to hear.

This place was already loathsome enough, you thought. “You can't take my things!” You yelled as people held you back, each holding one arm. You bucked and screamed until they let go and you fell to the ground. A crowd had begun to form on the porch, watching you. You could feel the heat of anger and embarrassment rise in your cheeks. You pant in defeat, looking at the ground sobbing as people loaded your things into the home. Boots appeared in front of you and a hand reached down. A deep voice spoke out “Here, stand up” You recognized the face immediately as Randall, who had wandered over after hearing the commotion. Him and some folks from town were trying to build some kind of radio tower near the garden.

You took his hand and stood, dusting off the front of your pants where wet dirt had stained your knees. “Don’t let them see you like this” he whispered. “Give her back her shit!” He yelled to the crowd. Donna stepped forward demanding everyone calm down, she then firmly reminded Randall of the rules if “she” wanted to stay here. “As a community, we have to share everything equally” she had said to him while looking at you. “My journals? My clothes? Are you serious? Its all I have!” You said wanting to swing again but refraining, what good would it do. Your stuck with everyone here anyway. “That or you can do as Randall here did and leave if you don't like the rules” she said directly to you in a condescending manor.

You storm off in a huff, not wanting to display any more emotion than you already have. You walked away fists clenched and head down when you heard footsteps beside you. “Thank you.” You said. Looking up and meeting his eyes. It was Randall. His smoldering gaze made your breath catch in your throat. He stood at least a foot or more taller than you, athletic build, clean shaved buzz cut, hazel-green eyes, and a dimpled chin. Funny you thought, all the talk about him, how terrible he is, how difficult he can be, and yet he was the only person to stick up for you.

“Its bullshit, you know it, I know it. They tried that with me too when I got here.” He said as you two continued walking away. “What did you do? Did you get your things back?” You asked. “Yeah eventually, and they kicked me out because of it. Didn’t want to follow their rules” he said with a half grin. “I stay in the bus away from everyone else.” He lamented. Explaining how Donna had showed him how to use the talisman and wished him luck as he took his things. "Wow. What a peach," you said. “I'm Randall, by the way” he said while sticking a hand out. You reached to shake it “Y/N” you replied.

It was nice talking to someone, you had felt alone here for the past few days, even more so when they began taking your things, it felt like your identity being stripped away. He seemed to understand, and vice versa, you understood him and his reasoning. He had already come to terms with some new truths about this place having been here longer, but you were still taking it all in, or rather, bottling it up and pushing it away. Whatever worked really. “So, where are you going?” He asked while walking beside you. “I guess, just for a walk to clear my head. Wanna come?” You asked, flashing a smile at him. “Sure. Anything to get away” you both chuckled as you led the way to the tree line.

You learned a lot from him that day you first met him. You exchanged stories of your lives before, where you were going, what you were doing prior. He spoke candidly with you. It was truly refreshing. Sure, he was abrasive and blunt. You could see that on the surface, but somewhere below, you could see he was kind, that he cared, and that he, like the rest of us, was scared. You found it easy to talk to him and it was nice having conversations that didn’t completely revolve around death or scary night serial killer creatures. It was a nice escape from reality, one you both suffered from and needed badly. Spending much of your walk laughing and cracking jokes. His humor was dark much like your own, something you appreciated. You quickly found yourself wanting to talk to him all the time. He was relatable and understanding. He exuded strength and confidence and a no bullshit demeanor. Everyone else seemed so fake, or so lost.

Although your conversations mostly remained light, he did speak about the people here too, about not trusting anyone, and how no one has really done anything or tried to figure this all out. He explained that living in the bus was hard, the creatures came every night like a routine, he studied them closely. Trying to find weaknesses, vulnerabilities, any information really. You two had stopped for a while. You remembered you had your pen in your pocket and asked him if he was ok with it. "Do you mind if I uh" you said as you wiggled the pen in your fingers. “Nah” he said with a grin. He stood taking stock of the environment you found yourselves in as smoke billowed from your lips into the cold morning air. You nonchalantly hold the pen out to him while also examining the environment. He looked down and grabbed the pen before clicking the button and drawing from the mouthpiece. Eliciting a couple small coughs from him. “Thanks, needed to take the edge off” he said while trying to catch his breath as you two began the trek back to town. You hadn't wandered off too far, never did in fear of getting lost before dark.

He walked back to colony house with you. You didn’t want to go back, wasn’t ready to after this morning but nightfall approached. Randall stopped at the steps as you ascended. “Thank you, for today. I was really struggling, so, I appreciate you talking with me. It was nice.” You said with a coy smile. He nodded “Tomorrow we’ll get your stuff back okay.” He said. “Thank you, please be safe.” You lamented, truly hoping he made it through the night. You at least found solace in knowing you made a friend here. Knowing that made you feel less alone, but when you were on the couch at night as the creatures roamed the streets as Randall watched. You felt more alone than ever. A resident walked by wearing your shoes. You rolled your eyes and turned over, waiting for the night to be over. Tomorrow you would get your things back. You decided you weren't coming back to colony house. Maybe you could stay with someone in town, but you just couldn’t stay sane in a house full of people, especially when they were taking your things. You drifted off thinking of Randall, and what it must be like to stay on the bus at night.

You were awoken by screaming. Someone had gotten killed last night and their body was left in the road in town. You heard residents chatter as Donna left to help dispose of the body. Before your mind could fully wake your body pulled itself up and ran for the door. You walked over to town, not wanting to see the body, but wanting to make sure it wasn’t Randall. A crowd formed around the body as Boyd tried to control the commotion with his hands waving telling people to move back. The bus was down the street a bit further away when you saw the door open and Randall step out to see what happened, who had gotten killed. Boyd gave his speech about safety at night and not trusting the creatures. You found yourself walking over to the bus where Randall stood arms crossed leaning against the open door. He straightened as you approached. “Let's go get your things” he said. “No one needs your journals and shit but you!” He said while starting to walk.

The crowds were all down near the diner speculating about last night's murder. Only one or two people were at the house. You began collecting your personal effects from the rooms and basement where much of it was stored, mixed with other linens in a chest. “What if they don’t let me stay anymore” you said, voice full of concern. Randall set a bag down thinking for a moment. “Then you can stay in the bus with me.” The words sent shivers down your spine. The bus seemed so unsafe; he spoke about how vulnerable it made him feel. No shades for the windows, no pretending like everything is ok at night like the others have the luxury of doing. But it also excited you in a way. Randall was the only person here you’ve connected with, and on a deep level. You felt compelled to stay with him for reasons that can only be blamed on your hormones and lack of social life here. Maybe you would both be better off if neither of you were alone. You could feel heat rise in your cheeks as you continued to pack your things and head for the bus.

After dropping off your things to the bus Randall was kind enough to help you carry, you both opted for another walk in the woods. It was a calmer environment; it was almost like being taken away from the commotion and despair that was the township and the townsfolk. Randall was a breath of fresh air. He saw through the bullshit and told it like it is. You appreciated his directness, especially when it came to you. “They think what they're doing is right, but they have no idea, no one does" you could sense the frustration in his voice. An emotion you shared. You agreed. “I get people are scared, we all are, but why can't anyone come together and think of something more than a temporary fix. These talismans are Band-Aids over a bigger issue were almost ignoring or just not trying hard enough to figure out. How many people are here, have been here, with nothing to show for it? With no answers as to why or how?” Randall shook his head. “See, you get it” he said as he reached to grab the pen from your hand.

You two had found a log to sit and chat. Remarking at the landscape, trying to find something, anything really. Every answer he found only led to more questions, but at least he was trying rather than ignoring it like nothing ever happened. Like we all just chose to live here, to be here. Neither him nor you accepted that sentiment. He wanted out just like you did. But in the meantime, at least you had each other in a way.

He never said anything but it seemed like he enjoyed your company. Willingly going on walks with you and talking for hours about anything. You were both a nice distraction for each other from the daily depression of existence within the confines of this horrible place. You found solace in him. A warm presence like protection and safety. That night you two had stayed awake for the most part talking through the screeches and screaming heard in the distance. Helping one another to ignore the words of the creatures when they would tap on the bus windows asking to come inside. It was scary but you two got through it.

He had been used to this for some time. As used to it as someone could get, you supposed. But he was able to help you through your first night on the bus. “Focus on me” he said when they wandered to the window at the seat you occupied. He sat next to you and reached for your hand squeezing tightly. “Just focus on me”. The words he spoke echoed in your mind that evening until it darkened with slumber.

You must have drifted off at some point because you awoke at first daylight as the sun began streaming into the windows. Randall was still sitting next to you. Had he held your hand all night? You must have fallen asleep on him. He could have shifted or asked you to move so he could sleep as well. But he didn’t. He sat there with you all night as your head rest upon his shoulder. When you moved, he jumped suddenly, eyes shot open and looking around. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” You said grabbing his leg and shaking it gently. He immediately relaxed.

“Bad dream?” You asked. “No. No I uh, I just never really fall asleep in here. Sorry.” He spoke in a soft voice. “I haven't been able to sleep much at all my self since I've been here. But I was able to last night. I have you to thank for that” you looked on as he processed what you said. “Don’t worry about it. I should uh, thank you too. Having you here I guess, made it easier for me. Not having to be alone when those things show up.” He said clearing his throat and shifting slightly in his seat. “I appreciate you letting me sleep here. And I'm sorry about falling asleep on you” you said sheepishly.

He grabbed your hand once more “Like I said, don’t worry about it.” A light smile lingered on his lips before he left. He had gone up to colony house again. Him and a few others that he was able to gather, had left to scavenge materials for the radio tower they were building. He would be gone for a while, so you spent your day mostly in the woods searching for answers, stopping by the diner for a quick meal then returning to the bus before nightfall.

You sat in the fourth row back from the entrance. There was a break in seating here and room for your things in front of you without feeling crowded. This was normally where he would sit. You sat and journaled about your day, about last night. Jotting down ideas, possible relations between happenings and the effects, trying to make sense of things. The familiar ding of the nightly bell Boyd used to warn the townsfolk rang on the distance as the sky began to darken.

You realized Randall wasn’t back at the bus yet. Your mind spiraled into worry. You panicked rushing to the bus door closing it and waiting for him to arrive. You looked in all directions when you spot him emerge from by the clinic. He’s running to the bus as those creatures slowly follow behind him ever so menacingly. You open the door before he gets to it yelling for him to hurry. He rushes in and runs to a seat. You shut the door behind him insuring its fully closed then rush to help him. Was he hurt? What was going on? He was frantically tearing at his clothes and swatting as if there was something near him.

You stepped close to him trying to calm him, it was as if he could hear you but couldn’t respond. You could see he was scared and was seeing something you couldn’t, his eyes flickered looking at something. Not odd for this place but nonetheless, you were concerned. He was back on the bus, but was he actually safe? What happened out there? You wondered as you tried to calm him. “Randall! Hey! It’s me you’re okay!!” You tried to consol him. You grabbed onto him holding his arms and entering his vision. He was sunk into the seat eyes still wide with fear. You put your weight on him, straddling him in the seat grabbing his face trying to redirect his attention. “Randall!” You yelled helplessly. You were scared, unsure what else to do in this moment. Unsure how to help.

He sat with you on top of him, still unphased. It’s as if he was stuck in a waking nightmare. Suddenly all you could think was to potentially shock his system somehow to take him out of it. "Randall, focus on me, okay?” You lean in quickly, pressing your lips to his, breathing deeply through your nose. Laughter could be heard coming from the creatures that had gathered around the bus. You ignored them. You continued kissing him. Softly pressing your lips to his watching his reaction. His eyes went half lidded before flickering shut.

His breathing slowed and body stopped trembling. He kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You embraced it and closed your eyes. You didn’t expect that. You pulled away for a moment examining his expression, wanting to know if he was out of the woods so to speak. “Are you okay?” You asked. He looked at you with surprise. “Why did you do that?” He spoke softly, still holding you to him. “I'm so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do, I just wanted to shock your system or something. I had to pull you out of that! I was scared for you, and you showed up past dark and-" he cut you off suddenly, pulling your face back to his. You melted in his grasp, returning the kiss with fervor. You wrapped your arms around him while he pulled you closer as your tongues searched each other's mouths, teeth clashing as you vigorously and passionately kiss.

Somewhere outside there was knocking at the windows of the bus as the creatures taunted you. Neither him nor you paid attention. Your focus remained on each other. As long as the talisman hung from the frame of the bus within and the doors and windows were shut, you were fine as far as you knew. Not accounting for whatever happened to Randall. Regardless of what it was you were able to redirect his attention and pull him back, putting his focus back on you.

Moans escaped your lips as his hands caressed your back, sides, and hips, rocking you on him. You could begin to feel the stillness grow in his pants. It was hard to ignore as it pressed against your thigh. His hands slid under the backside of your shirt; you could feel the cold air from the bus creep underneath. You took a moment to pull your shirt up over your head, fully immersing yourself in the heat of the moment. You weren't even thinking about those things outside watching. Let them, you thought.

You caught his gaze after removing your shirt, his eyes met yours with a look of longing. You felt the same, the need. You had only been alone here for less than a week, he had been here for months. You could only imagine how alone he must have felt. Your heart ached for him, but your body lusted. You could feel heat envelope every part of you, concentrating in your groin where you began to throb for him. Your hand wandered his body, exploring every muscle, every curve and line, tracing it with your fingers, following where it led. He continued rocking your hips into him, his face now stern with concentration as he looked in your eyes watching you squirm as he rocked you slowly forward then slowly back.

The look in his eyes as he watched you soaked your panties, that, and the friction he applied. But the way he looked at you, like he needed you, drove the innermost primal part of you absolutely insane. You began rocking with his grip, pushing yourself onto his stillness. Your head flung back as he began pressing kisses to your décolletage, biting at the fleshy mounds beneath your bra breathing heavily.

You slid a hand between you and him down to his waistline tugging at the buttons on his jeans. He motioned to undo them and took them and his boxers off. You stood and slid your pants and panties down as well, taking them off completely before returning to his lap. You grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself as you put your knees on either side of him, while he slapped your ass. You cried out at the sting of the slap that reverberated through the silence of the bus. He looked up at you and grinned, rubbed up your thighs to your backside, grabbing a handful of flesh in each hand and bringing you in for another passionate kiss.

Your chest heaved against his as you lustfully devoured him. You could feel him even firmer now. You were soaking wet; he must feel it you thought as you mindlessly grinded against his length. After breaking from the kiss, you lean your forehead to his looking into his eyes then down at your hand that was moving to grip him. He gasped as you took hold of him, stroking him slowly as you looked into his eyes. He was rock hard and throbbing. His tip sticky with precum. You used your fingers to spread it around before scooting yourself against him and sliding his length up and down your slit.

Your hand held him firm to you as you slightly moved up and down. His manhood throbbing against your clit as he slid so easily against your slick cunt. He had been pawing at your flesh, squeezing, pinching and scratching at your back as you teased him. His face buried between your breasts sucking and biting. He would reach up and grab them and caress them, running his tongue over them leaving a trail of cooled skin behind that made you shiver every time he breathed.

He would look up at you periodically, watching your face enjoy him. The hand you used to hold him against you slowly started applying pressure until he was at your entrance, and you slowly slid down, taking time to accept his size within you. You cried out as he breached, just the tip making you want more. You slid down fully, watching his face contort as you forced him inside you. You were dripping wet yet he was quite substantial, so you felt yourself stretch as he entered.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you start to slowly grind and bounce on top of him. His hands were back at your hips trying to control the speed, pushing you down on him harder each time. His look was stern as he focused on you, looking directly into your eyes as he met every bounce of yours with a thrust of his own. Each thrust drawing a cry from you. Your moans and cries of passion paired with his grunts and heavy breathing, drowned out all the outside noise. All the screaming all the nightmarish things just beyond the windows were now worlds away. They could probably hear you over at colony house with how intense it was, how loud he had you. You pick up your knees bringing your feet onto the seat on either side of him, grabbing his shoulders as you continue to ride him.

His head fell back against the seat eyes closed as he used his hands placed under your thighs to help lift you as you rose and fell against his length. A look of relaxation and serenity you had never seen on him before. You provided a peaceful temporary escape for him. You watched as his chest rose and fell with each panting breath that escaped his lips. You watched how his lips quivered with each passing exhale. You reach a hand up from his shoulders and caress his face softly, he burrowed his cheek into your embrace. You cradled him as he looked at you adoringly. You wondered what he was thinking.

You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he grabbed you and flipped you onto the seat. He hovered above you as you pulled your knees to your chest. He pushed heavily against you, leaning into your knees, filling you completely. He leaned back slightly, grabbing behind your knees, placing your ankles upon his shoulders as he began drilling into you. The pain he must have experienced here, the things he's seen. You couldn’t imagine. You wanted him to take it all out on you, to have you exactly how he would want. All of his frustrations, anger, and fear, pounded into your readily waiting cunt. You wanted to give him that release, anything to take the pain away, even if only for a moment.

Your legs clung loosely around his neck as he continued pressing his weight against you, forcing loud moans to escape your lips every time he buried himself within you, hitting your cervix. He was so enveloped in you. Watching your face twist with every thrust against you.

He needed this, but so did you, perhaps neither one of you knew. It would have eventually led here though you thought. He was the only one in town you found yourself able to relate to, the only one who stood up for you. Whatever ideas or thoughts people had about him were wrong. They just didn’t know him or understand him. This place makes people crazy; everyone reacts differently. It’s a big change to adapt to that no one wants to.

Enveloped in your thoughts about him as the pleasure began to become overwhelming, you pulled your legs back down spreading them wide and wrapping them around his back as you tugged on his shirt, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. Holding him as close to you as you could. You took his tongue into your mouth, sucking it and pulling from the kiss with a gentle bite to his lip. This only made his motions increase furiously. He slammed into you continuously, teeth gritted, eyes narrow. A wave of pleasure washed over you emanating from your core, a sensation that began taking over your entire body. You clawed at his back, leaving red lines trailing your fingernails, it made him shiver under your touch. He could tell you were close; he was too. “Please, don’t stop!” You cooed in his ear.

The creatures still outside could be heard chattering near the windows. Why were they watching? Maybe it mattered, maybe it didn’t. Right now, it didn’t, Randall was your focus and you-his. You had managed to pull him from his waking nightmare, however difficult that may have been. You did it, you helped him. Whatever control they had over him, was not present when he was with you.

Hearing your plea, he maintained his rhythm as your legs began to quiver and shake around him. You squeezed your legs tightly around him as you arched your back, meeting his thrusts with your own enthusiasm. Still holding him close, his forehead resting against yours, your eyes watched each other approach the precipice of climax, focusing only on one another. You could feel him begin to pulsate within you as your own climax began to coalesce. Your walls clenching tightly around him as he buried himself to the hilt. No longer able to hold on. As your own climax eclipsed his. The pulsating of his member echoed by your own quivering climax. You both erupted. Your moans filling the air of the bus and beyond. The feeling, immeasurable, as he let out an animalistic groan, thrusting into you with every pulsating shot of his essence that painted your insides. You could feel each pump, burning you from within, a fire you so badly desired.

His face relaxed, shoulders dropped, every ounce of tension left his body with his seed, spilled deep within you. Your bodies, both shaking with exhaustion and satisfaction. Temporary focus offering temporary relief for you both. He slumped beside you cradling you to him with his large arms wrapped around you. You felt his breath on your neck, still heavy but slowing, his stillness pressed against your back as pearls of his desire dripped from your core, slowly leading a trail down your thigh.

He pulled a blanket draped over the seat behind him and spread it over you and him with one arm. You turned your head slightly to him and raised a palm to stroke his cheek as you planted a kiss upon his lips before turning back around. He looked at you admiringly, his eyes soft and a smile that touched the corners of his lips. He kissed the back of your head before cradling himself in the crook of your neck as he held you close to him. "Thank you for letting me stay here with you.” You felt him nod and his arms squeeze you tighter. “I'm not going anywhere; you don’t have to tell me what's going on if you don’t want to. Just know I'm here, you're not alone, and my focus is on you.” You spoke candidly in a loving voice. He only nuzzled his face into your neck further, peppering your shoulder with light kisses as he quickly drifted to sleep.

#randall kirkland smut #randall kirkland #randall kirkland x fem reader #randall kirkland x you #from mgm #from fanfiction #ao3 #pink dream ganja queen #smut #mgm+ from #from epix #aj simmons #from tv #randall kirkland x reader #randall from #epix from

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natti-ice · 11 months ago

Text

— just a stranger.

18+ mdni

pairing: male character x fem!reader

cw: p in v, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of alcohol

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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The smell of smoke and hand soap lingers in the air around you as your mouth clashes with his, the loud bass from the live band vibrates the small bathroom stall, you can’t help but moan as his tongue slides against yours. You don’t normally hook up with strangers at bars but there was something so captivating about this man you couldn’t deny his invitation to the bathroom, the taste of whiskey off his lips sends a flood down to your core- desperate for friction you reach down and unbuckle his belt as fast as possible.

He takes the hint and takes over, unbuttoning his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers. You gasp softly against his mouth as you feel your dress being yanked above your waist, his fingers make their way into the band of your soaked panties. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his finger tips gently graze your swollen clit “Jesus, sweetheart, you’re already wet” his husky, lust filled voice scratches something in your brain. The horny daze you’re in takes over your body, you don’t think about your next move you just let your body take control.

You reach down and grab a hold of his cock and gently stroke it while looking deep into his eyes, without breaking eye contact he pushes your panties down to your knees and moves you against the cold metal stall door. He steps right in front of you and brings his cock between your legs, your legs tremble as the tip glides up and down your puffy lips. He pulls your legs apart more and you grab a hold of the toilet paper holder for balance, the head of his dick slow presses into your entrance asking for permission. You nod quickly giving him the okay, you couldn’t help but feel so needy right now. The ache between your legs could only be fixed by one solution and that solution was this stranger’s big cock.

You cover your mouth immediately as he pushes further into you until he bottoms out, you bite your tongue hard to fight back the moan of pure ecstasy that’s lodged in your throat. His pleasured groans meet your ears as he starts to pump into you, his hand slams against the door that holds you up to balance himself, your free hand snakes behind him and grips his ass. Soft swears are muttered against your neck as his hot lips place gentle kisses against your sensitive skin. Your body tenses immediately as you hear the bathroom door open and a few people come stumbling in, your brain tells you to push the guy away but you’re so lost in pleasure that you don’t move.

He pulls away from your neck for a moment and you look up at him to see a wicked grin slapped across his face, his pace doesn’t slow down as he reaches up and grabs your wrist to pull away your hand that’s clamped over your mouth. He whispers to you “don’t hold back sweetheart, let the whole bar hear what a good girl you are.” His voice was pure sex and you couldn’t help but listen to his demand, you let out the moans, allowing yourself to enjoy this very hot situation. You could hear laughing coming from outside the stall but you didn’t care, the orgasm you were chasing was too tempting to pass up.

Your back arches as a loud grunt leaves his perfect mouth, your pussy clenches around him as you go over the edge, you don’t hold anything back as you cum- letting all the swears fill the small space around you. His amused chuckle is followed by a shuttered groan as you feel him spill into your body, he collapses against you, panting softly as the both of you catch your breath. After a few moments past the haze starts to clear, you feel his breath against your ear, there’s a gentleness to his words as he says, “best pussy of my life.”

For some reason you believed him, you’ve only know him for a few hours but something about the way he said it makes you truly believe that you’re the best he’s ever had.

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1-800-local-slut · 1 year ago

Text

Back and Forth

Franklin Saint x Black! Fem! ex-gf! Reader

Franklin is that toxic ex that won't leave you alone, you're no better. Franklin and the reader are on again off again but for some reason they just don't work every time.

This is for all the girlies who bounce on business, I would fold for Franklin instantly. This man could be my favorite evil ex, idc. Stand on business tho y'all, Franklin is my favorite fictional liar but best believe I stand ten toes down.

Warnings: allusions to smut, drinking, drug dealing, typical Snowfall violence, season 3 Franklin, smoking weed (stay off that booga suga y'all), mentions of death, toxic relationship, Franklin is also pretty possessive, both of y'all are really jealous, reader is described as a crazy bitch, reader was caught in a drive by in the past, mentioned kidnapping

Request are open <3

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A cloud of smoke streamed from my parted lips, the smell of weed blanketing the car. Tasha and Latisha both scoffed at me after my last statement, their disappointment in me as thick as the smoke filling the car.

"You know he's gonna be right back in yo draws come tomorrow after church, stop playing." My eyes rolled before I could stop them. My brain felt fuzzy and the world seemed peaceful in the dead of night. Passing the blunt to Latisha, she took a deep inhale and held her breath.

'Between the Sheets' blared from the cars radio, adding comfort to my addled brain. Comfort and a slight hint of anger. This was one of our songs, that played while we were under the blanket in his back seat.

The car steamed up that night, similar to the smoke filling the car right now. I had an irrational fear that night that we would shake the car so much that it would roll off the hill we were parked on.

That was before he fucked it all up again.

Latisha was wrong. I was done with his bitch ass this time. This time, I was done playing with him, all his bullshit, his hypnotic eyes, the mountain of lies.

"Girl it's okay, no one blames you for giving into Franklin. Brother's fine." Tasha stuck her tongue out teasingly, which prompted a laugh from me.

Perched on the edge of the back seat with Latisha and Tasha sitting in front, I pulled my sweatshirt over my legs and pressed my head against the window. Latisha gave her a playful smack.

"Oh girl watch out before she do you like how she did Ki and them. Remember how she kicked through that bitch screen door?" Latisha laughed and Tasha cackled. I still remembered how hot it was last summer, when I put my foot through Kira's screen door and ran in swinging. Bitch shoulda closed her front door too but her broke ass couldn't afford air conditioning.

Sure, Franklin and I were technically broken up at the time but what does that matter? Especially after Leon rolled up on Delroy, my 'special friend', and Delroy told me to get to stepping the next time I saw his ass. I know Franklin told Leon to do it too. I don't think I gave Leon any reason to purposely make my life harder.

"Hey now that bitch deserved the ass whopping she got, she could fuck with that nigga all she wanted but how you gonna talk shit about me knowing you can't fight? Let's be serious y'all." It was funny, how she swore that Franklin wanted her over me. After I put my foot through Kira's door and caught her by her tracks, Franklin was at my bedroom window that night.

He was in my desk chair ten minutes later, handing me a box of chocolates that he knew were my favorites. Then he was in my bed giving me some deep, slow strokes that should be illegal. Looking deep into my eyes, pressing soft kisses down my neck and whispering apologies in my ear. Promising me that things would be better this time, that he would be better this time.

He hadn't even looked at her ass since.

Maybe he was over there right now. It had been six hours since he told me it was over, that he couldn't deal with my 'controlling self' and I told him to go ahead and kiss my ass.

Controlling, like he didn't have Peaches following me around all day because he had the slightest suspicion that I might've been considering cheating on him. He wouldn't have that problem if he wasn't ducking me out of nowhere and then when I pressed him he thought it was cute to lash out on me and tell me to get the fuck on.

"Look at her ass. Dick has her stuck." Latisha snickered and I snapped my head towards her. A lazy smile spread across my lips. The smoke stung my red eyes, it was a beautiful summer night and I was planning on getting so high I could shake hands with God, I was with my friends just having a great time. Fuck Franklin, fuck everything.

"If you don't leave me alone." I giggled and stretched back. I could feel it now, and wanted nothing more then to enjoy the feel of the seats under my skin.

It was like I was sinking into a wave of comfort and sleep. And before I knew it, I was floating through my dreams.

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"So y'all are over?" Franklin's eyes were burning into the house phone, his eyes willing it to ring. His long arms stretched over the back of the couch, head facing away from the TV the minute something interesting stopped happening. Leon, as always, had doubts, but as long as he stood ten toes behind Franklin, he didn't really care.

The moonlight casted in on Franklin, his eyes lit by the moon and the TV. Jerome and Louie were cuddled on the couch, while Burst City played from the TV.

"Yeah. She was all over me, I couldn't take it." Finally he turned his head back to the TV and stopped trying to force the phone to ring. A loud noise from the movie, amplifies by Jerome's speakers

"You the only nigga I know who'd be mad about a bitch that fine being all over him." With a chuckle, Leon took a drag of his cigarette. Jerome chuckled and Louie rolled her eyes before she smiled. The way she always smiled when she was with Jerome. The way Franklin's girl ex-girl used to grin uncontrollably when she was snuggled into his side.

"Shit, you fuck with her then." Franklin grumbled bitterly, taking an annoyed sip from his coke. He hated knowing that others could see how fine she was. If it were up to him, she'd wear a potato sack and stay in the house. He'd stay in the house with her too, the two of them together forever. But that just wasn't how things worked.

Why the fuck were they talking about her anyways? Franklin broke up with her, Franklin told her to get lost, Franklin was telling himself that it was over this time. Not just for his sake, but for hers.

Would you believe that she brought out the worst in him? Not his fucked up job, not his dad abandoning him and coming back now that he's grown, no. His ex-girlfriend.

She made him jealous, possessive, down right nasty. Nasty in a way that was different from when he would be pushing into her and could feel her nails dragging down from the nape of his neck. Nasty in a way that was just mean.

Yes, they had their highs. When they were the happiest people on Earth, but when they had their lows they were so low that it might have been in Hell.

"Aye man, I ain't mean that. All I'm saying is you two do this every week." The tension now palpable while they all sat in silence.

That wasn't even true. It wasn't every week, more like every three weeks! Usually Franklin fucked things up, usually by getting annoyed at something (work, her, they hadn't been having sex, he was arguing with his mom or Jerome or Louie or Leon, someone hit on her, she wore something sexy and he knew other niggas would like it just as much, he was hangry) and taking it out on her.

But not this time! This time, they had she started the argument when he came by her house late and she asked him where he'd been. When she came at him with the evidence that he let a stripper toss her ass in his face (which he put a stop to quickly) and refused to tell him who told her, then he got mad. Then she was like 'okay but why did you lie' and obviously he couldn't tell her he went to the club for business purposes because then she'd demand to know why it needed to be a strip club.

According to her, it was just about him lying to her. Which made sense or whatever. He even tried explaining she was the only girl for him and that he only wanted her ass in his face. He even tried cupping her chin and making her look him in the eyes, which usually made her weak in the knees. Franklin just wanted to come over, fuck, have a meal and spend some time with his girl but of course he can't just get what he wants.

So naturally Franklin felt caged and decided to tell her it was over.

"Whatever man, I said it's done."

"Alright then, damn." Easing back into the silence, they both sat and watched the TV. Franklin more so stared, his brain focusing instead her.

Inside he felt shaky, weird. Kinda like how he imagined the addicts he sold too felt without his rock.

She got jealous, but it was kinda sexy how mad she got. How crazy she was over him. Mostly she was only mad because he lied. He could go without lying. He never met to hurt her, just avoid the stress of her knowing he was around strippers and having to answer all her questions. But if he told her earlier that he was going and explained to her that it was for work then he could've avoided all of that all together.

Whatever, it was done now.

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"WHOSE AT MY GOD DAMN DOOR?!" It was 7:00 PM, Saturday night and there was a jumping party that needed me on the dance floor. Yet as I slipped in my earrings, my shorts rubbing against my thighs, someone was repeatedly knocking at my front door. Rather loud too.

As I stormed through my apartment the banging got louder. My apartment was filled with warm colors and the radio I picked up from Jerome's ages ago was humming 'Turn Off The Lights' and it put me in the mood to maybe someone over tonight. Fuck someone who wasn't Franklin.

More banging at the door, it wasn't Latisha or Tasha, they'd just use their keys. A sense of dread hit me suddenly like a car hitting a pedestrian. Being Franklin Saint's girlfriend had put me in two drive byes and one almost kidnapping and now there was someone beating down my door.

My hands found the knife I'd used earlier to rip open a package I'd gotten earlier, small remnants of the cut up box scattered on my carpet right under the coffee table in front of my couch.

Slowly I stepped to the door with my heart thudding around in my chest and the music fading away around me and now I just had to open the door. The knocking continued and suddenly my thoughts cut off by my foot thudding into a box.

A box full of shit. A box filled with Franklin's shit that I intended to drive by his place and fling out the window before never seeing him again. The sweatshirt I stole from him last winter, some cash he left here, changes of clothes, some socks, a bracelet he got me and a bunch of other jewelry wrapped carefully to avoid damage, plus some framed pictures of us. I could only hope he took the same care with my stuff.

The way the box smelt of him made me want to just run back to his arms. It was weird, being without him. But I knew it was for the better, my refusal to go back to him unwavering. As long as I stayed far from him.

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Well damn.

There he was standing in her door way towering over her small form. A bunch of flowers, foxgloves and oleander (my favorites he knew that), held in his hand in contrast to her knife which she now knew she could never bring herself to use on him.

He smelt so good that she had to fight the urge to jump in his arms.

Girl don't do it, send him on his way, her brain told her but her heart, like always, wanted to ditch the party and just spend the night laid up with him. Without any of the bullshit, the way things used to be when they could just be happy together.

Her legs on the other hand wanted to split open on their own. His eyes had that effect on her. He could just control her body with a look. What even was it about this nigga, was she that vulnerable to seduction?

Was it his smell? The rich cologne he bought with his new earnings with the slight smell of cigarettes and the night air. Plus the smell of his mommas house. Maybe.

Was it his strong jaw, the dark eyes that tore right through me like the sky being torn open by a gust of wind.

Fuck how the nigga smells, tell him to go. Do NOT let yourself get hypnotized

"You gon let me inside or keep pointing that at me?" That smirk crossed his lips. Damn. I wondered if I had this affect on him? Did I make him weak? Did he miss the sex so bad he was pathetically trying to get himself off every night thinking of that thing I do with my tongue that he likes? Was he damn near humping his mattress without even realizing it? No matter if he was, as sexy as it was to imagine Franklin touching himself to me. He had to go.

With a kiss of my teeth, I extended my arm to block the door way. This nigga could not pass.

"What you want nigga?"

"You."

"You came here to tell jokes? Take your shit and get the fuck on, I got somewhere to be?" A deep chuckle was his response. He had the nerve to laugh, teeth and all?

You can do this, you can do this, tell him to get to stepping

"Yeah I see you going outside looking real good. I just wanted to talk, see if we could get some closure. I promise I'm not gon take all night." He stepped closer, knowing my body would drive me back. Instead I dug myself into the ground, I stepped back then he'd be in my house.

I had to scan him up and down, find some way to even the playing field. Or make him think his seduction skills weren't working but damn they were working.

Remember how he acted, remember the lies, you wanted out

He smiled and looked like the guy I grew up with. The nice mammas boy who would never try to hurt anyone. I knew better, but he looked so...non threatening.

He was standing there, all washed up wearing a black jacket that he knew I loved him in. He held the flowers up in his right hand and knowing that he probably had a gun on him turned me on some how. The danger of being with Franklin always turned me on. Watching him get aggressive with others and knowing in a few hours he'd be taking it out on me.

The music I had playing wasn't helping me not get weak.

I don't know when he got so close that his chest was pressed to mine. He could hear my breathing and probably my heart beat.

Fuck his closure, send him packing

"Take your shit and go." It slipped out as a whisper, a breathless sound.

His face was right in front of mine and I couldn't do anything to stop myself. I should push him out my way and get to that party. Go find some other nigga who couldn't be as fine as Franklin but he would do for now.

"I'm sorry." He whispered against my lips. I could feel basically every part of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for getting mad. Baby, please. Take me back. I'll do better. I'll stop lying to you. I'm sorry." He was inside now. Pushed through the door, his body against mine and my head spinning.

"What do I have to do to make it up to you baby?"

"I don't believe you. You always do this, you know your not going to change." I whimpered, my eyes shutting. My brain was fogging, an effect Franklin always had on me. But I would be stronger than this. I had too.

"I swear I will." He planted a soft kiss on my neck and I jumped. He was so warm. He tossed the flowers on to the little table I usually throw my keys on when I come in. Both hands ran up and down my arms.

"I promise I'll change. You don't have to pretend you don't want to come back baby, I'll do better this time. Just let me treat you right tonight, I'll start changing right now." More kisses undid me. I needed to tell him off. But the funny thing was, whenever Franklin and I broke up it was like I could only remember the best parts of him.

Not the lashing out, the screaming, the controlling, the random lies, the secrets. Only the gentle moments, where he held my face and gave me soft kisses that chipped away at me. The gifts that would adorn me when we went out, the way he proudly showed me off, the shopping sprees and little weekend trips, even the normal nights we would just sit around with our friends.

Sitting on his lap where I belonged, on whoevers porch as we just talked (and disturbed the peace of the neighborhood) and passed a blunt around and drank. He always made sure I got home safe afterward, my designated driver.

It was weird. Maybe it was feeling him kissing down my neck and him gently caressing me, but the good memories were just rushing to me. Like water smashing into a wall, slowly chipping away from it.

"I'm sorry I got mad at you. I'm sorry for lying, I just didn't want you to worry. I understand that I hurt you by lashing out and I'm gonna work on that. And you know I'm not perfect, just like you not and we both gon have to work on that. But I want to work on us, and I'm going too do whatever it takes. I'm building an empire and I want you to be right there with me when we make it to the top. It wouldn't be right without you." He was staring into my eyes, staring into my soul and heart and making his way back into both.

"Just one more chance. I promise this time I'll be better." I was never gonna hear the end of it this time. Another kiss, another piece of my self control.

"And if I'm not, I'll never bother you again. You have my word." It wasn't like he was all bad all the time. Standing trapped right next to my doorway, the city howling outside I felt the chill of the Summer night air blowing in from my open living room window. Somehow I was able to find it in me to push him off of me, stepping away into the living room putting more distance between us.

"I'm sick of going back and forth with you Franklin. It's constant with you, you lie for no reason and expect me to just forgive you. Why can't you just be straight with me?" He glanced at his feet, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. He looked guilty but I knew no matter how beaten up he looked I knew the next thing out of his mouth would probably be a lie.

"When my dad started coming back around, I couldn't tell my mom the truth. That I was the one who bailed him out that time. And I have to hide shit from people all the time, because I feel like I know better than they do and how news will effect them." He sighed, coming in and placing the flowers on the little side table next to my door. He ran a hand down his face, and I took another cautionary step back.

"You can't decide for me how things will make me feel. It isn't fair. You demand I tell you everything but it just isn't fair." That's bullshit! Yeah, Franklin had it tough growing up. His dad ran out and what not, but that has nothing to do with me!

He stepped closer in two large steps and took my hands in his. He ran his thumbs over my hands and I found myself admiring how big and perfect his hands were holding mine. Franklin really was beautiful and our everything just went together with pure perfection. If only he stopped keeping things from me. My eyes met his and he looked so..sad.

Sympathy overcame me even though I knew his ass didn't deserve it.

"I know. I know and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you. But I'm gonna try and do better this time. Imma give you everything you deserve this time. No more back and forth." Crouching, his forehead touched mine and I saw his eyes closed. He always did this, it was like a hug for him. I closed my eyes too.

"You promise?" It came out a soft whisper, and I could feel relief washing over him in waves.

"Promise."

#black reader #x reader #x black reader #fem reader #franklin saint #snowfall #franklin saint x reader #franklin saint fanfic #multifandom account #pls send requests #my man <3 #toxic relationship #leon simmons

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