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#sniffling. i love my friends s much
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thinking about hestio/ephael and the "if we had a decent tank or healer, i wouldnt even have to talk to him" "does that mean you'll keep hanging out with me? :D" "oh, forget it". the "hey. take your arm off my head. take it off?" i love ephael being annoying to hestio without a care in the world + hestio telling him off + hestio is still always seen by his side + they're still stuck together like a set pair after 10+ years
#hestio/ephael#ill be real guys i keep yapping abt tes/hes bc hestio is just easier to write#but hestio/ephael is the OG like my shipping pilled brain was already putting them tgt in my head on my first read through#whatever dynamic i come up w for teshes is not going to be as funny as ephael actively doing shit that makes hestio tell him off#and then still sticking by his side anyway#and also the way ephael just openly goes 'so you'll spend more time with me? :D'#and also the way that you can tell that Both of them see the other as part of themselves#the whole 'if you keep being formal w us we wont be friends w you anymore' scene#hestio saying WE and speaking for ephael and ephael not objecting to that at all even tho its clearly his first time hearing abt this plan#okay !#damn i shouldve written some ephael/hestio before i started on tes/hes#its the way i had to brainwash myself into 'ok so hestio being hopelessly in love has to be a core part of his characterisation for any#of this to work'#but for ephael/hestio it's literally already right there#sniffles. i wonder how they became friends when their temperaments are so different#its also so cute how theyre so different but they share the same views on a lot of small things and important things too#peas in a pod.... but also light/dark colour scheme... waow....#the thing is that theres absolutely no central story beats that i can think of for a ephael/hestio stoty#theyre just chilling and being funny little guys#and if i bring tesilid in. wtv story im trying to tell would be much more effectively and efficiently written using a monogamous r/s#sadge.....
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urfavleo777 · 4 months
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the only thing i need in my life is soft morning sex with Joost and just being so needy and loving for each other🙏🙏 (praise kink makes my brain go brrr😩)
love your work!❤️
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lazy mornings
joost klein x fem!reader
warnings: face-sitting, language, smut.
your eyes open lazily under the influence of sunlight from outside the window. you mentally scold yourself and your boyfriend for not closing the curtains, but you were too busy with each other last night to even remember.
it’s quiet, save for the soft snores filling your ears. with the way your body is tangled with joost’s, you feel his steady breathing, his face happily buried in the crook of your neck.
this is one of the first times you wake up first. usually joost is the early bird who gets up just before the alarm goes off. the result of opening your eyes first was last night's drinking with friends. joost, well he drank way too much. so it's inevitable that he'll wake up with a huge hangover.
“god morgen, beautiful.” his morning voice is always so deep — raspy. you shut your eyes again, murmuring a greeting back at him as he props himself up a little to kiss you on the cheek. “ouch, my head.”
“do you need medicine, love?”
“no,” he yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. “i need only you.”
you laugh, starting to run your finger along jooste's tinted cheek. he closes his eyes under your touch, enjoying each new movement. a blissful little sigh slips from his lips, as he nuzzles into your palm. you lean forward to smear a kiss against his forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on his skin.
you admire every one of his features, ghosting your hand over his bare skin. he always looks beautiful, of course, but especially when he has his eyes closed. it is mornings like these you most adore — a quiet moment to contrast your loud, busy life. a moment alone with your lover, with your thoughts. when you stop the scratching, he grabs your hand and places a long kiss on it.
he hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “mh, continue.”
he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 
“i don’t want you to fall asleep again.” you laugh quietly, burying your hands in his messy blonde hair.
you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.
joost finally opens his blue eyes and, you take back your words, he is even more beautiful than ever.
being in joost’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.
“what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.
”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. “you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”
a pause. 
then, a chuckle bubbles up from joost’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.
”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. “don’t you have enough after yesterday?”
“never.” you shake your head, smiling deviously.
“sit on my face then.” he shuffles further down on the bed, lifting his head away from the pillow. “go ahead. make yourself comfortable.”
as you obey, you feel a tingling sensation down on your lower belly, butterflies awakening as you place your knees in between his head. “such a pretty look.” you squeal when he tugs your thighs closer, his mouth immediately attaching to your wet pussy. joost growls deeply, feeling the vibrations on your cunt.
your mind goes into a state of bliss, your hands grabbing his hair tightly. “that’s right,” he says between licking your cunt, “fucking grind yourself on me, mhmm…”
“oh, baby,” you whimper, closing your eyes as your hips unconsciously hump his face, “i think i’m gonna cum.”
he replies with a deep “mhm?” and doesn’t stop playing with your engorged, sensitive clit. he laps his tongue on your pussy like an animal, his big hands gripping your thighs so tightly that they might leave handprints.
your legs shake as you climax, your hands reaching behind you to grab ahold of his thighs. he licks all the cum spilled out of you.
but joost doesn’t stop.
your eyes expand when he continues to drink up all your juices, lapping his tongue against your throbbing bud again and again, nonstop. the overstimulation makes you pull away, but he stops you.
“we’re not done,” he grumbles, “not fucking done eating your pussy.”
joost’s mouth and jaw were soaked in your wetness, and that’s clearly what he likes. joost likes it messy, he likes to eat your pussy like it was his last meal. and seeing you on top of him like this — being a good girl to take his tongue, learning how to subdue the overwhelming sensations and instead take pleasure in them, he plans to reward you after this.
“i—i’m cumming,” you barely say in a whisper, mouth agape.
joost chuckles menacingly as you spill all over him once again. he watches in awe how your body trembles, struggling to keep yourself up.
“good girl,” he kisses your inner thigh. “you’re more valuable than all the medicines in the world.”
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natsaffection · 2 months
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LITERALLY COMING HERE BECAUSE I SOMEHOW COOKED UP AN IDEA?????
Small request that Nat is bestfriends with y/n’s dad. Like a litttleee age gap, like y/n is 21 and Nat is older in her 30’s or early 40’s (practically leaving it up to you) but readers dad is still protective and had to leave the house due to a relative getting sick. Asking Nat to come watch over y/n, yet the two of them dance around each other with harmless teasing and flirting but they both know that they’re attracted to each other but fear that it isn’t right. Gives Nat a PERFECT opportunity to love y/n like she always wanted to.
could be g!p Nat if you want, leaving that up to you too but like I’ve BEEN feasting on your smut recently
Never say Never. | N.R
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Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, Age Gap! (N=41 | r= 21), G!P Nat, sniffling on Pantys, fingering, Loss of virginity, unprotected Sex, soft to rough sex, hot talking trough, begging and overstimulation
Word count: 6,8k
A/n: Well..A small request quickly became Six thousand words. I added another request, so it's actually two..Hope you two Anons dont mind! But otherwise I wouldn't follow, there are eight more waiting for me.🫶🏼 🧎🏻‍♀️
You sat on the couch, half-heartedly listening to the conversation while scrolling through your phone, pretending not to notice your father’s growing tension. He had been on edge since the call from his sister, who lived a few hours away. A sudden illness had thrown the family into turmoil, and now he was preparing to leave on short notice.
"I know, I know.." he said into the phone, his voice tinged with worry. "But I can’t just leave her here alone." You playfully rolled your eyes. "Dad, I’m 21. I think I can manage a few days on my own."
Your father shot you a look that was half serious, half affectionate. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I’d feel better if someone was here to keep an eye on you. You know how much I worry."
Before you could continue arguing, he returned to his call, his voice softening as he spoke. "Natasha, are you sure? It’s very last-minute."
Your ears perked up at the mention of Natasha’s name. She had been your father’s best friend for years. They met in the military and had remained close ever since. You had always admired Natasha’s strength and confidence, not to mention her striking looks. She was older, yes, but that only made her more appealing in your eyes. Not that you would ever admit that out loud, especially not to her.
But the thought of Natasha staying with you while your father was away sent a wave of excitement through you, one you quickly tried to suppress. Natasha was practically like family, and besides, it was impossible that someone like her could ever see you as more than her best friend’s daughter.
"Yeah, she’s home," your father said now. "if you could come over, that would be great. I’d feel a lot better if you were here." Your heart skipped a beat. Tonight. Natasha was coming over tonight. Oh god..
After a few more words, your father ended the call and turned to you with a small smile. "Natasha’s on her way. She’ll be here soon, and I’ll head out once she arrives." You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "That’s fine, Dad. But honestly, you didn’t have to worry so much." Your father laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked by. "I can’t help it. It’s my job."
As the minutes passed, you grew increasingly restless. You weren’t exactly sure why the thought of Natasha coming over made you so nervous. You’d spent time with her before, but this time was different, being alone with her in the house, especially now that you were old enough to understand the fluttering feelings that her presence stirred in you.
When the doorbell finally rang, your pulse quickened. Your father opened the door and greeted Natasha warmly as she stepped inside. You stayed in the background, taking her in. Natasha was dressed casually, but even in a simple leather jacket, she exuded confidence and grace, her green eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place.
"Hey." Natasha greeted you in her soft voice, smiling. There was something in the way she looked at you that made your stomach do a little flip. But you quickly pushed it aside, reminding yourself that Natasha was just being friendly.
"Hi." you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Thanks for coming over."
"No problem." Natasha said, her gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary before she turned to your father. "I’ve got everything under control here. You can go take care of your sister." Your father nodded, relieved. "Thanks, Nat. I owe you one."
After a few more words of reassurance, your father grabbed his bags and headed out, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You stood uncertainly in the living room, not sure what to say now that it was just the two of you.
Natasha was the first to break the silence. "So, what’s the plan for tonight?" she began, her tone light but with a teasing undertone. "Are we going to throw a wild party, or are you more of a Netflix and chill type?"
You laughed, some of the tension easing. "Definitely Netflix and chill. But you get to pick the movie." Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Dangerous move, letting me choose. I have very specific tastes."
There it was again..that teasing, almost flirtatious tone that made your heart beat faster. You couldn’t tell if Natasha was just playing with you or if there was more behind those words. But either way, you found yourself firing back "I can handle it." you said with a grin. "Bring it on."
As you both settled on the couch, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Natasha. You knew you shouldn’t let your thoughts wander, but it was hard not to when she was sitting so close, her body warm and inviting. And it didn’t help that she occasionally, whether accidentally or on purpose, brushed against you, sending a shiver down your spine each time.
As the movie started, you tried to focus on the screen, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the woman next to you. Natasha had, of course, chosen an action film, but you found it hard to follow the plot when every little movement Natasha made seemed amplified in the quiet room.
Natasha, on the other hand, was having similar difficulties. She could feel your presence beside her, so close that your legs almost touched. Occasionally, you would shift, briefly brushing against her, and Natasha had to fight to keep her attention on the movie. She knew she shouldn’t think about you this way, not when she was supposed to be the responsible adult here, but it was difficult to push those thoughts away and this was dangerous territory, Natasha knew that.
"So, is this your favorite type of movie?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Your tone was half teasing, but there was also a hint of genuine curiosity in your voice. Natasha turned to you, a slight smile playing on her lips. "What can I say? I like things that get the adrenaline pumping."
You raised an eyebrow, catching the double meaning in Natasha’s words. "Is that so?" you replied, your tone equally playful. "I would have pegged you as more of a rom-com type."
Natasha laughed, shaking her head. "Only if they’re really good or really bad. I’m talking cheesy, predictable plots, over the top romance stuff that makes you cringe and laugh at the same time." You smiled, liking the idea that Natasha secretly enjoyed something so cheesy. "I’ll keep that in mind for next time."
"Next time?" Natasha’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Are you already planning another movie night?"
"Maybe.." you said, leaning back into the couch, feeling a bit bolder now. "If you don’t mind hanging out with someone my age.." You want to risk it.
Natasha’s smile faltered briefly, the reminder of your age difference bringing the nagging doubts back to the forefront of her mind. She knew it was hard to ignore, but the reality of the situation was difficult to overlook. She was older, more experienced, and you were still so young..young enough to be her friend’s daughter.
"I don't mind," Natasha said after a moment, her voice now softer and more serious. Your heart skipped a beat at Natasha's words. You had thought the same, worried that Natasha might only see you as a child. But the fact that Natasha acknowledged it and was still sitting here with you gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren't the only one with these feelings.
The room fell into a comfortable silence, but the air between you was still charged with unspoken words. You played with the thoughts again and couldn't shake the fear that it was wrong, that Natasha would never see you as anything more than the daughter of her best friend. The age difference was not just a number, it seemed like an almost insurmountable barrier.
Natasha, on the other hand, had similar thoughts. She had noticed how you moved closer, the subtle shifts in your body language, and it was driving her crazy. Part of her wanted to reach out, pull you into her arms, and see where the night would take you. But the other part? The part that knew better held her back. She couldn't simply ignore the fact that you were young, that you had your whole life ahead of you, and that a relationship with someone like her could complicate things in ways neither you nor she was prepared for.
"So," Natasha finally said, "if you don't like action movies, what do you like?" You hesitated, your mind racing with a thousand different answers, most of which had to remain unspoken. Eventually, you settled on a safe answer, though your tone was still playful. "I guess I like movies that have a bit of everything. action, romance, maybe a little mystery. Something that keeps you on your toes." Natasha nodded, her gaze intense as she looked at you. "Sounds like you enjoy a good challenge."
"I do." you replied, holding her gaze. "But I also like it when things surprise me..you know, when something happens that you don't see coming."
There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, wondering if there was a deeper meaning behind them. Aaand that was the moment you realized that the conversation was moving beyond mere fun and flirting. But now, as Natasha sat quietly, her expression unreadable, you felt a wave of doubt wash over you.
Had you gone too far? Was Natasha uncomfortable? The last thing you wanted was for things to get awkward between the two of you, especially when you weren't even sure if Natasha felt the same way you did. The silence dragged on, and your confidence began to waver. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and embarrassment started to creep in. Maybe Natasha was just trying to think of a way to gently turn you down, to remind you that the age difference was something that shouldn't, or couldn't happen.
Needing to escape the tension you had unintentionally created, you cleared your throat and forced a small smile. "I, um..I think I'll go take a shower." You stood up, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice the slight trembling in your hands as you picked up your phone from the table.
"Sure." Natasha said, her voice calm, but there was an undertone you couldn't quite place. "I'll be here." You nodded, a quick, tense smile on your lips before you turned and headed to the bathroom. As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You were probably overthinking the situation.
But still, the doubt lingered as you undressed and stepped under the shower, letting the warm water flow over your body. You hoped the shower would help clear your mind, push aside the awkward tension you felt, and maybe even help you figure out what to do next. But instead, your thoughts kept circling back to Natasha, her eyes, the way she had looked at you so intensely, the softness in her voice when she mentioned the age difference..
You wanted to believe that there was something there, that Natasha might not be as indifferent as you had feared. But every time you thought about making a move, that fear returned, reminding you that Natasha was older, wiser, and probably only saw you as her friend's daughter. It was complicated, and the last thing you wanted was to make things weird between the two of you.
Natasha was watching as you retreated to the bathroom, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She had seen how your teasing had backfired on you, the sudden insecurity that had flashed across your face. It was clear that you were second guessing yourself, thinking you might have crossed a line. But Natasha knew better. She had seen the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your voice had faltered when you excused yourself to take a shower. You were nervous, but not in a bad way. You were flustered, and Natasha found herself relishing in that small victory.
After you left the room, Natasha stood up. She began walking through the house, taking in the familiar surroundings. It had been a while since she had been here, and while much of the house remained unchanged, there were small differences like new photos on the walls or different decorations.
As she wandered, her steps led her to the door of your bedroom. It was slightly ajar, and Natasha hesitated for only a moment before pushing it open. The room was warm, the faint scent of your perfume still lingering in the air. Natasha's eyes were instantly drawn to the bed, where a small pile of clothing lay, presumably the ones you had just taken off. Among them, a delicate pair of underwear caught Natasha's attention, and she felt a surge of heat course through her body as she picked up the delicate lingerie. She knew she shouldn't be here, that her thoughts were veering into dangerous territory, but she couldn't resist the pull. Her fingers ran over the soft fabric, and a quiet shiver ran through her body. The familiar scent of you clinging to the clothing sent her senses into overdrive. Natasha closed her eyes briefly, unable to completely ignore the intensity of the moment.
Her breathing became heavier as she brought the underwear closer to her face, inhaling the scent. An internal battle raged within her, between the rational part of her that told her she needed to stop and the unbridled desire that urged her to continue. Natasha felt her self control beginning to crumble, her thoughts wandering to you, standing naked and vulnerable just a room away.
While she was lost in these forbidden fantasies, Natasha didn't notice that you had finished your shower. The world around her blurred, and all she could sense was the scent, the warmth, and the thought of you. Her hand slipped under the waistband of her jeans, and she began to touch herself, lost in the thought of you being with her. As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard the bathroom door open. She hadn’t noticed your quiet steps until it was too late.
"Natasha?"
Your voice pulled Natasha out of her reverie, and she turned sharply, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw you standing there, wrapped only in a towel, your wet hair clinging to your shoulders. For a moment, both of you froze, the air between you thick with tension and something far more primal.
Your eyes drifted to the underwear in Natasha's hand, then back to her face, a mix of shock and confusion on your expression. "What are you doing?"
Natasha felt a brief surge of fear, she hadn’t meant to be caught, hadn’t wanted you to see her like this. But as she looked into your wide eyes, a new resolve settled over her. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to let it slip by.
She dropped the underwear back onto the bed and slowly walked toward you, her movements deliberate, almost predatory. Instinctively, you took a step back, but you were already too close to the wall, and Natasha knew she had you exactly where she wanted. "Y/n," Natasha said softly, her voice low and commanding, "don’t be afraid."
"I..I’m not afraid.." you stammered, though the slight tremor in your body betrayed your nervousness. Your back touched the wall, and you found yourself cornered between it and Natasha’s imposing figure.
Natasha placed her hands on either side of your head, leaning in close, her breath warm against your cheek. "You don’t have to pretend, you know." she murmured, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. "I can see that you’re nervous."
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing as Natasha's words sank in. You had been so sure that this was just a game, a bit of harmless flirting that would never go anywhere. But now, with Natasha so close, the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore. "I saw how you looked at me tonight." Natasha continued, her voice rough with intent. "Did you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t feel the same way?"
You swallowed hard, your mouth dry as you struggled to find your voice. "I..I didn’t know if you..if you wanted this too.."
Natasha’s eyes darkened, her gaze intensifying as she leaned in even closer, her lips almost brushing against yours. "I want you, but I need to hear it from you. Tell me you want this too."
Your head was spinning, your body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. You had never imagined Natasha would be so bold, so direct. But the truth was, you had wanted this, wanted her..for longer than you cared to admit.
"I..I want this." you finally whispered, your voice shaking but filled with determination. "I want you, Natasha."
A slow, predatory smile spread across Natasha's lips at your confession, and she pressed her body against yours, feeling the warmth of your skin through the towel. "Good girl." she whispered, her voice dripping with approval.
Natasha didn’t waste another second. She captured your lips in a passionate kiss, one that held all the pent-up desire and frustration she had been holding back for so long. You responded eagerly, your hands clutching at Natasha’s, pulling her closer as if you were afraid she might disappear if you let go.
The kiss deepened, and Natasha's hands roamed over your body, feeling you shiver under her touch. She relished the power she had over you, enjoyed making you admit your desires, and now she would make sure you understood exactly what it meant to be wanted by her.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your eyes locking in a silent understanding of what was about to happen. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this." Natasha whispered, her hand sliding down your side, teasing the edge of your towel. "But now that I have you, I won’t be able to hold back."
You shuddered at her words, your eyes widening with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You knew that this night would change everything, but as you looked into Natasha’s eyes, you realized that you didn’t care. This was what you wanted, what you both wanted.
You could barely breathe as Natasha’s lips found yours again, the sensation overwhelming your senses. It was like you were floating, caught between reality and a dream, unable to fully grasp that this was really happening. You had fantasized about Natasha for so long, but you had never believed that your desires would be returned, that Natasha would want you just as much, if not more.
Natasha, on the other hand, was fully aware of every moment, every breath, every tremble that ran through your body. She relished how you shivered under her touch, the soft sighs that escaped your lips as her hands glided over your skin. It had been so long since Natasha had allowed herself to feel this way since she had allowed herself to truly desire someone, and now, with you in her hands, she wanted to take her time. She wanted to savor every moment, to show you how much you were cherished.
Natasha’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she loosened the towel from your body and let it gently fall to the floor. You gasped as the cool air touched your bare skin, but Natasha quickly warmed you again with soft, teasing caresses, her fingers tracing along your sides, over your hips, and across your stomach. Natasha could feel the goosebumps under her fingertips, and it made her smile against your lips, knowing she was the cause of such a reaction.
You couldn’t believe this was really happening, that Natasha was touching you, kissing you, making you feel things you had only ever dreamed of. Natasha sensed your hesitation, your disbelief that this was real. She wanted to push you further, to make you fully embrace the moment, to understand how deep her desire for you was. She wanted to hear it from your own lips, what you wanted, what you needed.
Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her hand still resting on your hip. “You’re trembling.” Natasha murmured, her voice low and laced with a dangerous sweetness. “Are you scared? Or is it something else?”
Your breath hitched, your heart racing as you gazed into Natasha’s intense green eyes. You were trembling, but not out of fear, no, this was something entirely different. Something that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to dive into the unknown.
“I’m not scared..” you whispered, your voice shaking but resolute. “Good." Natasha whispered back, her lips brushing against your ear. “Good, because I don’t want you to be afraid. I want you to tell me what you want. I need to hear it from you.”
Your mind was a whirlwind of desire and need, but you struggled to find the right words. It was so much, too much, and yet not enough. “I want you, Natasha. I need you..” you finally managed, your voice trembling with longing.
A triumphant smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, and her hand slid downward to touch you between your thighs. You gasped, your hips instinctively moving toward her touch, your body craving more.
“I know you want it.” Natasha purred, her fingers gently teasing your most sensitive spot with slow, deliberate movements. “But that’s not what I asked. I want you to tell me what you want me to do to you. Tell me, Y/n. Tell me exactly what you need.”
Your face flushed with heat, the combination of embarrassment and arousal almost unbearable. But the way Natasha looked at you, the way she touched you, made it impossible to hold back. You wanted this. Wanted Natasha and if that meant giving yourself to her completely, then you would.
“I want you to..to touch me.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Please, Natasha..touch me more.” Natasha’s smile deepened, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as she leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing against yours. “Good girl.” she whispered, her voice dripping with approval. “I’m going to touch you. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”
With those words, Natasha moved her hand more purposefully, her fingers sliding between your folds, finding the wetness that made your heart race. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your body responding to every movement, every touch, as if Natasha’s hands were made of pure electricity.
Natasha’s pace was slow, agonizingly slow, her fingers exploring every inch of your body with deliberate care. She wanted to take her time, to push your pleasure to the very edge until you were begging for more. She wanted you to feel completely and utterly at her mercy.
“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Natasha whispered, her breath warm against your neck as she kissed along your collarbones. “Do you like it when I touch you like this?”
“Y-Yes..” you gasped, your hands clutching at Natasha’s shoulders, desperately searching for something to hold onto. “It feels so good..please, don’t stop..”
Natasha chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not going to stop, Detka. Not until I make you feel everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” She increased the pressure, her fingers moving now with more determination, teasing and stroking in a way that made your legs tremble. Your body responded instinctively, your hips rocking in time with Natasha’s movements, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
Natasha watched you with a mix of adoration and lust, enjoying the power she had over you, the way she could bring you to the brink with just a few well-placed touches. She could see that you were close, your body tensing, your breath quickening, but Natasha wasn’t done with you yet. She wanted to push you further, to make you beg for release.
“Are you close?” Natasha whispered, her voice dark and commanding. “Do you want to come for me?” You could barely think, your mind a haze of overwhelming pleasure. “Yes!” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Please, Natasha…let me come..!”
Natasha’s smile was sinful as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “Not yet.. You’ll come when I say so, okay?”
You whimpered, your body trembling with the effort of holding back, teetering on the edge of climax without being able to let go. But Natasha didn’t relent, her fingers continuing their precise, skilled movements, keeping you right on the brink of ecstasy.
“Please, Natasha!” you pleaded, your voice quivering with desperation. “Please..I can’t..I need.."
“Shh.." Natasha whispered, her voice softening just a little. “I know, baby. I know what you need. But I want you to say it again. Tell me exactly what you want.”
Your mind was spinning, the need almost unbearable. You were completely at Natasha’s mercy, and that realization only made your desire burn hotter. “I want you to let me come, Natasha, please, please!”
Natasha’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and she finally gave you what you had been begging for, her fingers moving faster, more decisively, pushing you right over the edge. “That’s it, Y/n.” Natasha murmured, her voice thick with desire. “Come for me. Now.”
With Natasha’s permission, you finally let go, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, more intense than anything you had ever felt before. You cried out, your mind going completely blank as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. She held you tightly, her fingers still moving, drawing every last bit of pleasure from your trembling body. She whispered soft, soothing words in your ear, her hand gently stroking your back as you came down from your high.
You slumped against the wall, your body exhausted, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could hardly believe what had just happened, how intense it had been, how Natasha had made you feel things you had never imagined. You thought it was over, that this was the end, like in the movies..But then Natasha’s voice cut through the haze, deep and commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat as you realized that Natasha was still there, still holding you, still touching you. “But..” you stammered, your voice weak. “I thought..”
“You thought that was it?” Natasha’s smile was dark, almost devilish. “Oh no, Detka. I haven’t come yet. And I’m not going to stop until I make you feel everything again.” Your eyes widened, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. You could feel Natasha’s fingers beginning to move again, this time with more urgency, more determination. The realization that Natasha wasn’t done with you yet, that this was just the beginning, sent a fresh wave of arousal through your already sensitive body.
Natasha watched your reaction closely, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She wanted to push you further, to see how much you could take, how many times she could make you break in her arms. Natasha’s other hand slid up to your neck, applying just the slightest pressure as she tilted your head back so that you could look into her eyes.
"This," Natasha said softly, her voice a whisper as she guided your hand between you. Your eyes widened as you felt it. Hard, throbbing, and undeniably real. Natasha was already rock hard, her erection pressing demandingly against her jeans, and the realization hit you like a wave.
You had fantasized about Natasha, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality. Natasha didn’t just want to touch you.. no she wanted to take you in a way you had never experienced before.
Your eyes flickered back to Natasha's face, filled with a mix of awe and nervous anticipation. "I..I've never.." you began, but your words faltered. Natasha's expression softened, and she raised her hand to gently cup your face. "I’ll be gentle. I want you to feel every moment of this. If you want to stop at any point, just tell me."
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You had always imagined what this moment might be like, but now that it was here, it was both terrifying and thrilling. The way Natasha looked at you, the way she touched you, made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered. And you wanted that, you wanted Natasha to be the one to show you how it could be.
She kissed you gently, tenderly, as she began to unbutton her jeans, her hands steady despite the electric tension that vibrated through her body. You watched as she pushed her jeans and boxers just far enough down to release her erection. Your eyes widened at the sight. "It's okay, Y/n." Natasha whispered reassuringly, her voice gentle as she guided your hand to her, letting you feel her warmth and weight. "We’ll take it slow."
Your fingers closed around Natasha's shaft, the reality of the feeling grounding you in the moment. You marveled at how it felt, how Natasha’s breath hitched slightly as you touched her. It was real, tangible, and you could feel your own arousal rising even more at the thought of what was about to happen.
Natasha watched you, making sure you were comfortable before moving forward. She could see the awe in your eyes, how your breathing quickened, and it only fueled Natasha’s desire further. Gently, she lifted your leg, hooking it around her hip as she positioned herself at your entrance. "Just breathe, baby." Natasha whispered, her voice full of encouragement as she pressed her forehead against yours. "I’ve got you."
You nodded, your heart racing as you felt the pressure of Natasha’s erection at your entrance. Natasha moved slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust as she began to enter you. You gasped, your fingers digging into Natasha’s shoulders as you felt the pressure, the stretch, the fullness as Natasha entered you for the first time. "It’s okay." Natasha repeated, her voice thick with emotion as she kissed your neck, her hands gently guiding your hips to lead you carefully. "You’re doing so well. Just be a good girl and let me in."
Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as Natasha continued to slide into you, your body adjusting to the new sensation. It was intense, almost overwhelming, but there was also something incredibly intimate about it..something that made you feel more connected to Natasha than you had ever felt with anyone before.
When Natasha was fully inside you, she paused, giving you a moment to breathe, to adjust, to feel how perfectly you fit together. "You’re so tight.." Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of awe and desire. "So perfect." You could hardly believe this was real, that Natasha was inside you, filling you, making you feel things you had never imagined.
Natasha noticed the change, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she felt your body begin to respond. "That’s it." Natasha murmured, her voice dark with satisfaction. "You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?"
Her hands gripped your hips tightly as she began to move, slowly at first, savoring every moment of how your body reacted to each of her thrusts. Your eyes closed, your head fell back against the wall as the pleasure began to build in you again, this time even more intense. Natasha’s movements were slow, deliberate, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through your body, lifting you higher and higher.
"Look at me." Natasha whispered, "I want to see you, Y/n. I want to watch you break." Your eyes snapped open, meeting Natasha’s gaze. The intensity in her eyes, the way she looked at you with such passion and adoration, took your breath away. You had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but at the same time, so cherished. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.
Natasha’s pace increased slightly, her thrusts becoming more demanding, insistent. She could feel your body trembling beneath her, your breath coming in ragged gasps and it only drove Natasha’s desire further. "Tell me how it feels." Natasha whispered, her lips brushing your ear as she thrust deeper. "I want to hear it from you."
"It f-feels..incredible.." you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion. "I never..I never thought it could feel like t-this.."
Natasha smiled, her heart swelling with pride and affection. "That’s my girl " she murmured, her voice full of appreciation. "I’m going to make you feel even better.."
You moaned as Natasha’s thrusts became more powerful, more focused, each one bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building in you again, more intense than before, and you knew you were close, so incredibly close.
Natasha felt it too, and she didn’t let up, her hips driving forward with precision, her grip on your hips tightening as she pushed you both higher. "That’s it, Y/n.." Natasha growled, "Come for me. I want to feel you come around my cock."
Your whole body tensed, the pleasure reaching a peak as Natasha’s words pushed you over the edge. With one last, desperate cry, you came, your body clenching around Natasha’s cock, the intensity of the orgasm making you see stars.
But Natasha wasn’t finished yet. She kept moving, giving you no time to recover, driving you through the aftershocks straight into another wave of pleasure. "Oh, no." Natasha whispered, her voice dark and teasing as she leaned in to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "I’m not done with you yet, baby. You’re going to come for me again."
You whimpered, your body trembling under the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. You had never experienced anything like this, had never thought your body could take so much, could feel so much pleasure. But Natasha gave you no choice, and the thought of being pushed even further sent a thrill of excitement through you.
Natasha’s thrusts became more faster, more relentless as she chased her own climax, but she never lost focus on you, never stopped driving you closer and closer to the edge. She wanted to feel you break beneath her, wanted to push you to another peak, to show you how much you were truly capable of feeling.
"N-Natasha..please..." you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. "I can’t...it’s too much.."
"You can." Natasha whispered, "You can take it. You’re going to come for me again, okay? I want you to milk my cock..f-fuck.."
Natasha could feel her own control slipping, the tight heat of your body driving her closer and closer to the edge. "Look at me." Natasha ordered, her voice sharp as she slowed her thrusts just enough to draw out the moment. "I want to see your face when you come for me one last time."
You forced your eyes open, meeting Natasha’s intense gaze. The intensity in her eyes was almost too much to bear, but you couldn’t look away. You were lost in the storm of Natasha’s desire, your body trembling uncontrollably as you balanced on the edge of another climax. Your whimper sent a shock of satisfaction through Natasha, and she finally let herself go. Her thrusts became faster, more erratic, as she chased her own release, her grip on your hips tightening as she drove you both to the brink.
"I’m going to fill you up.." Natasha growled, her voice rough with impending relief. You could only moan in response, your body so overstimulated that you didn’t think you could survive another orgasm. But Natasha gave you no choice. With one final, brutal thrust, Natasha buried herself deep inside you and let out a deep, guttural groan as she came, her cock pulsing as she filled you with her release.
The sensation of Natasha coming inside you, combined with the intensity of her voice, sent you into another orgasm, your whole body convulsing under the force of it. You screamed Natasha’s name, your voice hoarse and broken as you were completely consumed by pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably.
Natasha held you tightly, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax. She continued to move slowly, gently rocking her hips to prolong the sensation, even as your body finally began to relax, your muscles still twitching from the aftershocks of such intense pleasure.
When it was finally over, Natasha leaned forward and kissed you gently, her lips tender against your trembling ones. “God, you were wonderful..” Natasha murmured, her voice softening as she stroked your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
You could barely respond, your body completely exhausted, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction in your heart.
Natasha carefully withdrew from you, making sure you were comfortable as she released you from the wall. She gently guided you to the bed, your legs feeling weak as you sank onto the soft sheets. You were utterly spent, your body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of the intense experience.
Natasha lay down beside you, gently pulling you into her arms and holding you tightly against her. Your forehead rested on her chest, and you could hear the steady beat of her heart, giving you a sense of safety and comfort.
“Rest, okay?” Natasha whispered softly, her fingers soothingly running through your hair. “I’m here with you.” You nodded weakly, unable to put into words the flood of emotions rising within you. Your body was utterly exhausted, but it was a pleasant fatigue, a deep satisfaction spreading through you.
As you relaxed in Natasha’s arms, you began to slowly drift into sleep, secure in the knowledge that you were safe with her. Natasha continued to hold you close, her touch tender and comforting. She pressed gentle kisses to your forehead as your breathing slowly calmed, and you let yourself sink deeper into the comforting warmth of her embrace.
“I’m so glad you trusted me..” Natasha whispered quietly, almost more to herself than to you, her voice full of affection. “I’ll always take care of you, Y/n.”
With those words, you finally allowed yourself to fully surrender to sleep, wrapped in the secure feeling that you would always be protected and loved in Natasha’s arms. As you fell asleep, the last thing you felt was the gentle embrace and the steady, reassuring beat of her heart beneath your ear. A moment of peace and security that you would keep in your heart forever.
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ashwhowrites · 7 days
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Hi! I'm so happy that you're inbox is open! I love your fics 💜
I have a few ideas for request but I don't want to overwhelm your inbox 😅
I thought about Eddie x fem reader where reader is not into PDA and all of Eddie's friends are telling him that reader is not into him and he should let her go. They don't believe Eddie saying the reader is crazy about him like he is about her.
She cares about him, help him with homework and even put his socks on when he's napping during movie night. Eddie's friends think that he sees her through rose colored glasses.
But one time Gareth or someone else saw how she threatened cheerleader that was telling shit about Eddie.
Or other time Gareth came to trailer park because Eddie had a cold and he was shocked when he saw reader taking care of Eddie.
Thank you for you time!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
No PDA
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Eddie found himself in a new relationship with Y/N, she was a cheerleader and popular. Their relationship was a shock to everyone and Eddie's friends were skeptical.
Gareth was suspicious from the start. To him, it was weird that Eddie and Y/N didn't act like a couple. They have been together for a few months and Gareth had never seen them do anything more than talking. He didn't think he had ever seen them hold hands or kiss, they looked like friends.
He had talked to Eddie about it many times but Eddie always said that Y/N was crazy about him and there was nothing to be worried about. Gareth wasn't sure if he could believe that without seeing it with his own eyes.
Eddie knew Y/N loved him. It was obvious in the way she took care of him. She wasn't much for public display of affection and Eddie was cool with that. He felt loved by her in different ways. She stayed late to help him with homework, bought his favorite snacks at the store, and always let him pick the movie for date night.
~~~
Gareth was walking down the hallway when he heard the sound of arguing. He looked around the corner and saw Y/N and another cheerleader getting into each other's faces.
"Keep his name out of your mouth. I'm not going to let you talk shit about my boyfriend. If I hear you say anything about him again, I'll get your ass kicked off the team."
Gareth watched as the other stomped and walked away, Y/N looked proud of herself as she walked in the other direction.
Well, Gareth had to give her a point there.
~~~
Eddie came down with a bad cold so he couldn't go to school. Gareth, as his best friend, collected all his homework and planned to drop it off. He stopped at the store for medicine and soup, just in case Wayne was too busy to grab some.
Gareth was confused when he saw another car parked in front of the trailer. He carried the bag of groceries and endless homework. He knocked on the door and called out for Eddie.
But Eddie didn't answer the door, it was Y/N.
"Hey Gareth, come on in," she said, a polite smile on her face
"What are you doing here?" Gareth asked, setting down the groceries on the table
"Taking care of Eddie," she laughed, "Homework and food?" she asked as she began to take out the food from the bags
"Uh yeah, I wasn't sure if Wayne would be able to take care of him," Gareth explained
"Yeah, he's at work, thank you for grabbing all of this. He's in his bedroom if you want to see him."
Gareth nodded, watching as she began to make soup on the stove. He walked towards to Eddie's bedroom, shocked to see how clean it was.
"I don't think I've ever seen your room so clean," Gareth said in awe as he walked in
Eddie tried to laugh but it came out as a harsh cough, "Yeah, Y/N cleaned while I slept."
"I brought you your homework and some soup," Gareth said as he put the books on Eddie's bed
"Thanks, man," Eddie said through sniffles.
"So how long has Y/N been here?" Gareth asked, standing near the door so he didn't catch anything.
"All day, once I told her I was sick she drove over here and has been taking care of me all day. Even put my socks in the dryer so they can be warm!" Eddie gushed, wiggling his toes in his warm socks.
"So she uh, really takes care of you, huh?" Gareth asked
"I told you, she cares about me and loves me. She prefers to do it in private," Eddie said, "and other things in private," he added as he wiggled his eyebrows
"Eddie, don't be a perv," Y/N said as she walked through the door with a bowl of hot soup
Eddie rolled his eyes but happily took the bowl of soup. He sat up as she set the bowl in his hands.
Gareth watched as Eddie ate his soup, and Y/N pushed back his hair to feel his forehead.
Maybe he should have believed Eddie in the first place
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123
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gojoshooter · 2 months
Note
hewoo! sorry for bothering u, but I'm just really into sukuita and humm... maybe u could write something about how sukuna loves to have his little brat yuuji sitting on his lap? just if u want of course! god I love those two so much😭💕
Suku-nii's Best Boy
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an. with my returning sukuita fever i present you this lil hybrid fic ;) hope you like it @wukxon
Tiger!Cub Yuji in his big brother Tiger!Hybrid Suku-nii ’s lap, all sobby and snotty as he complains of his ongoing teething process.
-
The little Tiger!Cub Yuji had been found by his aniki on the kitchen floor, whines spilling out his tiny babbling mouth out of discomfort when Sukuna comes to check up on him.
Big brother Sukuna wasn't the type to hoist a little cub up on his hip and coo to lul him quite, instead just propping him up on his feet by his underarms so his little yuji stands in front of him instead. The action reduces the cub's sobbing into sniffling, as he peeps up at Suku-nii with big watery golden-brown eyes.
Sukuna bends his knees to come closer to his tiny brother's height, inspecting while pulling his cheek “Huh, what is it little snot?”
“...hurts” Yuji pouts, water brimming the brink of his doey eyes again when he projects baby arms towards his big brother, making grabby hands. “Chuku-nii... uwp” his pout too big for a more coherent sound.
Now—Tiger!Hybrid Sukuna knows he's a tough man, but he would rather die than not scoop his little brother Yuji who pleads his comfort so purely, which he does a moment and a sigh later. Sukuna saunters to the couch, bothered Yuji clutched to his side.
“Where does it hurt,” the little cub now seated in his lap, Sukuna wipes the tear streams off his little brother's fluffy-soft fat cheeks “tell me brat?” his tone softer than his words.
“Aa!!” Yuji opens his tiny mouth, an acusatory finger pointed towards his small buccal cavity. The bigger feline hums, taking the smaller one's face in his palms—thumbs pushing on the cheeks to pry open his mouth wider. Little pointy canines could be seen halfway out into joining the cub's set of teeth.
Sukuna frowns, gently pressing on one of the cub's canines causing Yuji to flinch away with an angry whine. The elder hums again in confirmation, cupping Yuji's sulky face and dragging it closer. He's teething—Sukuna concludes. The elder bounces his seated tiny body on his knees for distraction.
He brings a finger near the younger's mouth, pushing it slowly on the cub's lips for him to take. “We will get some toys for your sore jaw, 'dori.” he grins watching his troubled little Yuji who depends on him so much.
Tiger!Cub Yuji nibbles on his Aniki's finger, leaving small tents of his canines and droll on the skin. His tiny palm forgetting to loosen the grip to his Suku-nii's shirt.
Sukuna might have a hunch or so for why his little brother has gotten more attached to him rather than their any other relative or friend—who comprehensibly wanted Yuji's attention more than him,, but he never really understood.
Whatever the case... he has already grown affectionate to the stinkingly adorable and clingy brat in his lap for life is what he knows.
masterlist! sukuita hcs!
an. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AAAAA😭 hope y'all like it, thank you for reading, likes & rbs are appreciated <333
tags. @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @dianagracesworld @pupkashi
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daydreamerwoah · 9 days
Text
Love Through It All Pt. 3
tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, hurt, angst, anger, crying, sadness, therapy/counseling
I don't condone cheating at all. But I know every marriage and even relationship is different. What one person might do in a situation, another might not do it..... Every time I write something, I'm always writing with the thought of the main goal being OC or in this case 'Y/N' ending up with the man I'm writing about (in this case it's Ghost). So this is going to be angst... but Y/n & Ghost are going to stay together at the end of this little story....
If this upsets you, pisses you off, or you hate it... I'm sorry :( Sort of my first time writing angst like this, so send me the feedback plsssss.
ALSO - I'm not a counselor or therapist, so please note the "session(s)" that Y/n and Ghost attend may not be how therapy actually is supposed to go, but for the sake of the story let's pretend it does.
It was weird. Strange. Confusing.
A few days had passed since you agreed to go to counseling with Simon. You tried not to, but the ghost of a smile that formed on his lips when you said you would go had you feeling so many emotions. You hated yourself for it. You also hated yourself for how you loved that Simon wanted to work on your marriage and himself.
He came home early every day in those past days, even if you two didn't have dinner together. Even if you two hardly talked to each other, he was at home. It was odd. Walking around in your own home trying to ignore him, and it was eating him alive.... and you too.
On more than one occasion, he would sit out on the patio with you, even if you didn't say anything to him. You honestly wanted to talk to him, but that felt too foreign; too prohibited. Couples that were going through divorces couldn't be so domestic, could they?
It wasn't until the night before you went to counseling that your coworker, Ava, begged you to go have a drink after work that you found out if other couples had gone through something similar. You tried your best to avoid her questions, but she read you like an open book, asking what was going on. When you finally broke down in tears and told her everything, she hugged you tightly as any good friend would do. She even told you what she had gone through, and you were shocked to learn about her and her husband's almost divorce story.
Like Simon, he had cheated and it tore Ava apart. While it wasn't the exact same situation, the pain was still the same. But she encouraged you to do what you wanted to do, and that was the difficult part.
"You want to stay wit him don't you?" she asked with a sad smile.
You nodded, "I love him so much. And I know it's so stupid. I'm an idiot. But I don't know if I can... it hurts so much."
She hushed you before more tears fell, "Y/n.... I know it's hard. And I know that other people might say you're crazy if you stay with him... but they're not you. They're not married to Simon. You have to do what you think it's right for your heart........ and if it turns out differently, then it's your life. Not his. Not mine. Not anybody else."
She spoke with so much conviction, you sort of felt happy for a split second. It was what she was told when she was going through those same feelings.
"I just wish he would have told me." You sniffled, looking down at the empty glass on the table in front of you.
She hummed in thought for a moment, "You know what I think you should do?" she asked, making you look up at her again, "Make him realize what he was missing while he was too busy with her."
"Huh?"
She nodded, "Yep. If he couldn't see that you are the only woman he needed, then show him."
Your eyebrows drew together, "How?"
A devilish smirk formed on her lips.
When you arrived on base the next day, you were beyond nervous. The Military Police at the front gate looked at you in confusion when you showed him your ID, but you were too busy trying not to vomit on your clothes. The clothes that you finally decided to put on after debating for over an hour over putting them on or not. Ava's idea of making Simon realize how much you were the only woman he needed was to start showing him how much any other man could and would try to take you from him.
"Your clothes," she told you. "And.... the way you act. It's time to bring out your dark feminine side."
Your what? You hadn't even heard of that before.
It was a stupid idea, but one that would work because while you normally got dressed in your usual casual work attire at first, Ava called you that morning and made sure you wore that outfit she made you buy last night before going home. It was a hassle to hide it from Simon, who was sitting on the couch when you arrived, but you somehow did.
The light and flowy clothes you always wore were switched to a more tight-fitting and sexy outfit while still keeping it chic and appropriate because you still had to go to work afterward. The icing on the cake was when she told you to wear heels; sexy heels. You even wore makeup - mostly to hide the dark circles under your eyes - as you didn't wear it often. And god did it work....
When you got out of your car and walked the short distance to the front doors of the building, several soldiers passed you, not even trying to hide the fact they were staring. Even a soldier who held the door open for you to walk into the building stared, trying to hide his gaze by offering if you needed help finding something or someone.
Simon was sitting, waiting in the lobby - like he texted you a few minutes ago - so you declined the random guy's offer as you looked around for your husband. He stood up before making his way to you when he heard your voice, but he found his feet walking slightly quicker when he saw a man standing in front of you, glancing up and down your figure. When your eyes met his, the corners of your lips turned up slightly, partly because you were nervous, the other part because you had never seen him at work before.
But Simon's eyes cut away and landed immediately on the soldier next to you, and when the guy looked at who he knew as Ghost, he gulped. "Need something, Sergeant?" Simon asked, his voice short and blunt and a tad bit irritated.
The Sergeant shook his quickly, "No sir." He glanced at you then back to lieutenant, "Have a good day.... sir," he quickly said before scurrying down the hallway.
It was funny. Simon used to tell you that he intimidated people, and while you sometimes saw it when you were out in public, you never saw him do it at work. Watching that soldier leave hastily drew a small giggle from your throat before your eyes met your husband's brown orbs once more.
Simon was thankful that when he worked, he wore his hard shell skull-printed mask. It maintained his anonymity both on missions and on base. But in that moment he was even more thankful because it hid his facial expressions as he looked over you, taking in your outfit. Something definitely changed in what you had on. You had never wore work clothes that seemed... sexy and slightly revealing.
"You look beautiful," he sincerely said before he could even process his thoughts. You were going to work... like that?
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked back at him. You heard the way he said it. Like he was trying to figure out how to take in what you had on. "Thank you," you whispered. You glanced down at your wrist to look at your watch, "We should head in."
He gave you a nod, before guiding you down the hallway to the chaplain's office. You tried to ignore the burning feeling in your chest as his hand rested on your back while he walked slightly behind you. Like he was keeping you in his view, but letting you know he was right there with you. He did that all the time so what was so different about it now?
Steading your breathing, Simon came to a stop and informed it was the chaplain's office. You nodded, nervously licking your lips before he turned the handle and allowed you to go in first.
With brief introductions out of the way, you, Simon, and the chaplain - Lt. Jones - sat in his office. You and Simon were on the couch, while he sat in the chair across from you two. It was awkward, and you felt your heart beat rapidly in your chest while Lt. Jones opened his notebook and took out a pen to write.
"Now I know this can't be easy for both of you... but I'd like to start off by telling me how you came to the decision to seek counseling yeah?" He began.
You fidgeted in your seat, briefly glancing at Simon before back at the chaplain, while your husband swallowed the huge lump that formed in his throat. A beat went by, and you almost thought you'd faint from how anxious you were, but Simon spoke up.
"I.... cheated on my wife." He breathed out, and it hurt when you heard the pain in his voice.
Fuck. You weren't even five minutes into the session and your eyes were already tearing up. It hurt more than you wanted it to hear him say it out loud; that he cheated on you. For the past few days, you had been ignoring him because you weren't ready to hear those words from his mouth. But now you had to. You had to if you wanted to get past this.
Lt. Jones wrote something in his notebook, and you and Simon both glanced at his pen moving across the page, "And you two want to work through this yeah?"
You opened your mouth to speak, but Simon spoke before you, "Yes."
However, the chaplain noticed the way you fidgeted once more on the couch and closed your eyes. He glanced at Simon then back to you, "Mrs. Riley?" He asked. The name; your name. Hearing that alone made a tear trickle down your cheek. Simon glanced at you and god did he want to reach out and touch you, but he was afraid you'd yank away from him.
"I-I want to-" Simon couldn't help the tiny smile that began to form on his face, but it dropped when you continued, "-but.... I don't think I can."
"Why is that?" the chaplain asked.
You glanced at Simon, seeing his eyes already locked on you. Even with his mask on you could see the sad expression in his eyes, "Because... I know how this ends."
Both Lt. Jones and Simon looked at you in confusion, Simon more so than the other man.
"What do you mean ma'am?" Jones asked.
You tried to keep the tears in, but talking about your past was never easy to do. You had only briefly talked about it to Simon before and it was very much just saying that your last relationship didn't work out but you never said why. But now..... you didn't want to lie to a chaplain; a priest. So you continued. . .
"I always get hurt. Always-" you glanced down at the floor in thought, "-my last relationship... I was cheated on. The one before that I was cheated on. It doesn't matter." You sniffed, making the chaplain hand you a tissue which you kindly took, "At some point I just have to accept that I don't belong in a relationship, let alone a marriage."
"Y'never told me that," Simon interrupted, his voice soft.
You shrugged, "It doesn't matter... you still would have cheated Simon," he visibly swallowed the lump in his throat, "I get it... I'm not enough. I've never been enough. Not for you. Not for-"
"That's not true." He cut you off. You could hear the frustration in his tone.
The chaplain also heard it and decided it was good to step in, "Lieutenant.. please let her finish. It's good to get feelings out when you want to work through things. Especially something like this."
He sighed, nodding as he glanced back at you. You hadn't even looked up from the spot on the floor before Jones told you to continue. But you knew Simon would interrupt you once more at what you were going to say next. And that made you cry more.
"The only difference between now and the past is that I'm not getting my ass beat," a sour chuckle left your throat.
"What?" Simon asked as his body tensed greatly.
The chaplain even looked at you in a way that was...guarded?
"Mrs. Riley, what do you mean by that?"
You looked up at him, "My last relationship.... when I found out he was cheating, I confronted him about it. And it just resulted in me in the hospital."
Silence.
Nothing was heard as the two men looked at you, eyes wide, even if Lt. Jones tried his best to remain expressionless. Simon, on the other hand, was fuming in his head. Some dick at the audacity to put his hands on you because he got caught cheating? He wanted to find the douchebag and kill him... but you never talked about your ex; never said he hit you - his wife. He didn't care if that was before he met you, he was thinking of all the ways he could find the guy and kill him.
"Is that why you think you can't work past this with your husband now?" You nodded, and Simon couldn't help his words from slipping.
"Y/n I would never hit you-"
You finally looked back at him, "I know that. I know you won't. Still doesn't change the fact that you don't love me anymore."
"I do-"
"Stop it Simon," you pushed.
Thank god for Lt. Jones who was good at his job. He knew the conversation was going to turn into a back-and-forth bickering spree so he stopped you two before it got to that point.
"If you two want this to work through this-" he began, making you two look at him, "-I recommend that you both continuing counseling with me. Let's start off with twice a week yeah? One day will be an individual session, and the other will be together." Simon glanced at you before nodding his head in agreement. A deep frown formed on your face at the feeling that you wanted to continue this. You had to if Simon was going to give you the papers. But you also really wanted to work on your marriage. You sighed before nodding your head, making the chaplain give you both a soft grin. "I know it's not easy. Marriage. But just knowing that you even came in here today, shows me that deep down you want to get past this together."
Lt. Jones eventually dismissed you both with a tiny bit of homework to do before your next session the following week. Emotions were all over the place for you and Simon. While you were busy worrying about the battle between wanting to stay with your husband or leaving, Simon was beating himself up. He had done the one thing that he honestly never thought he would have. He was just like his father, and that thought alone made him want to vomit.
You were almost to the front doors of the building when Simon's gloved hand gently grabbed your wrist, turning you back to look at him. His eyes were on the brink of tearing up, but you knew he wouldn't cry... not at work. He didn't say anything for a moment while he looked at your face, eyes flickering to the quivering of your lip and your redness of your eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?" was the first thing he said.
You almost rolled your eyes, but instead you focused on his boots, "Because it's not something I like to talk about. It was a long time ago, and I was stupid to stay with that bastard," you whispered, "But it doesn't matter what happened Simon. Would you have done anything differently if I told you?" Your eyes snapped back up to meet his as you pulled your wrist out of his grip.
He didn't respond. You couldn't see it, but his jaw tensed greatly under his mask. Would he have not cheated? You couldn't be sure... but you also couldn't think about it because a high-pitched voice interrupted your conversation as a woman strolled up next to your husband.
"Ghost..." she said as she looked at him, "I was looking for you earlier. They said you was busy."
Ghost. The way she said his name made your eyes snap towards her as she glanced at you. Simon didn't even acknowledge her for a second, eyes still on you, before he looked at her. His jaw was flexing under his mask so hard he thought he would break his teeth. And by the way her eyes widened at you before she awkwardly looked at your husband, you felt something stir in the pit of your stomach.
You tried to lie to yourself. You really did. But the jealousy swam through your body as you looked at her. It was her; the woman from the video. And by the look on Simon's face when he looked at her in disgust only confirmed it.
"Uh I'll just see you later alright?" she quiet said before quickly walking away down the hall.
The universe was truly against you wasn't it? Out of everything, you didn't expect to actually see the woman in person. The woman who - even in her uniform - was a beauty. You always admired the beauty of women, complimenting a woman when she looked nice or anything. But you hated the way she looked; hated the way the makeup looked on her.... because she was gorgeous. And because she was everything you weren't.
As she walked away, Simon didn't even turn his head to look back at her, his eyes trained on you. But you looked. You leaned your head to the side to watch as she glanced at the two of you before turning a corner down the hall, a slight frown on her face. The anger that bubbled in your chest had you turning on your feet and walking out of the building to your car, making Simon walk after you.
"Sweetheart," he tried calling out to you, but you picked up your pace, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. "Y/n..." he reached out to you again.
You spun on your heel so fast you thought it would break, "It's her, isn't it?" He didn't respond, "Her?!" you raised your voice a little, making him close the gap between you.
"Love please don't do this," he begged, keeping his voice down since you were standing outside.
"Do what?? What I should do and leave?" you felt like you were about to burst with anger.
He grabbed your arms, pulling you into him even further, "No. Please Y/n... Sweetheart, I swear I'm so sorry for hurting you. I wanna make this right."
"How Simon? How can you even make this right?" you choked on a sob that escaped your throat. "I can't do this right now. I need to go to work, Simon."
You pulled away from him, his hands longing for your touch as you walked to your car and got in. Before you pulled off, you hated that your eyes immediately found his and you wanted to punch the window so bad. Instead you steadied your breathing and drove off to work.
Simon watched as you left, fingers flexing as he fought the urge to punch anything that was in his sight. Pvt Williams had just returned from a mission with her unit, and he knew exactly where he was going next as his eyes darkened with intense anger.
Yep. This will officially be a short story I feel like. I have so many ideas running through my head. Working on part 4 currently.
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dokries · 10 days
Text
all my love
pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, friends to lovers
word count: 2.2k
warnings: mentions of drinking (reader is not present), crying drunk hoshi (and seokmin), jeonghan is the devil personified /hj, allusions to the movie drawing closer (2024), love confessions, use of baby
author note: this was a birthday gift for my beloved @m00n1sms ‎♡ eishi, i love you!! thanks for giving me permission to post this :> this was also written shortly after i watched a movie that caused a headache because i cried too much (drawing closer) and i needed to incorporate it in here because i love it <3 lots of love and i hope you enjoy :D
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seungcheol swears he’s not in love with you.
actually, he’s insistent on it, even when his friends raise an eyebrow and laugh it off…which is what’s happening right now, at their monthly dinner—hey, it’s harder than it looks to gather all thirteen of them for a simple dinner and as the adopted father, he makes sure that there’s always one every single month.
“you’re in love, aren’t you?” soonyoung giggles, and half of the group joins in to laugh at seungcheol’s pouty face.
“hey!” seungcheol protests as he slams down the shot glass of what was once filled with soju down. “stop accusing me of things that aren’t true!”
jeonghan raises an eyebrow beside him and before seungcheol can question his best friend’s actions, soonyoung starts crying.
“how would you feel if you were them, and you didn’t get to see your crush anymore cause he was avoiding you and his feelings for you?” soonyoung sniffles and mingyu wraps an arm around his drunk friend to soothe him, bringing soonyoung into his chest.
seungcheol stares at the two of them before sighing because no matter how many glasses soonyoung had drunk already—which seemed to be way too many—he might have a point, one seungcheol isn't ready to admit.
jeonghan sips his beer quietly before stating bluntly, “you should hang out with them on thursday.”
“what?” seungcheol turns to face him before blinking.
“we were supposed to go to this little flower bouquet workshop on thursday and i really don’t think they would mind if you went instead of me.” jeonghan says casually as he puts down his glass.
he turns to look lazily at his hopelessly in love friend, and sighs. “besides, they think something is up with you…just don’t make it obvious, okay?”
“make what obvious?” seungcheol looks at jeonghan curiously.
“that you love them!” seokmin chimes in from the other end of the long table, getting up so seungcheol can hear him better (he’s drunk as well, just like soonyoung).
seungcheol slumps, pouring himself another drink, already knowing by jeonghan’s evil giggle and glance with joshua that it’s going to be a long night for him especially.
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if one thing’s for sure, you weren’t expecting seungcheol to show up at your door with a bouquet of flowers after ghosting you for a week. well, he did say work had become busier but still (it’s easier to be petty than confront your feelings, especially when his hair is all fluffy and his smile is apologetic).
“here,” seungcheol gives you the white orchids with a nervous smile, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that didn’t just brush against yours.
“where’s jeonghan?” you stare down at the bouquet before up at him with a raised eyebrow, ignoring the way your heart beats at the small note that says “i’m sorry :(” tucked into the paper wrap.
confused, seungcheol takes his phone out and points to it. “did he not text you?”
you shake your head before letting seungcheol in so he doesn’t have to stand outside awkwardly any longer, grabbing your phone as you tell him to get comfortable on the couch in your living room.
you ❙
jeonghan where are you and why is s**ngch**l here instead ‎♡
wow that’s a lot of censoring
scum of the earth hellspawn <3 ❙
hehe
you ❙
is that your only response??
i know where you live. do not play with me yoon jeonghan.
scum of the earth hellspawn <3 ❙
fine fine
i’ll explain myself
he’s my replacement for today 😇
just thought you two losers needed to spend time together and you know…actually talk 💀
have fun! thank me later
okay, so basically jeonghan’s being a menace like usual. that’s okay, you’re used to it—but why does he have to involve poor helpless seungcheol in this? you turn to look at the man who’s mindlessly toying with the hem of his blue shirt as he waits for you.
ah, seungcheol. where do you start with him?
originally, you knew him through jeonghan, one of the few mutual friends you had until you got introduced to the whole group after sharing a university class. now out of that hellscape, you’ve stayed somewhat close with all of them, often being invited to the little get-togethers they do once every few months at jeonghan and seungkwan’s shared place, and that is where you met the man of your dreams (all while jeonghan was taking a heavy nap, actually; maybe jeonghan had a vision of bringing his two friends together).
as you sit beside him, seungcheol clears his throat, unsure of where to start. “so…”
you turn your body towards him, encouraging seungcheol to continue with a nod of your head. he blinks before clearing his throat again, though this time his tone is less apprehensive. “i’m sorry i didn’t reply to your texts. i just…”
“…couldn’t handle social contact unless you were forced into it by a certain devil?” you pick up where he pauses, and he cracks a smile at your joke. “yeah i thought so.”
seungcheol’s too scared he’ll accidentally confess if he reveals why he really didn’t say anything back to your numerous well wishes, so he nods with a bittersweet smile, scolding himself in his head for thinking today will be any different from a friend date.
you glance over at the flowers he’s just given you, now secure in a spare vase you had sitting around as you made sure to give them a home before messaging jeonghan, and chuckle, unknowingly lifting seungcheol’s spirits. “you do know we’re going to a flower bouquet making workshop, right?”
“oh. well…” he freezes before pursing his lips and hiding his head in his hands. of course, he completely forgot that you are literally going to the all my love flower shop jeonghan had suggested going to earlier for apology flowers…he did that on purpose, didn’t he?
you smile, shaking your head at his embarrassment. “it’s okay cheol, don’t worry. you can just make me another one to make up for all those days you ghosted me!”
seungcheol winces again but sighs in relief at how casually you mention it; maybe you aren’t that mad after all? he knows he couldn’t be frustrated with you anyway since he is to blame after all, and the little grin on your face as you hold out a hand to help lift him up being one he missed dearly is one he can’t be angry at.
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“seungcheol, you’re clipping them all wrong! they’re never gonna last once you put them in water at that rate.”
seungcheol turns to you, his eye twitching at the nagging he’s had to endure once you started the small class. set in the exact same flower shop as the one he entered earlier—the workers gave him a curious glance before noticing you beside him and giving him a wink, making his ears red—the two of you had been led to a small section of the store where there were small pristine tables laid out with newspaper and scissors, as well as things he eventually learned how to use, like the book of flowers and their meanings, which is now serving as a barrier in the middle of the table.
he says your name impatiently before sighing to himself, wondering what jeonghan has gotten him into. “hey, i’m trying my best, okay! besides the instructor said it was fine since it’s my first bouquet anyway.”
“well, i wanna keep it forever since you made it for me, so i need it to be a bouquet that lasts!” you complain, frowning at seungcheol’s dismissive words before immediately turning to your own work in front of you, choosing to ignore your slight slip up.
seungcheol clears his throat before looking over at what you have so far and lets out an begrudgingly appreciative hum. “that’s pretty good actually.”
“aw thanks, cheol!” you smile at him and he suddenly feels like the already vibrant flowers in front of him became so much brighter in just an instant.
he grins to himself, humming softly as he organizes the gerberas in front of him into a small pile; there’s only three of them anyway, all warm colours that match you perfectly.
you had questioned the amount of flowers he had taken and he answered with “it’s easier to handle,” which you thought was a believable excuse. however, he’s taking a page from the book of the movie drunk seokmin had cried about at their gathering the other day, and plans to give you exactly three gerberas, a love confession and one of loyalty, which is something he’s always been to you.
of course, he seems to think you have no idea, and he’s dead wrong. you exhale a shaky breath as you finish up your own bouquet, a collection of the flowers you found pretty while looking at what the shop offers. however, though you’re unaware of it, you also have the same idea to seungcheol’s: using gerberas like in the movie drawing closer to confess your love shyly.
the six gerberas, all ranging from deep reds to cheerful yellows, are arranged in the middle with several other small filler flowers surrounding them, thanks to the help of the instructor who picked them out for you with a wink, knowing what the two of you are up to.
assuming seungcheol is oblivious about the meaning of his own arrangement, you give a content nod to him once he finishes, wrapping up the flowers in probably the prettiest newspaper you’ve ever seen—it’s decorated with flowers and small doodles that match the simplicity of the bouquet he’s created, and he can’t help but smile as you finish up your own with a small bow with twine.
the instructor waves you over to the counter at the front of the store to pay with a smile, and rings you up as seungcheol offers to pay with a sheepish smile, still trying to make up for not being with you for the last week.
“oh my god, these are so cute! i can’t believe you both love each other so much…” the employee points to your hard work and gushes over it as you watch in horror. “like using these to say ‘i’m crazy over you’? that’s genius, especially when you consider how your boyfriend’s bouquet is him confessing he loves you!”
“you two are so versed in the language of flowers, and i’m guessing you watched drawing closer as well! such a tragic love story but i’m guessing it makes you grateful for your own relationship, am i right?” she squeals before handing you your respective bouquets, ushering you out of the all my love flower shop with a “have a nice day, lovebirds!”
you turn to seungcheol and are surprised at how red his face is, his cheeks rivalling your own. maybe…it would be a good idea to just roll with what the nosy shopkeeper was saying, considering it’s true—at least, for you.
you thrust out the bouquet in your shaky hands towards him. “this…is for you, and it’s just like she said.” you clear your throat, since it dries at the sheer adoration in seungcheol’s eyes once you meet them. “i’m crazy in love with you and your short temper, your caring nature and well, just you.”
he takes your bouquet in the hand that’s not holding his own with a smile that’s growing bigger by the second, and you get the courage to continue. “i’ve been holding this off so long because i was scared you didn’t feel the same way, and i…i guess i really hope that lady was right about your flowers.”
seungcheol gulps, giving you the bouquet crafted specifically for you, and sighs, covering the hand you’re using to hold it. “she was totally right…i’m in love with you too, and i’ve already tried denying it.”
he shakes his head with a laugh. “the guys were all right; i was hurting you by not being direct, and i hope that you’ll forgive me for that. this,” he looks down at the three flowers in your now interlocked hands, “is my way of confessing that i want to be by your side, if you’ll let me.”
you grin with him and nod, bringing your heads closer to touch your foreheads together as seungcheol giggles. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too, baby.” he replies instantly, leaving no room for hesitation like he has so many times before, and you turn red at the pet name. just before seungcheol can comment on how cute you are, he’s interrupted by a voice from behind you, and the two of you freeze.
“um, so sorry to interrupt your moment but you’re blocking the entryway of the shop,” the employee says, peeking her head out of the building you had just exited with a sheepish smile.
you and seungcheol exchange a glance before apologizing furiously and walking off in search of a bench to rest, with one of your hands holding the other’s, and one holding your now blossomed love.
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g3llyfish · 5 months
Note
Hey I wanted to request something funny.
Like redson and macaque ( separately ) kidnaps one of mk’s friends, fem s/o and they start laughing ( not like mocking them ) but more like ( I can’t believe this happened ) while saying “ no no I’m sorry..it’s just..this is the most effort a man has ever put into me 😂 “
Idk i thought it was funny in my head 🤔 hope this was okay
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"DELUSIONAL"
Redson x FEM! reader x Macaque (Seperate)
Either platonic or romantic
Redson and Macaque judging the reader, Reader being delulu, MK just wants his best friend back TT
NOTE:
MY FIRST ASJ AAA Tbh, it can also be considered as GN!reader cause I mostly do second pov but I still hope you enjoy!!
🔥 || REDSON !!
It has been a few week of him trying to defeat the noodle boy to get his staff
As expected, he fails again and again, machines after machines being crushed by that stupid staff and that stupid monkey boy
Knowingly that there's no use for his machines since they only go to his scrap corner
Until an idea pops up in his big demon smart boy brain
What if he kidnaps someone who is dear to MK and bargain them for the staff!
I mean, if that stupid noodle boy loves his friends so much he would do everything to get his best friend back!
Brilliant! Amazing plan even!
Meanwhile, you were hanging out with Mei and MK in the anti-gravity arcade, having the greatest time if your life
Until the ceiling broke down...
You were immediately grabbed by the demon bull clones and tied up so you wouldn't escape.
     "Redson?! Get back here with our best friend!" MK shouted at the bull prince who has you in his arms as you struggle.
     "Never! Catch me if you can, noodle boy and dragon horse girl!" Redson yells back as he laughs dramatically and surrounds him, you, and the bull clones with his fire to teleport away.
     Now you are hung from the ceiling in his lair, if that's what you like to call it considering the lava pool, tools, materials, engines, and many more are laying around the gigantic room.
     "Let me go!" You demanded "What are you planning now, Redson? Y'know MK is gonna MK.O!!™ you again right?"
     Redson scoffs a laugh, lifting up his welding mask to look up at your hanging state as he puts down his blowtorch.
     "After I finish my invention, we will go up to the mountain where my father was imprisoned..." He started to monologue "and then... I will exchange your life for the staff! ...that noodle boy cares for you so much that he will give it to me willingly! And once I have the staff is mine... MY FATHER WILL GAIN HIS POWER AND BE THE GREATEST RULER OF THE WORLD!"
     Redson's dark and overdramatic laughs echoes through the room as the lava's light reflected behind him, creating a giant menacing shadow of himself on the walls.
     Meanwhile you only blink twice at him, not being effected by the intimidating aura that the prince made.
     "You think I'm worth more than the staff?" "What"
     "Well, you basically said that I'm the same price as the staff... Do you think I'm that special?" You grin at him while he was only flabbergasted by your words.
     "W-what?! NO YOU IDIO--" "I don't know, like, you kidnapping me, thinking that I'm enough to be exchanged with the staff, you could've picked Mei but you chose me!"
     Redson gave you a dumbfounded look, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as you explain your conclusion.
     "Like, you took effort to kidnap me, you think I'm that worth of effort? No one has ever done that for me" You continue as you sniffle a bit.
     "Did-did you forget about the part where I said about my world domination?" Redson simply ask as he gives you a deadpanned stare.
     "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm just so happy right now, you think I'm worth more than the staff? You think I'm that unique?" "Shut up, you're delusional."
While he made his invention to secure his plan, you were in the background trying to make him admit that he thinks you're special
You're not what he thinks you are that's for sure, with you being a giggling mess while you're LITERALLY CAPTURED BY TYE DEMON BULL PRINCE
He expected you to be like MK and Mei, someone who wrecklessly fighting anything that move...
Not someone who is off to delulu land with quips at the back of your hand
He definitely regrets the kidnapping plan
🍌 || MACAQUE !!
After the 'stealing-wukong's-powers-from-MK' plan didn't work, he couldn't find anymore information or updates in MK's life
Macaque has to keep a close eye on him afterall, considering he is Wukong's apprentice
So why not get one of MK's best friends? He can't just lurk in the shadows
Sure, that'll work but he needs more dept and personal stuff about MK, to find something to hold him back
So while you were on your way back home, not paying attention to your surroundings that was when Macaque took the opportunity.
You took a step and before you knew it, you were falling down to the ground into a theater place for shadow puppet shows.
You landed on your back on the wooden ground, making you raise your brow in confusion cause you remember that you were walking on a pedestrian.
As you look around the place, you hear a dark echoey chuckle from behind you making the hair on your skin rise.
You stood up immediately to see none other than the shadow of the six-eared Macaque.
"Hey, doll..." He chuckles again, his grin getting wider as his shadow shrinks and he turns into his monkey form.
"Macaque?! What am I doing here?! Are you here to hurt me?! Well bad luck, monkey!" You glared at him making him smirk.
"Don't worry, don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you, I'm just here to borrow you for a while" Macaque says shrugging, getting closer towards the stage that you stood on.
"Me?" You ask in full confusion, your body relaxing as you put down your defenses.
"Mhm... You see, hiding in the shadow is not enough for getting information and I need you get me some," Macaque answers.
You pause as each side of your lips starts to slowly rise, "Me?"
"Yup, if you don't comply... then I might take back the 'I won't hurt you' part, simple, hm?" Macaque threatens with a hum.
You pause again, longer this time "me?"
"Yes, you..." Macaque sighs as he gives you a 'are you deaf?' look.
You held your laugh for a while before laughing aloud, Macaque, ofcourse felt as if you're underestimating him as he gets a little grumpy at your reaction.
"Wh- why are you laughing huh?!" "Pfft-- sorry! Sorry, sorry, it's just... I don't know it's funny"
"Funny how?" Macaque ask as he raises his eyebrow in frustration and crosses his arms.
"I don't know, you could've chosen anyone that could stalk MK for you but you chose me! Hah! I just didn't expect that someone would actually put effort on me" you laugh out.
"Effort?" Macaque questions, he wouldn't disagree with himself but he's definitely worried for your well-being.
"Yeah, I mean, you could've just sended me a text saying 'give me information or you're dead' text like my other exes, but here we are!" You continue to blabber making Macaque give you a concerned look.
"I-what..." "Yeah! I'm kinda flattered that you put so much effort on me, kidnapping me, tracking me down, watching which street I go to-- okay that's kinda creepy--" "okay, stop"
Macaque has to make you stop so he can continue his plan
He's mostly concerned about you cause who tf reacts like that?
He had to make a deal with you to proceed with his 'information gathering' plan but you always gawk at the fact that he chose you out of all people
Plan unsuccessful (?)
I'm sorry if it isn't to your expectations TT tell me criticisms if you'd like but I still hope you had fun with the fix as much as I did, love you pooksters :P
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izzabela · 1 month
Text
Show You My Impurities - Lin Kuei x fem!chubby-curvy!reader (scenario fic)
in which different scenarios show how the brothers react with you being insecure in a flattering dress
a/n: i know i updated my rules, but i'm gonna pump this and another req i got privately. from now on, though, do not send me requests in my DMs when reqs are closed
ship[s]: tomas, kuai liang & bi han x fem!chubby!reader (scenario)
warning(s): smidge of angst, body insecurity, suggestive endings, non-kanon
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guys ignore the text on this gif, but also don't because it's lowkey hilarious
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Bi Han
As Bi Han sits outside of the private dressing room of the shop you two were in, you stood in front of the mirror dejected and down.
You and Bi Han were out shopping after you realized some of your clothes didn't fit anymore. While Bi Han didn't see anything wrong with it, your heart sank as thoughts of yourself flooded your mind.
You were naturally a bigger girl. Beautifully large thighs, natural hips, a just a bit of a cute pudge on your belly, you were a bit bigger than the other girls. While you had the support of Bi Han (the fucking grandmaster), it didn't stop people or your mind from talking bad about you.
Back in front of the mirror, you sigh as you pull on the part of the fabric that hugged your waist a little too tight. It rolled over your natural curves and made you self-conscious.
You were drawn out of your thoughts with a light knock on your dressing room door.
"Madam? The grandmaster would like to see you now," the fitting room attendant announces behind the door.
You sigh once more, "I'll be out soon. Thank you."
Your flats drag with the unbearable weight of your thoughts as you walk out to see Bi Han on the circular couch in the foyer of the fitting room. He's reading a book, but the quickest glimpse at you and you're the only thing in his eyes.
"Àiren," Bi Han breathes as he gets up to see you in the dress.
Your smile is unstable and wobbly, and the matching wave doesn't help as it solidifies how the dress makes you feel. You try to stop picking at the fabric hugging your body, but the habit persists.
"I'm not sure this is the right dress," you say timidly. "It shows... too much."
Bi Han sets the book down, closing it without its bookmark, and meets you near the mirror.
"And why, àiren, do you think that?" Bi Han treads carefully, hands resting right above your love handles.
The wobble in your smile turns into a frown as hidden tears streak down delicately. You breathe a shuddery breath as you pull away from him and look into the mirror.
"Look at me!" you cry as you pull the fabric again. "It's hugging all the wrong spots, it's too tight, unflattering, and awful on a woman like me!"
Forgive Bi Han, dear reader, as everything you were telling him dissolved into nothing but dust as he looked you up and down over and over again.
All he could see was the beautiful woman he was dating. How that softness of your legs was highlighted with the dress, your little bum beautiful and round, and your breasts pushed together due to the technology in the dress allowing to support a woman's breasts without the need of a bra.
Where you saw impurities, he saw defining characteristics, features that were unique to only you.
And as the grandmaster to a large organization, unique strengths were something he could identify within a heartbeat.
Bi Han's semi-PG thoughts were interrupted as you sniffled and wiped your tears in front of the mirror. He coos as he hugs you from behind, large arms snaking around your soft waist and over your belly.
"Àiren," Bi Han starts. "You are lovely."
You've heard such words from family and friends before, hell even from Bi Han from time to time. This time, though, it felt like you experienced real life superpowers.
You smile weakly, but it's genuine as Bi Han peppers kisses on your neck and the dip of your shoulder. You giggle softly as his hands find yours and link up with them, and you can feel his hands use yours as he roams your body.
Every part of your body he goes over, you gain a new appreciation for all of your curves, the lovely lady lumps of yours, and the overall softness of your figure.
"Feel better, àiren?" Bi Han asks, hands finding a new spot dangerously close to your bum.
You give a hearty laugh, and the friction between you and Bi Han's trousers causes a certain something to poke at your behind. You turn behind you and meet his eyes with a knowing look.
"Really darling?" you tease. Bi Han just chuckles as he presses your bum on him harder.
"I hope to show you another way to appreciate yourself as well," he says quietly, kissing up your neck as he guides you back into your stall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tomas
You drop your shopping bags on the floor of yours and Tomas's shared room. He was out today, training the initiates with his brothers. Your friends hit you up via letter to go shopping, and after looking through your wardrobe, it was time to acquire new garments.
Your old clothes were already pretty big considering you were a bigger and curvier girl, and while it was normal for anybody to gain weight, you felt different about it.
Your hips had grown wider, thighs larger, and waist just a bit bigger than before. You felt different, and not in a good way.
After your shopping spree with your friends, you come back home with all the new shirts, skirts, pants, and most importantly, dresses. Trying each one of them on, you couldn't help but tug on the ends of the fabric.
A habit you had, plus a bit of a scratching problem when you got nervous. But when Tomas was here, all of these issues were like it never existed.
Except he wasn't here right now. Your only other weapon against your mind was preoccupied, and you were losing the battle.
After trying on new trousers for meetings, leggings for training, and shirts for all sorts of occasions, dresses were the last clothes to cover. By the gods you were nervous.
Trying on the first one, it was a long-sleeved body con with a slit that stopped at your thigh. You swore that it looked shorter on the mannequin.
Damn it, corporate shopping centers.
You vehemently rubbed your hands down the dress to try and bring the slit down, but it was made like that. Looking at yourself in the full body mirror that stood next to the dresser, your eyes were wide in fear at the sight of you.
While you had been reassured many times from your friends, family, Tomas and his family, the thoughts gnawed and festered away in your mind.
Through the mirror, you saw how your hips hugged the dress, how your little belly rolled over in the fabric, your thigh peeking through the slit and bits of cellulite coming through.
While you knew that everyone, Tomas especially, would reassure you, you couldn't help but feel like an imposter- a pig in a dress.
The tears you so badly were holding in began to flow down your cheeks and hit the dress. You sniffle as you waddle over to the bed, head buried in your hands as you wallow in your depressing thoughts.
Suddenly, the door opens and you can hear a certain European man humming a tune and his steps walk on the pebble floor.
"Feather?" his voice is careful as he approaches you. Your shoulders are perked up as you messily try to cover up your tears, but that shit clearly isn't working as Tomas is on his knees as one of his hands is on your knee and the other on your wet cheek.
"Feather, what's wrong?" he asks softly, wiping your endless tears as you get up from the bed. Tomas is definitely taken aback as he follows you to the mirror.
"Tomas, you know what's wrong. I mean, just look!" you cry, pointing to yourself in the mirror as you keep tugging the slit of your dress.
"You can see my thighs, especially the little wrinkles. My tummy is ugly here in the middle, and..."
Tomas didn't hear a single thing since he saw the dress on you through the mirror. If he had a tail and ears, they would be perked up and wagging. Hell, he might even be drooling.
Tomas loved the way the slit teased the legs he's marked over and over again. He loved the way bits of your softness hugged the fabric, sign of your health that he loved to see. And by the elder gods, those hips of yours. Round, voluptuous, and full, his most favorite part of you was accented so well in the dress.
"I just feel like an imposter," you say, and his thoughts were interrupted and brought back to you.
"And why would my feather feel like that?" Tomas asks as he blocks you from the mirror. You sigh as you hold on the fabric again.
"It doesn't suit me, I just said that," you groan. Tomas takes your hands and decides to do something about your inner voice.
"You are ethereal," Tomas whispers as he kisses your forehead. "Spectacular, perfect, one-of-a-kind."
You giggle at every word he uses to praise you, at every kiss he gave you on your face. Tomas holds your face and plants one final kiss on your lips.
"And if you truly feel like you want a change, we can do that too," Tomas assured you. "No matter what form you are, even a worm, I will cherish you."
This was why you chose Tomas out of the many men that threw themselves at you. He accepted you for who you are, and he would support you if you ever wanted to change anything about you.
You kiss him on his lips as a thank you, giggling into his mouth as he opens up for you to explore. You fling your arms around his neck as his hand res comfortable on your lower back. Like well-tailored gloves, he fits well there as he pulls you closer and makes you feel the growing muscle beneath his pants.
"Oh my..." you whisper, looking down at the bulge in his pants. He chuckles as he whispers in your ear.
"There are ways to quell the voice in your head as well," Tomas suggests.
You walk backwards and lead him to the bed once more.
"I'm all ears, commander."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kuai Liang
You stared back into the mirror that threw back the image of yourself. It was you alone with your reflection in the dressing room.
No point in hiding, though, as two more mirrors were angled in your direction. You were surrounded with yourself in this dress, and it felt like you were cornered by a pack of hungry wolves.
You step down from the middle step and sit down and wave your legs from side to side in boredom and sadness.
You were out dress shopping with Kuai Liang for a wedding guest dress. His old friend, Harumi, was getting married, and he and his entire family, and their partners, were invited to the ceremony.
Three shops later, you found a beautiful mermaid dress with long-sleeves and went down to your ankles. On the mannequin, the dress was spectacular. Of course, mannequins are not true to life, but it looked amazing.
Now that the dress was on you, though, you wanted to dissolve into nothing but dust.
You always did your best to ignore the negative thoughts that plagued your mind, but they bit your ankles like a bear trap- unknown yet always there. This dress made it feel like you stepped into a field of them.
Your belly made a sort of "pouch" thing since the dress hugged your curves. Your hips were well-defined in the dress, and it actually accentuated the natural waist you had too.
And elder gods have mercy, the legs. Though covered up, it's no secret that you had legs for days under the dress. And Kuai Liang was the lucky man to see, touch, and feel them.
Despite such charming features, you couldn't help but feel defeated with yourself. As you cried silently, trying to slip out of the dress, a knock came on your door.
"Dove, what is the matter?" Kuai Liang's voice reverbs through the door. You sniffle and wipe your face, trying to put up a façade in your voice before answering.
"U-uh, nothing!" you say with a fake, upbeat voice.
Kuai Liang, bless him, knows you're lying. So instead of leaving, you can hear how his body slides down the door and his bum plop onto the ground.
"I am not to move until you let me in, dove," he states, claiming his spot on the (probably dirty) floor. You want to scold him, tell him to get up, but prolonging it will only make it more embarrassing.
Giving in, you open the door and watch as he falls onto his back. He blinks a couple of times before he sees your blurry image in the dress.
Shyly, you hold your elbow as he scrambles to his feet. He's practically drinking the sight of you like a dehydrated survivor. The very image of you in this dress is revitalizing him.
He can't ignore how full your hips and bum look against the dress, or how elongated the dress makes you look. He can't ignore the way your legs naturally crossover on another due to the dress's shape, or how perfect the dress hugs your waist.
Let's not forget the belly, either. His absolute, most favorite part of you was perfectly snug in its place, creating a sort of "pouch" effect. Hreat elder gods, Kuai Liang's patience was truly being tested.
"Oh dove..." Kuai Liang mumbles, walking over to you and taking your hands in his. "Dove, you are stunning."
You nod sadly as you feel on of his hands rest on your cheek, carefully wiping your tears away as you mumble chicken scratch about how the dress looks on you. Whatever you were saying was being ignored- like talking to a brick wall.
"Kuai Liang, love," you say weakly. "I cannot with this dress, it just doesn't sit well on me..."
The pyromancer shakes his head rapidly, like a child throwing a tantrum. He grabs onto your shoulders and spins you around to look at the mirror, and all three reflections stare back at you.
This time, with Kuai Liang present.
"Are you telling me that I'm being lied to?" Kuai Liang's voice booms. "This woman, in the mirror, is not the one I said was most beautiful?"
You nervously shake your head 'no', and Kuai Liang keeps singing your praises.
"I know who I chose as my consort. I know who I chose as the love of my life," Kuai Liang kisses your cheek and grabs your right hand and spreads your fingers out.
"I know who I chose as my future wife."
You turn around, pink and warm on your face, as you smile and hug him.
"You, dove, are the one I want," Kuai Liang assures you. "And no matter what form you choose, I am going to have you no matter what."
You chuckle and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for reminding me, my love." Kuai Liang, instead of responding as usual, begins to close in on you as your back presses against the cold mirror.
"Um, my love?"
Kuai Liang strips the jacket he was trying on before his arms pin you in the jail cell of his chest.
"Perhaps another addition to your reminder," he nips your ear and kisses your neck.
"So that you will not forget again."
=====================
hello kings, queens, and monarchs, hope yall enjoyed this one!
as you saw, i made a rules and masterlist, so please read that before proceeding to do anything regarding this blog
see yall in the next fic!
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kissoulie · 1 month
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒
𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧
— NSFW. tags under the cut!
a/n: kissoulie debut day!! (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠) i wrote all of these for myself mainly but finally decided to post themmmm i wanted to post a full fic for my debut but work is busy :( i don't have enough free time </3 please do read the cws!!! they are very relevant haha my brain went a little wild with jiung so soulseob's are short ☹️ i will feed u soon sho stans u have my word 🙏 i normally don't write for jiung or keeho but the ideas were too inticing 😭
cws: fem reader, petnames (baby, princess, pretty girl), degrading (just once, "whore"), overstim, edging, breeding, daddy kink (kyo), brat taming (kyo), choking (kyo), exaggerated size kink (intak), pregnancy mention lol meandom!theo, dub-con (jiung), slight somno (jiung), squirting (soul), slight degrading, voice kink (seob), please lmk if i missed anything!!!
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brat tamer!keeho who loves your cries of “daddy daddy daddy- slow down, daddy-!” followed by broken moans and whimpers from your swollen lips. he loves how you claw at him, eyes faded from how hard he's choking you, but still sobbing and slicking up more for him to fuck you stupid. he loves how you beg him to let you cum, “please please please daddy, please- can't hold it, please just let me ‘m so close daddy please just let me-” he knows you can't hold it. that's why he smacks your clit to send you over the edge. he loves how your hands try to pull his hips back, but he's determined to ruin the orgasm you don't deserve. it just makes you that much sweeter when he finally lets you cum on his cock.
meandom!theo who won't stick his dick in you until you're a crying overstimulated mess. he’ll use toys on you, stuff his pretty fingers inside you, eat you out until you're pulling on his hair so hard it hurts, but he won't fuck you until you're crying. he loves how your tears soak the pillowcase, how you cling to him like he's the only person left in the entire world. he loves feeling so special to you, to the point where he loses himself in your body when he finally does fuck you. his hips stutter, and he's cumming with a soft “fuck..” before he can stop himself.
best friend!jiung who humps you in your sleep. it’s not his fault you sleep on your stomach, your ass so.. soft and enticing. at first he did it with both your clothes on, but he realized that regardless, if he woke you up you would know what he’s doing to you. so he slowly pulls down your sleep shorts, pushing his dick between your panties and your skin. he snakes a hand under your lower stomach, pressing you to him. at first he doesn’t notice how you slick up for him, but then your hips jolt back to press against him and he’s almost clamoring off of you when he hears your whiny voice, “ji, don’t stop” who is he to deny such a needy, pretty girl? he practically rips your panties off, rubbing himself between your folds, pressing just the tip in as you moan, “‘s so big, ji, ‘s big..” “fuck, princess, that was just the tip,” you’re squeezing around him, pulling him deeper into your tight cunt. he groans, bottoming out in one sharp thrust as he loses control. you yelp, but your eyes roll back and he can feel you squirting around him, “cumming, ji, fuck” he knows you are. his eyes are shut tight as he struggles to hold back, fucking into you deeply and then speeding up. you push back against him, helping him along as he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling how his dick knocks up against it. you keep moaning and creaming all over him, and he loses control, pressed against your cervix as he paints your insides white.
size kink!intak who's so desperate for you. he wants to make love to you so bad, but you're just too small to take him properly. there's always that last couple of inches where he hits a wall, and you're sniffling out his name and holding his hands so sweetly. he can't bear to see you cry. the more he makes love to you the more he wants to breed you. and before he knows it, those last two inches are slipping past your sensitive walls while you cum all over him. you yelp in surprise but he's too far gone, fucking into you while pressing against your tummy, “gonna let me get you pregnant, baby? please- oh fuck, please”
munch!soul who’s obsessed with making you squirt. he spends precious hours between your thighs, flicking his tongue over your sensitive little clit, fingers buried inside your sopping wet cunt. he praises you, too. telling you how pretty you are for him, how good you taste, how much he needs to get his dick inside you when he's done using his mouth. he loves it when you squirt all over his cock, it makes his head empty.
voice kink!jongseob who whispers in your ear to get you off. he won't touch you until he knows you're close from just his voice, whispering filth into your ear. he wants to breed you. he wants to fuck you until you cry for him, until you squirt all over him, until you tell him you love him. that's what he's working you up for. he kisses your sensitive clit, eyes peering up at you innocently while your hiccuped cries turn to sobs. “all this from just my voice, baby? cmon, you know what you have to say so i’ll let you cum.”
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flemingsfreckles · 2 months
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I’ll Look After You
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Synopsis: you and Jessie are still adjusting to life with a baby, Jessie notices that you’ve been struggling more and more recently, until you break.
Warnings: mentions of postpartum depression and anxiety, language
WC: 2.7k
A/N: hi, I haven’t posted in a while, just sort of been struggling, work has kicked my ass, and my motivation has just drained a bit but I’m trying to get back into it.
The first noise Jessie hears after the jingling of her keys in the sound of crying. It’s not an uncommon noise in your household, it’s an everyday, every couple of hours occurrence. But what she notices is the crying isn’t just that of your five month old daughter. She can also tell there’s the sound of an adult crying.
She quickly places the diapers and bag of baby clothes she had purchased on the counter and makes her way to your daughter's room.
She walks into the nursery to a scene that breaks her heart. You’re sitting in the rocking chair, your daughter resting in your lap. You’re both crying, your daughter wailing while you’re sniffling, shoulders shaking while you still try to console the baby in your lap. You looked exhausted.
“Oh my love.” Jessie says rushing to your side. “Let me take her.”
“No!” You snap at Jessie. “She won’t eat, but she’s hungry, that’s her hungry cry. She won’t latch, I can’t help her, but she needs to eat so she needs me.”
Jessie kneels in front of you. Her hands reach out to take your daughter. Already feeling panicked from the hours of crying you’ve sat through and the feeling of failure as a parent, you push Jessie’s hands away. You had been dealing with postpartum anxiety, you knew it and Jessie knew it.
It had started with just not letting your daughter out of your sight. She came with you everywhere, the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, she was always just a few steps away, in every moment you had your eyes on her. Even as she slept you watched her though the baby monitor, hardly ever getting rest yourself. That lasted a for the first few months and then it only became worse.
Then you started having nightmares of terrible things happening to her. That’s when you started not letting her out of your grasp. You no longer brought her out to Jessie’s games. You didn’t let family or friends hold her, everything was a threat to her. You held her constantly, feeling as if any place besides your arms was dangerous to her little life.
This even meant Jessie’s arms. You knew deep down Jessie was safe, she was even more cautious than you were with her, but your anxiety refused to let up when it came to your wife. Any time the baby awoke in the middle of the night, you were up too. Despite Jessie’s insisting you stay in bed, being the first one out of bed to get your daughter, as she’d get up, you’d follow her. You watched Jessie like a hawk when she held your daughter, terrified something would happen. It was all crazy, Jessie was the best partner and parent you could’ve ever imagined but your postpartum brain remained in panic at all times.
“What if she just never eats? She’ll starve, it’ll be all my fault. I just want to help her.” You managed to choke out between cried. Jessie could see the dark circles under you eyes, she knew you hadn’t slept that night and now it was early morning, the exhaustion beginning to take its toll.
“She’s not going to starve babe.” Jessie tried her best to console you. She didn’t know what to do, she felt helpless so many times seeing you stress and worry about your daughter, knowing she could only ease your mind so much.
“She might Jessie! She won’t latch! I can’t fucking feed her. I’m a terrible mom, I can’t even feed her.” You move through anger, yelling at Jessie and your fist hitting the armrest of the rocking chair, to feelings of sadness in an instant, tears falling again.
“You’re not a terrible mom.”
“I can’t protect her. She’s always crying, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I can’t keep her safe.”
“You can keep her safe, you do keep her safe. She cries because she’s a baby, she can’t talk to us, her crying is not an indication of you as a parent.” Jessie’s hands gently caress your shins, trying to help you relax. “Now, can I please hold her?” Jessie brings her arms out again. She knew she had to be patient with you but she also knew you had hit your breaking point. Your lack of sleep, your mood swings, your frustrations, all worried her.
She knew you had been up all night with her. It had taken the two of you a while to get her to fall asleep, and just a short hour later she was up screaming again. You changed her and put her back down, before returning to bed. She had started crying at midnight and you had gone into the nursery, telling Jessie you’d wake her for the next time she cried. Except you hadn’t. You never came back to bed after that wake up. Jessie had heard the crying on her own and made her way into the nursery at 2am. You had sent her back to bed saying you had it covered. Jessie listened, knowing it was smarter and safer to have one rested parent, she also wasn’t interested in making you upset.
Then when Jessie woke up again and noticed you were not next to her, she came to find you. At 4am she found you asleep on the floor next to the crib. She had placed a blanket over you and let you sleep while she made herself coffee. The baby had woken up again at 4:30 and you had been up with her since. Jessie had run to the store to get some necessities, hoping when she got back the two of you would be sleeping again. You had now been awake all night, with only a combined hour of sleep worth of naps to hold you over. Jessie knew she had to take your daughter away from you, you needed sleep. She wanted you safe and she wanted your daughter safe.
You just stare back at Jessie. This was your wife, you trusted her with every bit of yourself, your fears, your accomplishments, you trusted her with your body, with your heart, but for some reason you were terrified to hand her your daughter, the baby she had a hand in making, the baby that was half her, you couldn’t hand her over.
“Babe.” Jessie’s tone was no longer asking politely. “For her safety and more importantly, for your safety, I need you to let me hold her for a bit, you need a break.” Her arms extend once again. She had realized this was getting out of hand, not only did she need to take your daughter in this moment, it was probably time to seek professional help. Jessie made a note to bring that up later with you.
“I don’t need a break, I don’t get a break, I'm her mom!”
“I’m her mom too!” Jessie getting more and more concerned about your own safety starts to snap at you.
Jessie was right, she was her mom too. You look down at your daughter, who is still whimpering. You look at her small face, her little nose, the way her eyes were scrunched and her mouth open crying. It had you tearing up again, seeing how upset she was with no relief thanks to you.
“I couldn’t help her, I changed her, she’s warm enough, she’s burped, I checked her over a hundred times, there's no scrapes or rashes, nothing should bother her. She just is hungry but won’t eat.” That’s when you start feeling your heartbeat in your chest, the whoosh of blood through your ears. You can feel your chest heaving as you try breathing in air.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Jessie’s hands come off your shins and onto your face.
“You’re okay. She’s okay, look at her she’s okay. You’re both okay. I’m going to take her just for a moment, I’ll stay here by you so you can watch. But I’m just going to hold her for a bit.” Jessie drops her hands from your face and gently scoops up your daughter, bringing her to rest on her chest. Your daughter’s head rests on Jessie’s shoulder. Jessie stands up and bounces her lightly, hand running down your daughter’s back trying to soothe the crying.
Jessie extends her other hand out toward you. “Come here, let’s go lay in our bed.”
You look up at Jessie and nod, taking her hand before dropping it. “Two hands on her.” You say, already worrying somehow your daughter will slip from Jessie’s strong grip.
“Okay, two hands.” Jessie shoots you a smile before placing her other hand onto your daughter's back. She follows you out of the nursery across the house and into your bedroom. You watch Jessie as she carefully places her into the bassinet next to the bed.
“There’s nothing in there right? No toys, no blanket, no pillows? Did you check that there isn’t a spider or anything?” It was your paranoia coming back, but you had to ask.
“No babe, just her. There’s nothing that’s going to hurt her in there.” Jessie says looking between you and the bassinet. “She’ll be okay, I’m going to pick her up again in a moment. Let’s get you changed first.”
Jessie took another glance at the bassinet before coming over to where you stood at the end of the bed. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders. “Would you like a shower?” You shake your head, you did but you didn’t have the energy. “New clothes at least? Brush your teeth? Wash your face? What can I help with?”
“I dunno.” You feel on the verge of even more tears, you’d think by now you’d be completely dry. You feel your lip start to tremble again and you bite it trying to hold back the sob ready to fall out.
“Okay, sorry, I gave you too many options. Let’s just get you changed.” Jessie says her hand gently falling to your shirt. “Can I take this one off?” You nod and lift your arms, Jessie gently pulling the shirt over your head. You stand there shirtless as Jessie walks across the room to her own dresser, pulling out one of her old shirts that you frequently stole and would wear to bed. On your way back to where you stood your daughter lets out a cry. You watch as Jessie quickly moves to grab a clean pacifier, placing it into her mouth before coming back over to you.
“Arms up pretty girl.” You do as she asks and she pulls the shirt down over your head. Her hands drop to the shorts you have on. “These off?”
“Ehh she didn’t puke on them, they can stay.” You say. And Jessie’s hands move off of them.
“Okay, in bed.” Jessie walks over flipping back the cover to your side and waiting for you to get in. You climb in and she gently pulls up the covers before walking around to the other side of the bed. She picks up your daughter from the bassinet before she climbs into bed next to you. “Come here.” She pats her side and encourages you to curl into her.
You watch as she holds your daughter, you watch carefully, making sure your daughter's head is supported, her back is in a good position, you watch Jessie, who’s looking between you and your daughter.
“Close your eyes, I’ve got her, she’s okay, if she cries you’ll hear her and wake up.” You lay there for a moment, Jessie was right, she was right next to you, if she cried you’d hear. You’d be able to get up and help in a second's notice. You take one last look at Jessie and your daughter before closing your eyes.
You’re not sure how much time passes when you finally wake up to the sound of your wife talking to your daughter. “Here ya go. This’ll make you feel better.” You blink a few times and see Jessie with your daughter, a bottle in her hand being held up to her mouth.
Your eyebrows squint as you try to take in the image of your daughter eating from a bottle. That was different, it was rare that she ate from a bottle especially when you were home with her, you’d wake up and feed her, there was no need for her to feed from the bottle. It made you upset that Jessie hadn’t woken you, maybe she didn’t trust you to feed her since you had failed earlier. Maybe she thought you were a bad mother.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” You feel Jessie jump, not having realized you were awake and being startled by your voice. “I don’t want her to have formula yet, we talked about it this.” You had been strong in your decision to feed her, Jessie knew that. Bottle feeding her was one thing, but you hadn’t pumped, there wasn’t milk for the bottle, Jessie had to be giving her formula. “You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve fed her.”
You move to sit up, starting to pull your shirt up and reaching for your daughter at the same time. Jessie’s hand gently releases the bottle for a moment before her hand comes down onto yours.
“You are feeding her. It’s not formula, it’s your milk from the freezer. You’re still feeding her.” Jessie says looking at you, her hand returning to hold the bottle to your daughter’s mouth.
“Oh.” You feel stupid, you had frozen milk. Frozen milk you had pumped and saved back when your daughter was first born. She didn’t yet eat enough to use it all, so you had saved it. As she grew she drank more and more and you stopped freezing it. You had completely forgotten. You had forgotten, Jessie hadn’t.
“Go back to sleep love, I’ve got her, well, actually you’ve got her, you’re the one feeding her, I’m just holding the bottle.” Jessie smiles down at you, bringing a hand to run her fingers through your hair. “Close your eyes.”
You feel a sudden rush of emotions again, feeling overwhelmed by the kindness of your wife, who you had been cold to since the anxiety started. “I’m sorry.” You can feel your chest tightening and your vision becomes blurry with tears.
“For what?” Jessie looks down questioning what you could possibly be apologizing for.
“Just everything, I’ve been so mean, and I just, I worry and I can’t let her go, if something happened to her, I don’t think I’d survive. I’m so scared for her, she’s helpless, and I’m her mom so that’s my job and I think sometimes I forget you’re her mom too, and I don’t want to burden you with the responsibility, and I just, I’m not being fair to you.”
“You’re also not being fair to yourself. You’re tired, you’re overwhelmed, I don’t like seeing you like this.
“I know I just can’t help it.” You blinked hard and the tears began to run down your cheeks, Jessie’s finger gently wiping them away.
“I know, it’s not your fault. We’ll talk about this later, just get some sleep honey.”
“Okay.” You sniffle, trying to slow down the crying. “I’m sorry, I love you, you’re a really good mom.”
“Shhhh.” Jessie lets her fingers run through your hair again, trying to soothe you back to sleep. She doesn’t need to hear you apologize for something that was beyond your control, she knew it was all hormones, your brain playing tricks on you. She knows she’s a good mom, she knows you’re a good mom, she doesn’t need your reassurance but it is nice to hear. “I love you. I’ll look after you and her. I’ve got you. Just close your eyes.”
You do, quickly falling asleep with the feeling of Jessie’s fingers in your hair and the sound of her whispering softly to your daughter about the first time you and she met, one of Jessie’s favorite stories to tell. The anxiety and stress wasn’t gone, but for once, with her by your side, it suddenly wasn’t all consuming.
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dilf-din · 3 months
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To be Known (To be Loved)
Frank Castle x f!reader
WC: 2500
Warnings: mentions of blood/gun violence, so much fluff & domestic bliss
Author’s note: so what if I want him to settle down and have a soft life and dote on his girl, don’t worry about it!!
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It’s not that you were clumsy or lacked focus. That was the opposite of true. Nobody had an eye for detail like you. That’s what landed you your job as a crime scene analyst. The FBI even contracted you out from time to time when they did jobs in the city. They did today, actually. And though you had been doing this for years, sometimes it still made your stomach churn. And traffic was a bitch coming home, and you forgot to take the ground beef out of the freezer so you were trying to scrape some kind of meal together, chopping what was left of an onion with a too dull knife, and your hand slipped.
It wasn’t too deep, just a perfect slice into the tip of your pointer finger. It stung in the cold stream of the sink you were quick to plunge it under, your eyes already watering from the bruised onion you had been attempting to dice.
Not a big deal, just slap a bandage on it and remember to ask Frank to bring his kit to sharpen your knife set this weekend.
You sniffled and got back to work, sautéing scraps of leftover chicken with some fresh veggies, adding lemon and white wine and garlic and herbs. The air filled with aromatics and the sound of your 80’s playlist.
The tension that spent it days lodged between your shoulder blades was starting to wear away. All you needed to completely feel at peace was the sound of the key in the lock and boots down the hall.
Frank was a lot of things. Dangerous and safe, rough and gentle, commanding and kind. And he was always on time for dinner. Whether he limped to the door dripping blood or showed up early with a bottle of wine and flowers, he was dependable above all.
You didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know he would be there soon. You could feel it in your cells, like the waiting would be soon over.
AC/DC’s fast guitars faded into REO Speedwagon’s Can’t Fight This Feeling, and you found yourself humming along to the ballad. The opening and closing of drawers and the sizzled of the pans drowned out the quiet thump of boots against wood while Frank paused for a second to admire you, a love drunk smile plastered on his face.
He set a paper bag down on the island behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing warm kisses to your cheek, rough stubble scratching your smooth skin. You relaxed into his embrace, eyes drifting shut for a moment as you leaned against his strong chest and inhaled deeply the lingering smell of pine from his shower this morning.
“How’s my baby girl doin’?” Frank hummed into your neck, pressing a trail of kisses to the exposed skin he could get to with the collar of your shirt in the way.
“Got in a fight today,” you sighed dramatically, holding you hand up so he could see your finger wrapped delicately.
“Baby,” he lamented with equal drama, drawing your hand to his mouth to lavish in kisses.
“I’ll kill the guy,” he said sincerely, baby browns boring into yours, holding your hand to his cheek with a tender grip around your wrist.
“He’s in the sink,” you gestured over your shoulder, “If you can remember to sharpen him and his friends this weekend.”
“Course baby doll. Smells good in here,” he peeked over your shoulder at the pans simmering on the stove, “I brought dessert. Cannolis from Tony’s,”
“You’re too good to me,” you clasped your hands over your heart.
It was Friday, which meant Frank was home for the weekend.
His boots by your bed. His body next to yours. Breakfast together and movies on the couch and unlimited snuggles.
“You look tense, everything okay?” he queried as he brought his broad hands up to work out the knots in your shoulders.
“Just a long week,” you shook your head, “All I want is to take a long shower later.”
“I’ll clean up after,” he kissed your cheek once more and gave your shoulders a squeeze before setting off to find something to keep him busy.
He was always tightening screws and changing lightbulbs and air filters, doing whatever he could to make your life easier. Sometimes, on particularly hard weeks, you would unplug your router and call him to come tinker with your internet. Any big or small gesture he could give you, he would jump through hoops to do. You had never felt as secure or adored in any relationship before Frank.
After dinner, and of course your favorite dessert, Frank set off to clean the dishes so you could hop in the shower.
The shower took a few minutes to heat up, so you took your time removing your necklace and the makeup you sported to work. Your cheeks puffed from the scrubbing, and steam was starting to paint the edges of the mirror in front of you.
The last thing you did was peel off the bandage on your finger. The skin was still split badly, deep purple peeking out from under it. It would hurt for a few more days at least, you reasoned.
You left a pile of clothes in front of the mirror, and stepped behind the glass wall of your shower. Another shitty Friday in the books. This would be sure to wash away at least some of your woes.
Your neck turned under the hot stream, letting the water distribute over your hair, and only when you reached up to run your fingers through it were you met with sharp pain.
You hissed and quickly retracted your hand, “Shit.”
The force of the water was like a hundred small knives driving into the exposed nerves. The pain burned hotter than it did when you cut it.
Tentatively, you placed it back in the stream to see if it just needed a second to adjust, but were met with the same intense pain.
You choked down a sob. It was silly, really. When you thought about the loss you saw today and the blood stained carpet, the empty seat at someone’s table tonight, it was ridiculous to be this upset over a shower.
All you wanted was to wash away someone else’s pain and move on with your life, and you started feeling selfish. Words of self ridicule started ringing in your ears, and you pressed your forehead against the cool tile wall, crying softly, willing yourself to pull it together.
You heard the shuffle of Frank entering the adjacent room to sit on the edge of the bed and tug his boots off, thud of his gun on your nightstand, and the unbuckling of his belt.
“Somethin’ wrong?” his low voice rumbled over the running water.
“I can’t wash my hair,” you admitted pathetically, sniffling from the corner, “It stings so bad.”
“You’ve sewed yourself up with no anesthesia and gunshot wounds and I’m sitting here crying about a little cut,” you continued.
You heard the pad of Frank’s feet on the tile as he stepped into the shower and wrapped himself around your wet frame.
“I don’t expect you to be tough as nails, sweetheart,” he murmured into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there, “I love that you’re so tender. You’re too good for all this shit. Stay that way.”
He cradled the sides of your head with two strong hands and turned you to face him, catching your mouth in a long kiss. Frank kissed like he was a starving man and you were the first food he had seen in days. It was enough to make your stomach flutter.
He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before gathering your hair into the water and raking his wide fingers through it.
“What are you doing?” you asked with red eyes.
“My girl said she wanted a shower,” his voice came out husky. Brow furrowed with concentration, he smoothed water through every strand, cradling your scalp so gently.
Overcome with emotion, you tucked your forehead into the safety of his neck, nuzzling your nose against his throat as he worked the tangles out of your hair.
The same hands that had snapped necks and pulled triggers were lathering your hair in shampoo and holding your hips close to his.
Your hands wandered his arms and back, grazing over scars and wondering how he got so lucky every time. He must’ve had one hell of a guardian angel. Whatever it was, you felt equally lucky to be here with him, to be his.
The two of you stayed mostly silent. Frank asking the occasional question.
“‘S’that hurt? Is this okay?”
When he finished with your hair, you stepped out of the way so he could quickly wash himself off, reaching for the shampoo you kept on the shelf for him.
Sometimes when he was gone for days at a time, you would wash with his soap and sleep wrapped up in one of his shirts.
Frank drew you into his embrace once more, and you rested easily against his chest with warm water creating pools and streams over the shape of your bodies together.
“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured.
“I couldn’t,” he said dryly, “My back is killing me.”
“Let’s go lay down, old man,” you teased, reaching to turn the water off.
“Alright smartass,” he laughed with one of his crooked half smiles, following you out of the shower and pinching your ass, eliciting a yelp.
Frank pulled on a pair of joggers and perched on the counter watching as you towel dried your hair. He leaned slightly forward with his hands curled under the edge of the counter. The muscles in his arms and chest were perfectly sculpted, glistening under a light layer of condensation while the steam filtered out of the bathroom.
You chose one of Frank’s black tee shirts and a pair of old cotton undies.
Frank waited patiently while you dabbed on a few creams and moisturizers, fussing with your hair and examining the split ends.
“Beautiful,” he hummed, leaning into your space to steal a quick kiss.
“Almost done,” you reassured, raking a cream through your hair.
“Take your time. I’m enjoying the view,” he smirked, craning his neck to take a peek at your ass while you leaned forward into the mirror.
“Perv,” you teased.
“Only for you, baby,” he smiled.
It was autumn in New York. The sun set quicker and quicker each night. Lazy orange light colored your room with flashes of brown and crimson leaves just outside the window. On your nightstand burned a cinnamon candle, and the rest of the lights were dimmed to set a warm mood. The sun and flickering flame cast wispy shadows on the wall.
On the tv across from your bed, there was a Great British Bake Off marathon playing with the volume low. Frank had pretended not to be interested at first, but it wasn’t long before he was criticizing cakes alongside you. It was something you could both agree on as background noise.
Frank sat straight with his back against the headboard, and you nestled between his legs leaning against his chest.
Callused fingers ran up and down your arms, toying with your hands and occasionally slipping in your sleeve to caress your shoulders. Physical touch was one of your chief love languages, and Frank was fluent. He had spent enough of his life alone and longing that when you were together, he indulged in every touch and kiss.
A deep exhale parted your lips and he shifted slightly.
“Is somethin’ else botherin’ you?” he asked after a considerable length of silence.
You didn’t know how to answer.
“Just seems like more than a cut finger got you in a funk today,” he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, pressing half a kiss there.
“I don’t want to bring work home with me,” you clamped your eyes shut and buried the side of your face into his chest.
“I come home caked in the shit I deal with every day, and not once have you made me feel like it’s an issue to you. You can talk to me,” he said matter of factly at first, but his tone softened into a gentle pleading.
Let me in.
You drew in a shaky breath.
“It was another homicide today. Guy killed his girlfriend. Don’t know why. Shot her in the stomach four times. She was dead when we got there, but her face,” you trailed off, “I’ve just never seen someone look so afraid. I don’t know if he was there when she died, or if she was alone, or what’s sadder.”
He sat in silence, intently listening.
“I know you see this kind of stuff every day, but it still gets to me,” a tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly swiped it with the back of your hand.
“Hey, hey,” he said softly, tugging at your shoulder to turn you towards him.
You swung a leg around so you were straddling him, your hands toyed with the chain around his neck.
“Baby, the people I see are bad people. People like your guy that got away today. Seeing the other side always hurts. You’re not weak for that,” he hummed. A strong hand cupped your cheek and turned your head slightly up to look him in the eyes.
“I’m sorry that happened,” he whispered. His brown eyes were overflowing with sincerity.
You wondered how one man could contain such wild contradictions. Gentleness and violence didn’t often walk hand in hand, but they did when Frank Castle was around.
His voice was like gravel and velvet. His kisses were both hungry and adoring.
With one hand on your face, his other rested at your waist, balling up the tee shirt and rubbing circles against your hipbone with his knuckles.
“You’re good at what you do. ‘S’okay that it weighs on you.”
“You too,” you countered softly, and you saw another level of defense in his eyes melt away, the corners of them softening almost imperceptibly.
“C’mere,” he pulled you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his bare chest burned through the thin barrier of his shirt across your frame. His arms felt like a fortress around you. You had never been afraid since he came into your life.
“You’re my peace, you know that? None of the rest of that bullshit matters to me. This is what matters,” he murmured softly into your ear.
You pushed lightly off his chest to look him in the eye once more, “You’re really sweet, you know that?”
He scoffed and turned his head with a shy grin, pink creeping into his cheeks, “Don’t go around tellin’ people that. Ruin my street cred,” he laughed lightly.
His heart drummed steadily beneath your hand. He made it another week and so did you. And you would keep making, you had vowed. For moments like this.
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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 months
Text
Kintsugi  金繕い [Spencer x Reader]
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Photo credits Left (@mon-petit-coeur-noir) Center (@whoisspence) Right (@shakespearesdaughters)
Prompt: When the reader gets kidnapped for being friends with Spencer, she is mentally tormented to get back at Reid, and the reader and team, especially Spencer,  have to find a way to communicate before it’s too late for her to make it out alive. 
Pairing: Spencer x BAU-Fem!reader, Nerdy!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending] 
Word Count: 15K
Content Warnings: Mention of death and sexual assault, mention of blood, mental torment [threat of assault, being unclothed, forced partial blindness - eyes glued open, forced partial deafness - loud music is played, degrading comments (reader)], physical harm [being cut with a knife, being put in a feezing unit, being beaten (reader)], distress, mentions of hospitals. If I missed any please let me know. 
A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! If you are a student on Summer break I hope you are having fun and relaxing! As always, I return with a novel of a Spencer story. This story was requested by an Anon, thank you so much, and I hope you like it! I do throw in a few Star Trek and literary references in this fic, but I try and explain them well. My requests are open, so feel free to request a fic from me if you like anytime! I do want to encourage you to read the tags as this is a bit dark for me (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see part two of the reader’s healing process with Spencer, let me know. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️
List with all stories 
y/n = your name 
y/c/h = your color hair 
y/l/n = your last name 
t/c/s = tea/coffee/soda 
y/n’s head was pounding. It was throbbing with pain and the hard floor and air itself seemed frigid. y/n clutched her sides and rubbed. She was grateful that their clothes were still on. Given the unsub the team was dealing with, it wasn’t what y/n had expected. But then again, the man the BAU had been trying to find in the last week had been full of surprises. He didn’t fit the early profile the team had created, and now y/n was alone and scared, but she pulled together her strength and courage and opened her eyes. This was her job and she’d been doing it for a year. She’d seen team members taken, and harmed, and sometimes almost died, but if there was one thing y/n knew about the BAU, it was that they cared for each other. Everyone on the team would be looking for her. They wouldn��t leave a stone unturned until they found her. That was what had drawn y/n to the Unit in the first place. 
The BAU had done a joint operation with y/n’s Counterterrorism team where they were the unofficial data specialist and literary nerd. As soon as Derek had seen y/n and Reid together, he looked at Emily and said, “Well, this is going to be trouble,” to which both agents looked up and said in unison, “What?” It was during that case that Spencer had been in danger, and y/n was a bit too. Spencer had put himself in harm's way to ensure she was okay. Just seeing how the BAU responded with more than just professionalism, but also with care had sealed y/n into wanting a transfer. It wasn’t for another two years before that became a possibility. There was some issue with the documents that she had mailed to the Quanitco office, eventually, she sent fresh ones and drove them down herself. 
It was that knowledge, that the team was looking, at that filled y/n with warmth and shared determination. She opened her eyes and realized why she was so cold. From the looks of things, the white cement floor, the fluorescent lighting, and the crusted blood on the ground, y/n was in a meat packing plant. She sniffled and rubbed her shivering torso as she opened her eyes and sat up. There were conveyor belts on the far side of the wall, along with sharp meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. This setting would make sense given that the bodies of the three victims that had the team come down in the first place had seemed very fresh, even though they had passed a few weeks ago. The thought of the women and what the unsub had done to them and their bodies made y/n want to vomit. 
They had been killed excruciatingly. Not only had they been tortured, but they’d been assaulted as well. With this in mind, and possibly in her future, y/n moved away from the dried blood on the floor, not sure who or what it was from. y/n wondered how long the man kept his victims alive. The team had hypothesized that he was a sadist and loved long drawn out kills, to watch the victims suffer. The unsub had a type, and y/n fell into it. There was a sound at the far side of the room, and y/n moved to the center of the space. There was no point in cowering in the corner. She decided to face the unsub head-on. Show no fear, even if she was filled with it to the brim. The man’s outline filled the door making it unable for her to see him, but y/n knew that would change soon enough. 
As y/n waited to test wits with the man in front of her, the rest of the BAU, many miles away had set up a tent at the Kansas State Fair. Their team tent looked much less adorned than those of the food and game vendors with their bright colors and light. The satellite pop-up of the BAU and police presence were needed to gather information and vet the people leaving the fair since y/n had been taken. Their tent was on the far side of the fair. It would be unassuming if there weren’t loads of cops, police cars, state troopers cars, and a SWAT team all moving in and out of the space. Aaron and Rossi were heading up the operation and working through the bureaucratic tape and interdepartmental things that would otherwise slow the team down. There was a tension in the air that permeated each member of the BAU. It was palpable with all of them, but with Spencer, it was coming off him wave after wave. The lithe agent was with Emily and Derek, walking through the empty mirror house where y/n had been abducted. As Reid, Em, and Morgan move through each cranny and trick door for guests and employees. He caught his reflection in mirror after mirror and it all felt like a sick joke. Reid was absorbed in his own reflection for a moment before he heard Derek’s voice cut through his brain fog. Spencer snapped up and moved toward his friend's voice. Emily and Morgan were kneeling down next to an employee entrance. Reid was upset and angry, and the sight of a blood stain on the bright floor along with a few strands of y/n’s y/c/h should have made him feel good, but the blood only meant that y/n was already hurt, and probably being hurt more at this point made his stomach churn. 
Emily looked at Spencer’s serious face and re-asked “Can we get a blood sample vial, Spence?” The question finally registered with Reid and he replied sharply, “I’ll do it. Can you just step aside a bit?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He knew that Spencer had a thing for y/n. Everyone on the team did except, infuriatingly, the pining agents themselves. But that didn’t give Spencer a reason to be hot at them. Morgan replied, “Easy Spence. We’re doing everything we can.” Spencer couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Well not enough to keep her safe when she was with you both.” At that statement, both Prentiss and Derek stood and looked at Spencer disappointingly, like a child who had said a naughty word they had been told not to say. They both moved back and their physical reactions made Spencer drop his head in shame. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and said to the floor, “I’m sorry.” He was trying to hold back all the emotions. Emotions he often didn’t let himself feel. He looked up at his friends and continued, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think I know how to deal with this. I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything, and you both care about y/n as much as I do. I let my emotions get away from me.” 
Morgan and Emily looked at each other as Reid said that they both liked y/n as much as he did, knowing it wasn’t true. Yes, they both loved y/n, but not like Spencer, and that realization justified Reid's words for them. They both moved forward. Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a firm squeeze, and said, “It’s okay, kid. Now, have you got that vial Em needs?” Reid released a relieved breath, pulled a sample kit out of his shoulder bag, and handed it over to Emily who was back on her knees near the evidence. As she began taking the sample, Morgan and Spencer moved down the narrow trap door to see where it led and to see if there were more clues about the unsub or y/n’s location. 
As the duo moved down the narrow hallway, it became apparent that y/n must have been unconscious or tightly bound as she was being taken away by the unsub. There would have been more of a struggle on y/n’s part if she’d been awake or free, but none of the boxes or supplies for the House of Mirrors seemed to be broken or messed up. Derek didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing, and Reid’s mind was moving too fast, even he couldn’t keep up with it. He knew the team needed to find all of the physical evidence first, to vet the guests and vendors that were leaving for information, but that could be a slow process and all Spener wanted to do was use his full brain power to think about the victimology, update the profile, make a map pinpointing the locations of the victims, but this process had to be done first. The team was a member short, and they all knew the police weren’t helpful in situations like this, so Reid sucked it up and kept moving beside Morgan, trying desperately to still his brain for once. 
Back in the freezer, y/n looked as the mountain of a man came into view. He looked disheveled and red-faced. He wore jeans and a button-down T-shirt. y/n looked at him. She wanted him to make the first move, to understand him better -- his ticks, any weaknesses he had. Anything she could use against him. Force wasn’t an option right now, but she had her mind, and that was worth a lot. The unsub grinned and said, “This will be fun. You’re prettier than I expected. That look of fear on your face, he’s going to love that.” y/n swallowed and replied, “‘He?’ Don’t you mean you. You’re the one taking and killing the woman. And thanks for the compliment.” The man chuckled and said, “You have a mouth on you alright, just like I expected. Of course, he’d like you the little bitch. And who he is doesn’t matter. For now at least. But it will be fun. Not for you of course, but for me it will be. I’ll get so, so very much pleasure from you. I just didn’t expect you to be so cute. It’s a shame, really.” 
y/n frowned. She couldn’t tell if this was dissociation or multiple personalities, but the constant mention of her looks and another person was odd. There hadn’t been any signs of a second unsub, nor was there any other DNA evidence on the victims. As the man made a fast step toward y/n, she moved away from him. This only had the unsub smile and laugh as he moved toward y/n again and said, “You can’t run away from me little bird. You’re only going to make it worse on yourself.” y/n stopped at that. y/n stopped immediately. She swallowed thickly. If she was someone else, like Hotch, Morgan, or Spencer who had the presence and size to act brave in a physical altercation she would bluster and make herself big and threatening. But y/n wasn’t them and didn’t take risks like they did. Firstly, because even y/n assumed Morgan would be physically intimidated by the man’s size and bulk, secondly, y/n was still new to the BAU. Not that she hadn’t picked things up quickly or was good at the job, but it was still more difficult for her to pick up small tells or things like Reid or Emily could. Plus, it wouldn’t help her in signaling the team in some way if the first thing that happened to her was to be fully incapacitated. 
The unsub noticed her submissive posture and liked it saying, “That’s it little bird, now I need you to get out of your things.” y/n looked up at him, biting her lip asking, “Why? What happened to the bird when it gets defeathered, defrocked?” y/n knew what to expect next, assault was part of this man’s MO and if she could postpone that, she sure as hell would. The man laughed again, harsh and cruel, like he was in on a joke that she wasn’t. The man replied, “I’m not going to break you like the others. I could, and I will if you give me too much bratty attitude, but that’s not the plan. All of that other shit with the women and how I treated them, that was to get your attention. Their attention. And I don't think physically breaking you would hurt him either, but don’t test me. However, for now, just take off your clothes and I won’t touch you, that way.” 
y/n didn’t look forward to being undressed in front of anyone. It was uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable with their body like that, even with close friends like Penelope and JJ. In fact, a memory of Emily trying to get her to buy a more revealing swimsuit for the summer popped into her mind and the coaxing it took for y/n to finally buy and wear the skimpy swimwear. Of course, Spencer’s attempt to not look over her body with rapt attention had made the discomfort worth it. When the unsub grabbed at her shirt, y/n began undoing the button of her shirt. It took longer than she expected as her hands shook with cold and fear. y/n expected the man to ask her to move faster, but he didn’t. Again, he seemed to have a sick enjoyment of watching her cower. y/n took this opportunity to think and think fast. The man had said he was trying to get the team's attention. Not only the team’s attention but ‘his’ attention. So that narrowed it down to four people. That was something to go off of. Second, this unsub was someone y/n would have remembered if she’d dealt with him before, but she didn’t, so he was someone from before her time. This was some kind of lesson. There was only a small glimmer of hope that y/n had for her health, both physical and mental because if the unsub wanted to break a member of the team through her, it was going to take more than just taking them captive and keeping them in a poorly regulated freezing unit. 
At this point, y/n was down to her undergarments, and she wondered how pushing the man would be. How quickly he would react, and with how much force? There was only one way of finding out, and she intended to know this early on. This way she could better gauge her actions and submissiveness. If that turned out to be a thing he liked, then she could use it as a small way of gaining control later. So y/n stopped when she stepped out of her pants, and the man quickly changed his demeanor saying, “Don’t stop now. I may not be interested in you, but I know he is, and it’s no good if we’re keeping this at a PG-13, scary movie rating. I need this to be the unrated version birdie, so get out of those panties and bra.” y/n now knew that the man’s emotions were volatile and could change on a dime. That was all she needed to know to get out of her last things. The cold chilled y/n further now that she was nude. 
y/n couldn’t stop herself as she moved her hands to cover her nudity. The unsub bent down not even noticing her discomfort as he picked up her undergarments and examined them to an odd degree muttering, “Do you think he knows you match your bra to your panties? Because he will soon enough.” y/n stepped back, slowly onto one of the patches of dried blood which made y/n cringe. The serious ‘he’ was back and the expression of rage on the man’s face was so intense that y/n wanted to run to the door to try and escape. Whatever this man who had supposedly wronged the unsub, there was a vitriolic rage for him simmering underneath the surface. Before y/n even had the chance to fully think through making a run for it, the man stood up and whipped his hand over y/n’s face so hard that the blow threw her back and into one of the metal supports of the conveyor belts. 
The pain in the side of y/n’s face shocked her into stillness as her jaw clicked oddly and she grunted in pain. Again, before y/n could react, the unsub was on her again. He kicked her torso, legs, and face with the steel tips of his boots breaking the skin every time another blow landed on her prone body. Along with the damage to her front, every time the man’s foot met y/n’s bare flesh, her back was pushed back and harder into the sharp corner of the convey belt. y/n quickly figured out that the unsub was being fast and efficient. When she looked up at his face, he seemed bored as he landed each kick. There was a callous disinterest in what he was doing. He seemed to not be affected at all by what was happening to his victim. Due to this y/n began planning accordingly. Shifting her position slightly so the blows landed on a more padded part of her body, and along with giving her lower back a break by shifting the hits to her lower shoulders, this meant her breasts getting hit, which was not pleasant in the least, but it was somewhere new, and somewhere padded by a bit more. 
y/n felt jostled to the core and rattled to the bone. The pain she was experiencing was blinding and she couldn’t think about much more than trying to protect her face and groin, both of which got hit anyway. What felt like an eternity’s worth of blows ended as soon as it began, and all y/n could do was lie on the ground and grit her teeth against the pain. Her attempt to stay strong physically and mentally was already being tested, but she refused to lick her wounds in front of her captor. If this was about being broken, then she wasn’t yet. The unsub knelt with a grunt and jerked y/n’s face up and into the light, looking at the bruising on her face examining her like a piece of meat for consumption. Something about her battered appearance didn’t suit his liking and he said like a painter finishing a masterpiece, “Just a bit more, right there.” His large stubby pointer finger gesticulated at her lower face and he gripped her hair more tightly and rammed her head onto the floor splitting her lip and jarring her jaw again. 
With that, the man dropped y/n’s face, stood, and walked straight out of the room. Just for the fun of it, he kept the door open for three minutes as he watched y/n turn onto her side to find any place that was comfortable enough to breathe. y/n looked at the open door and the look of delight on the man’s face as he stood by the entrance, and y/n realized that this was going to be her form of torment, an option in view but not accessible. When the large metal door finally swung shut and was locked from the outside, y/n closed her eyes and tried to use her brain. There would be time to assess her physical damage later, for now, she could use one thing that she had. She made mental notes: that the unsub walked with a limp, that he had a New York accent, that he wasn’t over fifty years old. He also had a large size footprint to match his large stature. He also had a mermaid tattoo on his left ankle. Next, she thought about his mental patterns. He was volatile and not afraid to cause harm, but he took no pleasure in doing so to her. It was about a certain result. He had also said that he had only killed those other women, and eviscerated them, to get a man on the team's attention. y/n could work with that. Try and use that to her advantage. If only she could find out who the man was. As the pain took y/n over, and her brain shut down to the basic feeling of hurt and cold, y/n’s mind turned to Spencer. How I must have looked at the moment. Stressed, tired, on edge. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, even if it was for her. She wished she could pull him into a hug and say “It’s alright Spence. I’m holding on. I promise.” The last sentence would stay silent, but he’d know. Because he always knew her. And with that thought, y/n closed her eyes, curled in on herself, and attempted to rest. 
The night was not pleasant for anyone but the unsub. But even Moore Eiarty, the unsub, was worried that his plan wouldn’t succeed, That he couldn’t break the genius of Spencer Reid. But all the pieces were finally in place, and now it was time to play. As the team finally got through vetting the people in the park, they got back to work. The main thing they had to go off of was that one of the performers, the Giant Man, was missing. He’d been added last minute to the tour and there had barely been time to get his paperwork in order before the Kansas Fair began. And it wasn’t until that evening that they discovered that the man, Mr. M. Earity, had very well-forged documents. Not just one, but all of them. That gave Penelope a lot to work on while the team took the angle of victimology and reworked the profile. The BAU had moved back to the police precinct except for Derek and Rossi. Spencer knew that Morgan was taking this especially hard because y/n had been taken while she was with him, but Spence’s head was too full of ideas and concerns to worry about how the others felt right now. 
Aaron watched the team do what the team did. Perhaps they were working a bit more hectically than normal, but this was one of their own on the line and Hotch would rather die before he stopped working to get y/n back. As he looked at Spencer, writing on over seven whiteboards with three coffees on the table, he considered that Reid might also die if they didn’t find y/n soon. That thought sat with the Unit Chief, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later. This felt especially pertinent to this case, though he didn’t know why yet. Nothing much came in terms of developments for a few hours. JJ released a statement for the press, Derek and Rossi returned to the team, and the Fair was shut down for legal safety. The tip line ran nonstop and everyone felt the weight of time. It wasn’t until 3:00 AM that the first real forward momentum was given to the team, and target to Spencer specifically. 
It came in the form of an email from an unlisted account. It was labeled Urgent Dr. Reid - Re:y/n, y/l/n. Spencer looked at the email and decided to open it. He was tired, and his brain was beginning to numb at all the stimuli that were assaulting his mind. What he saw once he opened that email made him drop his coffee and whip his hand over his mouth in horror. Aaron and Emily were in the room with Spencer, and they both noticed their colleague’s distress. Prentiss moved to Reid’s side and looked at the laptop as well. Her mouth went slack and she whispered, “Oh my God. H-hotch…” It didn’t take Aaron more than four strides to see what had both of these friends looking like they were going to be sick. As soon as he saw the first picture of y/n, naked, heavily bruised and bloody, and head down he knew why Reid and Em had reacted as they had. y/n’s hands were forced above her head with zip ties and strung to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The position she was in had her knees barely brushing the floor which meant that all of her weight was in her wrists, elbows, and shoulders.
y/n wore a pained expression, and Hotch’s eyes darted up for a second out of proprietary. He didn’t want to have to see y/n undressed. To be forced into such a humiliating position and know others, people she trusted, would see it made Aaron pause. It hurt. He composed himself and said as professionally as he could, “We need this on the big screen. Em, can you get on that? Reid, is there any text in the body?” Prentiss and Spencer came back to themselves, though it took Spence a moment longer, and they registered their Leader’s questions. Emily nodded and moved to pull down the projector in the room and pushed some of the whiteboards Reid had been using aside; meanwhile, Reid scrolled past the 25 attached photos to where there was some text. He read it in a millisecond and said, “Yes there is. I’ll get Gacia on Zoom while you get the rest of the team in here.” Hotch nodded and took one more second to look at Spencer to see if he was okay. This was targeted at him, which was both a good and a bad thing, but right now, the smartest member of the team looked determined to get to the bottom of this, so Hotch moved to the door to get everyone else into the conference room. 
After the team looked at all of the photos and the attached email, they split into smaller sub-groups to work more efficiently. Aaron and Emily agreed to look at all of the images with a more critical eye. They would break down every angle and shot and bruise on y/n’s body. The one positive thing that the pictures did show was that y/n was alive. Or at least she had been, and given the unsub’s propensity to draw out his kills, there was a good chance that y/n was still alive. The time stamp on the email had been from only a half hour ago and didn’t appear altered. Hotch assigned Spencer and JJ to look at the body of the email. He gave this task to Spencer so he could do something he excelled at. He was the best linguist and forensic document analyst in the FBI after all. JJ was also excellent at identifying patterns in writing and could help Spencer. It also gave Reid an out for not having to look at y/n’s prone and exposed body. 
Aaron as the leader took that burden of looking at y/n with Emily because Prentiss was also very good at compartmentalizing her emotions related to her friendships and the job. Derek was working with Garcia, who was on overdrive to find the source of the email and pin down a location along with about ten thousand other things. She’d gone as far as calling in Janet, another Technical analyst at Quantico to come and help her because two computer processors and brains were always better than one. Lastly, Rossi coordinated with the police on-the-ground operation of searching for y/n. Even though a lot of moving pieces were happening at the same time, the BAU did what it always did -- work with excellence and as a team. Aaron looked at his team for a moment, proud of them. He was worried about Spencer, who was more on edge than normal. Hotch turned his eyes back to the screen, he’d check in on the genius in a few hours, for now, he had a difficult job to do. 
After a few hours that slipped by like grains of sand in an open palm, the team had discovered a few things. The first thing that Spencer and JJ broke down was the email which read: 
I have waited for a long time to get this opportunity. While I have watched you all, the most famous and infamous team in the FBI, I have been looking at one of you in particular. I wonder if you know who you are yet? Let me give you a hint. Last I saw you, you were just a child not even weaned on crimes or violence. Do you know now? Estranged from your friend, I wonder if you’re floundering like I have been before because of you. Sorry if this is all a bit obtuse, but this is fun, and I’m going to draw it out for you. Try not to get too excited yet, the best is yet to come. Rest assured that your friend will face the consequences of knowing you so well. Only when I see you so ruined as I have been ruined will I be happy. Yesterday you were so determined to catch me, do you feel that way now, or are you feeling the fear in your veins? You can find me eventually, but not before I find you. Other things may happen too. Under my control, I may make y/n do anything I want. Don’t worry though, I don’t have plans like I had for the others, this is different. Ready now. Ready now. Enough of waiting for you, and this moment. I’d start praying for y/n, and you, my friend. Dare we should meet in person and you’ll see what I’ve done to her and you’ll finally taste my revenge. 
It didn’t take Spencer more than a minute to read the ‘secret message of’ I will destroy you, Dr. Reid, in the unsubs email. He almost laughed at the grandiose nature of the writing. JJ then pointed out that y/n wasn’t even mentioned until the end of the rambling message. This told the team that this kidnapping was all about Spencer, as it was clear from the email, and had little to do with y/n. That y/n was being used as a tool to get at Reid. Of course, the pictures of y/n who was bruised heavily all over her body, showed that the unsub was still willing to inflict serious bodily harm on her. But this fact made Emily and JJ feel slightly better. 
Spencer had come up with at least seventeen facts, grammatical patterns, and hints at a personality based on egomania. After Reid had said about five of them in the span of a few minutes, Derek gave him a look and Spencer stopped talking. Aaron and Emily then broke down the patterns of bruising and how the depth of the day-old bruising was likely from one sustained moment in time. That there didn’t seem to be layer upon layer of bruising on y/n’s body. Also, from the look of it, there didn’t seem to be any sign of sexual assault. Hotch had caught onto the dark red-rimmed circles under y/n’s eyes, indicating that she hadn’t slept much if at all since she had been taken nearly twenty-four hours ago. It was also pretty easy for Aaron to tell that y/n was being kept in some kind of industrial freezing unit. This was concerning as staying anytime long-term in such a cold space could lead to frostbite and long-term nerve damage. 
After the team had gone through the information and made a start at a new profile that focused mostly on the unsubs' hatred for Spencer, this put even more pressure on Spence. The rest of the team took a small break to just breathe or step outside or get a drink of the bad coffee from the office breakroom, Reid stayed behind and furiously wrote in his notepad and looked at the photos of y/n while biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he broke the soft pink skin. Spencer turned off the bright light to let his eyes and at least his occipital cortex have a break. The rest of his body was working pell mill. Derek moved back to the room ten minutes later and Spencer was leaning, his hands forward, and head bowed toward the wooden table. He looked like he might collapse. Morgan could see his friend’s outline backlit against the brightness of the screen. He looked frailer than normal, skinnier than his usual tall body. Derek knew this was hard for Spencer because it was y/n who had been taken, and it was because of him. Even if Spencer hadn’t realized he had feelings for y/n yet, he still felt the weight of what was happening to her because of him. Morgan entered the room with a cup of coffee and said gently, “Spencer, I brought you some coffee.” Reid hummed softly like he hadn’t really heard Morgan and Derek said, “Reid,” a bit louder. Spencer’s head shot up and toward Derek and his hands gripped the side of the table harder, knuckles turning white. Spencer snapped a “What?” at Morgan before taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders. Morgan didn’t mind Spence’s tone now. It made sense. 
Derek moved into the room and said, “I brought you some coffee. Maybe we could step outside for a minute? Get some fresh air?” Reid dropped his head again and he said mournfully, “I can’t rest right now. I have to figure out who has y/n.  I don’t know who the unsub is, but they know me and I don’t want y/n to have to pay the price for that.” Derek sighed and replied, “Spence, y/n would never blame you for being her friend, for being someone special to her.” Reid sniffled and replied, “She won’t thank me if she’s dead and neither will I.” Spencer’s voice broke off halfway through his last sentence. Morgan stepped forward and placed his hand on Reid’s shoulder. He gave is a gentle squeeze and replied, “Well thinking like that isn’t going to save her. And you need that super processor of a brain of yours to cool off before it shuts down on it’s own. And y/n is a tough cookie, she’s going to make it Reid. If there’s anyone who can find her, it’s you. And if you start letting this guy get to your head, then he’s already won. And we don’t let fuckers like that win. I know y/n sure as shit won’t thank you for that. Now let's go outside.” Spence allowed himself to be led out of the dark room, and Morgan closed the door behind them. 
y/n was beyond tired, she dozed off on and off as she lay in the corner of the room. She was too sore to move around. She did take a look at her surroundings every time she woke abruptly from an unknown sound. She’d look for the man who called himself Mr. M., or to shift from side to side to try and increase her circulation and shift the pain to a new place if that was possible. Much to Mr. M.’s credit, he didn’t seem to enjoy stringing y/n up to the ceiling and he’d taken her down as soon he’d finished taking what seemed like an endless stream of photos. He’d positioned her more like a clay statue looking at angles and composition than as if she was a human in pain. This gave y/n an indication that he might be a sociopath given that he seemed immune to her pained sounds as he adjusted her body again and again. He’d muttered “He’s going to love these. To see what I’ve made of you so far.” y/n opted to stay silent. To see if she could get any more information from the man, but he didn’t do much more than complain about the lighting and make comments about the ‘he’ in question. y/n highly considered that the male member of the team could be Rossi or Aaron, whom Mr. M was muttering on about. M seemed to address this person with such dignified authority that would fit those two people on the team. But that didn’t make sense, as y/n didn’t think Hotch or Rossi held her in any higher standard than the rest of the BAU. Yes, she respected Aaron as a leader and he respected her back. And surely he was beating himself up for not looking out for her, but it didn’t seem to fit with the rage that M felt toward this person. 
It seemed even more outlandish for the ‘he’ to be Rossi. Rossi was like a father figure to y/n. He had helped her really learn the ropes of the team and cases. Especially the paperwork after a case was finished, but if Mr. M wanted to hurt Rossi, he’d surely know to find one of his Ex-wives or someone closer to Dave. It was the odd reverence that the unsub continued using that threw y/n off of the real person he was targeting. The next interaction that y/n had with the man would clear things up for her significantly, and give her an option to use her brain to help the team find her. 
Mr. M came back sooner than y/n had wished. Her exhaustion and numbness made not only her body weak but her brain slow. When she saw that he was holding her underwear and a knife, she sat up and crawled back against the wall clumsily, not liking that combination of objects together. The man snorted and said, “Trying to fly away bird, I’m going to clip your wings if you do that too much. Then you won’t be able to run, ever.” y/n slowed her movements,  not willing to test the huge man in front of her. y/n swallowed thickly and looked from Mr. M.’s passive face to his hands holding the mismatched objects. The intimate and the violent. The man watched her eyes,  tracked their movements, and when he saw where they landed he genuinely laughed and said, “I told you before, I didn’t like doing those things to those girls. It was to make a point. Touching people intimately is my least favorite idea of a ‘good time.’ I just plan on making him think I’ve had you that way. Send him a little surprise gift and watch as he tries to process his loss of that part of you.” Somehow this response baffled y/n’s sleepless brain even more. Who the hell on the team wouldn’t be upset if she got assaulted in that way? If fact y/n could imagine each member of the team taking Mr. M out in rather lurid ways. It was stupid, but it gave y/n comfort and she even smiled softly at the thought of Derek beating the man up, or Spencer setting some kind of trap of wits for him. M. saw her happy look, and struck her face with the back of his fist, now only a foot from her body. He sneered and said, “‘he’ won’t be as happy as you are right now when he gets our present.” M grabbed her left arm, placed the tip of the knife on her forearm, and pressed it into her skin. The man drew a line down her wrist. 
The red liquid bubbled up and out of the wound like a stream. The cold of the freezer numbed the pain a bit. In fact, the feeling of the hot blood dripping down y/n’s arm was warming and she would have spread it over her arm if she was just a bit more tired. However, she didn’t have the chance as M grabbed her arm in a vice grip, and with his other hand, grabbed her panties. He ran the crotch of her undergarments over her fresh cut, spreading blood over the inside seam. He then dropped them to the ground and turned her arm over. He pinched at the wound, causing the bleeding to increase and easing large red droplets onto her already-soiled underwear. 
y/n felt disgusted at being used this way and said to fill in the oppressive silence, “I don’t think Derek will find this appalling, mainly he’d going to think it’s gross as fuck.” y/n hadn’t really meant Morgan, she’d just said the first name that popped into her head. As tough as Derek was, he wasn’t great with blood, just like Gracia. The slip was the best thing y/n could do as M dropped her arm and looked at her like she’d grown a second head. He shook his head and said, “Lord, and I thought ‘he’ liked you for your brain. It seems you may not have one up there. Dr. Reid is who I am referring to bird. Not agent Morgan. Derek couldn’t figure this out if you put all the pieces in front of him on a board.” 
y/n was astonished for a moment. Not only at the apparent racism of Mr M. but his other statement as well:  Spencer! This was about Spencer! How the hell this guy knew and had been wronged by her best friend on the team was beyond her. Certainly, Reid would have told her about him if they’d had run-ins in the past. They spent so much time together that they basically knew everything about each other. The weariness and pain were starting to get to y/n and she muttered as she closed her eyes, “Why would Spence care about this, he’s seen me on my period before. He’s gotten my sanitary products before, hell I bitch at him when I get cramps, and he takes it.” M stopped looking at the work of art which was y/n’s blood-soaked underwear and said, “You really are hopeless. And I don’t see the appeal to the good Doctor. He’s in love with you and you can’t even see it. Hopeless bird, I’ll take care of that though. You won’t have to think for much longer.” The vitality that y/n had been lacking came back in a rush of heat as M said that Spencer was in love with her. y/n sat up and took her injured arm and cradled it to her chest. The pain finally registered in her synapses. She let out a prolonged breath and said. “You think Spencer is in love with me? That’s a bit of a stretch.” y/n knew in the back of her mind that this might get her hurt more, or killed, but she was finally getting answers and perhaps if she had more answers she could do something with that. Actually use her brain, which the unsub had insulted she didn’t. 
M sighed and replied as if this was a normal conversation, “Bird, the data adds up. Dr. Reid puts himself in forty-three percent more danger when you are in a dangerous postion on a case. He puts himself in the line of fire for you over and over. At least five times by the records I’ve seen. Not only that, the chronically lonely young man who shuns women’s attention chooses to spend time with you above his other friends, even the likes of Morgan or Penelope. If that’s not the start of a crush, then I don’t know what is.” y/n looked up at the man with awe. Not so much at his intellectual prowess that he seemed to think he had, but at how stupid he sounded. Perhaps, maybe, maybe, there were some more feelings between y/n and Spencrs than friendship, but the other things he said were just crap. His use of statistics, and characterizing Reid as a lonely hermit was laughable. However, y/n was more aware than ever now, and this time she kept their mouth shut. She knew that saying those things out loud might likely get her knifed to death, and although the current situation was far from comfortable, she didn’t fancy dying. M hadn’t broken her yet, and now she was more determined than ever to live through this moment. 
The unsub noted that y/n had calmed down slightly and said, “I’ll be back shortly. I can’t let you or him rest too often now. I need to pick up the pace, but I need to send this little gift his way. Any loving words you want to tell him with my little letter? Perhaps it will give the Doctor some comfort.” The man said it sardonically, but y/n pulled herself together and tried to do her best acting and used a sorrowful tone as she said, “Tell him I’m sad it was my first time like this. I’d wished that we’d done it in Tanagra when we had the chance, but he knew I wasn’t ready. I won’t be ready.” y/n let the words slip off her tongue like she’d said them with a longing sadness and it put M at unease to see the odd shift in emotions; however, he shrugged his shoulders and replied cooly, “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments.” 
Once the man had left the room with the knife, y/n lay back exhausted. The unsub had said he’d be back shortly, but maybe he was playing a game and he’d just leave her there to rot or starve. Either way, y/n needed to use this renewed time to think, and not just about the fact that she was trying to come to terms with the fact that she might love Spencer more than she’d allowed herself to do before. She needed to leverage this situation and not let those feelings overwhelm her. She’d already hopefully set one clue and one trap, she’d just need a bit more information to let the trap work. She pondered these things as she rubbed her skin which was slowly losing sensation as the minutes ticked by. 
When the package arrived at the precinct, the team was more prepared for it this time. The police stopped the carrier to ask him a plethora of questions while the team opened the box with some apprehension. Emily took on the role of the person who opened the box. Given the nasty surprise of the pictures of y/n in a state of complete undress in the first contact with the unsub, nobody wanted Spencer to get that kind of a shock again, even if the box was addressed to him alone. Inside the well-packaged cardboard parcel was a letter which Prentiss handed over to Morgan and then she pulled aside a good deal more pink tissue paper than was needed for the pair of underwear in the box. It took Emily and the team a moment to realize what they were given the blood had caked and dried, wrinkling the thin fabric into a distorted blob shape. The team looked at the item not so much with disdain as confusion. Some members of the BAU, JJ, Emily, and Penelope, had seen y/n in her underthings when they shared rooms in a busy hotel, but none of them, especially not Spencer, could immediately identify that they were y/n’s panties until M stated that directly, and implied that he’d done to y/n what he’d done to all his other victims before slowly killing them. 
This information did seem to shock and horrify the team until Derek read this part of the letter aloud with a hint of awkwardness, “And the little bird has a song for the doctor ‘I’m sorry that this was my first time, and that she wishes you had both done it in Tanagra.’ How unfortunate for both of you that that wasn’t the case…” Spencer cut Derek off before he could go into more grotesque details from the letter about what the unsub had done to y/n by saying, “Wait, wait, say that again.” Morgan paused and the team looked at Reid with questioning expressions. Derek repeated the last sentence, and Reid let out a soft breath in relief as he confidently said, “He didn’t touch her,” then under his breath, “thank God.” The BAU was more baffled than ever, and JJ looked over at the soiled underwear now back in the box getting ready for processing by the forensics lab. With hesitation, JJ replied, “Spencer, y/n’s underwear is telling a different story, as does the bruising on her body” 
The team was at a loss for what to think. y/n had been a reserved person far before she joined the team, and the reference that she might have had sex with Spencer, or wanted to have sex with Reid was not totally a shock, given that the BAU knew the two agents were in love, even if they didn’t. But for her to state it like that either showed signs of mental duress or something of that nature. It was just incredibly out of character for her to say anything like that to anyone, even the women on the team. Reid’s response was even more shocking as he said, “y/n’s had plenty of sex. She’s been in a lot of relationships before, so why would she say this was her ‘first time.’ That doesn’t make any sense. Also, I think she would have singled out something more extreme if she had been hurt in that way. It’s all too faux intellectual.” The team stood in stunned silence for a moment before Derek said, “And you and y/n talk about your sex lives often?” 
Spencer flushed at the intrusive question, realizing that he was putting a lot out there about his and y/n’s friendship. Things they may not have shared with other members of the team and kept between themselves. But this was a case where revealing some private details could save y/n’s life, and Spencer would rather die than lose y/n, so he replied steadily, “Yes. Sometimes. When we hang out we talk about our relationships. Why they worked or didn’t? How we’re, different.” Spence omitted the line, “How we can be hard to love.” He meant it more for himself than y/n, even though she echoed that sentiment whenever he brought it up. Spence never really got that. When they’d lay sprawled out under a blanket arguing about the symbolism in Dr. Who, or what the best adaptation of Jane Austen was, he felt like loving y/n would be the easiest thing in the world. Of course, he’d never said that to her either. The team was still silent when Reid came back from his internal journey and Hotch, who most of the time came forward and realized patterns and trends asked, “And Tanagra? Is it a small island or something? I’ve never heard of it before.” Spencer’s eyes moved up and he said, “It’s a reference to an episode of Star Trek we both like called ‘Darmok.’” The team looked at Reid for further clarification because, unlike Spencer and y/n, they didn’t go on overnight watches of Star Trek the Next Generation. 
Again, Reid reddened but patiently explained, “In the episode Captain Picard gets sent to a planet without any weapons. There’s another alien there as well. The Enterprise crew thinks it is some sort of setup, as does Captain Picard. But as it turns out, Picard and the alien, Dathon, need to come together to fight a common enemy. They end up beating the enemy, but Dathon dies. The moral is that they had to find understanding to become united, not only as fighters but as a species.” After Reid quickly gave his recap highlighting the plot and moral of the episode, the team, with the new information seemed to be revitalized, and put at ease. It was just a sliver of hope because y/n had managed to gain some way of communicating with them. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Alright, Reid, and you Morgan take the letter. If y/n is sending any other covert messages then you should be able to find them.” Hotch felt the weight of pressure from this case on his shoulders and raised a hand to his forehead closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Rossi saw his friend's distress and continued the conversation, “Aaron and I will go and check some of the places Garcia flagged as potential locations that y/n could be kept. JJ, you and Emily accompany the forensics team and get us the information once they have some, stat. Is that really y/n’s blood, are there any toxins present, all that? Okay?” Everyone nodded. Now that they all had a direction to go and a specific task to do, it felt more manageable. 
Despite the bright light and thanks to sheer exhaustion, y/n had managed to get a few hours of sleep at some point after being cut by M. She woke with the sound of the door opening. y/n had lost all track of time at this point. There were no windows to tell if it was night or day, and her circadian rhythms were off. Logically y/n knew that it couldn’t have been more than a few days, but at this point, it felt like a week at least. The constant stress, hunger thirst, and cold had drained her so much that she struggled to get up to a seated position to see what her captor was doing this time. M seemed uninterested in y/n, but he did glance at her, the door, and then at her again, as if taunting, “Try me.” The man had brought in a bigger load of items this time. Thanks to his size and strength, he could hold multiple trash bags and a backpack which he could handle all in one trip.
y/n watched M with apprehension and fear as he pulled out a multitude of lights and stands. M set up the lights like a makeup influencer might. M set what looked like extra bright lights in a square formation only a few feet off the ground. y/n bit her lip. If the man was planning on filming something, mainly her, she would be so close to the ground that it would be uncomfortable for him to have to lean down like that. The setup seemed to make no sense, and y/n didn’t like that. In interrogation training, she, along with new FBI agents, were instructed to mentally prepare for what was going to happen to them to better not spill state secrets. However, in this scenario, she couldn’t guess what would happen and it really wasn’t about her. It was about what her deteriorating mental and physical state would do to Spencer. She was important to the extent that she was important to Spencer. 
The unsubs plan became clear as he pulled out a makeshift stand that looked like a prop from a horror film where someone’s eyes get removed. The stand, which M set down and then slotted the wooden frame into was so heavy that even he grunted as he set it down with a loud clanking sound on the floor. y/n closed her eyes and began trying to move away and toward the exit. But y/n wasn’t fast enough. She felt like she was running in knee-deep water as she moved and was quickly grabbed by the hair and pulled to the center of the room. y/n muttered, “Please no, please…” Her cries fell on deaf ears as M bound her hands to the rough wooden post with zip ties so tight that they felt like the plastic was cutting into her wrists. y/n dipped her head down but it was jerked up again as M set her chin on a portion of wood with a cut out for her chin. Just close enough to the skin of her neck was a sharp piece of metal that would slice at her jaw and chin if she tried to move her head; effectively keeping it in place as the unsub lowered a heavy plate for her head and secured it with screws on either side of her face like a vice. When the lights were turned on they were so bright that y/n tried to pull her head back but was stopped by her constraints. Even with her eyes closed the light was searing hot into her retinas and there was no espacing it. Even though the light was bright, y/n took this time to try and pry more information from the unsub as he moved close by her. 
y/n asked with false confidence, “Why do you hate him so much. He certainly doesn’t talk about you.” y/n appealed to his sense of ego which worked. She could hear his heavy footsteps fall silent. There was a long pause and M finally said, “I’d hurt you for that, but I’m planning on that already. If you think this is bad now just wait.”
The words were meant to intimidate y/n, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now but get info and try and relay it to the team. So she stayed firm and didn’t show how scared she felt. Again the silence seemed like a gulf between them but M liked the sound of his own voice and he continued, “And I don’t like the doctor because he bested me. And you did too funnily enough even though I don’t care about you. I applied to the FBI Academy twice. As a Vet with an interrogation specialization, I thought I was the perfect fit, but what happened? Jason Gideon picks some lousy, scrawny kid, and appoints him to the BAU straight out of college, and he didn’t even go to the academy when I DID. Then they hire some woman who ends up leaving under dubious circumstances anyway and then you you -- whore. I don’t know who you had to suck off to get onto that team but both you and the good doctor took a spot that I deserved. I got stuck working at a local college teaching government classes, but I was planning this too. I didn’t want it, but by God am I going to make the FBI regret picking either of you above me, because neither of you will be fit to serve when I’m finished? And I’m far far from finished with you. After M said this, he opened y/n’s right eyelid and instantly she was blinded further. It was with the full intensity of the lights on her that y/n did feel like she might be broken. She didn’t know if she could handle this. But the team stayed in her mind and she grit her teeth. She’d signed up for this, and y/n did her best to remain strong for as long as possible and not lose herself. Not yet, not when there was hope. And if that hope took the form of Spencer Reid, so let it be, it could hardly be a secret to her anymore anyway. Not after this. 
By the time the team got their next message from Mr. M. a few things had happened. The first was that Hotch and Rossi had crossed out a few sectors and limited the range of where y/n was likely being held. The second was that Penelope had caught a red eye and came down from the Quanitco field office to be closer to the action. Lastly, Spencer and Derek had made a solid guess from the tone of both letters that the unsub was likely in the military or the police force and had changed career paths to something like office work or business. This would explain his blunt prose yet stilted attempt at sounding academic or over-intelligent. The team was unprepared for when loud music blasted in their ears when Penelope opened the unlisted video link on her computer. Everyone covered their ears, and Garcia quickly turned down the volume. The team watched in horror, and Pen almost felt like she was going to be ill as the unsub circled y/n with a handheld camera. He zoomed in on y/n’s eyes which seemed glued open and directly facing a very bright light.
y/n was panting like she couldn’t breathe and she hardly looked alive anymore. Not that she wasn’t alive, just that her face was either so pained or slack with the torment that she was being put through that she couldn’t take anymore. All eyes were glued to the gruesome sight and it took a moment for anyone to notice that the music had cut out and the unsub was speaking. Garcia let out a sharp breath, skipped the video back ten seconds, and then raised the volume again. Once the music was cut, and in a calm voice M stated, “Smile little bird, you’re on camera. Have anything to say to the doctor?” y/n’s mouth moved for a moment before she let out a small breath and screamed in a worn and hoarse voice, “Oedipus and his lover, Mr. Dimmesdale was great at his job.” y/n cut herself off with a lot of coughing at the effort of even speaking. Even trying to say something. M pulled the camera back to get a better wide angle of y/n as the unsub said, “Isn’t she great? She sings such a pretty song. I hope you’re enjoying it doctor because I don’t know if she’ll be singing much longer.” 
While most of the team paid attention to what the unsub was saying as a coping mechanism of not having to fully process the mental agony that y/n was going through, Emily paid closer attention. Suddenly Prentiss said loudly, “Roll it back Pen. y/n is mouthing something while the unsub is talking. I’ve almost made it out. I just need to see it once more.” The team, who was looking at Spencer to interpret what y/n had just signaled, and some of whom feared that y/n’s mind was already cracking beyond repair, looked back at the screen as Garcia went back once more. Penelope muted Mr. M, and everyone’s attention went back to y/n, who was clearly mouthing something. Prentiss said softly, and then more loudly, “There are four lights?”  Hearing this Spencer couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes with relief, and he sagged with those words. Derek and Rossi helped support Spencer, and the team huddled around him as he brushed the tears aside and said, “She’s okay. She’s saying she’s okay with the ‘four lights’ line. He hasn’t ‘broken’ her yet. At least not her will….” Reid couldn’t stop himself from saying, like it was an inside thing between just y/n and him, “It’s another Star Trek thing.” 
Another thrill rang through the team at this news. They knew y/n was strong, but she was also a good actress as she had played up her first statement. It became less and less of a surprise that y/n and Reid had spent so much time together. That they knew each other so well. This interaction was just solidifying what they had already assumed. But the picture of y/n’s eyes glued open and looking at the bright light also stayed with the team. Reid had his hands in his hair in frustration now trying to parse out the clues that y/n had left him, but he couldn’t fully match those pieces of information with any one person he knew. Dr. Reid did have some enemies, he did work for the FBI after all, but he didn’t think about them like that often. He didn’t just have people hating him enough to go and kidnap and torture the person he cared about the most. His brain didn’t process things like that even though he had calculated the risk every member of the team took with each case. And he did make sure y/n’s score was lowered thanks to him. But it wasn’t clicking because his brain was doing too much. Reid had jotted down a list of people that might come after him for various reasons and he’d given it to everyone in the BAU to see if they had any ideas. Of course, Penelope had made a whole spreadsheet and also found all the information about each person on the list as well. Spencer had gone over those fifteen names thousands of times now and was doing it again, trying to expand it to make something fit. 
Emily finally broke his train of thought and asked, “Spence, what about the other things y/n said? Is that more Star Trek stuff? It honestly sounded like a foreign language to me.” Only after Prentiss said this did Spencer realize that the rest of the BAU didn’t get all the references or implications in y/n’s words. Reid took a steadying breath while he composed himself. Aaron and Rossi simultaneously pulled out legal pads and pens to try and keep up with Reid’s speaking speed. Spencer started with the first part of y/n’s shouted sentence, saying, “Well. It’s kind of Star Trek. You actually just made me think of that Emily.” The parts and y/n’s wit began to click better and Spence continued, “We have to go back to the thing y/n said in her first letter about Tangra.” The team nodded and Hotch was already writing furiously, his hand gripping white on the pen in his grasp. “So Pircard can’t understand Dathon because their species speak only in metaphors, so I think y/n is giving us, me, a metaphor about who the unsub is.” This is where Hotch jumped in and said, “Then it’s not directly related to Trek. Just a way of signaling something. The first part of her metaphor was a reference to Oedipus Rex.” Everyone’s eyes moved to Aaron and they seemed surprised, but he brushed off their apparent shock at his classical literature knowledge and continued for those who didn’t get the reference, “Oedipus Rex is a tragedy about a prophecy that the son of a king will end of killing his father and marrying his mother. The king is horrified and has his newborn son, Oedipus, arranged to be killed. The man meant to kill him takes pity on the baby and spares him, thus many years later the prophecy comes true.” 
Spencer nodded along, and Garcia couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Wow, that’s really messed up.” Before Aaron could remind the technical analyst that it was a thousand-year-old work of fiction, Reid replied, “Yes, Oedipus does end up fulfilling the prophecy, but he didn’t want to. He doesn’t even know about it until later and he leaves his town to try and not fulfill his destiny, but he ends up doing that anyway. That’s why is a tragedy.” The team took in the information and Rossi offered, “So the unsub wanted to do the right thing but ended up doing the worst possible option?” Spence nodded along and then said, “And the second part about Mr. Dimmesdale being good at his job, I assume that’s a reference to The Scarlet Letter. Arthur Dimmessdale is the pastor who gets the protagonist pregnant and ends up being shunned from the Puritan society.” Emily asked, “So are we looking for someone who was thrown away for no reason? Or for doing something that appears bad?” Spencer nodded no, and thought through his list again, expanding it to the new parameters saying, “No. y/n specifically mentioned Dimmesdale, so I think we’re looking for a man. Clearly, Mr. Dimmesdale didn’t love his job because he did something that he shouldn’t have done either. He ends up having a breakdown because he can’t keep his secret. He ends up getting publicly humiliated.” 
The team thought for a moment and Penelope asked, “So is there someone you ended up humiliating enough to do something this horrible? I mean, not intentionally, but like when you were in grad school or at the Bureau? Anything?” Reid shook his head unknowingly. He couldn’t place someone he had specifically wronged except for those he’d put in prison, and thankfully many of those men and women were already dead or sentenced to life, but a picture started forming in Hotch’s head. The Unit Chief stated, “I don’t think you’d know him. Or have even met him, yet? Oedipus didn’t know his father when he killed him. He only figured that out later. So this is more about what you did to him than anything else.” Dave looked at Aaron and asked, “Do you have an idea of who he is?”  Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. This was while Jason was still here and you were ‘retired.’ You know Gideon hand-picked Spencer for the BAU much to the chagrin of the director. But it wasn’t only them, there were other members of the academy who wanted Reid’s spot. There were a few NATS that were more than flustered. Jason and I fielded quite a few complaints. There was one man in particular, an ex-Marine who threatened Gideon and me. That instantly excluded him from our recruiting, and once Gideon invited Reid, we started getting real threats. That man dropped off the map, but he continued sending threats through alternative accounts, and many were targets to you, Spencer. Garcia took care of them actually, took care of blocking them so you didn’t ever see them.” 
Spencer looked up at Hotch shocked and said, “Why didn’t you ever tell me this.” Hotch dropped his head and said, “You were so young Spencer. So much was happening in your life at that time and Jason and I thought it was for the best. I apologize. That was a mistake.” Reid let out a breath, knowing now wasn’t the time to be upset with Aaron. Instead, he asked, “Do you still have his contact information? Do you have anything at all on him?” Before Aaron could even reply, Penelope said, “I do. I keep everything, and this time it’s legal. Any threats that are filed against an agent or a former agent are kept in a database that I helped update.” Morgan said with a happiness he hadn’t felt since arriving in Kansas, “God bless you, woman. Now is the time to show us those computer skills of yours” Penelope smiled and turned back toward her screen, cracking her knuckles, “Glady my friends. Watch me do my thing.” 
y/n slumped onto the ground limp. When M finally released her from the contraption that had held her in place, y/n was too overwhelmed to do anything else but lie. Once the light in front of her had been turned off, she felt like she was in an abyss of black. Even though the man had unglued her eyelids after what felt like an eternity. Just being in front of the light with her eyes shut was still like looking at the sun without shades. Again time was a reality that had left y/n out of place, out of being. It could have been months or years since she’d been bound since she’d been put in this place. Because of the loud noise from the speakers M had brought in, y/n couldn’t hear him moving around. Her ears were constantly ringing even though the sound had ceased. Besides that, y/n didn’t have the energy to try and figure out what was happening around her; she knew whatever it was wasn’t good. At this point, y/n didn’t even feel she was in her own body anymore. She was somewhere else entirely. 
y/n didn’t register anything much apart from pain until the unsub, who had set up the room as a trap, started a livestream that he sent to Spencer, and kicked her in the side. The sharp pain radiated up y/n’s ribcage and she let out a moan though her voice was gone from screaming. Even M had to shout and shake y/n to get her to hear him say, “I’m letting you go. All you have to do is get to the door. You’re useless to me now. I don’t see your doctor coming to save you, so you might as well get out. I guess you’re not as important to him as I thought you were.” Deep down, y/n knew that the man wouldn’t let her go. She’d not leave this place alive. She also knew she was special to Spencer. That he would do anything for her, and that he and the team were still looking for her, but she was so tired and mentally broken that she began to believe it. It felt like for no reason other than to just move instead of being killed not trying, that y/n began to move on the floor. She was too weak to even get on her hands and knees.
Instead, she just moved on her stomach in a direction even though she couldn’t see anything except bright spots covering most of her vision. The rest was so blurry that it only added to the migraine she already had. y/n hardly noticed that there was glass on the ground until the warmth of the blood from her stomach made her realize in horror that she was crawling on a sea of broken glass. y/n stopped and M began berating her for not being strong enough. Not having the willpower to want to get away. That he had won. It took the last of y/n’s strength to speak her mind. To tell the man the truth. She knew it would get her killed, faster, but she would have a clear mind. 
“You’re an idiot.” Y/n couldn’t hear her own voice, but she assumed M was listening and she didn’t let anything he did distract her from continuing, “You are the dumbest person I’ve met. You got Spencer all wrong. You don’t understand him at all. He might like me, and I like him too, but Spence isn’t some weirdo who doesn’t have any friends. He doesn’t stay up at night plotting revenge on people or thinking of zany puzzles because he’s so bored and doesn’t have friends. Spencer is a smart guy, but that intelligence doesn’t push him away from people or relationships. He’s just a smart guy who works for the FBI. It’s clear to me that you’re the weirdo with no friends, and you’re just going to have to accept that you couldn’t cut it in the FBI, forever. It sucks to suck.” Mr. M moved to grab a knife he had brought in the room to finish the job. He couldn’t handle y/n insulting him,  and he was going to finish her off, slowly. He had very little restraint when he was scorned. Before he could get to y/n, he was knocked back by a load of gunfire as the BAU along with a SWAT team swarmed into the room. y/n was so far gone that she couldn’t even tell as Reid knelt next to her and wept. 
The next few days stretched into apparent eternity for many of the team. y/n was taken immediately to the hospital, accompanied by Spencer and Emily, while Derek and Aaron took the unsub into custody for interrogation and criminal proceedings. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope stayed behind to handle the police presence, forensics teams, and clean-up process. In part, the BAU was relieved to find y/n still alive, it was a weight lifted, but the reports from y/n’s team of doctors at the hospitals painted such a picture of pain and mental suffering that y/n must have endured that it broke their hearts. How they could ever forgive themselves for what had happened, to y/n? They didn’t know. But they had to keep moving because that was what the job required. That was the nature of the work, and they all prayed that y/n would get better, and also understand what they had to do. 
Spencer felt shielded from most of the work side of things, as he stayed mostly at the hospital and heard the doctors and nurses' multifaceted and comprehensive care plan for y/n with the majority of it working on how to deal with y/n’s partial loss of vision, mental health, PTSD, and the chronic pain that would likely come in the months ahead. Spencer took in this information and researched and planned and found medical trials and anything that he thought might help. He mostly did this to fill the time. y/n had been put in a medical coma to help facilitate her physical healing. Spencer knew in the end that no amount of research he did it would but y/n It would be up to her to want to keep living after this. And given all that she’d been through, he wouldn’t blame her if she decided to just be whatever was left of herself because of him. Reid was trying to take in the very real possibility that she might never want to see him again given that being his friend had made this fate happen to her. Spence was only out of the hospital when another member of the team tagged him out for a day or a few hours. Even then, Spencer didn’t rest. He just tossed and turned. 
When y/n was taken out of her coma four days later, it was Penelope who was there when her fingers twitched on the sheets and felt the crisp material. y/n’s eyes opened, seeing only the blurred brightness of the room which she quickly closed them again. Garcia leaned forward in her chair and said softly, “I’m here y/n. You just rest for now.” Penelope stayed with y/n for the next few hours as the doctors and nurse checked on y/n’s vitals and her sight and she lay exhausted in every way, just let these things happen to her. Her mind was somewhere else. It wasn’t in the hospital room, part of it was still on the team, like an outsider looking in, and part of it was at her apartment watering the one plant she’d kept alive since college, and another was in the park where they sold a t/c/s that she loved to drink and people watch with, but the majority of her brain was still in that freezer, waiting for death, waiting for the worst to happen. And even though part of her mind knew she was alive and being helped, it couldn’t register beyond what had happened to her. y/n stayed in this state of being in and out of herself and her body for another day. The next time y/n came back to herself, it was still Penelope sitting by her. 
Garcia came back into the waiting room where Spencer was, as always, sitting and waiting for news, waiting for anything. Penelope walked over to him and leaned over his seated form. Reid looked up at her, his brown eyes lit up slightly. He asked something quietly back and Penelope nodded her head. Spencer got up and shook out his legs. They’d gotten stiff with all his awkward sitting positions. He followed Garica and a nurse to y/n’s room and took the place where the blonde and spunky Technical analyst had been for the last two hours. The nurse gave Reid a few words before leaving the room. The mood shifted a bit. Penelope just lit up a room where as Spencer brought a more calm mood to the room. He looked around the space which he’d seen while y/n was unconscious. It was still light, a sad beige color, and lots of pretty soft flowers from the team and friends. It seemed that Reid could look everywhere but y/n. The nurse and Penelope had both warned him that y/n still hadn’t said a word since she had woken up apart from his name. Reid didn’t expect y/n to just become whole because he was near her, but the fact that y/n had called for him had given him hope. But as his eyes finally landed on her face which was healing from the heavy bruising she’d received, her eyes remained mostly closed, but every now and then they opened, took in whatever they could, and then closed again. One time she turned her head slightly toward Spencer, and he wondered if she could even see him, or if she knew he was there. 
It wasn’t until the next day that y/n said in a very soft and hoarse voice, “Spence?” that Reid looked up from his lap and shifted forward in his chair. He didn’t want to be imagining things, but y/n’s voice had been so faint that he could have just made his name up. Anyhow, he softly replied, “Yes, y/n. I’m here.” y/n swallowed and turned her face toward him. She couldn’t see him, but she’d left like he was there. It didn’t seem like Penelope anymore but given how she’d felt, and the things that weren’t real that she’d seen before being saved had messed up her sense of reality. Hearing Spencer’s response helped, and she held back a sob as she asked, “How do I know you’re real? How do I know if any of this is real?”
Spencer desperately wanted to take her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t want to promise things he couldn’t guarantee. He also knew touching y/n might make her nervous and panicked. Spencer looked over y/n and replied, “It’s real because you know it is. Because you’re strong enough to wake up and talk. Because maybe life isn’t so cruel to let this be a dream for either of us.” y/n turned her head toward him again and tried to make out his face. She’d have liked to see what he looked like right now. Was he sad, relieved, or feeling as empty as she was? She wanted to know because she didn’t know how to feel or act or do. For now, there wasn’t more than resting and waiting to see if this was all a charade. To see if she’d suddenly jerk awake to see death in the face again. To be back with M. again. For now, she let out a sigh and tried to feel anything in her body. Her pain receptors were either shot from what she’d been through or she was on so much pain medication that it was intentional. Either way seemed preferable, and yet the pain had grounded her in her time in captivity and now that it was gone there was a strange void where it had pulsed all over her body. y/n rested her head in a more comfortable position and let the sleepiness come back to drag her back under. 
The rest of the BAU shuffled through sitting with y/n as Spencer got his mandated rest and time off ordered by Aaron. The presence of the others and the changes in the atmosphere with each of them helped y/n pull herself back together. The next time Spencer came back she was slightly more herself. She was sitting up on a few pillows and she sensed when Reid stepped into the room. They sat together for a few minutes in silence before y/n said, “The last time you were here you said I was strong. But I don’t feel strong Spencer. I feel broken. I mean I am broken. I can’t see anything and my hearing’s shot too.” Reid bit his lower lip and thought for a bit before responding. He could tell her that she was very likely to get her hearing back and that her vision would improve in time. That with time and care she could resume a pretty normal life. 
But a pretty normal life didn’t feel fair. None of this felt fair, and Spencer knew that. He also knew that the team in charge of y/n’s care would have told her that as well. They would have been doing everything that would attempt to boost her spirits. As it was like Spencer to do, he chose to go with a more metaphorical take on things. It was one of the things that had drawn y/n to him in the first place, and he hoped it would bring her comfort now. He focused on her hands which were gripping the sheets tightly as he said, “No one chooses to be broken y/n. That’s not their fault, but that doesn’t mean that the thing isn’t beautiful, it’s just changed.” y/n let out a breath and said, “I’m not Fitzgerald or Beethoven. I don’t think the tortured broken artist thing will work for me. I’m just a profiler. Was just a profiler.” Spencer could see the disappointment and pain on her face, and he replied, “Not that exactly, but your knowledge about art and literature did make it possible for us to find you. I was useless on this case, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You saved yourself on this one, and given what you’ve been through, you deserve a good life after this, a peaceful life if you want it.” 
y/n wanted to believe Spencer, but his speech so far was giving, “A broken clock is correct twice a day,” and that wasn’t the most uplifting thing she’d heard so far. She didn’t know what she wanted after this. Didn’t know how to want anything after she’d thought she would die over and over again. However, y/n knew that Spence wasn’t done yet. It was a tell in his cadence, and just as y/n expected, he continued, “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?” y/n nodded her head no, and Reid explained, “It’s a form of Japanese pottery. When a plate or vase or anything that’s been fired breaks; the potter puts the pieces back together with gold.” y/n let out a breath, it sounded like a beautiful thing, and it was a nice metaphor, but her pessimistic side said, “So I’m just a broken thing and painted pretty so I’m not a profit-loss?” Spencer sighed and said, “No. What I’m trying to say is that. What I’m trying to say is that things that are broken still have value and beauty. They still deserve to be cared for and looked after. They’re different, but it’s still a precious thing. It is to me at least.”
y/n couldn’t hold back the tears that were now overspilling from the corners of her eyes, and she moved her hand out, palm open. An invitation to let Spencer take it, which he did. Spencer bowed his head over their joined hands and y/n felt his soft hair on her skin. It was the first time she’d felt grounded since waking up. It was the first time she felt real again. y/n sniffled and said, “I don’t know what to do Spence. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Reid nodded and said while gently squeezing her hand said, “I know. And you don’t have to know that right now. Every part of you is still there, but it’s going to be a hard time to dig those things back out of yourself. Maybe some of them you’ll want to leave behind. But I want to be with you as you try to become this new version of you. If you’ll let me. I was such an idiot y/n. I’m so sorry,” y/n nodded and said, “Don’t be. I don’t regret it, Spencer. It’s worth it to know you. I want you here, please.” 
Spencer nodded, and y/n felt tears that weren’t her own on her hand and arm now as Spence ever so lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. Neither of them said it, but the love in the room was so much more than what it had been before. Perhaps it wasn’t the fluffy teenage love they could have had if none of this had happened, but it was clearer now than ever, and that was worth it. There was a future in that, whatever it looked like. After a few moments y/n asked, “Can you read to me? I knew you had a book in your lap before I said anything and the quiet is slowly driving me insane.” Spencer sat up and said, “Well it’s just a collection of Ginsberg poems and I know you don’t like Ginsberg.” y/n scoffed lightly and retorted, “What do you mean, I love Ginsberg.” Reid shook his head and said, “Liar.” y/n pouted like a child at being read so easily and said, “Fine, but maybe I love Ginsberg when you’re reading him to me. Please?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Anything for you, y/n. Anything.” As Spencer began reading, and y/n listened, neither of them thought about the future or the past, they were just there, and for now, that was as meaningful as gold holding something broken yet precious together.
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megamindsecretlair · 8 months
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Mr. Black, Part 7
Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), use of sex toys, spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, minor D/s elements, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.
Summary: Tre is in the hot seat with your friends as they ask their questions. Taking you all to brunch, Tre does well. But he also has some ideas about punishment that you weren't prepared for.
Word Count: 4,671k
A/N: I heard it was our favorite Mr. Black's birthday yesterday! I wanted to post this yesterday, but well, had to work around my family. The focus was on these two, so no updates about the company thief. Will they be found out in the next chapter? Dun-Dun! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 - Completed
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“Sir, please!” You moaned. You stood by your front door, hands on the wall and ass tucked out. Tre had your panties half down your legs and was aggressively fingering you. His fingers flicked over your clit and you were a fidgety mess. You twitched and jerked and quivered. Your legs were jelly. 
There was a small mirror in the foyer area and you bent your head back to look at Tre. He lifted his eyes at the same time and licked his lips. You groaned. “Pleeease,” you moaned. 
“I decided that I was still a little hurt that you hadn’t told your friends about me,” Tre said. 
“I apologized for that!” You said. Your wedges were wobbling so badly that you thought your ankle would give out. 
“I know. But I didn’t punish you properly for it,” he said. 
“Oh god. Oh god,” you chanted. 
“Don’t you dare fucking cum,” he said. 
“Shit!” You cried out. You were close. Entirely too close and you didn’t know how much longer you could last. Your moans increased in volume and Tre slowed down. “Nooo!” 
Tre chuckled and grabbed the vibrator from the table behind him. He moved it in your essence, rolling the vibrator around your dripping pussy and then slowly pushed it in. He fucked you with it. The vibrations drew a ragged moan from your lips. 
You sniffled, runaway tears leaking down your face. Your friends were gonna worry about you if it looked like you had been crying for different reasons. It was already difficult to get through this lunch in one piece. Now you had to do it with a vibrator in your pussy controlled by Tre. 
“Sir, please,” you cried. 
Tre sighed and pushed the vibrator inside. He leaned down and kissed both of your cheeks and then stood up, replacing your panties. He turned the vibrator off and pulled you into a standing position. He fixed your dress and turned you around to face him.
He looked edible in a black sweater and black jeans. His black boots were laced up and you knew he also wore black socks. One of these days, you would ask why he loved the color so much. You had your favorite color too, but to exclusively wear it? You didn’t know if you could. 
He kissed your cheeks and smiled at you. “I’ll wait if you need to fix your makeup. But I think you look sexy as fuck like this,” he said. 
He licked his fingers and you watched his mouth work up and down as he licked up every drop of your arousal. You turned around slowly and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your teary eyes smudged your makeup a little, but not in an obvious way. It gave you a mysterious misty look that was pretty hot.
“This is so unfair,” you said and sniffled, walking towards the bathroom to grab tissue and blow your nose. You should put on flats or sandals. There was no way you’re walking in wedges like this. But you knew Tre would be upset. He loved the way heels made your legs look. 
You walked back to the front door. You grabbed your purse and Tre let you leave first. He drove to the brunch spot that you were meeting your friends at. Your stomach roiled thinking of this meeting. This blending of your two lives. It was killing you. 
You expected to get the third degree from your friends. You were prepared for that. You were not prepared for how Tre would act. Would he be upset at their questions? Cavalier? Your friends were known for being wild.
Tre didn’t seem like he belonged in your world. Down with the regular folk and people trying to get by. He seemed larger than life. Like he existed on an entirely new plane of existence. 
“You’ll be alright,” he said. He kissed your cheek as he let you out of the car and held your hand as you walked to the entrance. A host there asked for the reservation name. Tre made it under his and soon you were seen to a table. You were the first to arrive so you ordered drinks for the table, knowing exactly what your girls wanted. Maybe if they saw the free drinks, they’d be a little nicer to Tre. 
You already told them to be nice several times in the group chat. But those bitches liked to have selective hearing. 
Your fingers tapped on the table as you kept looking behind you for your friends. You couldn’t even look over the menu. 
The vibrator coming to life made you shriek and jump in your seat. “Hey!” You whispered to Tre. 
The place was jumping with a lot of people who had the same idea. New and interesting dishes were coming out of the back like strawberry shortcake pancakes and fish ‘n grits. You looked around as if people could hear the vibrator going off. You placed your hand on the booth seat to see if it was vibrating. 
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Tre said. He sipped on a mimosa and placed his arm behind you in the booth. He had rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and then your mind started drifting. Thinking of when he’d finally allow you to cum. You’d have to work out a rule against claiming punishment after something had already been negotiated. If he could change his mind at any moment, you’d have to get something in return. 
“I know,” you said. 
“I’ve already spoken to Ka’ron and she was nothing but nice,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s that twin sign in her. Don’t let it fool you,” you said. 
Moments later, your friends Ka’ron and Sasha, approached the table. Both were stunning in casual outfits that complimented their skin tone. Ka’ron kept it simple in a jumpsuit while Sasha wore a dress like you. 
Already, they had matching looks of disapproval. Tre scooted out of the booth and held his hand out. He introduced himself and shook both of their hands. “Please, have a seat,” he said.
Sasha broke first, looking at you with a knowing smirk. But she schooled her features and eyed Tre up and down. Ka’ron was harder to read. You had no idea what they talked about when Tre called her with an outlandish request.
Sasha scooted in and took her place while Ka’ron sat at the end. Tre sat back in the booth and kept his eyes trained on Ka’ron. It was like they were two prizefighters sizing each other up. Who was going to break first? Who was going to swing first? 
Sasha got your attention and mouthed, “Damn”. You smiled, appreciating that she acknowledged that you did pretty fucking well all things considered. 
“Well, now that we all know each other. Let’s look at these menus,” you said. You picked yours up and tapped a random item. Nutella pancakes. Ehh. 
Ka’ron and Tre were still staring each other down. Your friend had a perfect bitch face. Tre only had a small smile on his face like he was enjoying this. 
“I’m glad you found the place, okay,” Tre said. You sighed, thankful that he broke first. 
“Almost didn’t. The place is completely black on the outside,” Ka’ron said. 
“Part of the charm I think. No one outside gawking,” Tre said. 
“I got your favorite drinks,” you said, trying to break through some of the tension between them. Ka’ron melted a little, grabbing her mimosa and sipping it. 
Sasha accepted her Tequila Sunrise with a happy smile. “Okay! They made a good one,” she said. 
“So how did you two meet? You said you’d explain, so start,” Ka’ron said, finally turning her attention to you. 
You sighed and began, telling them that you met him while at work. It was hard for you to explain that he was both your boss and your boyfriend. Sasha’s eyes bugged out.
“Bitch, you been fuckin’ the boss and ain’t said shit?” 
“It kind of just happened,” you said.
“Did you trip in your heels and fall on his dick without no panties on?” Sasha asked.
You slapped her shoulder. “Stop it,” you said. When you got with your friends, none of you had a filter. You didn’t care where you were or who was listening. You told all your wildest sex stories to each other and horrible date incidents. Sasha was in a relationship and her boyfriend’s filthy mouth matched hers. Some of their texts made even you blush.
Ka’ron had a revolving door of lovers. Once she got bored, it was time to move on. She didn’t believe in being tied down to just one person and you respected her for it. It was much braver to admit that not everyone needed a partner. That it was okay to want to be alone. 
Tre laughed at your friends but shook his head. “That was my fault,” Tre said and looked at you.
Your food was delivered by a charming young Black woman who passed out each dish. You ended up with the fish ‘n grits, a fried lobster tail on top. 
You finished explaining yourself to your friends. Ka’ron looked at Tre. “You must be special then,” she said and her icy exterior melted a fraction.
“What makes you say that?” Tre asked.
“She gets extremely private when she actually likes someone,” Sasha said.
“Do not!” You said. 
Tre looked at you and turned the vibrator back on with a grin. Sinister bastard. You looked at your friends to see if they could tell that you had a vibrator inside you right now. Maybe you were a good actress. Or maybe they were too busy focusing on their meal and Tre’s responses than to pay attention to you slowly dying. 
“How many guys has she been quiet about?” He asked.
“Two. Matthew in high school and Omar in college,” Sasha said. 
“I wasn’t quiet about them!” You said. Both were severe crushes that consumed your thoughts for practically ever. When you did get with them, you felt like you would crawl out of your skin every time. 
“We didn’t find out that she liked Matthew until he got with someone in tenth grade. About tore her little heart to pieces. Omar, she hid for months while they talked and it wasn’t until I came back to the room that I knew they were even together,” Ka’ron said.
“Tell all my damn business, Ka’ron,” you said. You glared at her but she didn’t pay you any mind. She smiled and blew you a kiss. 
“Then I do feel special,” Tre said. 
“That was…”
“Your toxic trait, we know babes,” Sasha said and patted your arm. You glared at her too but Tre turned up the setting on your vibrator. You twitched in your seat. Sasha looked at you weird and asked if you were okay.
You nodded and focused on eating and not cumming. You were scared that if you opened your mouth, a moan would escape. 
“So what are your intentions with her?” Ka’ron asked. 
You glared at her. You were going to kill her. You hoped that your expression said as much as you took a sip of your drink. 
“I’m gonna marry her,” he said.
You spat your drink back in your cup and started choking. Painful, hacking coughs that made your chest ache. 
You tried to ask him what the hell he said. But the drink went down the wrong pipe and now your lungs were burning from all the coughing. 
“Obviously, down the road when we’ve dated some more,” he said and grinned. 
You were going to get a headache from all the glaring you were doing. Sasha patted your back and you calmed down. You drank some water to help clear your throat. 
Tre grinned at you and turned the vibrator onto the pulse setting. You closed your eyes, trying to fend off the orgasm and not make a sound. You didn’t know where he was hiding the remote. “Girl, are you okay?” Sasha asked. 
You nodded. No, you were not okay. But you couldn’t say why. You couldn’t fess up to absolutely everything, not while Tre was scrambling your brain. Ka’ron and Sasha continued to grill Tre about his background, family, and why he was with you. You thought some of the questions were rude but Tre handled it all with a smile.
You had brief periods of rest from the vibrator while you ate and had to answer questions yourself. You’ve done far worse to your friends’ partners so it was only fair that they did the same thing. Being in the hot seat still sucked though. 
“What I wanna know is what happened on the phone when Tre called you. How could you let me abscond with a strange man?” You asked Ka’ron.
Here she did grin evilly and sipped her drink, looking up and away as if she was remembering her happiest memory. “Oh I did my due diligence, unlike some people,” she said and looked at you.  
“I was blindsided with the help of my best friend,” you said, pointedly. 
She grinned. “When he called I thought it was a prank. But I googled him. I made him email me a copy of his driver’s license. He had to send me all of the vacation details. Plus a picture of him holding a spoon,” she said.
“What? A spoon?” You asked.
“Yup, so I knew I was talking to somebody real and not Zoboomafoo from Egypt,” Ka’ron said.
You looked at Tre. “You sent her a picture of yourself holding a spoon?” You asked.
“Can’t argue with a friend looking out for you,” he said. 
“Okay, okay. But how romantic was the vacay? Jamaica on New Year’s? That sounds like heaven,” Sasha said.
“It was!” You pulled out your phone and showed them pictures. They cooed over the beautiful sunsets that you took pictures of and the hills and mountains in the background. You told them about some of the activities that you got into.
Tre turned the vibrator back on and you gripped the edges of the table. You were shaking, badly, a bead of sweat gathering at the top of your forehead. You turned desperate, wild eyes to Tre. He kept it on the low setting and polished off his food with a smile. 
You would get him back for this, but anything you did to him, he would return tenfold. You debated if you were ready for the smoke or not. Pressure built and built in your lower belly. Yeah, maybe the payback was worth it if he could feel even a fraction of the torment you did.
“Well, Tre, I see you make our good sis happy. But let’s be real. You hurt her and they’ll never find your body,” Sasha said. She said it with a sweet smile but you knew first hand that Sasha stayed having a gun on her. Plus, she had an army of brothers, sisters, and cousins all willing to bail each other out. 
“It is never my intention to hurt her. I’m in it for the long run if she’ll have me,” Tre said.
Ka’ron gave you a subtle approving look. If Tre could pass the friend test, then he was ready to pass your parents’ approval. Though, how you were going to tell them the boss bit was troubling you. You already texted them that you were dating someone and sent them a picture of the two of you. Your mother approved, your dad did not. 
“How come you haven’t been married before? You say all the right things but I don’t buy it,” Ka’ron said.
“Girl,” you warned. 
Tre placed his hand on top of yours. “I’ve always known what I wanted and I didn’t feel the need to settle for anything less. I got a lot of shit outta my system when I was younger and now? I just want to spend time with someone who understands me. Someone I can spoil just to make them happy.” 
“And you found the most commitment phobic person to spoil,” Sasha sighed. 
“What?” You asked. 
“Yeah, why is that? She’s so tight lipped about everything,” Tre said.
You whipped your head around to look at him like he grew two heads. “I am not.” 
“She didn’t have a lot of privacy growing up. So when she moved out during college, she overcorrected. Hell, I thought her parents were dead or something for the whole first year of college. She never talked about them,” Ka’ron explained. 
This was starting to feel more like an intervention than a group activity. “I’m sitting right here,” you said and folded your arms.
The waiter came by and Tre paid for the meal. He threw you a smile but you weren’t done being a little pissy that they were talking about you as if you weren’t even there. 
“We know, but getting information out of you is like pulling teeth,” Sasha said.
“Shut up, I tell you guys a lot,” you said.
Sasha and Ka’ron looked at each other for half a second before erupting into laughter. You sucked your teeth as you watched them laugh at your expense. You’d definitely have to grab brunch with them, alone, and see what the hell they’re talking about.
You tell them everything. Every minor inconvenience, they were the first people you reached out to. So you were a little private when it comes to matters of the heart, who wasn’t? 
Tre got his card back so the brunch winded down. Tre stood up and helped you out of the booth. Together, you all walked outside into the glaringly bright afternoon. You said goodbye to your friends with promises to text them when you got a free moment. Though, where Tre was concerned there was no such thing as a free moment.
Tre escorted you to his car and opened the door for you. He helped you climb into his truck and then he got into the driver’s side. He lifted your hand and brought it to his lips. “I hope I passed the boyfriend test,” he said.
You smiled and pulled out your phone. You already had a few messages from Sasha, all ending with a lot of exclamation points. “I’d say you definitely passed,” you said.
“Good.” He started the car and turned on the vibrator at the same time. 
“Shit!” You screamed.
Tre chuckled as he sped away from Inglewood and hopped on the freeway back to El Segundo. You gripped the car door and the armrest on the middle console and focused as hard as you could. 
Your panties were uncomfortably soaked and it didn’t help that Tre was talking to you as if he weren’t the devil himself. “What you feel like for dinner?” He asked.
“Are you serious right now? Your punishments suck ass,” you said. 
He grinned. “Punishments aren’t supposed to be fun,” he said.
Tre hit a dip in the freeway and a wave of pleasure cascaded from the top of your head down to the bottom of your feet. You breathed through it. You weren’t going to be able to stave off this orgasm for much longer. You didn’t know where this control was coming from. You only knew that you hated edging so fucking much. 
“New rule, we can’t retroactively enact punishments on things already forgiven,” you said. 
“Forgiveness and punishments are two different things,” he said.
“So totally not. Forgive and forget, that’s the motto,” you said.
He glanced at you before switching lanes and pulling off of the freeway. You waited at the red light while he looked at how badly you were gripping the armrest. That damn smile crept across his face. 
“I can forgive you all day long, but punishment is about making sure we understand each other moving forward. I don’t want to be a secret in your life. Work is different, I understand your concerns about it. But in your everyday life, I want everyone to know that I’m with you,” he said.
“Couldn’t we do that without the punishment?” You asked.
He grinned as he pulled up to his house. “Where’s the fun in that?” 
He let you out of the car but did nothing to adjust the setting on the vibrator. He took you to his room where he stripped you. When your panties peeled away from your soaked pussy, he moaned low in his throat. 
He told you to get on the bed, hands and knees, and he’d be right back. You weren’t sure what he was going to do, but you obeyed. If it got you any type of relief, you’d do anything he fucking wanted.
He came back into the room carrying a bar and a glass of bourbon. He had stripped down to his briefs and you licked your lips at the imprint of his dick. He was hard already and you knew that you were in for a fucking ride. 
“What’s that?” You asked.
“It’s a spreader. Want to try something?” He asked. 
“I’m game,” you said. 
He grinned and took a sip of bourbon, placing it on a coaster on his nightstand. He told you what to do in order for him to place the bar between your legs and strapped it to your ankles. You were effectively spread open for him. 
He grabbed your wrists and strapped them in so that you couldn’t move. You were trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and honestly? You were so turned on you nearly came on the spot. 
Tre admired his handy work but you couldn’t see his face. He just moaned in appreciation, running his fingers over your ass. “Comfortable?” 
“Please, let me cum,” you begged. You could only whisper as the vibrator was too fucking much. 
Tre kneeled on the bed and kissed your temple. “You have been such a good girl for me today,” he said.
“Shit,” you whispered.
“Doing exactly what I told you with hardly a complaint. Sat next to your friends with this vibrator in your pussy. I’m so proud of you,” he said and planted another kiss on your head. 
The praise was its own magic, creating wave after wave of pleasure. You were going to break soon. You were free to moan and wobble now that you were back in the safety of his place. Here, you could whine and cry and turn watery eyes towards Tre and beg. 
“Please,” you said and licked your dry lips. You sniffled. 
“Have you learned your lesson? Have you learned that it’s you and me from now on?” He asked.
You nodded weakly. You couldn’t hold yourself up since your arms were behind you. His sheets smelled like him and it was like sensory overload. Most of your senses were engaged in this. You were totally focused on the present in a way you hadn’t been before.
Your mind was usually spinning and planning out different things. But at the moment, you could only focus on his words and the vibrator. 
Tre stood up and stood behind you. He grabbed the vibrator and began fucking you with it. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned. “I learned my lesson, I swear!” 
Tre chuckled. “I wanna feel you cum on this dick. Been dyin’ to feel you, little one,” Tre said. 
He removed the vibrator and you sighed in relief. Your body was so tense. Was it possible to combust from not cumming? Because you felt like a balloon ready to pop. 
Tre shed his briefs behind you. He grabbed your hips with one hand and then guided himself inside of you. You both groaned, low and long. “So fuckin’ wet,” he moaned.
“Oh fuck, Sir!” You yelled. 
He moved inside of you slowly, making sure that he wasn’t hurting you. He sheathed himself fully inside of you and you moaned at the feel of him. At the way he claimed you possessively and thoroughly. 
“Ready?” He asked.
You barely nodded before he slammed you down on his dick. You gasped and your tears flowed freely as he immediately found your G-spot. And proceeded to keep hitting it until a second later, you were crying out your orgasm. Crying from all the edging and the sweet fucking relief of finally cumming.
You were making guttural, near animalistic noises. Tre was fucking you through it. His big hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his dick and because you were held open by the spreader, you couldn’t retreat. You couldn’t push his chest away. 
“Feel so fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ good. Fuck, so fuckin’ wet for me,” he said. 
Your pussy was making wet, smacking noises as his dick slipped in and out. “Shit, shit,” you moaned. You were already gearing up for another one.
“Naw, don’t hold that shit back. Let me feel that pussy shakin’ for me,” he moaned. He smacked your ass and you groaned. Your orgasm was just as intense as the last one. Perhaps more so. Colors danced behind your closed eyes as you shook and convulsed, lost so completely to the magnitude of it. The overwhelming pleasure that tore through you. 
Tears ran freely down your cheeks. It had to be criminal to feel this type of relief. This type of pleasure. You felt Tre in your tummy as he continued to fuck you through it.
“That’s my fuckin’ good girl,” he growled. His thrusts and strokes turned sloppy. Desperate. Slamming you back easily as he fucked you into the bed. “Gonna make me bust, little one. Gonna make me…” 
He moaned as he climaxed and his cum pulsed inside of you. Your body bowed as he brushed along a sensitive, sweet spot that made your eyes roll back in your head. He shoved his hips forward and it made your ass sit higher in the air. His groans were a sweet symphony to your ears. 
He finally stopped, leaning over you as he huffed and tried to recover. “Shit,” he whispered. He pushed off of you and slipped out. He gripped your ass cheeks and spread them open even more and watched his cum leak out. 
“So fuckin’ pretty. Pretty ass pussy,” he moaned. Your pussy clenched painfully at his words and he groaned at the sight.
One of his hands left you and then he was lifting his glass from the nightstand. He took a sip with a satisfied grunt. He placed the cold glass against your heated pussy and you shrieked, trying to move away from him.
He held the glass to your pussy and the icy glass had you shivering and shaking. “Ouue shit,” you moaned. 
He swirled the glass in your essence and leaned down to place his lips to your ass. “I can’t get enough of you,” he said. He bit your ass.
“Fuckin’ same. Same,” you panted. He removed the glass and took another sip. You didn’t know what he did but he moaned. 
“Let’s see what else I can do while I got you spread open for me,” he said.
“Mercy, mercy,” you moaned. Your fingers dug into the velcro straps but you couldn’t get free. Totally at his mercy. 
“You know what to say,” he said. 
You bit your lip. If you used your safe word, he would stop and unstrap you. He’d check in with you and you’d be forced to talk it out. You didn’t want that. You found nirvana and you wanted to keep going. But fuck, you could use a break.
“I’m at yellow but I’m okay,” you finally said.
“Are you sure?” He asked. 
“Yes. I’m sure. Keep going,” you said. 
Tre kissed your lower back. “That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He proceeded to beat the brakes off of you and you were sure you died somewhere in there. But what’s dying compared to being completely possessed by someone you lov-liked.
Someone you liked. Shit.
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Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 - Completed
288 notes · View notes
1800-page-not-found · 3 months
Note
Man my friend likes to tease me for liking kdj and she drew kdj being alone on his birthday and he looked so sad 😭😭😭😭😭 it was even worse when i realised his birthday was a day after valentines 😭😭😭 can i request reader celebrating kdj's birthday and making a surprise for him or something, spoiling him?
Yes ofc omg xx
its summer so i should have enough time to get through everyone's req yippee
-
Although the apocalypse took a toll on everyone's minds, you never forgot his birthday. How could you? After all, you cared for him so much.
When Kim Dokja first opened up to you, he told you that he never really celebrated his birthday. After all, who would he spend it with? Besides, even if he invited say, colleagues, they would all be busy, after all, it was the day after Valentines Day. Everyone had a lover but him.
It was you who changed his routine, and it was you who allowed him to look forward to tomorrow.
It was supposed to be the first birthday you'd spend together, but then his fantasy came crashing down onto his reality.
He was never the kind of person to hope for something...but maybe...maybe you would remember.
It was fine if you forgot...the apocalypse was more important.
The morning of his birthday, you told him to meet him in an alleyway after dinner for something special. It wasn't really a surprise, but it didn't matter, you remembered. What gift could be better than that?
-
Throughout the day, everyone had wished him happy birthday. Even Yoo Joonghyuk. (Who although actually didn't say it, once he found out it was Dokja's birthday, he acted a little less violent.)
Finally, dinner had been eaten. Everyone was getting ready to take a good nights rest. Kim dokja stood up and walked out.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Han Sooyoung shouted at Kim Dokja. He smiled and turned around. Although she couldn't see his face, due to the fourth wall, it was unmistakable that Dokja was very happy.
"Just somewhere." He smiled, humming to himself as he walked to the alleyway. When he turned the corner, he realized how clean it was.
Flower petals adorned the sides of the alleyway, and hanging lights swayed above him. A small green tent was at the end of the alley, a warm faint glow came within, and Dokja walked closer.
He opened the entrance to the tent, and you looked up at him, smiling with a warmth he would only feel with you.
"You made it." You whispered, beckoning him to sit on the pillow placed on the ground, across from you. Between the both of you was a small square table where a lovely cake sat on top.
"Of course."
"Happy Birthday, Kim Dokja. I hope I get to spend every birthday you have with you."
You place the sparkling candles on the cake, and light them. Gold sparks fly as Kim Dokja closes his eyes, making a wish.
I hope everyone will be happy in the future.
He opened his eyes, watching the sparks slowly calm down.
"I have a birthday gift for you." You reach beside you and hand him a box tied with a ribbon.
He pulled the tail of the bow, undoing the ribbon which kept the box together. The box unfolded, and in it were pictures and memories of the two of you.
"How did you capture this?" He asked, amazed. This was the first time he had received such a thoughtful gift.
"I used an item, Uriel had gifted to me when I prepared your gift."
At the bottom of the box, was a ring. "Think of it as a promise ring. Let's settle down after this apocalypse. I want my memories to be filled with you."
Kim Dokja started to cry, sniffling as he put on the ring. A description of the ring came up.
-
-Kim Dokja's Ring-
Rating:SSS
Description
Part of [L. Name] [Name]'s life essence is stored in this ring.
A powerful being's wish is stored in this ring.
Requirements
Must be Kim Dokja
When hit with a fatal blow, Kim Dokja will not die. [Uses, 3]
Stamina +10
Strength +35
-
"I...I...You did this just for me?..."
"Kim Dokja. You are not alone. The 'Dok' in Dokja stands for reader. Please, don't throw yourself into situations recklessly. We care for you."
"I'll keep that in mind"
"Promise?"
"Promise."
120 notes · View notes
beababoobies · 8 months
Note
Oh, oh! I love him this snake boy so much! May I request a sort of part two to Somethin’ Stupid where it fouces on their relationship afterwards?
Pentious getting the love he deserves? Yes. Absolutely. I’m on it. You got it boss, we love the silly snake boy!
Somethin’ Stupid - Part 2.
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part one here! Sir Pentious x Reader. words : 1k.
Ever since that night - full of tears and embraces, kisses, and even some discovers of more of a certain body part than you had expected - your life at the hotel at flipped. It went from dejected rehabilitation as your complete last resort to something out of one of those stupid teen romance books you read when you were still alive. 
Your days were still spent trying to get into Heaven, sure. You still had to do all the motions of rehabilitation, you still had to get up early and deal with Angel and Husks’ bickering, your favourite wall being consistently blown up, and Charlies’ occasional toxic positivity breakdowns where you were worked out of your mind. But you did it hand in hand with your anxious, yet charming serpent boyfriend. 
You spent your nights cuddled up against him, you had even given up your room to share one with him. You had also learned that he could shed. Not your favourite thing about it, to put it nicely, but you accepted every part of your little ball of insecurity. Because he was your little ball of insecurity. And he made you feel like the prettiest sinner in every ring of hell. 
He would bring you flowers, compliment you at any chance you wanted. He was good in bed - though that was just a bonus. He listened patiently, and he gave you your space. And now that you could actually get close to him, you discovered that not only was he adorable, he was also your new best friend. Your personalities fit together like a puzzle piece.
And here you were, thinking all this, cuddled up against him with him gently holding you to his chest, listening to him go on about his old rivalry and big fights. His egg boys - who were practically now your egg boys as well, and you loved them dearly. He started on about how he admired you for so long. This, you wouldn’t mind listening to. 
“I thought you were the mosssst beautiful a ssssinner could be.” He says with a soft sigh, hand rubbing small anxious circles into your back. “Thought you had to be an Angel, becausssse I didn’t know ssssinnerssss could be that angelic.” He hums out, pressings a kiss to the top of your head, cuddling up against you, feeling content. He looked the most relaxed in the past weeks than you’d ever seen him. 
“You were very.. oddly charming.” You day with a small giggle, looking up to see him all pouty and confused, making the smile on your face grow wider as you try not to laugh at his expense. “You’re clumsy, and anxious but.. you don’t try to hide it behind anger.” You say as you lean up and peck his cheek, watching his face grow red. You sigh contently. “You’re so unforgivably vulnerable and that’s why I love you so hard.” 
He melts at your words, bottom lip trembling and you giggle, nuzzling your cheek against his before noticing his state, tears forming in his eyes as he tries to hold back tears. “Are you about to cry?” You say with a small giggle, gently holding his face in you palm, sighing softly. “‘S okay baby, you can cry around me.” You say with a genuinely smile.
He bursts out into a half-sob half-rant about how lucky he is to have you, how he doesn’t even believe you’re real because you’re so pretty. You listen to it with a big smile and it gets so sweet you even feel tears forming in your eyes, using your thumbs to wipe the tears away from the face of the man you love oh so much. 
“I jusssst - jussst love being around you. Can’t believe i’m with you. That you l- like me! Me! I feel like I ssshould be calling up my mom, telling her I made it.” He says between sobs and sniffles, and all you can do is nod along with his words. Sighing softly as you watch him pour out all his loving emotions to you. “I ssstood there for monthsss, thinking I don’t have a chance. Sssshouldn’t even talk to you. But I don’t even want redemption now. I have my Heaven right here..” he mumbles out the last part, looking up at you with those teary eyes, hiccuping softly.
“I think Heaven might suit you a lot better, though.” You say sweetly, gently leaning down to press another kiss to his other, now tear-soaked cheek. “Think they need someone as kind as you up there.” You say reassuringly, watching him shake his head, making you smile. “Don’t want redemption. I have you.” He says again, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.
“Y-you know.” He starts, raising one of his hands to cup at your cheek, and so you take one of your hands from his face and cradle it against his gentle and loving touch, raising your eyebrows. “I know?” You question with a smile, watching him smile. 
“I’m glad I went and ssssaid ssssomethin’ ssstupid like….” He pauses, realizing he hasn’t said it since, piercing his lips together as he realizes the awkward situation he’s put himself in. You chuckle softly and squeeze his hand, getting his attention back on you.
“I love you?” You question, ending his statement for him. You watch as he lights up all over again, eyes still wet with tears, agreeing to your statement with a kiss, before pulling away. He nods again. 
“I love you.” 
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