#THEY R SO SOFT IT MAKES ME UGLY CRY

[luveline]

you can ignore me for the rest of time and I will still dutifully show up to read your work every day ~ can I request some angsty bombshell x spencer? maybe their first actual fight and spence snaps at her so bombshell r crying and locks herself in their room and he apologizes through the door but still sleeps on the couch and she comes and snuggles in the middle of the night and forgives him bc she can’t sleep? this is so self indulgent pls feel free to change anything you want love you jade

thank u for requesting! —spencer makes you cry. fem, 1k

Spencer can’t stand hearing you cry. He can’t believe he’s the one who caused it —he didn’t mean to, he just got so annoyed at you, everything’s difficult lately now you’ve moved in together permanently because you practically living at his apartment is apparently not the same as truly living with one another. 

He knows neither of you are unhappy living together, but you haven’t fought before, not like this. He stands just outside the bedroom door where you’ve sequestered yourself, ashamed of making you this upset. He doesn’t let himself in. “Y/N?” 

“Go away, Spencer,” you say. To your credit, you try to sound calmer than you are. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Please don’t cry.” 

“Spencer,” you say, a line of anger darkening your words, “leave me alone.” 

He shouldn’t have said you were being lazy. You aren’t lazy, you’re tired. Moving in together has been really hard on you, even if you won’t admit it, or show it externally. He just wanted to say something mean, because you’d said you allowed him to have that ugly armchair in the living room and he got mad —it’s not ugly, and he wasn’t allowed, he’s a grown man. 

He just can’t feel angry about it anymore hearing your sad sniffling. He said something too mean, he took it too far, and maybe he was ‘allowed’. Moving in together is about compromise, and you’d compromised, and he’s punishing you for it. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I– I was being mean and you didn’t deserve that. I’ll be out here if you… if you wanna talk to me,” he says, turning to leave with his head held low. 

He waits all night for you to come out, if it were just to drink some water or use the bathroom, but after a few minutes he can’t hear you crying, and you don’t make any sounds. He thinks he might hear you moving the sheets aside some time toward 10PM, but there’s nothing after that. He falls asleep on the couch, sulking, wishing he hadn’t been such an idiot. 

You let yourself out of your shared bedroom in the middle of the night. The sheets don’t smell enough like him, and you want to hold his hand, and you want to know he’s really not mad at you. That he doesn’t really think you’re lazy. 

Quiet, you walk downstairs and into the living room, where Spencer sleeps stretched out on the couch. It’s a big couch, meant for soft sitting, wide enough that, were you to set a baby down, they couldn’t roll off accidentally. Spencer’s on his side with his arm curled around one of the bigger pillows, brown strands of hair falling into his face.

He’s not a deep sleeper, but you can’t say you’re scared to wake him. You pull the pillow from his arms and sit on the couch beside him, working your way into his side, and encouraging his arm over yours. Gentle, you brush the mess of his hair from his eyes. He doesn’t even have a blanket.

You hold his sleeping face in your hands. His eyes twitch and scrunch tighter at your touching, worried, but you give a gentle, “Shh,” and he relaxes. His eyes smooth, then open, lashes struggling apart, the brown of his eyes dark as a roasted chestnut. 

He whispers your name, tongue heavy with sleep. 

“Mm,” you reply, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You press your face to his neck, letting yourself deflate as you wait for his arms to lock you in. It can’t be five seconds before he’s curling his arms around you carefully, kissing your hairline, the first bit of skin he can reach at this angle. He’s not quite awake yet, you know, can tell from countless times sleeping in his bed. If he were to fall back to sleep, he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. 

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper.

“Oh,” he says, with all the tenderness of a pet name, dripping, palpable adoring, “want tea?” 

“Want you.” 

He strokes your shoulder. You’re the one being hugged, really, but Spencer’s grip gets so tight you worry he needs one. You wrap your arms behind him, close your eyes tight to stop from getting teary. 

“I don’t like fighting,” you say. 

“M’sorry.” 

“Do you want to kiss and make up?” 

He stills. “You’re not mad?” 

“You really upset me, Spence. N’ I bet you know that n’ feel bad enough already,” you mumble. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was being childish.” 

You forgive him. Everybody’s allowed to be mean every once in a while. You’d been arguing, and you can feel now that he regrets it, his hands apprehensive but somehow loving still as they touch your back through the thin fabric of a t-shirt he’d bought you. The front has a silly graphic on it, some equation that spells out love. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m not mad. I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me, so… Let’s not fight again.” 

“I don’t like it when you cry.” 

You shake your head gently, slotting yourself into all his nooks and crevices. Your legs tangled, the couch is an ample bed for two people trying to be as close to each other as humanly possible. You don’t like crying either, not over Spencer, not thinking he doesn’t see you in the light you’d thought he did. 

“Do you really think I’m lazy?” you ask. 

“No, I was being awful,” he says, sounding deeply repentant. 

Well, there’s no need to punish him, you decide, not when he’s beating himself up already. You cup the back of his head to tap your foreheads together, any aches and pains of the bed disappearing in the eye of his softness. He’s gaining confidence now you’ve touched his hair, his hands travelling low to the small of your back, your face once again pushed into the curve of his neck, where you stay. 

[sturnioloshacker]

love all of you - a matt sturniolo short smut

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: slight angst, mentions of self-harm, mentions of sh scars, insecurities, praise kink, vanilla sex, soft sex, creampie, smut, fluff at the end. this is an 18+ nsfw short so minors please do not interact! the smut that is written is fictional so please don’t take it seriously!

summary: matt’s gf is insecure of her self-harm scars during their first time to which matt reassures and shows her how much he loves her through kissing and sweet loving soft sex

matt leads me into bed, slowly bringing himself down with me so that he’s on top, our lips still connected in a passionate kiss. he pulls away from the kiss to lift my top up and over my head, stopping to look at my body. shit. my scars. i quickly snatch the top from his hands and push it back over my head and down to hide what i’ve been insecure about since high school. 

“baby…”

“no! don’t look at me!”

i turn away from matt, tears clumping together on my lash line. my first time with matt has now been ruined by my biggest insecurity. great. i’ve been wanting to have sex with matt for so long and now i can’t even bear to look at him because he’s seen it all. he probably hates me now, probably wants to break up with me. honestly, better for him, seeing that i’m so ugly with these scars and he’s so pretty.

“princess, please look at me.”

“why matt? so you can laugh at me and embarrass me?”

“what? no! not at all! i’m worried about you, is everything okay?”

i turn back to matt, his eyes all glassy like he himself is about to cry. i tell him my story through choked sobs and long sniffles and i can tell his heart is shattering the more he listens. 

“y/n, my love, my princess, my whole entire world. scars or not, you’re truly the most beautiful girl i have ever met and i’m so happy to have you as my girlfriend.” 

“really?”

“yes, really.”

“prove it to me then.”

matt kisses my lips once more before making his way down to my neck. he tugs at the hem of my top, asking to take it off. i nod my head and he swiftly removes it and tosses it into a corner of the room. 

“so pretty. i can’t believe you’re all mine.”

matt continues his trail of kisses down my body, unclasping my bra in the process. his kisses trail down until they stop at the waistband of my sweats. 

“can i take these off, please?”

i slowly nod my head, watching him as he slowly moves my sweats down my legs, each scar being revealed one by one. i feel the tears roll down my cheeks again as matt kisses each scar, taking extra time on the bigger ones. he softly pulls at my panties, looking at me for approval to take them off. i bring my hands to his, helping him pull them down.

“are you sure, princess? you ready for this?”

“yes, matt. i’m ready.”

he removes his own sweats and underwear, revealing his semi-hard cock. he spits on his hand, lubing himself up and getting fully erect before pushing himself inside me. we both moan at the intense pleasure. i adjust to his size and he slowly rocks in and out. 

“mmm, matt! that feels so good, keep going!” i moan out

matt quickens the pace slightly and i’m in heaven. he feels so good inside me i can’t help but moan and chant his name like a spell. he presses kisses to the scars on my tummy followed by soft strokes of his fingers on them. he wraps his arms around me, holding me close as he softly yet passionately fucks my walls. 

“oh, matt! please don’t stop, i’m so close!”

“same here, princess, you feel unreal!” 

i feel myself cumming on matt’s cock, both of us watching my juices drip down. matt’s thrusts get sloppy as he releases inside me, his warm seed filling me up. he pulls out and we stay wrapped up in each other’s arms before he gets up to run a bath for the both of us. matt helps me up and carries me bridal style to the tub of bubbly water. We cuddle up in the tub, matt softly scrubbing my scars, making sure they’re clean. 

“you’re so beautiful, princess. i love you so much, i love all of you, remember that.”

“i love you so much, matt. thank you for best the boyfriend ever!”

to the beautiful anon who requested this: whether you have scars or no scars, you my love are absolutely gorgeous. please don’t hurt yourself because others are hurting you. keep being the amazing human being you are and i love you so much. if you need anything at all, i'm here for you. and that goes for all of my lovely followers. if you’re struggling, please don’t be afraid to send me a dm. please seek help, please don’t hurt yourself. i love you 🧡

[euphoric-daylight]

― Little Pest-!

[ For the people that are waiting for the drawings or memes, plz wait a bit more, My phone is too fucked up rn ]

Tintin and GN!Reader taking care of a Child

It all starts with a quiet day in Brussels, exactly on October 3 on a cold but calm morning, enough for the two to go together to have a coffee at that time

— I think I should visit my aunt, she has only just arrived in Brussels but she has been busy working

You speak with a soft and calm tone while drinking coffee to keep yourself active, Tin shows curiosity when hearing about your family, he really hadn't heard you talk much about them so he thinks it's a good idea to go and meet your family.

— Sounds perfect, anyway Haddock said he would be with Calculus taking care of his new roses

Tin spoke in a kind way but he really seemed enthusiastic, he wanted to make a good impression with your family.

The two arrive at the door of the house after a while, you knock firmly on the door……

The door is opened by a child of just 10 years old, who showed a grimace of disgust when he saw Tin, obviously he recognized you instantly and let you in but after you passed he closed the door on Tin in the house.

(Insert the name of the little monkey, idk, i hate that child, so im gonna put C!__ when the child's name is necessary)

— C!___-! What are you doing? That is my boyfriend!

You quickly open the door showing Tin's face, somewhat surprised by the child's behavior but also somewhat irritated although he does not want to accept it, he quickly manages to calm down and be more friendly because obviously he does not want to be rude to the child.

The child seems upset that you let the carrot head into his house, acting angry and obviously expressing his displeasure

— Why did you have to choose this red head as your boyfriend? Obviously you gave him a little scolding for being so rude to your boyfriend, so you got a little closer to him and told him.

—You shouldn't treat people who come to visit like that, Tintin didn't do anything to you, we just came to say hello to my aunt.

The boy found this news even worse, so he tried to pretend like he didn't care in the slightest, but the minute you left Tin alone, the boy returned from his room.

— You look strange, why are you so ugly and baby-faced?

Tin is slightly stoic about the situation, trying to remain calm and collected.

— I don't have a baby face.

Tin tries to look for you to get the boy to stop bothering him and end his patience right now, the boy is obviously still making mocking faces behind him.

— That's right, look for your partner like the fearful person you are.

The boy told him in a mocking manner while he was bothering Tin, trying to climb into his arms.

Tin finally thought that the boy was going to stop bothering him but he was wrong, with the boy being in his arms…. He pulls Tin's hair, making Tin quickly grab the boy by the hand to stop him from doing that

— You should behave better with someone older than you.

Tin spoke irritably, slightly biting his tongue to calm himself down a bit and quickly taking the child out of his arms making the child cry.

You were in the kitchen trying to cook something to eat for everyone while they wait for your aunt, when you hear the crying you quickly see what is happening.

— What happened??

You speak in a somewhat upset manner when you see the child crying and Tin with a slightly upset face

Tin takes a breath to calm down while you try to calm the child but he wouldn't stop crying.

— He hasn't stopped bothering me since we arrived.

You look at the boy with an irritated face upon hearing that while the boy quickly walks away knowing that you obviously knew the truth.

— Don't worry, sweetie…. My aunt said she won't be long to get home

Slowly you approach him to hug him in a friendly way, you can feel how his body slightly stops being tense and he tries to be calm, accompanying you to the kitchen and helping you cook.

You can see the boy peeking his head out from the door frame, you really didn't pay much attention.

After a few moments, Tin's hand slowly slides from your shoulder to your hip, caressing that part lovingly and giving you kisses on the cheek until C!__ pours water on both of them with a squirt gun to make them dry. separate

— Okay, I've had enough.

Tin quickly approaches C!___, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt as if he were a cat, sitting him in a baby chair and putting the belt on him so he doesn't get out.

— Stay here.

Tin speaks coldly and quickly returns to your side, the two of you hear the door of the house opening.

Finally your aunt had arrived and the child tried to victimize himself by crying, at first it helped but you quickly explained what happened

bt: The child got kicked out from his house (jk) Sorry for no posting anything in a month, i was on a trip with my parents to have a breath from the problems but now i feel worse im sorry if i don't know how to make Tintin be more canon

[atopvisenyashill]

general thoughts

damn we started this season strong but once we get past the first catelyn scene it started making me mad lmao

once again…..ATE these bitches up and LEFT NO CRUMBS

shae screaming at tyrion after he tells her to shush is so funny

see this sex scene is fine, whether renly can get it up is actually plot relevant and they’re trying to characterize margaery as a proper player, and show renly is kind of in over his head as well. like it’s a topless scene that at least makes sense to be there.

theon writing then burning a letter warning robb about the attack……….

another sex scene and this time it’s a crazy joffrey one.

oh fuck i completely forgot about dany lmao

cat pulling a knife on petyr. listen i don’t think stoneheart will kill petyr but damn hot damn. do i want catelyn to rip him to pieces slowly ramsay snow style. i can’t wait for red wedding 2.0 that’s the main reason i need the winds of winter, i need to see cat go INSANE killing a few pathetic freys isn’t enough I NEED A REAL WAR CRIME I NEED HER SLAUGHTERING INNOCENT BABIES LET HER ENTER HER VILLAIN ERA FOR REAL

“for the sake of the mother who bore us” CASSANA ESTERMONT MENTION LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

can i say i think finn (loras) isn’t that good here either

cersei day drinking omg she is so slushed right now when she raised her cup and slurs out “and i say we should thank them”

the tyrion and lancel scene is so good lmao

now what is the point of this random tiff between irri and doreah

this whole scene where dany is scolding aggo and jhogo over trying to steal something from xaro and then her & jorah talk about how savage the dothraki are……did i just experience a racism akskdjd

when catelyn takes brienne’s hand to swear to her and brienne’s face goes so soft, like she wasn’t expecting the affection. gwendoline christie u r a genius and an icon to all queer people everywhere

i might do something with bran and osha first, they make my heart so soft

changes i noticed

i adore shae & sansa. i love this change i think it’s the best change they ever did. the way sansa just went through this intense dinner & is taking her anger out on shae, just a lowly maid, but shae is so unflappable & notices sansa is crying and just decides to stop bitching. sansa wanting someone to brush her hair when one of the first scenes we got of her was catelyn brushing sansa’s hair…

keeping lommy saying he’ll yield and his murder when he asks to be carried but not the original “what do i do if the wolves come” “yield” joke is so fucking LAME I HATE THESE PEOPLE

talisa…….do i do my talisa rant now or later. do i get super high when i rant so it’s funnier and i don’t get legit angry like i want to omg the westerling disrespect never ends

so the margaery character change is the next big one (i’m not ranting about talisa yet). i understand wanting to focus in on her, how she plays the game, how she ~weaponizes~ her femininity in order to gain status. the thing is. i don’t like the ultimate decision to make margaery & olenna the acting heads of their houses when in reality, the tyrell plot is often olenna trying to act AROUND her dumb ass son!! i think this goes back to aging up those 14 year old characters - just makes their stories a bit hollow imo. also this first dress is so ugly omgggg

WAIT I JUST REALIZED THEY CUT WEASEL??? THE GIRL IS IMPORTANT TOO YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING FUCKS

i love to drag dany for naivety in Qarth but this adaption isn’t even naivety it’s just stupidity. she just throws a fit on their doorstep, makes some threats, and thinks that’s gonna get her inside. when i tell you how much i fucking hate dany’s story in s2. is dany actually learning about politics & magic not interesting??? compared to this temper tantrum?!??????

show renly and robb should have hooked up

…..details are fuzzy but iirc brienne doesn’t kill anyone here? catelyn convinces robar royce to let her go, and then LORAS kills them & he believes that brienne killed renly until jaime says otherwise

i will give them “i want to be THE queen” is such a good line

i don’t care for the roose/tywin change. they could have cast someone with more star power as roose if they really just wanted to have maisie playing off someone cool for a few episodes.

i have a conspiracy theory i’m not ready to share yet. we’ll circle back next season.

[hamsterclaw]

You r never disappointing, i swear you're the one that keeps the Hoseok/YN Tag alive and going.

Hi lovely, you're in for a TREAT today. I went on one checking out my reblogs for all my fave Hoseok fics and here they are, a curated list of all the banging Hoseok fics that keep Hoseok/YN alive.

Category: Mafia Hobi/gang Hobi

Look no further than the sublime writing of @xjoonchildx - the Hobi in the drabble Close Call is only a taste of how excellent the Gentlemen of the Gajog series is, featuring the rapline.

I've re-read Heartbeat by @joonbird so many times because this Hobi's written so perfectly - a sexy, tough guy who's decent and insecure underneath and also so so so so hot.

Category: Sweet husband Hobi

@bonvoyagenoona is the writer I admire and aspire to be like. I got on AO3 just so I could read her writing. I adore all her work and The Cul-de-Sac cons is the story I come back to when I want to escape, genuinely escape. JK is the romantic pairing but the Hobi in this is such a sweetheart.

Lawn boy Hobi in Hot and Bothered by @sahmfanficbts is glorious crack at its very best. Sam's devoted to Namjoon but when she branches out, it's still ace.

Category: Soft Hobi/nice guy Hobi

Project Dream Girl, a holiday story that's heartwarming and snuggly and full of brilliant details, also written by @bonvoyagenoona She writes with such compassion and feeling I will never get over it.

I've lamented more than once that @gukslut is no longer active because her writing is incredible and if I could only read stories from one writer ever it would be her. The Holiday Hobi is a perfect mix of filthy and sweet.

Useless Magic by @reliablemitten is a feel-good romp of a story with clever, clever writing featuring a sexy banker Joon and a sweet sweet Hobi who teaches toddlers.

There's something about Hobi in the holidays, and Ho-ho-horrible by @ugh-yoongi is a sweet, heartwarming tale of a thoroughly decent Hobi.

For the first time by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids is beautifully written, and features a sexy neighbour Hobi.

Category: Sexy boss Hobi, with a helping of angst

I read the entirety of Jungle Park by the very excellent @jimlingss in one night. I've been reeling ever since. It's perfect. I've never seen better.

Category: Kinky Hobi

@btssmutgalore writes kinks in the most beautiful and inclusive way. Pas de Trois is so incredibly hot and also features a side of JK.

Category: Fuckboi Hobi

An underwritten trope, imo. The Hobi in Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la is so funny and charming you're pulled in no matter that your thoughts are on that airport outfit.

Flip & Reverse It by @neonlights92 is funny, smart and so so entertaining, check it out, it's the best laugh you'll have all day.

Fuckboi rapper Hobi in Holiday Inn by @bangtanintotheroom is frankly irresistible and it's futile to even try.

I think putting Party Time by @sugakookitty under this category is underselling this Hobi because frankly, he's sexy, unhinged and way too entertaining for his own good.

Category: Historical Hobi

The Hobi in Kanalia by @xjoonchildx is the ultimate brooding sexy man of few words.

Category: Spy Hobi

Lightning never strikes twice by @vyduan is clever, sparky and so so funny.

Category: Supervillian Hobi

Versus by @minisugakoobies featuring Yoongi, Hobi and Namjoon and a kickass superhero lead, is one of the funniest and crackiest fics I've read on here.

Category: Demon Hobi

I honestly think about the demon Hobi from Not today, Satan, written brilliantly by @gimmethatagustd all the time, and the outrageous MC too.

Same for this unexpectedly soft sleep paralysis demon Hobi in Whispers in the Dark from the brilliant mind of @miscelunaaa .

Category: Crack Hobi

This tentacle-wielding, dancing Cthoseok from Unspeakable Horrors by @thatlongspringnight is straight-up crack and makes me ugly laugh.

Popping these at the end because they make me laugh every time:

@bang-tan 's fake subtitles in this have me crying.

@jeonjapan's hixtape tracklist is gold.

So hey, anon, for you and for me, Hobi's got a lot of strong players in his corner and writers who write him like he's the king he is. Happy birthday month, Hobi! 💜

[kimetsu-chan]

idk if this could be an emergency request or not, you can determine that yourself:)

can i request Zeno x female reader who’s insecure? like, she’s insecure about her smile, her body, acne, and a big insecurity is her personality?

you don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable with it:)

~The Way You Are~

A/N: of course I can love. And in want to let you know, that you are absolutely drop dead gorgeous. You should srsly become a model. I hope this can provide you some comfort and I hope you will soon be able to realize how amazing and beautiful you are :) ily ♥️

Zeno and reader are in an established relationship

TWs: Reader is insecure and has some dysphoria

Zeno was working away at his computer in his room. Well, technically it was [Name]’s room, but he was at her house so often it was practically his room too.

He was finishing up some assignments for school when he felt a pair of arms wrap around loosely around his neck. He smiled to himself as he very much enjoyed his girlfriend’s clingy nature. He reached a hand back to ruffle the girl’s hair as a show of his affection. He would have thought she was just being her usual clingy self, but he heard a soft sniffle. And that worried him to no end.

A frown immediately took over his face as his attention was ripped from his assignment to focus on [Name].

“Babe? You okay?”

No answer.

Zeno was going to ask again when he felt her shaking ever so slightly and he heard the sound of soft crying.

Zeno panicked internally as he turned in his chair to face her. He studied her face and his frown deepened as he took in the sight before him.

[Name] had tears brimming her eyes and her bottom lip was quivering. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep the tears from falling, she had already let a few slip.

[Name] was very hesitant to confide in her boyfriend for she didn’t want to bother him. But she knew that Zeno wouldn’t let her go without telling him what was wrong.

Zeno lifted the girl and pulled her into his lap. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before moving his hands to cup her cheeks.

“Are you sad?”

There was a small, shy nod from the girl.

“Yeah? Okay… do you wanna talk about it?”

There was a bit of hesitation, but after a few seconds, [Name] nodded slowly. She took a few shaky breaths before starting to speak.

“I-I just feel��� really really insecure r-right now…”

Zeno nodded with a hum to show he was listening intently. He stayed quiet so she could finish explaining her feelings before he gave her his input.

“I-I hate the way it feels, but I can’t help it… I want it to st-stop but I don’t know how to make it stop.”

A few stray tears began to slip down her face and Zeno was quick to wipe them away. Seeing that she was seemingly done with her explaining, he asked her a question in the quietest and gentlest voice he could muster.

“Can you tell me what exactly you’re feeling insecure about?”

This elicited another small nod from [Name] and she took a deep breath.

“I feel… like I’m a bit too clingy… like, I feel like I’m too much. And I don’t want to be a bother… A-And I hate the way I look, I feel ugly because of my acne and I h-hate my smile.”

Zeno shook his head before placing a kiss to her forehead.

“No, you’re not too clingy. I really like your clingy-ness. It reminds me that you love me. Please don’t ever stop.”

[Name]’s eyes lit up every so slightly. Zeno knew exactly what to say as she has expressed insecurity about her personality to him before.

“R-Really?! You… you mean it? It’s not annoying?”

Zeno gave her a bittersweet smile as his thumbs ran gently across her cheeks, effectively wiping away her tears.

“Hun, I wouldn’t lie to you. Especially not about this.”

Before she could say anything else, he continued.

“And it’s okay to need some validation every now and then. I’m glad you feel like you can tell me when you feel these things. I will always be more than willing to ramble about how much I love you and how pretty you are.”

Zeno could tell that [Name] was having a hard time right now, and he wanted to help her feel better. He pressed a kiss to her nose, then to her forehead.

“I still love you.”

With hands still cupping her cheeks, her pressed a another soft kiss to a cluster of acne on one cheek, then the other.

“Even with all these “flaws” you think you have.”

He ended his monologue with a kiss to her lips.

When he pulled away he smiled at her. He hoped he was able to get through to her, which he was.

“I love you…”

Zeno’s smile became bright as he peppered her face in tiny kisses.

“I love you too, [Name].”

A/N: “You don’t know that you’re beautiful” started playing as I wrote this. Larz, it’s a sign, m’kay? Larz you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Both inside and out.

This is not proofread, so please let me know if there are any mistakes 😓

[vajigglejjaggles]

I can be both soft and hard at the same time. Just because I’ve shown you parts of me, doesn’t mean you understand the whole. I’m complex. I will hide the parts of me that I feel are too ugly to be seen. If all I’ve shown you is my soft side, it’s because I didn’t want you to see how destructive my thoughts, words, and actions can be.

But maybe I shouldn’t hide that part of myself. I do want to be loved, fully, one day. All of me, good and bad.

I love wide open spaces, forests and prairies. Anywhere in nature that makes me feel “home”.

I cry, a lot. I cry when I watch commercials about babies and animals. I cry over the state of the world. I cry over injustice. I cry when I feel genuine happiness, like a cloud hovering over me letting lose, whether happy or sad. I cry when I feel something just a little too much.

I love wild flowers, not cliche bouquets of roses. I love the smell of honeysuckle on a hot summer day because it reminds me of my childhood, before the reality of the trauma I grew up in set in.

I love horses and dogs. I love the smell of a puppies breath.

I love music, and how it makes me want to dance uninhibited, completely ignoring my lack of rhythm and balance.

I love the pain of a tattoo or piercing needle, because it helps the pain I feel inside escape without the result being an ugly scar I have to explain to whoever sees me naked next.

I love thunderstorms and standing barefoot in the rain, letting it wash away all of my intrusive thoughts.

I love riding down back roads, windows down, music drowning out my voice as I all but scream the lyrics that resonate with my soul.

I love dressing up, pretending like I’m classy and put together all of the time when in reality, I’m a chaotic mess of tangled hair in jeans and a plain tshirt.

I love my family even though I wish me were less dysfunctional & tighter knit. I envy the daughters that have good relationships with their parents and siblings.

I love to laugh. I’ve spent so many years not laughing, I will take any and every opportunity to let that hideous laugh erupt from my chest. When I’m left wheezing, gasping for air is when it’s the best.

I love fire, watching it burn wood to ash.

I love 90s R&B, country, alternative grunge, rock, indie, pop, hip hop, rap…but neo-soul will always have my heart.

I love ambient lighting, soft glows..easy on the eyes and mind.

I love driving around the city late at night, when the streets are mostly empty and I can imagine what life would’ve been like if I had left my hometown after graduation instead of following the path I found myself on.

I love love. I haven’t experienced it in two decades. Not the passionate, requited kind anyway. I love learning someone. The good, bad, and in between. The way they smell, the way they breathe when they’re at peace. How they like their breakfast, or coffee. What songs they listen to when they’re happy, sad, or in between. Their love language, so I can love them in whatever form they best receive it. Their dreams and passions, the things that make their eyes light up when they think no one is watching. All of the things that make them sad, so I can be the buffer between them & whatever it is that takes their smile from their face.

I love kissing. Passionate and full of emotion. I spent well over a decade accepting that I would only ever be kissed on the cheek - like some acquaintance. So when we agreed to divorce, I promised myself I would never indulge in anything that lacked passion and feeling ever again.

I love traveling, learning about and experiencing new cultures and ways of life.

I love talking, deep think pieces, not surface level chitchat.

I love tequila and the way it blocks all of my inhibitions.

I love twilight, fireflies, and the smell of hot pavement after a summer rainstorm.

I love books. Transporting to other worlds, feeling every emotion with the characters. The way the pages smell, the way the spine cracks when you open it. I used to read multiple novels a day, it was the most peaceful escape.

I love skating, riding horses, riding bikes, wading through a creek, watching rollie pollies, laying in green soft grass and making out shapes in the clouds.

I love showering in the dark by candlelight. It’s relaxing & intimate.

I love when someone tells me something reminds them of me.

I love my son. Some may think I’m a helicopter parent who isn’t allowing him to grow up but in reality, I’m just trying to preserve his youth and innocence for as long as I can. I’m lucky enough to have family who would do the same & make sure he is okay if anything ever happened to me. But, I don’t want him to look back at life and wish he hadn’t experienced “grown folk” issues so soon. I will support his innocence for as long as I can, because our children deserve to JUST be children while they can. I’m going to foster and feed his individuality, give him the space to figure out who he is and not who society wants him to be, defend him & protect him. It’s my job as his mother to make sure that I am not sending out another broken man into the world. He will know that emotions are healthy, be secure in who he is so that he doesn’t allow the opinions of others to influence his character or personality, and make sure that he knows how worthy he is. I cannot expect him to be good to others if I don’t show him that he should be good to himself first.

I guess I’m more than what I allow people to experience.

[hey-its-cweepy]

💞🥰 CarolChohee

🤝😟 MellowMomo

Hello hello! :)

You are going to absolutely hate Dallas for what I have in mind with Mellow x Momo if you don't already :)

CW: Violence mention (Momo and Mellow part only)

💞🥰 Cheeks + Gently

Cho-Hee was having a particularly bad day, staring at some of the scars that covered him from head to toe...

He wishes he didn't have them sometimes, but he'd rather have the dog attack him than his sister. Sometimes he wonders if people would be less intimidated by him without them...

To him, they are ugly, something that he'd rather hide away from the world, but it's an impossible task since they're all over him. On his face, his chest, his arms, his legs... He hated it...

Carol walks in on him as he's sulking in the gardens, he'd always go there if he didn't want to be seen by anyone...

"Cho-Hee, there you are! I was worried you-..." She paused for a moment "... Are you alright?..."

"U-Um..." Cho-Hee sighed, deciding to be honest with Carol "... Not... Exactly... I just think that maybe if I didn't have them, I could-"

"Cho-Hee..." Carol cuts him off mid-talk with a firm yet caring tone, her soft hands gently holding his cheeks as she makes him look her in the eye. "They don't deserve you if they're so easily scared off by how you look... I know you're one of the kindest people out there, sweetheart. If they're too scared to get close to you, that's their problem because they're really missing out..."

As Carol finished her words with a smile, Cho-hee leaned into her hands with teary eyes. "Do you... Really... Think so?..." He asked her.

"I know so." She answered, letting him pull her close to cry into her for a moment.

🤝😟 Hand + Worried

Mellow was just patching up Momo after what appeared to be an argument, she seemed insistent on keeping what happened a secret, rising some suspicion from Mellow...

"Y-You know... I can f-fix you up better in my d-dorm..." Mellow says, as he puts the last finishing touches.

"NO!" Momo jolted "U-Um!... N-No thank you, M-Mellow... Um... I-I think it's b-better I... D-Don't do that..."

"A-Are you sure? You seem pretty hurt and-"

"O-Oh! U-Um! L-Look at the t-t-time! I-I th-think my c-classes should be st-tarting soon! I-I'll see you l-later!" Momo nervously tried to slip away from the conversation...

"Momo, wait!" Mellow swiftly grabs her hand, a look of worry on his face.

Momo squeaks and turns to look at him, feeling very nervous.

"I-I don't know who the h-hell did this to you or if th-they're gonna do it again while you're w-walking down the h-halls or s-something like that" There seems to be genuine concern in his voice.

Momo feels upset that she has to hide this from him, but she'd rather go through it all again than risk Mellow getting hurt...

"I-I'm... I'm ok-kay... R-Really..." He struggles not to cry in front of Mellow.

"Momo... You know if something's wrong you can t-tell me..."

But Momo didn't want to tell him, Dallas already made it clear that there will be consequences... It was all because Dallas was jealous that Momo was starting to be friends with more people, after all, lots of people think Momo's cute in a way.

Dallas couldn't stand it, so he had resorted to violently picking on her, asking him what he'd do if it was someone else doing it to them. He called them weak, pathetic, hopeless...

Now she kind of feels like she's proving his point, but again, she'd rather not risk Mellow.

"Momo, please... If you c-can't tell me what's g-going on... At l-least let me p-properly t-take care of y-you..." Mellow pleaded.

"... U-Um-... I-I... Uh..." Momo was running out of excuses to leave the conversation.

"P-Please?..." He asked, a bit of hurt in his voice.

Momo seems very reluctant... She sighs, gently squeezing his hand "... O-Oh... O-Ok-kay... B-But only if you're th-there..."

"Thank you..." Mellow seemed a bit relieved as he quickly walks away with Momo.

Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching and he hated every second of it...

[cerealmonster15]

he looks like hes seen The horrors. all of them.

omg..... ant behavior.......... hell yeag....

GILLY BBYYYY

JFKDSLFJDKSL DONT WORRY it's happened to SEVERAL people that follow me by now and also i have accidentally unfollowed a few mutuals on mobile.... them buttons r slippery...

AWWW KWHFLDSKJF LITTLE HAPPY GUY KICKING HIS FEETS!!! i'd like to think he locked and deadbolted the door and turned on a white noise machine before having a private moment of soft glee bc this is nrc and no one must know of Joy and Whimsy

i like how they r both labled 1 lol WAHHFHSDFHDSLKFJDS CRYING SOBBING... bat papa lilia and birdie silver son..... so cute sobs... wow silver is in a reverse ugly duckling situation being raised by fae but hes like The Most Beautiful Boy Alive instead KLFJDSKLFJDSKL

NOOOO well he will be safe an happy forever if i never make it there JKFLJKWLHFKDJS 😭😭😭

the girlies are still going STRONG!!!

hehehehehehehehehhehehehehehehe. HEHEHEHE. he's plotting yet another proposal to get jamil to join his dorm, or his restaurant, or to be his husb-

FKJLDSJFKLDSF IDIAS GOING TO EXPLODE!!!! theyre sooooo cuuuuuuute WAUUGHHHH i love them. go caycay you can do it, whatever it is LOL

WAHHH MY BELOVED SONS ADEUCE THE OGS!!!! HELL YEAH!!!!

i wuv him FOREVER!!!

god me too most of my silver doodles remain in sketchbooks and are only when im brainstorming my kalisil fic fsdjklfjksdlj i love that his little antenna is ESCAPING

DONT CRUSH HIM !!!! jkldjsfkldsf the little shake lines make it look like the person is holding w/all their power and fucking strugling to keep this tiny peanut contained. hes gonna burst out at any second!!!

OMG MY GIRLIE WAHHHHHH 😭😭😭 she looks sooooo pretty omg tytyty wahhh...;;

CAYCAY CLOSING US OUT ok now i can go to bed thank you cater for your service. he looks SO CUTE!!! i like how u manage shading and highlights in this limited little drawing space 🙏

ok 🧍‍♂️ i have re installed windows on my computer. this should be the last time i have to remake the link for a while l o l

[dxckgrxsonx]

We are Horrible

Fandom - DCU - Batman: Arkham Knight (Video Games) // DCU Comics Pairing - Arkham Knight X RedRoom!Reader // Jason Todd X RedRoom!Reader Warnings -  SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Descriptions of Violence - Implied/Reference Suicide (One Mention) - Blood - Swearing - Crying - Unresolved Trauma - M! Receiving Oral Sex - Face-Fucking - Degradation - Boot Humping - Dom/Sub Undertones - Praise! Kink - Choking - Begging - Very Mild Orgasm Denial - Heavy Angst - No Comfort Word Count - 6.3k Notes -  If you can't tell, I have big fat feelings for the Arkham Knight. I just??? Love him so very much and basically used my Reader Gloves to express how much I want to jump his bones. I was biting many inanimate objects throughout writing this so if you see teeth marks in random things...it wasn't me.

Also - Would any of you be interested if I started doing a tag list?

**

‘You horrify me. But at the same time, I horrify myself. We are horrible.’

**

You hear him before you see him.

All the hair along the back of your neck stands on end and a frigid shiver sweeps over your skin; rocking hard down the interlocking bones of your spine. There’s an awkward hush throughout the group, a tense clack of teeth smashing together when those around you clench their jaw.

His steps are loud–you think he does it on purpose–if he didn’t want you to hear him, you don’t think you would until it’s too late. His posture bleeds authority, this is a man who doesn’t ask permission. He takes what he wants and if you stand in his way, then it’s your funeral.

You’ve heard the stories from those who laid witness to his calculated rage, you don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of that endless wrath.

There’s something uneasy kicking awake in your stomach.

The Arkham Knight is downright terrifying.

It’s not lost on you how afraid everyone is. How the base impulse in the Knight’s presence is to tremble. He makes you feel like prey. Looks at you from behind that mesmerising helmet like he’s already got three ways planned out on how to kill you with his bare hands.

You’ve never met him before. Only joined his team of highly trained militia a few weeks ago, and during that time you’ve trained with a few different people, but never him directly. They have, however, caught you up to speed well enough that you can slip straight into whatever role the Knight assigns.

Some part of you is thankful that you haven’t met him before now, looking at the Knight is almost like staring your murderer in the face. It’s unnatural and the empty space in your chest cavity fills with something that feels like a panic response, feels like fight or flight.

But another part of you—the stupid part of you, the part that has zero respect for authority—wants to go head to head. Wants to push his boundaries, wants to see first hand why those around you are afraid.

In the face of fight or flight you’ve always chosen the former. Preferring to swing your fist at the threat than run from it. Your whole childhood was a panic response, boiled down to fight fight fight, and sometimes, when you look back at it, you understand why you turned into something ugly, something rageful.

Your time in the Red Room helped you control that rage, turn it into something that could be wielded as a weapon. The methods they used were inhuman–you might as well have shot your childhood self through the head–but it worked. They turned you into something powerful, something unstoppable, something utterly evil.

The Red Room burned out everything soft inside you and replaced it.

You hate them for it.

As you watch the Arkham Knight, you see fractured parts of yourself in the way he moves. He hides it well, masks it behind layers and layers of armour and anger and isolation. But you see it in the way he carefully watches everything around him, the controlled way he moves, the way his hands never stray too far from his weapons.

The Knight craves control, needs it.

You know where that need comes from, where it was born, where it rips you open and wedges itself between the tender bones of your ribs. He was once powerless. His entire life suspended on strings in someone else’s hands. You know what that’s like, how it fucks you up from the inside out, twists parts of yourself into something unrecognisable–

How it makes you hate yourself.

You wonder, was he able to cut the strings himself, or did someone else do it for him?

Looking around, you don’t think anyone else notices the barely visible signs of trauma. They look at the Knight and see someone to be respected, followed. They look at him and believe he’ll guide them to victory, to absolute control.

And he probably will.

There’s a cold focus in the way he operates. Something drives him forwards, a goal he’s throwing himself towards with everything he’s got. The Knight is clever, his intellect something to be admired. You’ve been here a few weeks at best and since you’ve arrived, you’ve found yourself more and more impressed.

Leadership isn’t easy in ordinary circumstances, and so the fact the Knight is able to lead his entire army without fault throws your brain into a frantic tailspin.

Without a word, the Knight approaches and you feel that first prickle of panic at the back of your neck. It’s involuntary, your body reacts on a base level - almost like a reflex. It frustrates you how this man is able to pull such a visceral reaction from you when you’ve spent years getting that specific response drilled out of your skull.

You gave up so much to gain so little.

Someone at the side speaks, addressing the Knight directly, “We’ve got the best mercenaries from across the globe ready to follow you into–.”

He cuts the man off with brutal efficiency.

“You two! Raise your weapons.” He barks, voice mechanical, robotic. The Knight stands rigid, controlled, there’s an air of almost smugness surrounding him. He sweeps his gaze across you and the man at your side–calculating. “Kill me and this entire operation is yours to command and profit from.”

Confusion flutters over your face–fast, barely there before you wipe it from your features. Beside you, the guy you’ve been paired with for training–you think his name is Dan, rolls his shoulders, a huge minigun clenched tight in his large fists. He gives you a brief glance, a quick head to toe sweep before settling his full attention on the Knight.

“Is that an order, sir?” You ask, a slight tilt to your head as you consider his words.

“Absolutely.” He confirms.

A smirk tugs at your mouth, that stupid, challenging part of you flaring awake. Adrenaline dumps hard into your bloodstream and you think that there’s always been something dark inside you, something mean and unhinged. Every now and again you wish you could cut it out of yourself, wish you could grab a knife and slice yourself open to take out those parts of yourself you hate.

But the Red Room made you hate every part of yourself. You think that if you start taking parts of yourself away, there won’t be anything left.

The air around your head crackles, tension twisting tight over your throat. The heat baring down from above makes you sweat and the sticky itch of it irritates your skin. The Knight waits patiently opposite, silence echoing through his helmet. Every now and again you feel the heavy weight of his gaze pass over you and it sparks the dry kindles of your patience.

You’ve never liked being watched.

“Well then,” Dan booms at your side, pulling his minigun into a more offensive position. “Let’s get you bleeding.”

Chaos erupts and in a twisted way, you’ve missed fighting against someone who offers a challenge.

Gunfire splits the air in two, it’s loud and jarring and you swing out of the way without missing a beat. Dan heaves his weapon in the direction of the Knight, finger laying heavy on the trigger. Used up bullet casings litter the ground as he pounds through rounds and rounds of ammo without hitting a single thing.

Stupid. Reckless. Undisciplined.

“The man you’re facing cannot be underestimated.” The Knight starts, modulated voice washing over you. The authority and knowledge leaching into the tone makes you listen, leaves you captivated.

He goes for Dan first, and you witness the most incredible display of combat skills you’ve seen outside the Red Room. Leaping onto the minigun itself the Knight uses it as a stepping stone to avoid getting shot through the stomach. Coming up quick you watch with wide eyes as he jumps and lands a brutal kick to Dan’s head.

“I know him inside and out.” He continues, tone unchanged.

Drawing the pistol strapped to your thigh you flick off the safety and fire one shot–just to see what he’s going to do, to find out how he’s going to react. The bullet goes wide, your intention isn’t to hit him, some part of you thinks that he wouldn’t give you that chance. But it gets his attention and the sensation of electricity zips up your spine.

“He is relentless, cunning…and he destroys everything he touches.”

Stepping hard on Dan’s shoulder for momentum he twists into a frontflip, easily clearing Dan’s impressive height and putting him into the perfect position to kick the pistol from your hand. Stutter stepping backwards you fight for separation and manage to dodge the combat boot aimed for your weapon.

“On his worst day, he is your better in every possible way.”

The Knight lands on one knee and when he looks up you feel the blistering heat of his gaze on your face. You level your pistol as Dan collapses to the ground holding his jaw, a horrible groan of pain ripping out of his mouth. Looking down for a split second you glance back to the Knight and raise an eyebrow, mouth twitching into a small grin.

Moving quicker than you can comprehend the Knight darts forwards into your space. Wrapping a gloved hand around your wrist he moves to violently disarm you and probably break your fingers in the process. Using your free hand to grab his armoured shoulder you swing your leg up and hook your thighs around his neck.

Strong fingers briefly scrabble at your knee as the Knight fights for leverage and you twist your hips, using the momentum to throw him off balance. Dipping backwards you swing your weight to one side and drag the Knight down with you as you fall. Releasing your grip at the last second you land easily on your feet as the Knight manoeuvres himself into a controlled roll, sand and dust kicking up around you both.

Slipping your pistol back into its holster you rock into a better fighting stance–lowering your centre of gravity and balancing light on the balls of your feet. Mentally processing the Knight’s skills you search for weak points but come up empty.

You’re no stranger to a difficult opponent–hell, the Red Room was all about putting you against someone older and larger and expecting you to fight your way to victory no matter the cost.

You’d come away from those fights halfway to broken–but that’s what they wanted. The Red Room shattered you into sharp jagged pieces, only to rebuild you in their twisted image. To turn you into some tool, some weapon in someone else's hands.

You’re no better than a loaded gun; just point and shoot.

No wonder you hate yourself sometimes.

No wonder you ran.

Circling one another the Knight stares you down, his presence turns suffocating, he looms over you, all perfectly poised and powerful, “You really think you stand a chance against him?” He mocks, a wicked robotic drawl curling through the air. “A few fancy tricks won’t be enough to take him down.”

You feel like a child again. Up against the endless evil of HYDRA. Put through tests and tests and tests. Each one more taxing than the last until you broke, cried, begged for them to stop. But they never did, just continued to turn you into something unrecognisable, something evil.

“Do you really believe that’s the best I have to offer?” You grin, shark like, all mean edges and sharp teeth.

You strike out first and you realise your mistake seconds too late.

He wanted you to move first, rile you up only to take advantage of your lack of control.

The Knight sweeps your legs, taking you out. You hit the ground with a thud, breath punched straight from your lungs. It’s stupid how such a simple move takes you down but you can’t deny the fact that you didn’t see it coming. You know now, why those around you look to the Knight for guidance, leadership.

He’s strong and clever and always in control.

Rolling to the side you dodge the kick aimed at your ribs by mere millimetres. Springing back to your feet you intercept the Knight’s fist as it comes towards you. Snatching his forearm you shove his attack wide and plant your foot against his chest. Kicking with all the force you can muster you manage to push him back a few steps.

Whilst he’s on the backpedal you regain composure and go on the offensive. Your brain screams that you’re being too aggressive, that he’s too large to go up against head to head, that you’re better staying loose limbed and quick.

But you’re stupid.

The Arkham Knight has you flat on your back in seconds, and a different heat flares awake low in your gut.

Oh fuck.

Forcing his knee against your sternum as he kneels over you he leans in close, mesmerising helmet brushing your cheek. Your fingers sink into the dirt and sand at your sides, overwhelming frustration eating away at the inside of your chest.

“Is that all you’ve got?” He drawls, and you hear the smirk in his voice. “I must admit, I was expecting better.”

Snapping your head up you crash your skull into his helmet. Pain bursts across your nose at the impact and the Knight reels back, knee slipping from its place on your chest. Twisting around underneath him you shove him hard in the shoulder and he gives–not as much as you’d like, but enough to flip you both.

Sitting on his stomach your thighs frame his hips, weapons digging into your skin. The irritating press of his tactical belt makes you frown above him. From feel alone you mentally count at least three grenades and a few other devices; you mark him down as resourceful in your head.

Touching the pads of your fingers against your nose they come away wet with blood and you roll your eyes. As time’s gone on, you’ve found that bleeding is more of an inconvenience than a source of fear. Although you find a dry sort of humour at the fact that everything that causes you pain is Red in one way or another.

“I really hope that he’s having a bad day when I go up against him.” You breathe, and it’s a half truth. “If we just team up and push him down a flight of stairs would that work?”

A strangled cough rips up the Knight’s throat and you feel the laugh caught in his chest seconds before his hand reaches up and curls around your neck, cutting off your air completely. His thumb presses against the thick vein underneath your jaw, you know he feels the desperate flutter of your pulse.

Wrestling you off him he shoves your back to the floor and loosens his fist so you can suck in a breath before tightening it again. Your head goes fuzzy, you feel weightless, maybe even drunk. The sensation fires mixed signals in your brain, half crippling fear, half desperate arousal.

You’re wet.

“Your best is not nearly good enough.” He growls, and you fight the blinding urge to grab your knife and shove it through his ribs. “Reckless, undisciplined, stupid.”

The way his voice dips into a cruel tease sends your brain into the stratosphere, your eyelids flutter, you ache. You never guessed that being strangled and called stupid was your thing, but here you are. Gasping for breath under his hand and getting fucking wet about it.

Finally releasing his hold he straightens up and addresses those who watch on, “Time is growing short. Deathstroke will be back in a couple days for the rest of your training.” Shoving the tip of his boot into your ribs the Knight looks down at you, panting and covered in dirt and sand, bleeding from the cut on the bridge of your nose, “Get up.”

Rolling to your feet you regard him with guarded caution, there’s still a wicked fire burning in your eyes and you’re not entirely convinced you won’t take a swing at him just because you can, because you’ve always been a poor loser.

Disregarding you, the Knight swings his leg over his bike, the vehicle sleek and black and beautiful.

Turning his attention back to the group his modulated voice reverberates, “The reward is you win Gotham. But winning Gotham means defeating its dark champion and exposing his secrets, and the secret is…he’s only human.” Revving the engine he swings the bike around. “I’ve been preparing for this my whole life and I expect you all to rise to the occasion. Because my secret is…I’m only merciful once.”

Taking off in a cloud of dust you follow him with your eyes, briefly, for a split second, you wonder if you have the time to pull your pistol and shoot the back of his helmet. Dismissing the thought as quick as it comes, you turn to Dan who stands close by, minigun back in his hands.

“Well that was fun.” You mock.

Huffing out a short laugh you notice how his hands shake, “Think I need a new pair of pants.”

**

Sweat dots your hairline, it beads up along your temples and irritates your skin. Wiping it away with the back of your hand you bounce easily on the balls of your feet and take another swing at the punching bag–fist connecting with a resounding thud.

Pain spiders through your hand, the thin bones trembling faintly beneath your skin. It rocks you up to the elbow and you growl at the discomfort. Twisting your hips you slam your leg into the bag and spin on the ball of your foot. Coming back around you throw a blinding three hit combo into the plastic and exhale.

The bag swings back in retaliation and you swiftly duck out of its path before sliding in behind it and kicking it as it passes. Your hands shake, white tape beginning to turn red where your skin has split under the strain.

Midnight rolls around on the clock and you sigh under your breath.

Your fight with the Knight yanked something loose in your chest. It knocks against the cage of your ribs, calling for your attention over the relentless roar of your own pulse. You know you need to pull it out or wedge it back into place–it can’t bounce around inside you forever–but an emotion you can’t put your finger on swirls through your skull.

“Your best is not nearly good enough.”

Reeling back your fist you slam it into the centre of the bag. Fury bubbles awake in your gut and you snarl. Rolling under the bag as it swings back you leap to your feet and raise your leg in a high arc, hitting the bag in the side with enough force to make the chain holding it rattle. Weaving out of its path you bounce on your feet and raise your fists, ignoring the tape that peels away from your ruined knuckles.

Without the rigorous standards of the Red Room you feel yourself slipping.  There’s a horrifying yank at the base of your spine when a sense of failure washes over you. During combat training they would put you against each other–test your skills, test your loyalty. Failure to kill your opponent wasn’t just failure–it was death.

The Red Room never tolerated anything less than perfection, and even though admitting it makes you want to rip out your tongue: you thrived on their standards, would snap yourself into ugly little pieces to meet their impossible standards.

Even though your goal wasn’t to kill the Knight, you still feel that evil prickle of thorns around your neck–still get that crippling sense of dread when you realise you failed. Subconsciously–almost an attempt to make yourself feel better–you think you held back when fighting the Knight. After all, in your head he registers as an authority figure–someone you should look to for guidance, for knowledge. Someone who is untouchable–someone who controls you.

It scares you half to death the way you search for an authority figure in him–how you do it reflectively, the way you do it for guidance, for a sense of purpose.

You don’t even know how to exist for yourself.

In the back of your head you hear yourself weeping, part of you so utterly broken that you wonder if you’ll ever be whole again–if you’ll ever belong to yourself and not someone else. Always stuck between begging for someone to take control of you and hating it with every fibre of your being.

The fury gives way for something else, something worse.

Insecurity.

Tears bubble up along your lower lashes and for one horrible second you want to shoot yourself through the head.

Quiet footsteps echo behind you, there’s something familiar about the gait and weight of each step. You turn to face the doorway, furiously wiping at your eyes expecting to see Dan standing there–his muscular figure taking up the breadth of the door. But what you find is someone else.

The Arkham Knight.

His posture radiates authority–your hands start to shake, there’s something desperate and tired inside you. You want to give it all up. The Red Room was all about making sure you had no control–handlers, trainers, handcuffs around your wrist as you sleep. You never realised that if you left–if you ran–what they taught you would still end up following.

Dropping to your knees you bow your head and cry.

Hiding your face behind your bleeding hands you feel the weight of knowing you don’t belong to yourself press into your shoulders. The pain is alive inside you, it almost feels like you’re dying. You’ve been through torture sessions, you know what it’s like to hurt–but this hurts in a different way, right down to your bones; you don’t know if it’ll ever stop.

Movement registers in the back of your head, even when you’re distracted you’re still able to track people’s steps–if you weren't so consumed with shame, you’d probably be impressed with your subconscious.

The Knight stands directly in front of you, his combat boots touching the tips of your knees. A gloved hand reaches under your chin, tilting your head up and forcing your hands to come away from your face.

Staring up at his helmet through blurry eyes you crack your ribs wide open–

“Please–I can’t–I need yo–” Tears overflow and roll down your cheeks, closing your eyes you swallow, you don’t want to look at him. Squeezing your jaw the Knight gives your head a gentle shake, a demand to open your eyes and look at him. “I need you to–” Your voice cracks, “–please, take control of me.”

Silence echoes for a strangled beat and part of you wants to get up and run.

“Oh pretty girl,” The Knight coos, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Look at you, so desperate, so…broken.”

Your lower lip trembles, you want to duck your head and hide but he doesn’t let you. The Knight keeps his fingers locked around your jaw, the firm grip straddles the fine line between comfort and pain–you wonder if he’ll leave a mark.

“M’sorry. I’m so sorry–please–I can’t…” Your throat closes up, you can barely speak. Wringing your hands in your lap you press the pads of your fingers into your knuckles, use the pain to ground yourself. “You need to tell me what to do–I can’t–I don’t know how…”

“Shh. I’ve got you.” He says, and his thumb presses against your lower lip, the wet salt of your tears caught on the glove smearing over your mouth. Your lips part slightly and he takes the opportunity to slide his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. “Such a good girl.”

Your whole world shudders–crumbles straight to ash, and the Arkham Knight stands at its centre.

Pressing down on your tongue he slips his fingers deeper and you drool, spit leaking from the edges of your mouth. Touching the back of your throat you gag and fight the urge to pull back. Curling his free hand around the back of your head he holds you in place and continues to fuck your mouth with his fingers.

Shifting around on your knees to try and dissipate the ache building in your gut, your fingers drag up your thighs–coming to a slow stop over your covered cunt. Without looking away you press two fingers over your clit and sigh, eyelids fluttering.

A rough boot kicks at your knees, shoving them apart so he can wedge the tip of his combat boot against your pussy–effectively blocking your greedy fingers from where you grow wet and throbbing.

“Behave.” The Knight warns, fingers still sliding in and out of your mouth. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Swiping your tongue between his fingers you suckle gently and wrap your hand around his ankle, keeping him in place. Slipping the digits deeper he reaches the back of your throat again and you forcefully relax to let him explore, tears overflowing and dripping down your cheeks.

“There you go. So good for me.” He praises, releasing the back of your head so he can fiddle with his tactical belt. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

The praise sets you on fire, a dry spark of gasoline on your skin. Back in the Red Room, the only time you got praise was when you completed a task. Whether that was killing an opponent, extracting information, or resisting hours and hours of torture.

You remember the way you’d keen under their words, push yourself past the breaking point just to hear them say you’ve done a good job, that they’re proud of you, that you’re going to have the world at your feet.

It sat wrong in your stomach for years, something young and hurting banging against the inside of your chest when you thanked them for turning you into a monster.

Anything they wanted, you would have done for them.

But this praise is different, it lights you up inside like a goddamn solar flare. There’s no sense of guilt or betrayal, there’s just his words, his gloved fingers sliding rough and wet over your tongue and down your throat. You want to be good–you want to be good for him.

“Poor stupid girl.” He says, rocking his foot up against the sensitive space between your thighs. Grinding down on his boot involuntary you choke on a whimper. “I should have known that under all those fancy combat skills there was a pathetic little slut.”

Biting down on the fingers in your mouth you scowl.

“Don’t look at me like that.” The Knight chuckles, removing his hand from your mouth. “You think I didn’t notice how you reacted earlier? How you got all wet and sticky just from me putting my hand around your throat.”

Heat scathes up your neck, you hate how his words make your body react. Wetness seeps into your underwear, sticking the damp fabric to the swollen lips of your pussy. There’s a quick twitch of your clit as the Knight presses his boot against you harder–rocking it back and forth, dragging the length of your cunt over it.

Digging your nails into his ankle you whine, bottom lip trembling.

Unbuckling his tactical pants he shoves them and his boxers down far enough to free his length–the elastic waistband sitting underneath his full balls. His cock springs up, deliciously long and thick, flushed a deep red at the tip. The thick vein running up the underside of his shaft throbs and a clear bead of precum smears over the head.

Wrapping his gloved hand around himself he gives a long, slow pump and groans, the sound making your wet little hole flutter. Gathering the bead of precum on his thumb he swipes it over your mouth, wiping the taste of himself across your lips. Darting your tongue over his thumb your eyes roll into the back of your skull, the taste of him almost intoxicating.

Tipping your head forwards you mouth at the leaking tip, swirling your tongue over the pretty head of his cock. A strangled noise echoes through his helmet and you grind your cunt down on his boot. Grabbing a fistful of your hair the Knight guides you over his length, making sure you slick up his cock before he presses the fat head into the wet heat of your mouth.

“Uh–fuck…” He moans, hips flexing as he shoves himself deeper. The hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he feeds you inch after inch. “You were made for taking my cock sweetheart, you look so–ugh–pretty.”

The thick girth of him makes your jaw ache, you didn’t think your mouth could stretch wide enough to fit all of him in. Spit leaks from the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin and landing on his boot between your thighs. Pulling back before he hits the back of your throat he pushes forwards again, forcing his entire length into your mouth.

Brushing the back of your throat you gag, throat muscles squeezing around the tip of his cock. Your fingers clamp around his ankle, eyes watering as he thrusts deeper, your nose bumping against his navel.

“Gonna fuck your face,” He grunts, “Want you to feel me for days.”

Rocking back and forth you drag your leaking pussy over his boot, catching the dips and grooves on your throbbing clit. The pressure makes you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Heat sparks up and down your spine, electricity zapping along your nerves. The position doesn’t give you as much contact as you want, the layers and layers of clothing preventing you from feeling everything–but it’s enough to get you close.

Pulling his hips back you suck in a desperate breath, lungs burning something fierce. Without pausing, he shoves his cock back into your mouth and down your throat–the impressive girth and weight of him settling heavy on your tongue. Easing into a messy rhythm you revel in the sounds you pull from the Knight’s mouth, the little moans and groans that make your pussy gush.

He sounds so pretty, you wonder for a brief moment what his voice sounds like without the modulator. Almost selfishly, you wish you knew his name.

Shifting his free hand he curls it around your neck, swearing lowly when he feels the bulge in your throat as he bottoms out. Forcing you to take his full length he holds you down, hand fisting your hair and preventing you from pulling back. Your nose presses against his lower stomach, spit and drool coating the warm skin there.

“You’re going to swallow it all sweetheart, you hear me?” He grunts, pulling back when you slap at his ankle. Surging forwards his muscular thighs flex, “M’gonna come in your mouth and you’re gonna swallow it all. You’re gonna swallow everything I give you or you’re not gonna come.”

The lack of air makes you feel drunk, eyes glossy and almost unseeing. Catching the swollen mess of your clit on his boot you shake and grind down harder, desperate to relieve the overpowering ache. Pleasure bleeds through your veins, sparking from the tips of your fingers to your toes. You have no control over the situation–you’ve never felt more free.

The Knight’s rhythm falters, breathing erratic. His cock twitches hard in your mouth and you trace the thick vein running along the underside with your tongue and it twitches again, harder this time. A mean snarl pours through the modulator and your whole pussy clenches, wetness oozing from your flushed little hole.

“Fuck–fuck–fuck.” He growls, hands shaking, strong hips sloppily surging forwards. Releasing his hold around your neck he strokes his fingers down your cheek, pressing down and feeling his length in your mouth. “Y’look so pretty–so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He coos, breathless, “Shit–uh–fuck. Gonna–m’gonna come.”

Throwing his head back he moans, long and low and so, so pretty.

Shoving his cock down your throat his entire body seizes. Holding you down by the back of your head you fight the urge to gag, to struggle and hit out. His thick length twitches and he spills down your throat, ropes and ropes of his come unloading into your stomach. The taste of him floods your mouth and you teeter on the edge of oblivion.

“That’s it, you greedy girl, swallow it all.”

Gasping violently as he pulls back a thin string of spit connects you and the fat head of his cock. Looking up, your eyes water and there’s something pleading in your gaze. Hovering over his boot you feel your cunt pulse and beg for stimulation–you’re so close to coming that one pass of his boot would tip you over the edge.

“Please.” You beg quietly, face burning with humiliation. “Please–I’m so close–please can–can I come?”

Tapping your covered pussy with his foot you whimper–he grinds against your swollen clit harder and your thighs tremble.

“Is that really all it’s going to take?” He says, tone mocking. “Are you really going to come from this?” Pushing his boot up again he stops you from squirming away and you wail, tears streaming down your face. “God–you’re fucking disgusting.”

Your whole world goes supernova, an explosion of colour igniting behind your eyes. You don’t know how he does it–how he knows just what to say to drag you kicking and screaming to the very edge.

“Shit– oh fuck..shit. I’m gonna–hng–please! I’ve been good…I–I swallowed everything–please–oh god! Please!”

Tucking his softening length back into his tactical pants he kneels down, removing all stimulation and forcing a wrecked sob from between your lips. Roughly shoving your knees further apart with his hands he rubs two fingers over your cunt–a quick back and forth pass that has you shaking, hands coming up to dig into his armoured shoulders.

Staring into his helmet you see your own reflection staring back. Watery eyes, sweat dotting along your hairline, spit and drool covering your mouth and chin. Every part of you looks almost pathetic and you know that if anyone from the Red Room saw you now, they’d put you down like a dog.

You want to look away but something keeps you there, you wonder if you’re looking into the Knight’s eyes. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you.

“Oh you poor stupid girl,” He teases, a cruel undertone bleeding into his words–it sets you on fire, makes you want to grab one of the guns from his hips and slam a bullet through his chest. “What would people think if they saw you like this? Crying and begging like a whore to come just from this–from a little pressure on your pathetic cunt.”

Stroking his fingers over your pussy you gasp, open mouthed and utterly desperate. Circling his digits around your wet, throbbing clit you grind down–hard. Compensating for your movements the Knight allows you to use his hand to get more pressure on your cunt, closing your eyes for a split second you moan.

“Open your eyes.” He orders, that blaring tone of authority wrapping around your neck. “Don’t you dare look away when you come.”

You snap your eyes open.

“Oh–oh…okay–shit. Can–can I come now…please, I’m so close.”

Your clit twitches as you feel your gazes lock, a glittering pulse forcing more wetness out of your clenching hole. You feel half deaf with pleasure, the only thing registering the Knight and his voice and his quick, nimble fingers rubbing against you.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” He finally says, curling his free hand around your neck and squeezing. “Wanna see you make a mess.”

You’re gone.

He makes you work for your breath, air dragging thick through your throat as you convulse and cry out. Your pussy gushes, arousal seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear and dampening your tactical pants. Glittering heat explodes in your veins and the quick, desperate twitching of your clit matches the clenching of your empty cunt.

The pleasure feels alive inside you, sending you straight into the damn stratosphere. You feel high, drunk, weightless. There’s nothing in your head but blinding warmth and his voice, praising you for doing so well, for being so good.

Pressing your forehead to his helmet you barely manage to keep your eyes open.

You don’t think you’ve come that hard before, you’re not sure if your legs will work if you stand. There’s an ache in your fingers as you cling to the fabric of the Knight’s uniform, aftershocks ripping up the fragile bones of your spine.

Releasing your throat the Knight pulls back, forcing your grip on his shoulders to loosen. Grabbing your chin he presses hard enough to make you hiss.

“You’re mine, do you understand?”

A stupid smile tugs at the edges of your mouth, you know he can feel it through his gloves. Of all the people you’ve belonged to–horrible parents, The Red Room, HYDRA, evil handlers who just wanted you to hurt. You think that belonging to him is the next best thing beside belonging to yourself.

It’s twisted, there's something in the back of your head shouting a warning, but out of your whole life, this is the most free you’ve felt. You recognise that you’re broken, a little fucked up on the inside–you can’t function properly without having someone else control you, guide you. A side effect of going through the Red Room and escaping before they can finish their training.

But you think that maybe the Knight is a little broken too. You still see fractured parts of yourself in him. If you look at him for too long, you start to see the little cracks in his armour. He’s been hurt too.

You see him and you understand: broken sees broken.

You gave up so much to gain…something.

“You’re mine, do you understand?”

Yes

**

Notes - One thing I'd like to mention - I did play around with multiple different endings for this. Some sweeter, some not so sweet. In the end I tried to stick to my characterisation of the Reader (she's a little screwed up from the Red Room) and I kind of wanted to leave it open to interpretation. I do have an outline planned for a second part to this as I want to give the reader a chance to heal, and I also have a few very self indulgent scenes planned *wink wonk*. Plus you know, AK!Jason has me in a chokehold rn.

Anyway!! Hope you enjoyed. It was nice to flex my smut writing fingers after so long, I'll 100% be writing more in the future.

Love Ya!! xx

**

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Heyy.

I'm a bit nervous but yeah, I wanted to do an emergency request? If u r doing these, if not feel free to ignore me. So basically I always had trouble with my parents and panic attacks like since I wad 14 or smth. And today I had a pretty bad panic attack in public cause someone talked about my dad and I started remembering a lot of beating, so basically I wanted to ask for some comfort in that situation from Shanks, Marco, Mihawk and Rayleigh!

I hope that's fine!

Stay hydrated <3

I've actually never had anyone ask for an emergency request before. But I'm very familiar with issues with fathers that cause anxiety. So yes, I will happily fill this request for you.

Sorry I posted it early on accident, it was eleven at night when I started writing this, and two am when I posted it. I also decided that I'm going to do only three for this post. However, to make up for my fuck-up, I'll do a part three with Rayleigh and two characters of your choosing.

How the OP men would comfort you during a panic attack

Marco the Pineapple Phoenix

Marco was working in his office, when Ace kicked open the door to the infirmary, making everyone in the room jump. The zoan user was about to chide the young man when he saw the panic-stricken expression written across his face.

The blond removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose and groaned, "what is it this time?"

Ace pointed out the door and said, "something is wrong with (y/n), they collapsed on deck."

The older man bolted towards the door and asked, "what happened?"

Ace stammered, "I dunno, we were talking about the crew, and then I started talking about my family, and they just dropped to their knees and started crying. They aren't responding to any of us when we try to talk to them."

"I see, well for future reference (y/n) had a rough home life growing up. Their father was to put it delicately, a monster who never should have become a husband let alone a father." Marco sighed, and climbed the stairs leading to the ship's deck. He squinted as the sun shone in his eyes, when they adjusted to the light Marco saw you collapsed on deck.

You had your hands covering your mouth, as you hyperventilated. Most of the crew were gathered around you, looking worried and scared. Even Whitebeard stood beside you, shifting anxiously from one foot to another, clearly not used to feeling unable to help his children. Teach also seemed uncharacteristically unnerved.

Marco knelt beside you and put his hand on your back, trying to ignore the sting in his heart when you flinched. Marco, using the softest voice he could manage, asked, "what would you like to talk about it, for us to give you space, or a distraction?"

"Distraction."

Marco nodded his head and sighed, "I have files that need sorting, come one you can help me." Marco pulled you to your feet and led you in to the bowls of the ship. "...oh and (y/n)? Please remember those people aren't your family anymore, we are, and Pops is your dad now."

Shanks

Shanks lifted his arms above his head and stretched his muscles. He had just woken up from the most wonderful nap, and he wanted to talk to you about taking you out on a date when the ship arrives at port that evening. Scratching his stomach as he looked around the deck for you, only to see his ugly ass crew mates. Shanks waved Benn down, and yelled, "where's (y/n)?"

He waved in appreciation when Benn pointed in the direction of the stern, where He saw your figure obscured be the sail's ropes, outlined against the pink and blue horizon, leaning against the side railing and looking out over the water. And being the cheeky boy he is, Shanks snuck up behind you and rather suddenly wrapped his arm around you. The moment his body came into contact with yours, he knew he messed up. You were shaking, and it was a balmy evening, so you couldn't have been cold. Shanks turned you around, and upon seeing your tear stained face he cooed, "oh sweetheart, what's wrong?"

When you let out a soft sob, he pulled you against his chest and gently rocked you side to side. After calmed down, you explained that you overheard a conversation between two of your crewmates that triggered you to remember an unpleasant memory of your father at a restaurant that ended in a panic attack. Shanks peppered your face with kisses, and said, "what can I do to make you feel better?"

"Don't let go," you mumbled, as you pressed your face into his chest.

"Anything for you, boss," Shanks announced, and he let his arm wrapped around your shoulders drop to your thighs, and he hoisted you up and carried you over to and coddled you for the rest of the day. Shanks also kept his promise, he didn't let go unless you asked him to.

Mihawk

It was a lovely night at the castle, Mihawk had just finished setting the table for dinner. He was quite proud of himself, he had made carbonara from scratch, noodles and every thing, and it had turned out wonderfully. Mihawk was eager to see you and Perona eat it, he was maybe a little eager for some praise as well. Mihawk poured the wine, knowing Zorro would smell it and would be here shortly.

When the Green haired man strolled into the dinner room, he grumbled, "smells good, is that a pino noir?"

Mihakw huffed, "yes," downed the glass and asked, "Will you please go tell your sister Perona and (y/n) that dinner is ready."

Twenty minutes later everyone in the house were quietly assembled and eating at the dinner table, as Mihawk requested they do every night. Mihawk peaked up at his family, to see the reactions of the people around him. Zorro was holding his plate to his mouth, and was nosily and eagerly shoving as many noodles that would fit into his mouth. Perona was happily munching on her dinner, doing a small cute dance in her chair. Mihawk's eyes drifted over to the other end of the table where you sat. You had not even picked up your fork, you simply stared, wide-eyed, at the plate of noodles before you. He watched you in perplexion, before movement in his wineglass stole his attention. The wine in the crystal glass was rippling in a rapid, but rhythmic pattern. Mihawk pressed his palm against the wood, only to feel nothing, despite the wine continuing to ripple. The only one who was touching the table was you. Mihawk called out your name, and when you didn't even register his existence he moved to stand beside you. He called out to you again, and when he, yet again, got no response, Mihawk placed his hand on your shoulder to feel your rapid pulse hammering against his palm.

Your head whipped in his direction so quickly that it looked painful. He asked, "is everything alright, dear?"

" Carbonara was his favorite." You mumbled.

Zorro and Perona echoed, "his? His, who?"

Mihawk took your plate and slide its contents onto Zorro's plate as he said, "I'll go make you something else. If you want to go to our room, I'll bring it up there once I'm done."

You grab his sleeve to stop him, "I'm not hungry anymore, I'd actually like to go to bed, if that's alright."

"May I come with?" He asked, pulling your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles.

Zorro and Perona watched you nod, and then the two of you disappear behind the door at the far end of the hall.

"What the hell was that?" Zoro groused.

Peron threw her stuff animal at Zoro, which he narrowly dodged, as she yelled. " You are so dense sometimes!"

[skiller0dani]

Old Prison Blues | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | dom!spencer x bau!reader requests info w.c | 7.2k summary | when your husband Spencer gets released from Prison, he's much different then you remember.

I have it so bad for this man, enjoy! Also guys this piece made butterflies squirm in my belly lmao this one is so HOT it made me blush. Guys, it made me B L U S H. I need to go dunk myself in holy water to atone for this SIN. (just kidding lmao I'm agnostic).

you can see his bulge in this gif and I can't stop admiring looking at it.

When you were in college you'd been an undergraduate in Criminal Justice, so you were familiar with the effects Prison has on the psyche. In other words, you knew Spencer would come back different. No person could pass through Prison unscathed and frankly you'd be more concerned if he came back and nothing had changed at all. At home, he seemed to be relatively okay, and those 6 mandatory weeks of break had allowed him the rest he deserved. Nothing exciting had happened during those weeks, the only thing you did was curl up on the couch next to him and watch movies. You'd made up for all those weeks in Prison during the evenings when you would cling to him and cry out his name in ecstasy.

Spencer really did seem to be fine, until you returned to work. That's when you started to see all the ways Prison had hardened him.

At first, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. If you were someone who knew Spencer well then you knew that he wasn't a man who was confident in his looks. When you and Spencer first got married he was insecure, and would be discouraged when you hung out with other guys. You wouldn't say he was jealous because jealously in itself requires a certain amount of anger. But when Spencer saw you around other men he wasn't angry, he was sad. Absolutely convinced you were going to leave him any second, despite you telling him you married him because you love him. Deep down, he always thought somebody would steal you from him even though you consistently reminded him how much you love him. That's just the kind of guy Spencer is.

Or, was.

The darkness that brews in Prison, the violent hatred, the anger seems to have followed Spencer to freedom. It has made a home in his chest, and while you're not worried about Spencer flying off the deep end and shooting an innocent, the anger reveals itself in much more subtle ways. It's in the way he clenches his jaw when he can't figure something out, or the blanching of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel with a crushing force, it's the agitation in his eyes when he watches Alvez's knuckles brush against your lower back for the 3rd time since you two had arrived at the office this morning. The anger has adapted to civilian life like Spencer has, it's learned. It's subtle. Unfortunately you know Spencer almost better then he knows himself, you can tell when something is bothering him.

You slide your hands over his shoulders, and much to your surprise you feel him tense.

"You okay?" You know it's a stupid question, but you have to ask.

"Yeah, fine." Spencer's tone is clipped, shoulders rigid, back straight. Something is definitely bothering him. You squeeze his shoulders and begin to work at the tightened muscles, slowly easing them to relax. The tension flows out of him as he relaxes back in his desk chair, the frustration ebbing away slightly when his eyes catch your wedding ring. The object that binds you to him.

"Don't shut me out." You whisper, a soft plea in your voice. Spencer's heart wretches when he hears the fear in your tone, and one of his hands comes up to catch yours. He presses a chaste kiss to one of your knuckles before swiveling around to face you. You always find a way to soothe the violent, raging beast inside of him. Spencer's hands find your hips as he turns his gaze up to look at you.

"You're right I'm sorry. Just tense today." He says softly, and while there is a little lie to his words, his statement remains mostly the truth. He just leaves out the part where he pictures enacting varying forms of violence on Luke Alvez. The man who keeps unnecessarily touching his wife. You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, your head snapping up when Garcia calls from the conference room.

"Got a case folks, and it's an ugly one." Her nose scrunches up into a frown before she turns into the room. You pull away from Spencer, yanking him to his feet by his hand. Luke sends you a playful wink as he trots up the stairs, and while you don't necessarily react to it, it still puts Spencer on edge. Deep down Spencer always knew you were way out of his league, but that never became clearer then when you came to visit him in Prison.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

You were trembling as you lowered yourself into the chair. Dried tears were on your cheeks, and you haven't even seen Spencer yet. The last time you saw him was a few weeks prior after he first got back from Mexico. Seeing his wrists bound in those metal handcuffs had broken your heart in a way you never anticipated. You wrung your hands together, luckily when Penelope had made the visitation Chart she scheduled you as the first person to come see him. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but what was worse was the plastic guard separating you from Spencer. The clock ticked loudly, it was clearly mocking you. Reminding you of the seconds you were losing with Spencer, reminding you of all the seconds he was spending in Prison.

When you hear the buzzer scream loudly, you nearly come out of your seat you're so excited to see him. You and Spencer got married back in 2005, and you've never been separated from him for longer then a week. It's been over a month now, and each day he's not with you leaves a bigger hole in your chest. You watch him follow the other prisoners out, and the handcuffs around his wrists breaks your heart. His eyes light up the second he sees you, he nearly shoves the other guy over to get to you faster. There are tears in your eyes as Spencer's wrists are released from the cuffs from the guard standing nearby.

"Hey baby." Spencer says softly as he takes his seat across from you. All you want is to reach across the stupid barrier and touch him, hold his hand, anything. But you know the guards will punish him if he does, but being this close to him without being able to hold him is absolutely killing you. You try to blink the tears out of your eyes so that Spencer won't see, but it's all too much. Seeing him in a jumpsuit, with cuff bruises around his wrists, having to sleep in the same building as murderers. The first tear falls and you immediately look away from him.

"Please don't cry." Spencer begs softly. "I'm okay, really."

You wipe your tears before you look back up at him, digging around in your bag for a gift from Henry. You smile when you see the happiness cross onto his face as you pull the piece of paper out.

"Henry drew this for you, it's from when you guys went to the park." You hold it up for him to see and you try to fight another onslaught of tears when you see his eyes misting.

"You know, when I get out of here we should have one." Spencer says it so casually, you almost miss it. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you carefully lower the drawing.

"You want to try for a baby?" You can't hide the smile, and you see Spencer's eyes shine for the first time since he's been in here.

"Yeah, I want to have a baby with you." You and Spencer had a brief conversation about kids a few years ago, and you knew Spencer wasn't ready for it back then. His Father ran out on him and Diana when Spencer was just a kid, it made Spencer insecure about the type of Father he would end up being. In Spencer's mind, a fatherless man would never make a good Father. But it seems he's changed his mind. You had no issues agreeing to wait before you had kids until he was ready, you always knew Spencer would be a fantastic Father.

Suddenly from Spencer's right you hear a low wolf whistle. The tenderness that was on Spencer's face is instantly wiped away. His expression tenses, his jaw clenching as he turns his gaze to a large burly looking man covered in tattoos. The man sitting across from him, the one who was visiting, looked similar. Both of the biker looking men were eyeing me hungrily, it made my skin crawl.

"Something I can help you with?" Spencer asks, his voice tense. The tension in the room grows tenfold, and you fight the instinct to try and scoot closer to Spencer. The Biker looks Spencer in the eyes, a taunting smile on his face.

"That your sister?"

"Wife." Spencer snaps instantly.

"Your wife?" The Biker says incrediously, Spencer raises a brow, daring him to continue. "There's no way a woman with an ass that tight would marry a man as scrawny as you."

You expected to see insecurity flash in Spencer's eyes, instead all you saw was rage. Unbridled, violent rage.

"Choose your next words carefully." Spencer's voice was low, and as sharp as the edge of a blade. You almost didn't recognize him. The Biker leaned forward, fueled only by the knowledge that he was getting under Spencer's skin.

"She as tight as she looks? If I wasn't locked up, I'd fuck her so good she wouldn't even remember what your little pecker feels like."

Spencer's jaw clenches, and his fists curl tightly. The Biker is about 2 words away from a broken nose.

"Baby just let it go." You plead, and normally you don't really use pet names in public but right now you needed to show him that you're his.

"I'll tell you what Klein, I'll fuck her for you and tell you how it felt." The other man says, the man visiting. Upon hearing the words come out of his mouth, Spencer is shoving up from the chair but almost instantly a guard is tightly gripping Spencer's shirt and shoving him back into the chair. Spencer is fuming, and there's nothing you can do to calm him down.

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, your friend here will be dead before you can have another visit." Spencer hisses, and the two large men chuckle.

Spencer instantly took you off the visitors list, and while that felt like a blow to your heart you understood why. You didn't want to stress him out by visiting him.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

So, yeah, Spencer knew you were out of his league and when Luke pulled your chair out for you at the table before he had the chance to, it made his blood boil. Why is Luke trying to take care of you? Doesn't he know that Spencer has been released from Prison? You don't need anybody else to take care of you, your husband is more than capable of doing it himself. When Spencer sat down in the chair next to you, he rested one hand on your thigh. You're only slightly surprised, normally Spencer isn't this 'handsy' in public, but in recent weeks he's been more assertive around other men.

"The body of 23 year old Cassandra Richardson was found 2 weeks ago in Lincoln, Nebraska. Her body was mutilated and showed signs of sexual assault. Yesterday another body, 20 year old Francesca Williams was found around the same warehouse district with similar wounds to the first victim." Penelope rushes the words out, almost as though saying them pains her. Various images show on the screen of the two victims, both bloodied and battered.

"Other than similar injuries, what makes the local police think it's the same unsub?" Luke asks, his eyes flickering towards you for the briefest second. While Spencer was locked away, Luke became a shoulder to cry on. Normally when you were upset and Spencer wasn't around, you'd talk to Derek. But since he's been gone you've felt more isolated then you normally do. Luke had found you crying one morning before you had taken off, and ever since he's had an "older brother" protection over you.

"A tattoo on both of the victims thighs, the words 'temerata virginem' which is Latin for 'desecrated virgin'." With the click of a button on her remote, Penelope pulls up a photo of the tattoos. The lines are shaky, although they stay mostly straight.

"It almost looks professional, except the lines aren't perfectly straight. A professional would make the line work perfect." JJ says, examining the photo closer in the folder each of you received. You turn your gaze to Spencer when you feel his hand leave your thigh to examine the photo closer. You could practically see the gears turning in that beautiful mind of his.

"It's possible an outside source is causing a tremble in the unsubs hands, if he is a professional tattoo artist." Spencer mumbles, almost to himself. Sometimes when he's in deep concentration, he nearly forgets other people are in the room with him.

"Could be drugs-" Luke starts but is sharply cut off.

"Actually it's more likely to be alcohol, withdraw from other drugs would be too severe to operate the tattoo machine." Spencer snaps, causing a few heads to turn and look at him. Maybe under other circumstances someone would say something to him, but since Spencer got released from Prison only a few weeks ago, nobody says anything. Luke's eyebrows furrow together as he shoots Spencer a confused look, one Spencer chooses to ignore as his hand returns to your thigh. Spencer knows he's acting like a jerk but he can't help it, Luke needs to know who you belong to. Spencer had everything taken from him in Prison, he won't let anyone take you from him too.

"We've been personally asked by the local police to assist, so wheels up in 30." Emily concludes, shooting one more look at Spencer before everybody rises.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

The tension on the jet is thick, you're absolutely sure everybody can feel it. Hardly anyone has interacted with Spencer, except to ask him a question about the case. You sit back against the couch, Luke sitting in one of the chairs at the table, and Spencer sitting on the arm of the chair next to you. In your hand was a nearly empty cup of coffee, and just as you move to refill, Luke rises with his own empty cup.

"Need a refill?" He asks, offering you a friendly smile.

"Yeah actually-"

"I got it." Spencer says abruptly, standing from where he was sitting. His eyes meet Luke's, silently challenging him. You try to be understanding, but you can't help but feel annoyed at Spencer. If he was acting like this to some random guy then that's one thing, but this is Luke. He's your friend, he's Spencer's friend. Luke, and the rest of the team, put everything on the line to free Spencer from Prison.

"It's cool man, I can do it-" Luke offers again, but Spencer isn't having it.

"I said I got it." Spencer reaches his hand out for your mug, which you instantly give to him. His eyes don't leave Luke's until he turns around and heads to the back of the jet to refill your coffee. Luke pauses for a few seconds, his eyes meeting yours and mirroring the same look of concern before he heads for the coffee pot as well. Luke isn't even upset by how Spencer is treating him, he- like everyone else, is worried about Spencer's psyche.

"What is going on with Spencer?" JJ whispers once she's sure Spencer is out of earshot. You shrug, your worried eyes landing on your husband. His posture is tense, almost defensive.

"Well can you blame him? In Prison, everything that's yours can and will be stolen by the other male inmates. Now that he's free, Spencer is being protective of his wife, someone that is his and can be taken by other men." Rossi says, always naturally a tad protective of Spencer.

"There isn't a man on this planet that would make me leave Spencer." You say defensively, although you know Rossi didn't mean anything by what he said.

"That might be obvious to you, but not to Spencer." JJ says, eyeing Spencer standing back near the coffee machine.

"Doing okay man?" Luke asks hesitantly as he moves to stand next to Spencer.

"Yep." Spencer says shortly, waiting for the pot to brew. Luke feels the tension rolling off Spencer in waves, and it's all being directed at him and he's not sure why.

"Look, if I've done something to upset you, just talk to me about it Reid." Luke's voice is gentle, understanding. Spencer's jaw clenches again as the pot finishes brewing and he refreshes your cup before reaching for the creamer.

"I'm fine Alvez. Really." Spencer says again, but Luke isn't willing to let this go yet.

"No Reid, you're not-"

"Stop flirting with my wife." Spencer's tone is firm, and the look in his eyes tells Luke just how on edge Spencer is.

"You got it." Luke agrees instantly, even though he was never flirting with you. But he knows that right now arguing with Spencer will only make things worse. Seemingly satisfied with Luke's answer, Spencer carries your cup back you, slinging an arm around you.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Spencer twists his wedding ring around his ring finger, something he does when he's stressed out or tense. You're currently sat in the interrogation room with the male suspect, a tattoo artist attending AA meetings, the tattoo on the first victim was the shakiest because he had just quit drinking. The other, more recent, victims tattoo's were more steady. The longer he stayed sober, the more his trembling faded. In Spencer's other palm is your wedding ring, you fit the physical preference of this killer perfectly, but he only went after single women. Emily thought sending somebody in fitting his victimology would throw him off enough to say something incriminating. In order for the rouse to work, you needed to appear single- meaning the wedding ring had to come off. The thought didn't settle well in Spencer's gut.

"You have to relax." JJ said suddenly from Spencer's right. He nearly ignored her but his frayed nerves were beginning to eat at him.

"I can't. Do you see the way he's looking at her?" Spencer was pacing back and forth in front of the one way glass like a caged animal, unable to take his eyes off of the train wreck happening in front of him.

"She can handle herself Spence." JJ insists gently, almost using a motherly tone to talk to him.

"She's mine!" And suddenly the crux of the issue comes to light, and Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy breath. JJ thinks about her words carefully, trying to find something to say that will calm him at least a little.

"Yeah, and nothing is going to change that Spencer. You need to relax, and you have to trust her. You're not in Prison anymore, nobody is going to take her from you." JJ says, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly the sound of metal screeching across a concrete floor sounds from behind Spencer and when he turns around, his blood boils hot in his veins. The suspect, Alan Baker, has shoved out of his chair and has started towards you.

"Spencer-" JJ's voice is distant, and comes too late. Spencer isn't listening to her anymore when his fist curls around the door handle and he nearly rips it off its hinges.

"You need to step back." Spencer snaps, reaching for his gun as Alan Baker backs you into the corner of the interrogation room. You weren't ever truly afraid, you could have handled Alan. Slowly, Alan backs away from you and Spencer instantly reaches for you. He leads you out of the room with a gentle but firm hand on your back. Once you're out of the interrogation room you turn to Spencer.

"What the hell? I could have dealt with him!" You insist, frustration laced in your tone. At this point JJ silently slips out of the room, giving you and Spencer some much needed privacy. Spencer crosses his arms as he leans back against the one way mirror.

"You didn't need to, I did." Spencer huffs and you seriously resist the urge to throw something at him.

"What is your problem today? You could have compromised my entire interrogation, he's never going to tell me anything now!" You snap, anger pinching at your features.

"Good! Now you have no reason to talk to him again." Spencer snaps back, can't you see that he's just protecting what's his?

"Spencer we're trying to save somebody! You're being selfish!" You say to him angrily, trying your best not to start yelling at him. Spencer's selfish possessiveness over you could have just ruined your entire investigation.

"This is why the Bureau was hesitant to reinstate you. They were scared you wouldn't be able to control yourself." You snap at him, crossing your arms.

"Are you saying they made a mistake?" Spencer asks incrediously, suddenly becoming defensive.

"Maybe they did. Because you're acting like an asshole right now. You've been a jerk to Luke the entire day when he busted his ass to help get you out of Prison and back to me! Since when have you not trusted me during an interrogation? What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to let him touch me? I thought you trusted me." You cry out, tears filling your eyes now. Spencer didn't say anything as you turned for the door, anger still laced in his features.

"This has nothing to do with me not trusting you-"

"If you don't trust me, then maybe you should just hold onto my wedding ring for a while. I don't want it." You snap quietly, and you regret the words the second they leave your lips. No matter how mad he makes you, you'd never leave Spencer. You watch Spencer's expression shift from anger to...hurt. He watches silently as you slam the door behind you. Prison has turned him into somebody he isn't, and Spencer doesn't know how to turn off this part of his brain. The part telling him that you belong to him, and that he needs to protect what's his.

Rossi catches the sight of your tear stained cheeks as you move back towards the kitchen in the precinct. You wipe your tears as he comes to stand beside you, and the look on his face tells you that he overheard your fight with Spencer. Rossi bumps you with his elbow gently, a small smile on his face.

"You don't look okay." He says softly and you let out a self-depreciating laugh.

"I'm not. I don't know how to help Spencer, he doesn't trust me." You say sadly, your heart breaking in your chest.

"It's not you he doesn't trust, it's other men." Rossi clarifies, although it does little to ease the pain. You reach up to brush your hair behind your ear when Rossi catches your hand, examining your ring finger.

"Where's your wedding ring?"

"Told Spencer I didn't want it." The words are laced with heavy regret, and when you remember the look on his face when you said it you almost start to cry again. Rossi wraps an arm around you, and you lean your head on his shoulder.

"Deep down, he knows you didn't mean it." He tries to reassure you.

"That's the problem, he probably thinks I meant it."

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Normally it only takes you and Spencer a few hours to smooth things over after a fight. But this time, it's been nearly 3 hours and you haven't spoken a word to each other. You're both working on searching through Alan Baker's financial records without speaking at all. Neither of you have said anything, and Spencer still has your wedding ring. You desperately want it back, but you don't know how to start that conversation. You're angry about how he's been treating everybody, and you feel like asking for your ring is accepting defeat. You're not ready to accept defeat. When Emily comes into the room, her eyes settle on the two of you.

"Okay, what's going on with you guys?" Her arms are crossed.

"Nothing." The word comes from both yours and Spencer's mouths at the same time, and you say it far too quickly. Emily raises one brow at the two of you before closing the door behind her.

"Alright I'm going to have to be a boss now. We are not going to lock this guy away if the two of you are fighting. We need everybody on their A-game. Fix it. Now, and I mean right now." She says, leaving the room but closing the door behind her. There's a suffocating silence that fills the room, both you and Spencer too stubborn to speak first. But you can't take it, you hate it when he's mad at you. You hate it when you guys fight, which isn't often but it does happen occasionally.

"I didn't mean it." You whisper, leaning on the table, facing away from him. Spencer doesn't say anything but you know he's listening.

"I didn't mean it Spencer, I want my ring." He'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to hear you say that, his entire world crashed down around him the second you told him to keep the ring. The irrational part of his brain told him you were going to divorce him.

"Can I please have it back?" You ask, barely turning your head to look at him. With a huff Spencer pushes away from the table to move in front of you. His eyes are focused on your hand, he has yet to look at you. Spencer fishes around in his pocket before he finds your ring and gently slides it onto your ring finger.

"You have to stop glaring at any man that gets to close to me, especially Luke." You tell him, but he continues to look away from you. Spencer pushes past you to stand near the windows, his back facing you. The thing about Spencer is that he's stubborn, really stubborn. You take a few steps towards him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"I love you Spencer, I'm sorry. I was an ass, but you acted like an ass too." You tell him, but Spencer only turns his head further away from you. You move to stand in front of him, but his eyes turn to the ground and his arms are crossed tightly. Seriously?

"Please talk to me Spencer, tell me what's going on." You can see the frustration laced in his features, there's something on the tip of his tongue that he needs to say.

"Spencer."

"After you left from your visit, do you know why I didn't let you come back?" Spencer snaps, his hands finding your shoulders to yank your body against his. Your chest collides with his and suddenly you feel a dampness building between your legs. You instantly turn to putty in his hands.

"I didn't let you come back because that asshole told everybody about you. Told everybody what a tight little body you have. Soon the entire cell block was fantasizing about my 'sexy wife'. Do you have any idea what it's like to listen to men constantly talk about fucking your wife?" Spencer's voice is tense, but you can see it. The lust building behind his eyes, the frustration, and the fear of losing you simmering underneath it all.

"N-No." Your voice is breathy, and your eyes are lidded as Spencer's hands slide up your arms to your shoulders.

"It's fucking hell Y/N. Every time I see any man look at you I want to rip his eyes out, and I can't turn it off. I've tried, and the way that Alvez looks at you- it drives me fucking crazy." Spencer snaps, the anger building by the second. Your entire body begins to hum with an intense need, and Spencer can see it in your eyes. Spencer releases you then and he turns for the door, at first you're afraid he's going to leave but instead he locks the door. Luckily it's late, so the police station is more deserted then it is during the day. Turning back to you, Spencer reaches for the blinds next and you can't help but follow his every movement with your eyes.

"Get on your knees." Spencer says suddenly, and you freeze in shock. Did he just say...?

"Get. On. Your. Knees." Spencer says again through clenched teeth, leaning back against the table, heat simmering in his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the table and you feel a throb from between your legs. Quickly you scramble onto your knees in front of him, your hands reaching up to undo his belt. Once the belt is unfastened, you're quickly unbuttoning his dress slacks, your eagerness making your hands a bit clumsy. Spencer has never been this dominant during sex, but you have no complaints. He has your knees weak and he hasn't even touched you. You quickly dip your hand into his boxers to pull his hardening cock out. As soon as his cock is freed, your lips are wrapping around the head. Spencer's head tosses back in ecstasy.

"Your lips look so pretty stretched around my cock. Those bastards could only imagine having you on your knees for them." Spencer snaps, his hand weaving into the hair at the back of your head. You moan softly around him at his crude words, slowly sliding down his cock. Spencer groans when he feels your tongue laving the underside of his cock, along the vein that runs from base to tip. Apparently feeling impatient, Spencer pushes your head further down his cock. He feels his tip right at the entrance of your throat, and with one gentle thrust he breaches your throat and his cock slides all the way into your mouth.

"Fuck," Spencer hisses, and Spencer does not curse often. So the fact that you have been able to draw curses from his mouth is nothing short of a miracle. Spencer's chest heaves slightly as you gag lightly around him, drawing another deep groan from his chest. You feel nearly desperate to please him, you need to make him cum. You want him to fucking pound you, you want him to use your body for his pleasure. You want him to release all of his frustration out on you, you want to be sore when he's done.

"You're mine. This is my body to touch and admire, my tight pussy to stretch open, mine." Spencer growls, thrusting gently to meet your hasty movements. You whimper around his cock, gagging slightly again as spit dribbles down your chin. Your eyes are wide and watery as you look up at him, and the sight of you nearly causes him to blow his load. You just look so fucking beautiful on your knees in front of him, drool on your chin and your mouth full of cock. It's a sight he will never forget. You move your head faster, keeping your eyes locked on his. Spencer squeezes the edge of the table, his head tossing back when his orgasm hits him. You feel his cum shooting in spurts to the back of your throat and you swallow every drop. Once you pull off him, Spencer is grabbing your elbows to pull you to stand.

Spencer's hands are reaching for the button of your dress slacks as his mouth presses messily to yours. Spencer's tongue pushes into your mouth, his hands pushing your pants down and you kick them off. Instantly, Spencer's fingers are sliding into your panties and through your slick folds. You whine loudly against his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as his palm roughly cradles the back of your head.

"Need to make sure you know who you belong to." Spencer snaps as he pulls away from you, quickly pushing two long fingers into your dripping hole. You cry out before Spencer is slapping a hand over your mouth, your back pressed against the wall. Spencer's slender frame is leaning against you, effectively trapping you against the wall and his body. Your eyes are rolling when Spencer's finger crook inside of you while roughly thrusting into you.

"Gotta be quiet, wouldn't want Luke to catch us now would we?" Spencer breathes in the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. You are completely at Spencer's mercy and you wouldn't have it any other way. The pleasure shooting through you goes rocketing up your spine when Spencer scissors his fingers inside of you. You're mumbling incoherently against his palm, desperate pleas not to stop, to please let you cum. Your entire body is flushed, and you feel sweat on your skin like a sheen layer over you. Spencer feels you begin to squeeze around his fingers and he replaces his palm with his mouth, swallowing all of your moans and desperate cries.

Your back is arching as your high approaches, and you climb higher and higher to meet it. Spencer never lets up, his fingers steadily pumping into you and his lips muffling all of your cries of pleasure. The sounds you make are music to his ears, they tell him that you will always be his, no matter what childish fears he has. Your hands come up to unbutton the buttons on Spencer's dress shirt, you need to feel more of him. Before you can finish undressing your husband, his fingers nudge your cervix and you instantly clamp around his fingers, your body convulsing.

"You look so beautiful when you cum." Spencer praises, his cock rock hard again. He needs to be inside of you as soon as humanely possible. Spencer pulls away from you to grasp the base of his cock, no need to bother with protection. The two of you already agreed that you want to try for a baby anyway.

"Please baby, please get inside me. How could you think I'd ever leave you? I love you, and nobody could make me cum like you can." You moan desperately, turning to bend over the table. Spencer's hand runs up your spine, enjoying the way you wriggle your hips in search of his cock. There are butterflies squirming in your stomach as you spread your legs apart wider for him, but he still doesn't bring his cock closer to you.

"Oh c'mon Spence don't do this please. Baby, fuck me." You plead, nearly sobbing as you shamlessly beg. He presses his tip against your soaked entrance and you whine. You hear fabric rustling around and you turn your head just in time to see him pull his tie from around his neck.

"I needed to hear you beg for me, and this is to keep you quiet. As much as I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, I can't let anyone else hear you." Spencer says, his voice low and rumbling from his chest. You open your mouth to let him tie the silk fabric in your mouth. You try to whimper but you gag around the tie in your mouth, and you see a pleased smile cross onto Spencer's face. Your fingers grasp at the edge of the table as you impatiently wait for Spencer to push into you. You feel his glorious cock nestled at your entrance, the tip barely nudging in. You feel another wave of slick gush out of you and Spencer is running his tip through your already drenched folds. Such a tease.

You whine softly, trying to push back against him. Spencer chuckles darkly before his hands grasp your hips to hold you steady. With one firm thrust, Spencer is breaching your folds and sliding deep inside you. You feel heat searing through you, your head dropping to the table as you whimper through the burn. The stretch burns more then you anticipated, and you hear Spencer groaning softly, which sends another wave of liquid heat rushing through you.

"God you feel so good baby, you take my cock so fucking well." Spencer praises, gently pulling out to slowly thrust back in. His eyes are locked on the place where you two connect, watching with hooded eyes as his cock disappears inside you.

"I wish you could see this baby, I love watching you take my cock." He praises through a soft moan, and you drink up every sound he makes. Spencer needed this so bad and you love the fact that you can give him a type of relief nobody else on the planet can give him. Spencer steadily thrusts into you when you both hear footsteps slowly passing outside the room. You expect Spencer to stop, to pull out of you and start redressing but he doesn't. He slows his pace considerably, but he still slowly thrusts into you.

"Shh, I would hate for whoever that is to see my cock buried in your pretty pussy." Spencer whispers as he leans forward to whisper in your ear. You struggle to contain the whimpers, but somehow you remain completely silent as Spencer gently thrusts into you. Once whoever it is passes by, Spencer resumes his quicker thrusts. His pelvis hits your ass with enough force to send you lurching across the table and your fingers scramble to find purchase against the smooth surface.

"This is my pussy, you're my wife, you're mine. Not Luke's, not that dick from the Prison. Mine." Spencer says, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust into you. You wished you could answer him, that you could cry to the heavens that you belong to Spencer Reid- that you never want to belong to anybody else. You settle for squeezing his cock whenever it returns to your velvety warmth, chanting the same word in your head over and over.

Yours yours yours yours yours.

Your forehead presses against the table, muffled and strangled cries escaping your lips every time Spencer hits deep inside you. His cock stretches you perfectly, and always hits places deep inside you. Places you didn't know existed. Soon you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and you feel lightheaded so you reach up to yank the tie away from your mouth.

"Please make me cum Spence, I'm so close baby please don't stop." You beg, muffling your moans with your palm as he drives his cock into you. You feel sweat covering your entire body and Spencer holds your hips with a bruising force. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter, and you release a high pitched whine when Spencer's hand snakes around your body to thumb your clit.

"Oh Spencer your cock feels so good, soo good baby. Always feels so good, fuck baby I love you," You're not sure what you're saying at this point, an incoherent mess of praises for the man above you. Spencer loves when he reduces you to this, speaking in a jumble of words and disconnected statements because you can't think with his cock inside you.

"I, shit, I love you-" Spencer gasps, slamming his cock inside you and rolling your clit before you're squeezing around him tightly, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. You cum in hot gushes around him and Spencer can only offer a few more stuttering thrusts before he's cumming with a loud growl, coating your walls in his hot cum. Spencer keeps his cock inside you, ensuring his cum stays inside you. He wants to get you pregnant. His palms gently hold your hips, and all the frustration he's felt all day has completely disappeared. His chest is heaving from the exertion but he feels more relaxed then he has all day. There's a smile on your face and your eyes are closed as your legs finally give out and you collapse against the table.

"You okay?" You hear Spencer's voice, and you can't help but smile when you hear that he's panting slightly. You hum with a smile on your face.

"I'm amazing." You mumble back, feeling Spencer begin to gently massage your back. You love enjoying the afterglow with him, even if you're laying on a table. Slowly Spencer pulls out, but he groans softly when he sees his cum inside your pussy. He reaches to the floor to pull your panties and dress slacks back up your legs and he quickly tucks himself back into his pants. He buttons the 4 buttons you managed to open on his shirt before he's gently pulling you to stand.

"You sure you're alright?" Spencer asks, concern in his eyes. You nod with a smile, but when he releases his hold on your shoulders, you feel your legs tremble and give out underneath you. Spencer immediately catches you and sets you down on the table. You laugh softly.

"Guess you fucked me good."

"Sorry." Spencer says sheepishly, but you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Don't be, that had to have been the best sex we've had in a long time." You mumble against his lips and Spencer hums in agreement. Reaching for his tie, Spencer shoves it in his pocket before he pokes his head out of the room you guys just defiled.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry about what I said. I love you so much, I didn't mean what I said about my ring-" You blubber suddenly, drawing Spencer's attention to you. He cradles your head against his chest, pressing kisses to your forehead.

"I know baby, it's okay. I love you." Spencer answers quietly, holding you to him tightly.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk today. I'm just so protective of you. I can't let anything steal you from me." Spencer admits softly and you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. There is a sadness in his eyes that you want to obliterate, you can't stand it when he's sad. It breaks your heart.

"Nothing could steal me from you. I only want you Spencer." You say quietly and you see tears misting his eyes. He presses his lips desperately against yours, and you feel tears cascading down yours and his cheeks. The kiss is wet, but it's passionate and you throw every ounce of love you have for this man into it. When you and Spencer part, your foreheads are pressed together.

"Hey Spence? How am I gonna get to the hotel. I can't walk." You say softly with a giggle and Spencer smiles mischievously.

"I guess I'll have to carry you." He scoops you bridal style into his arms then and you blush deeply when he carries you out of the room and towards the front entrance.

"Spencer! Everybody is going to know!" You whisper into his ear and he chuckles.

"Good."

[maginxlia]

Nanami, Gojo, Toji and Sukuna Ryomen in The Christmas Special

Rated R

Contains Foul language and Suggestive Themes

Since Almost Every Good TV series has a Christmas Special or two or more (Looking at you Simpsons!) It's only fitting that I pull my creative block away and Give y'all a little something for the Holidays🎄I appreciate all the love and support y'all give to me and I want to truly thank you all💖 Pronouns Out of this because issa party for everybody 💖 I hope y'all have a Beautiful and Safe holiday💖 For those of y'all who's able to see y'all family for the holidays, I wish y'all well and safe travels with a beautiful loving holiday with the ones you love💖 For those who aren't able to see y'all families, I wish you well and I want you to know you are loved, I hope that your holiday can be wonderful even tho it might Not be the way you planned it💖 Sending y'all lots of love from the Southern Wonderland✨

Tldr: I love y'all and Merry Christmas! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Yule! I hope y'all had a Happy Hanukkah! In short Happy Holidays 💖

Nanami Kento

Nanami is a man who loves Traditions

Setting up the tree together? Hanging his favorite ornaments that you bought for him? Singing Carols together? Sign him up

Loves the way a real tree smell like but he always set up the artificial tree instead

Nanami has antique decorations that were given to him and he's very proud of them

He has an old ass recipe book that his granny gave to him so he knows how to make Snickerdoodles And soft gingerbread men

Loves to try new recipes with you and Making beautiful Gingerbread houses with you

Drinks adult (Liquored up) Eggnog Every night before bed

Adores old Christmas movies and will cry during Rudolph

Thoughtful high quality gifts, Nanami is a man who listens and observes

Also has the skill of gift wrapping down, The gifts look like something out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine

Would love to start the tradition of y'all buying special ornaments each year

Spends hours getting the lights right inside and out

Likes to keep everything neat and orderly aka the HOA doesn't have shit to say

Slow dancing Together to old Christmas music and with Him absent mindlessly humming along🥰

Making homemade hot chocolate and watching the fire while the Christmas lights are the only thing lit is 100/100

Making love to you by the fire is 1,000% vibes for him

Loves and respect all of your traditions

It warms his heart doing something charitable for The community

Gojo Satoru

Gojo is fucking ready Shit he's been Ready since January

Literally want y'all place to be the best decorated in the community

Has a prelit white artificial tree and love to decorate the tree with themes in mind

Decorating The tree with this man is an oddly romantic event, If you can't reach the top He will pick you up so you can put ornaments around the top of the tree and the smirk he has is so sly

Goes all out on the lights outside so much that he makes the community have power outage 🤦🏾‍♀️

Gojo got y'all power bill outrageous and the HOA IS BIG MAD

Actually has a list of people to get gifts for and he can decently wrap them too

He Will be hurt if they don't get him a card or small present

Mans will frequently sit under y'all tree naked with a bow on his meat talking about " Unwrap me Baby”

Drinks from a Christmas mug That says "Ho Ho Hoe" on it

Gojo can't control himself around mistletoe 🤦🏾‍♀️ He's nasty and we all know this, Guaranteed to have your clothes undone and his tongue in your mouth in 0.1 seconds

Purchase a lot of gag gifts but also a lot of heartfelt ones too

He wears Ugly Christmas sweaters until Christmas is over

Watch cheesy romance Christmas movies and say "Baby that could be us"

Do not let him drink eggnog with alcohol in it! He will get drunk, clingy and Sleazy

Dresses like Santa Claus and want you to act out one of his favourite XXX Films

Also He does an amazing Santa baby cover that can make Eartha Kitt blush and Make Megumi sick

Host a bomb ass Christmas party every year that not so surprisingly make the Neighborhood hate him even more

Will successfully guess every gift someone brought him just by picking it up

Fushiguro Toji

Christmas spirit??? Toji doesn't even know her

Mans is big mad

Buying gifts? Goodwill towards man? Hanging lights??? A tree?¿? Decorations?!?!? He could go gambling with all that money and energy

That doesn't mean he will deter you from it tho, If it put a smile on your face he'll of course suck it up

Also let's all be honest if you were nothing but a fling and a warm place to stay, Toji would be M.I.A for the holidays so he wouldn't have to buy you a gift (Just Scrub Tings) But He considers you his last chance at happiness

Don't let him pick the tree because lemme tell you he will pick the most pitiful twig they got and lie about it being all they had left🤦🏾‍♀️

He Might lift that fine ass off the couch and put one or two ornaments on the tree but that about it

Would prefer if y'all didn't illuminate the place where he “hides out”

Finds himself enjoying the snacks and cuisine that comes with Christmas

Will eat a tin of Christmas cookies while looking at TV

If you make a gingerbread house He's gonna to eat it

Grumbles about watching Christmas movies but will oblige if you sit on his lap while watching them

The Grinch and Scrooge are both misunderstood characters to him and he relates to them

even tho he's not about that spirit of gift buying but he makes sure to get you something nice and he wouldn't be piss if you don't get him anything

Hates the thought of mistletoe; he doesn't need some “weed” to kiss you until you're weak in the knees

Carolers beware! Toji will not tolerate strangers at y'all home and will Threaten their life expectancy

Doesn't trust Eggnog but loves sparkling grape juice

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna never really cared to celebrate the holidays but now he has you so he is willing to go all out

Personally Thinks Christmas is about receiving and he likens it to his days of when people would give him offerings

Sukuna really out in these streets keeping Yuuji up at night talking about Presents🤦🏾‍♀️ For himself 🤦🏾‍♀️

No joke He's really gift centered I mean yes he'll help you put up the tree but if there isn't at least one gift under the tree for him on the 25th..... He's yeeting the tree out the fucking window

That being Said he wants the biggest tree and he wants to load it down with tinsel and ornaments to the point it looks kinda tacky

Will spray tons of fake snow on it too

Tries to put up lights and gets agitated the moment they get knotted up or don't work so of course he yanks the bitches off the house in one go (Damage who?)

Tries to put up an inflatable but he was reckless with his claws and he punctured it

So outside decorations is all a Yuuji Job

All the Christmas theme sweets got him intoxicated

Little Debbie tree cakes are his drugs, Sukuna will eat three boxes a day and will get very pissed if you touch one of his cakes without asking first (will be pissed that you even want one)

Likes some of the old Christmas music but he will destroy your radio if all I want for Christmas is you plays more than 2 times

Yuuji Has to tell him that it's not normal to buy gifts for himself and that Christmas is about giving to others

Also Sukuna is forced to budget, He's only allowed to spend 300 hundred dollars on his gifts for you

He struggles with his budget to get you something he deems worthy of royalty but he somehow manages

Don't think for one minute he wrapped the gifts himself, He paid the professionals to do it

CAN and WILL Shake the fuck outta the gifts under the tree so watch him

Drinks so much Eggnog that he makes Yuuji belly ache for three suns

Make sure to always be in control whenever there is mistletoe nearby, if Yuuji dare to kiss you it will be hell to pay

Type to hold you firmly against him as he kisses you so deeply that he takes your breath away, Also you can feel all those muscles 🤤

Will bitch about watching old holiday films with you but slowly come to appreciate if not love them

Likes, Comments, Reblogs and Requests is Hella Appreciated Loved💖 Please don't Steal My Shit

[jacobthomaskiszka-sir]

11 Minutes

Okay, this is my first fic on here so I apologize if anything is weird or not set up quite right. This was an idea that came to me last night and I just had to get it out to someone. If you guys like it, I’d love to make more parts! I’m always open to suggestions and ideas as well ❤️ Thanks for reading.

Warnings: Character death, mention of car accident, lots of tears, sad Josh makes me sad

Reader x Jake

“I’m 11 minutes away”

You checked your phone for what felt like the 100th time, looking at the last text Jake had sent you. It had been 20 minutes now and you still hadn’t seen or heard from him. He was notorious for running late, but you really thought he’d at least try today given the circumstances. You sighed as you stood up, making sure your ringtone was at full volume before throwing your phone down on the couch behind you. Glancing out your window briefly, you barely registered the lights and sirens racing down your street as you made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a drink.

You hadn’t seen Jake since the day you guys had called it quits almost 2 years ago now. Things had ended so ugly between the two of you that you honestly never believed that you’d see him again. If you thought too hard about it, you could still see the disgust in his eyes as he packed all of his stuff and left you alone in the same apartment you stood in now. The silence had never really left since that day.

A month ago he had called you for the first time since then. He’d just returned from tour and wanted to take you out for coffee. You’d hoped maybe there was a chance he’d missed you even just a fraction of how badly you missed him. As much as it seemed you both wanted to see each other, something had always come up for one of you; him constantly being called in to the studio, or your boss making you stay late at work. Any plans that you’d made had never seemed to work out until today.

You thought your heart was going to beat out of your chest all day as you went through the motions of getting ready. What am I going to say to him? Is it weird to give him a hug? Oh my god, what if I start crying? You’d picked out one of your old outfits that he had always loved on you; worn black jeans and a dark green flannel, buttoned just enough to be considered appropriate. You even took an hour to try and curl your hair, only for it to start to fall into slight waves as soon as you finished. Whatever, at least it looks like I tried. You’d thought to yourself.

Now you stood in your kitchen, leaning back against the counter as you sipped on a glass of red wine, desperately trying to calm your nerves. You looked up at the clock on your stove and your heart sank a little more. It had been 30 minutes now. Although Jake was known for being late, you knew he’d usually at least text you at this point. It was unlike him to just leave you hanging like this, and you hoped he wasn’t just standing you up. You sighed, downing the rest of the wine in your glass before turning and pouring another. As you raised the glass to your lips you felt the weight of two arms encircling your waist. You jumped at the feeling and slammed the glass down onto the counter as you turned around, looking up into familiar, albeit sad, brown eyes. Jake. You chuckled as your heartbeat began to return to normal, placing a hand on his chest as you shook your head.

“You scared the shit out of me.. I didn’t even hear you come in.” You frowned for a moment before looking up at him again, not registering that you couldn’t feel any warmth from his body. He just smiled in return and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and sighed at the pressure of his soft lips against your skin. “Jake..” He shushed you quietly and tucked your hair behind your ear before moving his fingertips to your chin and lifting your lips to his. This wasn’t what you’d expected at all, but who were you to complain? You sighed into him and kissed him slowly. As you leaned into his touch, you realized you felt more at ease in this moment than you had in the last two years without him.

Suddenly, a quiet knock at your door grabbed your attention. You snapped your eyes open and the first thing you noticed was the absence of Jake. Your head shot side to side as you tried to place him, your heart starting to pick up its pace again. Was this all just a daydream? There’s no way, I only had two glasses..

A second knock, louder this time, pulled you out of your thoughts and before you knew it you were walking towards the front door of your apartment. You swallowed quickly before opening the door, shocked to find Josh on the other side. His shirt was wet from the rain outside and his hair was in damp curls hanging low around his face, his soft eyes clearly tear stained as he looked up at you.

“I’ve been trying to call you for hours..” He whispered quietly; his voice threatening to crack at any moment. You frowned and looked at the clock as you stepped aside for him to enter. 9:13. It had been 4 hours. You grew even more confused as you looked back to Josh.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Was all you could come up with. You had no way to explain what the hell had just happened to you, and clearly he needed you right now more than you did him. He walked past you into your apartment, tears falling down his cheeks before he was able to quickly wipe them away.

“Y/N..” He sobbed quietly as he slumped onto your couch, his face falling into his hands with his elbows on his knees. His back shook with his quivering breaths. “Jake, he-he’s..” Josh’s voice broke as he cried his brothers name. “He’s gone.”

What? You couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around what he had just said. You sank into the couch beside Josh and placed a hand on his back, trying to comfort him in any way. He was usually such a ray of sunshine and happiness; you’d never seen him this torn apart. “What? No, I swear he was just here..” You whispered as you looked down at the floor, frowning slightly as you thought back to earlier in the night. His words were still swimming in your head as you tried to make sense of everything that had happened tonight. He’s gone.

Josh sniffled and looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, and the look of sympathy and sadness that he gave you broke your heart even more than you ever thought possible. “He came and said goodbye to you, too?” He asked in a broken whisper.

[ami-s-place]

Replaced GN!mc au

part 2

!!Mentions of suicide!!

(This one is gonna be more like mini fics more than hc)

Summary:

Mc wants to be better they want to be appreciated but no one listens even doing the most drastic thing.. no one listens to their pleads of help.

After the older brothers refuse to care or even talk to mc they try and seek refuge the younger brothers

Mc walks to their room almost feeling so forgotten and unloved that they want to commit again. But they try and fight back the unwanted voices in their head

They make it too their room but it’s upsetting that the brothers don’t care. The words that float around in their head are disgusting and vile they couldn’t stop think of killing them self or maybe going back to the human world and killing them self there.

Or maybe try get Satan to kill them, they liked the idea. If they ticked Satan off, then he’d kill them. Although he might torture them, so they decide to use their potion that they made but, they were thinking about it harder

Would he really kill me?

This seems a bit weird

I don’t know if this is a good idea

Do I sound crazy?

Maybe I shouldn’t .

You walked over to Satan’s room maybe he might comfort me maybe he’d talk to me

You knocked on the door hoping that he would let you in

“Who is it?”

“Uh Mc?”

You heard him sigh but nonetheless he let you in

“Uhm, Satan couldihangoutwithyou?” You said afraid of his answer

“What was that? I couldn’t really hear since you were talking so fast” he said so sarcasticly it seemed like he didn’t really care and tried to get you out of his room as fast as possible

“Oh I said uhm could I hang out with you?”

You turned your head the other direction and fiddled with you hands feeling nervous

He audibly sighed and you felt horrible

He doesn’t even wanna hang out with me he’d probably say yes to r/n

“Fine”

He said it like it was a chore

You didn’t know what to do so you went up and asked him awkwardly what he was reading

“You should know you can read can’t you?”

A little murmur came out of your mouth you didn’t know what to do so you took a seat and scrolled through devil gram

You saw tons of pretty demons and witches, and a lot of demons hanging out

You began got tear up but you didn’t wanna cry in front of Satan scared that he’d make fun of you

You left quietly he didn’t even try to stop you you stayed by his door and heard him talk to himself about hating you,

“Finally that ugly bitch left”

That caused you to start immediately crying not even knowing that you could whenever you were sad you didn’t really cry you were just numb but something happened when you killed yourself

You scratched it of as you being sensitive

lying in your bed you quietly cried yourself to sleep

You woke softly to a white space by yourself

“H-hello?“ you spoke softly as alarming as this was you weren’t scared , more comforted and safe

It was 6:26 in the devildom and none of the brothers wanted to wake you up it was the weekend so they didn’t care

r/n wanted to see you but she was hanging out with Satan and she didn’t want to leave him overwise he’d be sad but nonetheless she did

Gently she knocked on you door and came in

You were still sleeping but she wanted to wake you up for dinner

So she tried calling your name and rocking you back and forth

She felt bad for invading your privacy but she was worried you don’t usually sleep in for that long

“Mc? Mc ? Mc wake up!!”

She began overflowing with worry she thought of telling one of the angels and she did

Rushing over to purgatory hall she knocks on the door frantically

Simon opens the door with a smile

You stand up from the soft velvety floor of the white room, you were so confused, a lady stood upon you gazing at her graceful presence

She stood tall and confident. You feel under her strong gaze

“Hello, Mc”

“Care to take a seat?”

“S-sure” you said

“My name is Lilith”

You were shocked Lilith ? This was going so fast too fast one minute you were getting rejected by Satan next you’re talking to Lilith?!?

“Lilith? Like your brothers are lucifer and mammon?”

“Yes” her voice echoed like some godly creature

Part 3:

[bumbleklee]

philocaly (kaeya x reader)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server

★ ironically this came to me in a dream last night lol. it’s also 4 in the morning so please excuse anything that makes no sense <3

★ summary: you have the worst nightmare of your life but thankfully kaeya is there to calm you down

★ content warning: there’s a very quick, very vague sex scene that isn’t detailed at all but just so everyone knows. major angst but also major comfort so do with that what you will. also reader was written as female but its pretty vague so feel free to imagine them as whoever you want

philocaly

(n) the love of beauty 

The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was the intoxicating smell of gasoline that surrounded you. Your body felt sticky and wet and it didn’t take long for you to realize you were drenched in petroleum. You felt dazed and when you tried to look around, your eyesight blurred and you stared into a cloudy abyss.

A voice began speaking and you jolted up, trying to find the source only to find absolutely nothing. You didn’t even know if you were sitting in a chair.

“So naive…”

Your breath caught in your throat when you recognized the voice as Kaeya’s. But your mouth wasn’t moving. You thrashed around but it was like your arms were being held down by invisible bonds.

“Don’t panic, pretty,” Kaeya said. His voice echoed around the room and finally the clouds started to dissipate. Your beloved boyfriend stood feet away from you, wearing a brilliant white tuxedo. “We’re just going to talk. For now.”

Out of thin air, Kaeya pulled a chair in front of you. He sat down in it backwards, leaning his head on his arms. He had his signature smile on his face but his eyes were dull and emotionless. Suddenly your feet hit something hard and you glanced down, seeing a polished wooden floor beneath your shoes.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Kaeya purred, looking at you in a way that made you shiver, “Do you really think you amount to anything in this world?”

His words stunned you. What was going on? You gaped your mouth to speak but no words came out. You didn’t know what to say.

“It would solve a lot of problems if we just got rid of you right now, don’t you think? I would finally be free to find someone worth my time and the rest of Mondstadt would be happy to have such a burden lifted.”

You felt like your throat was on fire. You couldn’t believe Kaeya was saying these things to you but he really was. Tears streamed down your face and you sharply inhaled, your chest aching in pain. You prayed that this was some sick joke.

The gasoline that was poured on your head before started to run down your face, sliding between your eyes and burning your nostrils when you breathed.

“You’re crying now? How pathetic,” Kaeya laughed. He shoved his hand into the pocket of the tuxedo jacket and pulled out a pack of matches. Your eyes widened and you felt yourself stop breathing momentarily. He hummed casually and stood up from the chair, “I can’t wait to find someone so much better.”

You tried to scream, defend yourself, but no sounds came out. It was like your voice box had been ripped away. Your eyesight was blurry again from your tears but you couldn’t even wipe them away. A gloved hand reached out and gripped your jaw, pulling your face upwards. Kaeya was in front of you now, his eyes even more sadistic than before. He cocked his head at you and rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip.

“You always had such an ugly face.”

And with that, Kaeya ripped his hand away and lit a match. He threw it at you carelessly and turned on his heel. As soon as the tiny flame touched the gasoline, it was like an explosion. The flames crawled up your legs and surrounded your body. You had never felt this kind of pain before and it was unbearable. Once again, you tried to scream but only silent heaves escaped your throat. The last thing you saw was Kaeya’s long ponytail being thrown over his shoulder before the flames consumed you.

You shot up in bed, your hands clutching your nightgown like never before. You heaved and erratically inhaled, trying to catch your breath. While you couldn’t feel the flames anymore, in that moment they felt so real. Never before had you had such a horrendous nightmare and you didn’t know how to handle it.

Kaeya’s words rang through your head over and over again. You couldn’t stop the tears falling from your eyes, only this time you could reach up and wipe them away. Hands crawled up your shoulders and Kaeya, the real one, rubbed them slowly.

“You’re drenched in sweat, Princess,” He mumbled, “What happened?”

Your blood grew cold as your dream replayed. You choked back a sob and managed to twist your body so you were facing Kaeya. “I’m okay,” You lied, your voice hoarse and quiet, “I’m just a little shaken up.” Kaeya raised an eyebrow at you. He had seen you shaken up before and it was never this extreme. He opened his mouth to speak but you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. “I want to do it. Right now.”

“What?” Kaeya mumbled between desperate, rough kisses. Normally he wouldn’t be opposed to a spontaneous midnight session but you were clearly in distress.

“Please,” Your voice cracked. You needed to be intimate with Kaeya right now, you needed to feel his body flush against yours. You needed to know that he still wanted you.

Kaeya only nodded and let you push him back onto the bed. You inhaled sharply again and rubbed your cheeks. You slung a leg over Kaeya and wasted no time in kissing down his neck. You placed wet kisses on his skin and Kaeya’s hands grazed your hips. If this was going to make you feel better right now, then he would do anything you wanted.

You inched backwards so your crotch was over Kaeya’s and you pulled down his pants quickly. He was still soft but you didn’t care, lifting up your nightgown and lowering yourself onto Kaeya. He didn’t make his usual sound of pleasure when he entered you but you paid no mind, placing your hands flat on Kaeya’s stomach so you could move your hips and back forth. Your movement was erratic and, honestly, didn’t feel good at all but you needed this intimacy now.

When you and Kaeya made love, it was gentle and sensual. He treated you like glass and his touches made you feel like you were on cloud nine. But this didn’t feel right. You weren’t feeling loved and beautiful this time. You could only think about what Kaeya said in your dream and maybe he was right.

You started crying again and Kaeya’s heart ached. He hated seeing you like this and he knew that having sex wasn’t what you needed right now.

“Alright, we’re done,” Kaeya said softly. His hands tried to lift you off of him but you only ground your hips down and let out a sob.

“No!” You cried, “We have to finish. We have to.”

“No, we don’t,” Kaeya countered. He suddenly overpowered you, lifting your hips off his and moving you beside him in bed. He pulled his pants back up and pulled your nightgown back down. This time, Kaeya leaned over you and boxed your head in with his arms so you couldn’t roll away. “Tell me what happened.”

At this, your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs. You couldn’t breathe and inaudible words floated out of your mouth. You tried to explain your dream but your wails only drowned it out. Kaeya waited patiently for you to stop crying. He hated seeing you cry but knew you needed this and wasn’t going to push you to stop anytime soon.

He stayed perfectly still until your sobs eventually died out. You were still a teary, sniffling mess but at least you could form coherent sentences now. You shakily explained your dream, repeating what was said to you by the love of your life. Kaeya listened and felt sick. His nose brushed against yours.

“None of that is true,” Kaeya said firmly. His eyes stared intensely into yours and your bottom lip quivered again, “You know that, right?”

“I’m so in love with you,” You started, “So in love that a nightmare about you not loving me is more painful than getting stabbed fifty times. I want to be enough for you.”

“You are enough for me.”

Kaeya’s hands brushed through your hair gently, his thumbs rubbing circles in your temple. Your eyes felt heavy and stung from your hysteria. You snaked your arms around Kaeya’s waist and managed to maneuver your bodies so you were both lying on your sides. Kaeya pulled you close to him and you found solace in the crook of his neck. Kaeya pressed soft, warm kisses all over your face and kissed away the rest of your tears.

“I love you, too,” He whispered.

Your eyes fluttered closed and Kaeya waited until your breathing was normal again to close his own. His hand found yours and laced your fingers together and in that moment you realized that this was the intimacy you were longing for so deeply. Your dream that night would haunt you probably for the rest of your life but as long as you could bring yourself back to reality, back to Kaeya, you would be okay.

Kaeya pressed a final kiss to your temple and spoke one last time before sleep overcame you both. Quoting your favorite book Kaeya said, “I’m in love with you, and I know that love in just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

a/n: did i just quote tfios? yes <3