#lets traumatise him some more

[failyaoi]

Takeda "why can't I sleep at night" Takahashi

[tev-the-random]

"This town ain't big enough for the two of us, North Star."

Saw this Bounty Hunter Kanako AU by @raerambling and. I Just Couldn't Help Myself.

Dad Starlo adopts Kanako? The king is dead? Ceroba gets murdered by the police? Little baby Kanako joins the cowboy larping as a bounty hunter of all things? Dude, you've got some juicy stuff going on there!

(got the flat colours downstairs because I think it's a funny contrast lol)

[angeart]

i've been dropping a lot of soft cute art.

here's some angst.

specifically cute guy angst, and yes, this has a whole story built around it. and it does bounce off of stiffy's TOGH au where scar/hotguy is presumed death.

things go well.

[holland-vosijk-antari]

i bet white london vine/tik tok would be absolutely insane

[blackvahana]

never ask a woman her age or [redacted] where he got sacred cow milk from

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

[luveline]

I would dieeee for some more of Spencer and bombshell after her getting injured😭 him taking such good care of her, the BEST doctors, researching every single option😭 reassuring her rhats shes just as pretty😭

—Spencer looks after you while you recover from a brutal injury. fem!reader, 1.1k

Spencer thinks it’s one of the team's more gruesome injuries. Hotch has been stabbed to mince meat and Emily half-killed, Elle got shot, and he’s had his fair share of violence, too, but he can’t imagine the horror of being hit in the face with a hammer. The pain so close to your eyes, your teeth, your brain, the fear and the sudden crack. He feels sick whenever he remembers the sound, and he was sick the first time he dreamt about the way you cried as it happened. Your strange yelp, the immediate drop to the floor. 

Spencer never hit somebody as hard as he did that UnSub. His gun whipped out possessed across the UnSub’s face, and then drove forward into their nose with a stomach turning crunch. 

They’re in custody, and you’re in bed recovering with some of the best doctors in the world. Spencer thinks you both won this round, even if it doesn’t feel like a win right now. 

“Shh,” he whispers, “shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, don’t cry.” 

You cling to his chest as though worried he’s going to move out of reach, sobbing. You’re careful not to touch your face or his chest, the soreness too much, but the rest of you is clinging to him. You don’t have to worry, he’s not going anywhere. 

“Please, it’s okay,” he says, the tip of his nose to your forehead. “You can have another dose in twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes.” 

He supposes the pain reminds you of the full extent of the injury, your jaw fractured in two places, your gum traumatised, your face more bruise than anything else. You hate your appearance being out of your control, it’s making you panic —he can feel you shaking.

He’d sat down with your drink to find you already crying, he couldn’t have been gone for ten minutes, but it was long enough for you to fall deep into the throes of hysteria. You’d grappled for him as he sat down to hug you, your face hidden ever since, and now the shakes have started. He’s hopeless. 

But Spencer’s willing to do anything to make it better. “Can you tell me what’s upsetting you? Please?” he asks.

“It’s–” Harder sobbing, your tears dripping down from your chin to wet the thigh of his pants.

He has to calm you down.

Since you met Spencer, you’ve been the comforter. He can’t count how many times something has hurt him and you’ve rushed to save him. You’ve hugged and held and kissed him into smiling, you’ve never let him down, you’ve forgiven him after a hundred stupid mistakes, so Spencer doesn’t care that you’ve been inconsolable for days. He really doesn’t mind that he’s had to look after you this attentively. It’s his pleasure, and he’s getting better at it. 

He presses a few soft shushes somewhere in your hairline, his hand rubbing a circuit into your back with a firm pressure that never tips into roughness. He does it until his palm is numb. He could paint the slant of your back from muscle memory, fingers tripping down the creased fabric of your pyjamas, pulling back up to your neck. He’s never felt such tender sympathy. He hates that you’re in pain, but he doesn’t hate getting to rub your back. This is surely boyfriend territory. 

“You want something to drink now?” he asks quietly. 

You open your mouth to answer, sighing in pain momentarily. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Did you want the straw?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” He can’t force himself away. “You okay for me to move you?” 

“Yeah.” 

You can’t be blamed for short answers. 

There are surgeries to hold your jaw together when it breaks, and while you were unconscious (shock, rather than head injury), Hotch consented as your next of kin for the doctors to make sure things wouldn’t get worse, but it was Spencer who had to advocate for you afterwards. They’d wanted a metal connector to prevent dislocation. Spencer knew this could mean another scar, so he said no, because you might’ve said no had you been awake, and they should’ve asked you anyways. 

When you did wake up, you were vehemently against it. Which is fine, you can heal without it, but it’s scarier to do it unaided. Your jaw could dislocate if you do something wrong, which is not only horrifically painful, but a painfully horrific injury to have. You talk quietly. You take small mouthfuls of soft foods. 

Spencer looks at you now, tearstained, back arched like a kicked dog, and doesn’t know what to do. He wishes he were the one who got injured instead. 

He takes the hospital bed controls into his hand and presses the button to make the top of your mattress elevate. Tomorrow, they’ll send you home, and Spencer will have to construct a nest of pillows for you to sit in while you recover, but it’ll be worth it. Things won’t feel as intimidating when you’re in your own bed. 

“Lean back, beautiful,” he says. 

Your smile is a straight line with eyes lit up. “What for?” you ask. 

“Comfier. Less stress on your head.” You lean back. “Oh,” he adds, “and so I can get a better view of you.” 

Your eyes get impossibly brighter. “What do you think?” you murmur. Your voice sounds scratched to death from crying, tight from holding your mouth a certain way, but pleased anyways. It’s just as pretty as it always is to him. 

“You’re the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, reaching out to cradle your waist, his hand moving up and down the side of you tenderly. 

You have a bruise from under your left eye and bleeding down your neck, and you haven’t slept right for a few days, but you’re undeniably beautiful in Spencer’s eyes. 

You’ve been the most beautiful girl in the world literally from the day you met onward, with as much to do with your heart as your lovely face. He should tell you that, but he doesn’t. 

“Can I have water now?” you ask, covering his hand with yours. 

His confidence wobbles. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Sorry.” He grabs your drink, water spilling down the side to wet his hand. 

“Please don’t make me laugh.” 

“I’m not trying to,” he says pathetically. 

He holds the cup of water to your face and you guide the straw between your lips. Spencer’s sure he’s been in love with you forever, and it’s all but cemented now. 

[balrogballs]

I'm still sad about this heartwarming and mildly amusing little section where feral adolescent Aragorn brings some joy to Maedhros in his unhinged little way, which I had to cut out of Cast in Stone for structural reasons, especially as I had gone to the trouble of illustrating it!

But I realised it reads perfectly fine standalone, so you guys can have my crumb of Maedhros-joy instead. No context required: Maedhros and Maglor are temporarily staying in the Shire during the late Third Age, Maedhros had a horrible night of traumatic dreams and was being maudlin — until young Aragorn, aka Elros II and the bane of his life, turns up like a bad penny, as he often does. Enjoy!

---

"You look unhappy," said Estel, sitting down before Maedhros, legs crossed. "Does your hand hurt? Surely it can't be as bad as when it got chopped off, can it?"

"No, but leave me be, Estel, I have —"

"All right, but let me ask just one question. I promise, then I'll go away. I just remembered something from my lessons, and every time I ask Ada he looks up at the sky and asks the Valar where he went wrong in raising me," Estel moved closer, looking around for eavesdroppers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I would like to know."

Maedhros frowned, swallowed the lump in his throat and dragged in a breath. "What?"

"Fingon rescued you on one of those enormous eagles, didn't he? On that mountain with Morgoth and all of that. It was one of those, right? Manwë's Eagles."

"Yes. He did. I do not wish to answer any further questions on the matter, clear off."

"And it was quite a long journey, wasn't it?"

Maedhros grunted.

"I've always had a question about it… and again, you don't have to tell me if it's too traumatising," Estel's eyes shone, as though he were about to hear a state secret. "And I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Spit it out, boy, or leave me now. I am in the mood for neither company nor memory."

"Did it… you know…?"

"If you're trying to ask me if losing the hand hurt, yes it did," Maedhros snapped. "Now leave me alone, I've had enough reminiscing for a damned century. Get off home, now!"

"Oh, shut up, I wasn't asking about your stupid hand, I don't understand why you think everyone sits around thinking about your hand," Estel scowled, pursuing his lips, before deciding his quest for scientific knowledge was more important than whatever had crawled up Maedhros' arsehole and died. He widened his eyes conspiratorily, looked around again. "My question has nothing to do with that! I just wanted to know, did the eagle… you know?"

"Estel, I am not going to repeat this, get out of my sight right this —"

"Did it take a shit?"

"Did… what?"

"Did it take a shit?" Estel flushed as he said the word, Elrond's parental touch finally taking hold, though in a predictably useless manner. "And if it did, how big was it? As in, was it normal bird crap, or was it, you know — like a bucketload of it?"

Maedhros blinked. Estel held his hands out to demonstrate.

"I've always wanted to know that about them, you know," the boy continued, stroking his chin like a philosopher. "Manwe's eagles, that is. Surely if they're big enough to carry two people, one being a towering beast like you, their droppings must be massive."

"What…?" Maedhros couldn't formulate words, a state of being Estel clearly had no familiarity with. "Their… what?"

"And yes, I know they're divine, all of that, but surely they can't be toilet trained, can they? I just don't see Manwë having enough time to toilet train an eagle, you know. Could you imagine just… going about your day, and having this massive tub of birdshite fall on your head? Oh, it could drown a person, I'm sure of it!" Estel grinned, as if said occurrence would be the best day of his life, had it happened to him. "So, did it? And if it did, did you see if it went on someone?"

Maedhros sat there blinking at the boy in complete silence before rising quietly, taking the now-extremely-familiar ear, and slowly — like he were a corpse — leading Estel to the village gate. He didn't say a word, only gestured weakly and put up three fingers, a signal the now sulky boy was very used to.

And as Estel, muttering darkly all the while, neared the completion of his first punishment-lap of three around the village green, he heard something that sounded like a donkey in immense pain. It was a sound so tremendous and unexpected that it brought Maglor running from the house, gaping at the source, having not heard such a thing in centuries. It was no donkey, but Maedhros in complete hysterics, sitting on the ground exactly where he was when he beckoned Estel to run, sobbing with laughter, actual tears pouring down his face, which itself was screwed up and flushed so pink he looked like he'd been badly sunburned. He was trying to explain the situation to Maglor (who had been glaring at Estel as if he had personally killed his brother, and now looked upon him like he was Iluvatar himself) but Maedhros was howling too hard to even stand, let alone form coherent words.

Estel pretended not to notice, and started on his second lap. Though objectively speaking, the laugh itself sounded like something between a foghorn, a pig and whatever noise he imagined Ungoliant would make — there was something rather lovely about it that brought an inexplicable little smile to his face.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Late Manchester Nights

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x pregnant!wife!reader

Word count: close to 700

Warnings: reader having to piss every 2 mins, simon being cute n fluffy, pregnancy?

Summary: The best nights are the ones spent at home.

Late Manchester evenings spent at home were Simon’s favourites. Yours too. You both loved sitting at home, locking out the world, just the two of you. 

And it was about to get a whole lot better. 

Stroking a hand over your very swollen belly, you came back to the couch, after your third bathroom break of the evening. You curl into Simon again, sighing as you both continue watching the show you had put on. He strokes your hair as you two watch the show. You feel so comfortable and safe being wrapped up in his arms, especially since you’re in your third trimester and need the support. Simon’s touch always calms you down, his scent always reassuring.

“He kickin’? I feel something,” Simon breaks the silence between you two. 

“He’s always kicking,” you take his hand and place it on your belly. 

“Lil bugger’s strong, ain’t he?” he chuckles softly. “Only a month to go, lovie.”

“5 weeks, technically. And he’s strong like his daddy, just as annoying too,” you giggle. 

“I don’t know how I would’ve survived without you in my life. I don’t want to know what would’ve happened to me. I don’t wanna think about it,” he presses his lips to your forehead.

“Well, for starters, you’d probably never have a home cooked meal,” you tease.

“That’s true. I’ve always been hopeless in the kitchen. No one else could’ve ever taught me. You’ve really made a positive difference in my life. You gave me all the love I needed and more. You made me strong and taught me how to really love someone. Thank you, lovie, I don’t know how else to thank you for everything you’ve done. And I want you to know, I won’t stop ‘til I can make you just as happy as you make me.”

“You already make me so happy,” you lean against him, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re the best.”

He hugs you tightly, enjoying the closeness and the way he can feel your belly against his. He kisses you softly and brushes your hair out of your face. 

“I have to pee again.”

He groans and lets you get up, his arms falling by his sides. “I don’t get it. How many pints of piss could be in that lil body of yours, lovie? Y’can’t just have one pee every once in a while?”

You giggle at him as you waddle to the washroom. He laughs at you, shouting the word ‘penguin’ at you. 

When you come back, he’s still chuckling. You slap his shoulder as you sit down again, sighing. 

“You get more beautiful every day,” Simon whispers. 

“Really?” you look up. 

"You don't even realise your beauty. Every day I look at you, all I see is perfection. You're getting bigger and bigger with our baby but you don't look anything like a fat slob. Y'still as beautiful as the day I met you, if not more. And as you grow more beautiful, so does my love for you,” he mumbles, stroking your cheek. 

“You’re gonna make me blush,” you tease. “You're the best wife any man could ever ask for. I get to wake up next to my gorgeous, pregnant wife every morning, how does that not inspire happiness in me? I get to go home every night next to the light in my world and I don't dread seein' you. We had some rough patches at the beginning but we made it through, and now we get to spend the rest of our lives together,” he nudges your nose with his. “Perfection.”

“You’re too good to me,” you smile, leaning into him. “You know I couldn’t have found anyone better than you? And before you go on about that ‘I’m traumatised’ bullshit, just know that your whole past and everything you’ve been through is why I love you. It makes you stronger every day and I get to be the lucky person sitting by your side watching you become the best version of yourself. You are the best for me, Si.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. 

“Hey Si?”

“Don’t say it, lovie.”

“I have to pee again.”

[chiipay]

Cuddling with Kaiser🙏🙏

------ CHICHI-

It's bright. A loud crowd chimed in his way as he walked away from the field.

” Sir! What are your thoughts on getting blocked during the half set? What d-”

everything is confusing.

Voices are filling his head as he shrugges the reporters off his shoulder.

So loud....

His thoughts were crumbling down as he walked out. His play was shit. His teammates are shit. His goals were shit. He didn't even let it all out during the game.

Everything is shit.

He arrived home soon enough after a shitty day he thinks. All his thoughts are corrupted one by one. His head is all fuzzy and his body is sore for the match earlier. He couldn't think straight.

Walking in his own place, throwing his duffle bag somewhere far from him so he wouldn't even try to think of choking himself with the straps-

Just kill me already...

He looked at you behind the kitchen counter busying yourself eating grapes while your other hand was doing some work. You are sitting here in his place without a care in his only place he called ’home’ after he left his shitty dad.

”...oh hey. ” you didn't care. You probably have the best of your life while he rots in hell. You won't understand what he feels.

Kaiser narrowed his gaze on you before pulling your hands off your work.

”....i want to talk to you.” his voice cracked a bit making you raise your brows at him.

”... alright. We can work this out. Bedroom?"

”...yeah.”

The moment you both went to his bedroom, Kaiser crashed into you. You let out a small *OOFT-!* before settling down with him.

His body was on top of yours while you're in an uncomfortable position he was already finding comfort in your warmth. You tried to move into a more comfortable position but Kaiser wouldn't budge to move even for an inch.

You intertwined your hand in his hair locks as trying to soothe him without him trying to choke you if you did a bad move. Well it only happened one time without him telling you the reason but you just thought because you were upsetting him. You were pretty much traumatised from that.

Kaiser soundly sleeps on top of you while you soothe him in humming sounds. He kept a very tight grip on you making it difficult to get up and leave.

Tomorrow morning you end up with a cramped body while Kaiser woke up with the shiniest face.

You won't understand him even if he tells you.

[mochiepie]

𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✿

𝑯𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 + 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 ✿

✿=︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶=✿

(𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 :- 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤. 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲. 𝐔𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤.)

Husband satoru who can't keep his mouth shut whenever he sees you wearing a tight top, blouse, dress. His eyes are fixated on your titties.

Husband Satoru who will insist on and on to have babies as soon as possible right after getting married. He can't stand your tits being empty at all. The urgency of milk is reaching the space now.

Husband satoru who wouldn't take your NO as a no, and would keep fucking you when you're asleep or might end up mixing an aphrodisiac in your drink/food for few weeks to keep railing you. He isn't guilty about it. You're his woman, his to breed. "Princess, see how lucky you are to have my seeds in your cute little womb. You whore around in my house yeah wearing slutty dresses to show me your empty huge tits yeah? I'll fill your tits just see princess. Fu-fuck" he would be talking dirty and filthy to you while you're completely unconscious due to the drug or if you're in sleep. Cuz obviously you aren't letting him cum inside you if you were concious, so... That's how it is, to make his work done. He can go to the most downgrade lengths too.

Husband satoru who would stack up pregnancy kits just for you and would take the test on you. Yeah you're peeing infront of him. He is a nasty ass. He won't even mind to lick some droplets of your pee which trickles down your thigh. " Even your piss is fukin sweet princess "

Husband satoru when he finds out you're finally Pregnant (after testing 18 Pregnancy kits on you just to confirm it) his ass is flying. Finally a mini satoru coming? Yeah. Hell yeah. Now you're completely underground. He is your shadow, even you aren't pooping without him coming in just to check if you're pooping, if the poop is healthy. His mind thinks that what if you poop and the something happens to the baby. He won't admit his NONSENSE thoughts. Obviously he can't let his prestige disintegrate infront of you ATLEAST! he wants utmost respect and obedience from you. He'll directly spread the pregnancy news to his family and obviously to his students and friends, boasting about how quickly in one go he got you knocked up. His students even get disgusted. Any topic they are talking about and satoru ends up including you in the talk somehow.

Husband satoru who watches every Pregnancy videos on YouTube, or any sites even the delivery videos. His brain was traumatised. Mf didn't even know how women actually gives birth. When he heard those screams of women giving birth in the videos. Yeah he is done. Look, he fukin wants your milk in those huge tits of yours. Yea he also wants the baby for sure. But now.. now the guilt is coming in. Now he understood why you said no. But will he admit and show it? HELL NAH! Satoru even went to the hospital to the gynaecologist just to confirm if woman actually gives birth in that way, to discuss the whole procedure A to Z.

Husband satoru who sees you getting more rounder, tits swelling with milk, that swollen baby bump. How could he resist.. right? He has so much knowledge about the pregnancy and all stuff.. that he aligns his cock in your pussy so softly and gently.. "just the tip baby- nngh! Princess, stop squeezing" and yeah he actually resists his urge and only inserts his tip. Why? Cuz his guilt of baby trapping you hasn't faded yet. He'll wait till you give birth.

Husband satoru who will wait till your tits are filled with milk, and as soon as he sees milk, he is latching on it. He has been sucking your tits almost every hour, everyday, for months. Even after you gave birth, your child gets another tit and another tit is only reserved for him. That's it. This is what he was waiting for afterall. Milk. Satoru completely gave up on sweets. Despite having a sweet tooth he wasn't interested in eating those sweets. His only sweet, was you, was your milk. Oh also your pussy juices. " You want daddy to touch your princess parts mmhm? Begg then..keep begging while i empty your tits yeah? So ... Fukin huge. My little cow "

Husband satoru who thinks he won't get you preggy again. But when he realised that your milk won't stay forever. Eventually you'll end up getting your tits empty? Oh ... Well.. now he is rethinking. But when you ask him.. " can we have another baby? " With that cute pout of yours! You think his dick would resist? Absolutely not. His guilt instantly fades away, he forgets everything. His mind is fixated on breeding you again. And again. And again. It has never been a single day when he would not stop groping your tits, sucking, biting, digging his nails on the flesh, flicking and squeezing, pinching your nipples brutally untill you cry and begg him to stop. The way your milk squirts out and paints his body white. Well now he ain't stopping doin it, keep begging and crying. He is gonna do it untill you faint.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Here’s a little Maddie and Tommy drabble 🩶

**********

Tommy was involved in a nasty helicopter crash back in his army days. Broke his leg in 3 places, 4 ribs, and enough bruises to fill an entire medical text book. He spent almost two months in hospital recovering, dealing with more pain he’d never thought humanly possible.

Yet he’d gladly take that pain again over the unbearable pain of the last 2 months after having his heart ripped from his chest.

Correction: from ripping his own heart from his chest.

Because that’s what he did. He ripped his own heart out as an act of self preservation. It felt like the correct choice for all of about 5 minutes.

He stopped the elevator from closing, ready to step back out towards Evan’s apartment. But he stopped. He let the doors close and let the elevator go down.

He turned off the engine after firing up his truck, ready to get back out and go back inside the building.

But he stopped.

He reached home and closed the door behind him then opened it again ready to get back in his truck and drive back to Evan’s.

But he stopped.

Each time that terrified part of his soul reminding him that he and Evan couldn’t be—he’d end up hurt in the long run.

Evan was wonderful. He was kind and thoughtful, sunnier than anybody Tommy had ever met.. but he wore rose tinted glasses when it came to Tommy; didn’t know the real him inside. The dark and traumatised parts of himself that he hadn’t shared, would be too much for someone like Evan to love.

He had to keep reminding himself of that. Reminded himself that Evan deserved better; deserved happiness and light and good, and Tommy? He wasn’t that. He’d never be that.

But it wasn’t easy. Not by a long shot. Despite Tommy’s effort , Evan had managed to burrow his way inside of his heart and settled in his warmth.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d picked up his phone, started worrying a message to him, then deleted it and put his phone back down.

He’d taken to keeping himself distracted. Every time he felt the urge to reach out he’d clean something. Never had his house ever looked so bright and shiny. Eventually he ran out of jobs to do at home and took his need for distraction to work.

He was fine when on the job; controlling his bird or putting out fires when doing ground work was an easy distraction. But the downtime was where Evan’s face would creep into his consciousness.

Their probie was left without much do to because Tommy had taken over the jobs usually reserved the person at the bottom of the ladder.

The helicopters were looking brand new, you could eat food directly from the kitchen floor—hell even the bathrooms hadn’t looked so clean since they’d had them renovated 6 years before.

Eventually he ran out of places to clean and resorted to cleaning the tools of the job. Every hose, every crow bar, even the mechanical tools in the maintenance hangar were getting 5 star treatment.

*

Tommy was in the maintenance hangar working on cleaning a set of wrenches. Every groove got its own special treatment, every scratch getting buffed out. The team had learnt quickly after the break up to leave him be unless it was work related.

“Tommy?” A soft voice came from behind him.

“Lucy, I told you I’m fi-“ he turned to face her only to be surprised to not be looking at Lucy.

“Maddie?” His heart detached itself from his chest wall and lodged itself in his throat. Evan’s sister wouldn’t be here unless..

“Is.. he.. is he okay?” He’d never heard his own voice so scared and meek.

Maddies eyes widened for a moment before she spoke. “Oh. No, no. I.. he’s okay. I mean, he’s not okay, not at all.”

Tommy breathed out a sigh of relief and his shoulders sagged. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. For a moment he thought she was about to tell him.. No, he couldn’t think about that.

“I’m sorry I probably should have let you know I was coming. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. Why are you here?”

“Can we go some place to talk?” She asked.

She was looking at him not like she wanted to kill him. Which was honestly throwing him off. He broke her brother’s heart—if he were in her position he’d want to tear him in half.

“I’m not here to fight or yell—really I just want to talk.” She reassured him.

Tommy gestured for her to follow him and he led her to the Harbor kitchen upstairs. It wasn’t as fancy as the one at the 118 but it served its purpose.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee?”

“Sure. Thanks.” She answered and he pour them both a mug from the pot and they took a seat at the dining table.

“How.. how is he?” Tommy asked tentatively.

“Baking.” She said. Tommy raised his brows.

“Baking?” He knew even loved to cook, but he couldn’t remember any point in their six months together him ever baking anything.

“Yeah. I’m running out of space in my pantry for all the loaves he keeps bringing us.” She gave a small laugh.

Seems Evan was trying to distract himself just like Tommy was.

Silence fell upon them for a while until Maddie broke it.

“Did my brother ever tell you about what happened after I had Jee?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think he did.” Tommy was curious as to where Maddie was going with his.

She took a deep breath before speaking. “I didn’t know it at the time but I had Postpartum Thyroidosis. Think post postpartum depression but even worse. I was barely eating, hardly slept, and between Howie’s shifts and mine at the call centre, it became a struggle I didn’t think I’d ever get through. Do you remember the ransomware attack in the city?”

“Yeah. I spent almost a week living here.”

Maddie nodded. “Howie, too. He had to stay at the station house while I was at home with a new baby and no power. I’d quit my job in an attempt to take some of the pressure off but those 5 days alone..“ She blew out a breath. “I was bathing Jee and I was so sleep deprived that I fell asleep. It was only for a moment but.. but she slipped under the water. “

Tommy’s heart clenched at the look on her face as she recalled the memory.

“She was fine, thank god—I had her checked out. But it scared me so much and in the end was the straw that broke the camels back. So, after the hospital discharged her, I packed her things and dropped her off to Bobby at the station. Then I drove up the coast, found a beach and I walked into the ocean.”

Tommy was entirely at a loss for words. He wanted to say something but what do you say to that? Evan hadn’t said a word about it to him, and he understood why—it wasn’t his business to know.

But he remembered something Evan had said once about people he cared about leaving him. How Maddie had left him more than once. Never had Tommy thought this was what he meant.

“I had convinced myself that everyone would be better off without me. Evan, Chimney, Jee.. they’d hurt at first but they’d move on and live great lives.” She took another deep breath. “Thank god I had a moment of hesitation and somehow I found the strength to get back out. But I wasn’t in any state to go back. Eventually I checked myself into a facility in Boston to get help. That’s where I found out I had PPT. I spent the next 6 months in hard core therapy, starting with in patient then eventually moving to outpatient.” She stopped and took a sip of her coffee.

“I’m sorry that you went through that, Maddie. Really.”

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile.

“But.. I have to ask. Why are you telling me this?”

She put her mug back down on the table. “I spent that entire 6 months convincing myself that Howie hated me for leaving him; for abandoning our daughter. Not to mention the fact that I’d left Evan again. And then one day, a friend I’d met in therapy, had a medical emergency and suddenly I’m looking at Howie as one of the paramedics that showed up. Turns out he’d spent the whole 6 months, and all of his savings, driving across the country with Jee looking for me. See, as much as I hated myself and thought that I wasn’t worth love and care—Howie didn’t. He left his job, his life to find me; to be there for me.”

Tommy began to realise the point that Maddie was making and why she was telling him what happened to her.

“Evan didn’t really say all that much about what happened that night between the two of you, but he did say that you thought you’d get hurt again and ran away.”

Tommy nodded.

“Tommy, Evan and I didn’t exactly grow up with loving and adoring parents to guide us; mostly they were in the periphery of our lives. I ended up married to an abusive man, and Evan.. he ended up with abandonment issue the size of Mars. All he wants, all he’s ever wanted was for someone to love him enough to stay. I was so caught up in what I was feeling that I left him; left everyone and I can’t take that back. The hurt I caused him and Howie and Jee..”

“But that’s different, you were sick—that wasn’t your fault.”

“The PPT wasn’t but the way I handled it was. What I’m saying Tommy, is don’t let my mistake be yours. I ran way when I should have stayed and fought, even when I was sacred.”

Tommy sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

“I just.. Evan is.. I’ve never met anybody like him. I’ve never felt the way I feel about him for anybody before, and he’s so new to dating a guy and what happens when-“

“When? You know for sure he’d leave you?”

“Well, no but-“

“You know it took almost a year for Howie and I to actually get together? I was so scared after my ex that I convinced myself that Howie and I wouldn’t work; that id just get hurt again.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“He showed me that I could trust him. More importantly I let him show me. It wasn’t easy, but I eventually got my head out of my ass and realised he wasn’t Doug. He was this wonderful man, who knew what I’d been through; saw the darkest parts of me and still wanted to love me. And if I wanted to be happy I’d have to put my trust in him, even though it still scared me.”

Maddie was right. And he’d known already deep down that he had to put himself out there if he wanted some kind of happiness. But the thought of losing himself to Evan and it not working out? He meant what he’d said to Evan about not being able to stand that happening.

She put her hand gently on his forearm. “My brother loves you. Truly loves you. It’s not some infatuation—believe me I’ve seen what that looks like on him. I’ve never seen him more settled and more himself than since he’s been with you. Does he get ahead of himself sometimes when he’s excited about something? Yeah. And sometimes he needs someone to pull him down to earth. But despite all he’s been through he still puts himself out there; puts his heart out there. And he’s put his heart in you.”

“It terrifies me.” He said. “I mean, being with him.”

“Why?”

“Because I love him too. So much that I don’t know what to do with.” He admitted.

“I feel the same way about Howie. Sometimes I find myself thinking what if I hadn’t taken that leap with him? Then I wouldn’t be married to my soulmate and more importantly we wouldn’t have our beautiful daughter. It’s hard to think good things can happen to you when all you’ve known is trauma, but in reality good things can happen to you. You just have to willing to risk it sometimes. I know I’m biased, but Evan is worth the risk. And he deserves someone who’s willing to take it.”

Evan was worth the risk. He always had been. But Tommy’s fear had taken control. He knew it wasn’t fair on either of them but how could he get out from under it?

“I want to, Maddie, I do. I just don’t know how to.”

“Well I walked into the station and kissed Howie, but something tells me they might not be your style.” She laughed and Tommy gave a small one.

“Okay, let me ask as simple question: Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied without even having to think about it.

“And you want a happy future with him?”

“More than anything.”

“Then go get it.” She said plainly. “I can’t guarantee a long beautiful life with my brother, but I can guarantee that neither of you will get to have it if you don’t try at all. So-“ she stood up from her seat. “Finish your shift, then go to him.”

“What if he doesn’t want that?”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? Of course he wants that! He wouldn’t have sold out half the county of baking supplies other wise.” She stepped forward and took his hand. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to my brother. Go and be happy together.”

His resolve weakened and a couple of tears escaped his eyes. He wiped them away and stood up. “Thank you, Maddie.”

“I’m just doing what any big sister would do.”

For two months Tommy had dreaded the end to every shift knowing he’d have to go home to an empty, Evan-less house. And now for the first time in 8 weeks he couldn’t wait for his shift for end.

So he could go to Evan.

[212-apricity]

theodore nott headcanons part two!!

is it headcannons or headcanons?? anyways i hope you guys like this one, ideas for a new fic are in plan...

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

patriotically italian, esp now that its the euros this man is 10000% against anything english and his friends are still mad at him for last euros (same)

loves to go shopping with you, he’ll hold stuff for you, he’ll buy stuff for you, he’ll ask people questions for you, literally anything

dog person, hates cats

imagine doing that one trend with theo where your lipstick is smudged and you tilt the phone to him and he’s got lipstick kisses allll over

keeps a polaroid of you two in his phone case

has to hold hands all the time

definitely sappy drunk, most times he’ll talk about your future wedding and sometimes he wont recognise that it’s you and won’t let you touch him thinking it’s some random girl

loves watching you get ready

will take your makeup off for you after a long day/night

doesn’t text basically anyone apart from his friendship group and you, and is always that one person in group chats that never texts back to anything

uses "👍" like a dad

buys things for you if you mention them once e.g. if you say one day that you love blueberries, he'll show up with five boxes of them the next day

has all his family recipes in a box and doesn’t let anyone not even you see them, your favourite: his grandads tiramisu 

sees mattheo breaking spaghetti, proceeds to try and break his legs

always has ink on his hands

you guys are not like those couples at theme parks who are basically doing it in a “family friendly” environment, you hold hands and kiss sometimes but nothing more

old moneyyy

knows how to ride horses for some reason

walked in your and pansys dorm once without knocking when you two were doing the jojo siwa karma dance, was traumatised, left silently, never spoke of it again and never came into the dorm without knocking 

loves photography, hes always taking candid photos of you and random things he sees

the majority of his camera roll is you, old photos of his mother that hes been trying to recover from the Nott achives, and just random things he sees that he finds nice, from a painting in a museum to shattered glass in the sunlight on the street

loves taking in italian with lorenzo when he knows you don’t understand things, loves to see you get frustrated

if you speak a language other than english with your parents and you’re on the phone with them and he hears the one or two words he knows, he’ll get all happy and smiley and keep repeating that word/phrase, same with you when theo speaks italian (if youre not already an italian speaker)

super tall, touches the border of doorways when he walks by them, is called slender man on a daily basis as a result

resting bitch face

lorelai gilmore type comebacks 

prideful, knows the status his family holds

fuck around and find out kind of guy

he’s got that built in dad feature of being able to fix absolutely anything from a shelf to the stove

princess treatment both ways

makes sure to wear a freshly washed shirt for a few hours so when you wear it, they smell like him

serves you first in the great hall

loves coming home with you and your family on holidays

does that thing of keeping a flower from a bouquet he gives you so he knows when to get you more

scorpio

if you are an air sign: that one lyric from chemtrails over the country club, "youre in the wind, im in the water" is so you two bc hes a water sign

kendrick supporter

academically smart, womanly stupid

would ask you to teach him how to make daisy chains and get frustrated when all his would break

he and blaise are the appointed spider catchers for you, mattheo, lorenzo, pansy and draco

cursive handwriting

favourite colour is deep blue

[lazerswordweilder]

There’s a prompt I’ve heard from at least two seperate people, Danny gets adopted by the Waynes as a meta and the power suppression cuff hurts.

Okay, I need to sleep so let’s do this fast. No matter what anyone at Wayne Manor did, all Danny would do for the first day would be trying to get the cuff off, no one understood why, by the second day they got worried, a civilian shouldn’t go this long without food.

By the third day Danny realises he’s going to have a serious problem if he doesn’t act soon, he gets Bruces attention (this is the first ‘sane’ thing he’s done since he arrived so Bruce agrees to talk happily). Bruce doesn’t expect Danny to make him swear that nothing is recording this, that no one will hear what Danny says here, Bruce is concerned but not normal enough to see too much of an issue in this, so he agrees. Danny says this ‘I’m not human. I’m pretending to be a meta because the genocide of my entire species is legal and I’m too weak to fight the hunters right now.’ that alone was enough for Bruce to freak out, Danny really didn’t have to keep talking ‘My powers don’t work anywhere near the way a metas would, I don’t know why the cuff is working but you need to get it off. The powers are a part of me, they’re connected to my core, and the cuffs are hurting my core. I’ll die for good if you keep this on, it’s luck I’ve survived this long with the cuff on.’ Bruce decided to just unlock the cuff at this point, and immediately realised Danny was right.

For the first time that feral panic in his eyes was gone, he floated into the air, legs morphing into a tail, and immediately looks so much more comfortable than he had- again since Bruce had met him. He looked healthier and he seemed to- no, he was glowing. He took a deep breath in and the air he breathed out was icy and cold, Bruce had been told Dannt seemed to have some ice powers. The powers were obviously part of him.

‘First things first, legal genocide of your entire species? Was that a lie to get me to take the cuff off?’ Bruce asked hopefully, Danny actually laughed, revealing fangs

‘I wish- I’d love that to be true.’ Danny said

For just a slip second something else flashed across Dannys face, pain and sadness, like a king carrying his kingdom, like a soldier carrying his fallen armies legacy.

‘Could you stop it?’ Danny asked, Bruce nodded quickly

‘I will stop it.’ Bruce promised, Danny relaxed, he sighed and he looked just a little lighter

‘They’re safe.’ he whispered, happiness and relief obvious on his face ‘My friad, my haunt, my kingdom.’ Danny muttered

‘Fraid? Haunt? Kingdom?’ Bruce asked

‘Oh, just our species terminology, the closest translations would be family and territory.’ Danny said

‘What about kingdom?’ Bruce asked

‘What? No I meant the normal definition for that, I became king after the whole Pariah incident last year.’ Danny said it casually, in a tone Bruce knew well, the classic: this is not normal and I’m deeply traumatised about it, let’s pretend it’s no big deal.

[demonpiratehuntress]

clowns

taglist - @kabloswrld

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

summary - clowns are terrifying, and your first encounter with one leaves you traumatised. lucky for you, you have a big strong swordsman as a boyfriend.

warnings - CLOWNS (yes they should ALWAYS be a warning and yes Buggy scares me), you and Zoro are/were both pirate hunters

a/n - i count myself lucky i don't have circuses where i live, because if i ever see a clown i will run the other way

Not only did you not expect to join a pirate crew, but you far from thought your first encounter as a "crew" would be facing your worst nightmare.

The minute you saw the bright red nose and funny make-up, you stiffened. Your eyes went wide and you became unresponsive, like you couldn't hear them talking or feel Zoro's subtle protective touches. You were too focused on the clown in front of you, terrified to your core.

"What's wrong with her?" Buggy noticed your stare, and waved his hand in front of your face. "Can she hear me?"

Zoro growled and put himself between you and the clown pirate, "Eyes on me, Binky." He knew that wasn't the clown's name, but Luffy's mistake would serve him well in getting Buggy's attention off you.

Sure enough, the clown scowled and looked at him, "Buggy! It's not that hard to remember!"

You were relieved that the clown was no longer focusing on you, but just the sight of him was rattling you to your core. While he was distracted, you took it as your opportunity to turn and run.

Now let it be said that you do not run easily from anything. You and Zoro were pirate hunters, or had been until you'd been roped into this, and you had faced some nasty, dangerous threats. You were hardened, and almost nothing shook you.

Except clowns.

Funny how the one thing you steered clear of found you first the moment you aligned yourself with others.

Before you could get far, some of his circus freaks grabbed you and brought you back. The clown was still talking about himself, but chuckled when his goons brought you back into the tent.

"What's wrong, pirate hunter?" He sneered. "Scared?"

"Hey!" Luffy beat Zoro this time, "Leave her alone."

And things went downhill from there.

You were, for some reason, separated from the group. So was Luffy, but that's because Buggy was interrogating him. Nami and Zoro had been escorted somewhere else, leaving you on your own in another side room, panicking and growing more and more nauseous. To make matters worse, Luffy started screaming from wherever he was.

A while later, the clown walked into your room.

Your eyes went wide, and you struggled against the rope holding you to the wooden beam.

"I'm surprised," he spoke, "You have a reputation that made even some of my men nervous. And yet...you can't even look me in the eye." He stopped right in front of you, "Why's that?"

You tried your best to look away, turning your head sideways and finding something else to focus on. You couldn't speak, and you were trembling. Nothing had ever shaken you like this, ever. But clowns for some reason...you couldn't handle them.

"Is it the nose?" He asked mockingly, although he sounded a bit annoyed at the mention of his large appendage again. He forced you to look at him, gripping your chin in his gloved hands. "Hmm?"

"Leave me alone," you managed to get out through gritted teeth.

"Your captain isn't being very cooperative," he ignored your request, "So I have a lot of time to spend here with you."

"Why me?" You tried to glare, but you knew you looked scared. Because you were.

"Fear is a good motivator for telling the truth," he finally let go of your chin, walking around you and sizing you up. "Your friends will be tough to convince, but you...you don't like clowns, right? I'll leave you alone if you tell me where the map is."

"Do your worst," you breathed out, a little shakily, but you were determined not to cave. Not for this idiot.

He growled, and in an instant he was in front of you again, holding a knife to your throat while putting his frightening face right up in yours, "Tell me where it is!"

The sound you let out was something between a squeak and a yelp, fear once again overcoming your body at the clown's proximity. It wasn't so much the knife pressed against your jugular, it was the fact that your worst fear was inches away from you. You clenched your fists, trying to control your shaking, but it didn't work. And he was amused by your terror.

"I'm going to check on your captain," he stepped back, "If he doesn't give me an answer, I'm coming right back here and I promise I'll leave a scar." Then he left, and you could breathe again.

But that's when the tears came.

You didn't really sob, you just stayed there crying silently. Your body trembled, mind numb with fear and shock. His face was burned into your mind, and shutting your eyes only made your panic worse.

That's how Zoro found you, tied up and shaking with glassy eyes.

"What did he do to you?" The swordsman asked when he cut you loose, grabbing and squeezing your arms gently. "(Name), what did he do?"

You just shook your head, unable to speak, and sought his comfort by burying your face in his neck and crying even more. The more you shook, the angrier he got. But he held you for as long as you needed, knowing Nami would be okay with finding Luffy on her own. You were Zoro's priority.

You finally let go a few minutes later, wiping your face, "Let's go help the others."

He nodded, guiding you out the room.

The trauma stuck with you for a few days after the three of you escaped him, evident one night when you woke up sweating and shaking. Zoro was a deep sleeper, but he had a sixth sense reserved just for you, so he was woken up by your outburst.

Zoro wasn't good with words, but he was definitely good at comforting you through actions. He never had to say anything, he just wrapped his strong arms around you and you were slowly soothed. You just had to lean against his chest, enveloped in his arms, and you would slowly calm down. His gentle kisses atop your head also helped, his affection never failing to get your mind off whatever was worrying you.

In Syrup Village, you spotted a poster of the clown pirate and started hyperventilating. Zoro immediately turned you away from it and cupped your cheeks in his hands, making you look at him.

"Hey, focus on me," he told you, "Just me. I'm here. You're fine." He used a gentle, soft tone, one reserved just for you.

You tried to breathe, eyes locked on his face, concentrating on his warm brown ones that held so much concern for you. The eyes that always comforted you with just a look. Slowly your breathing evened out, and Zoro embraced you, this time not caring that you were in public.

"You're okay."

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, "Thanks, Zoro."

He just nodded, giving you one last forehead kiss, "If we ever see him again, I'm going to cut him up and throw him in the ocean."

You managed a weak smile, grateful to have such a protective boyfriend. His actions always proved how devoted he was, even if they were a little violent. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"You do that."

[vivwritesfics]

Inked Up

Y/N gets a tattoo in honour of her boyfriend, but it also traumatises him

Fluff, crack

Y/N laid on the table as the tattoo artist pressed the needle to the skin of her hip. She groaned as the tattoo artist went over the B on her tattoo one more time. It hurt, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Her tattoo artist wiped away the excess ink and kept going, starting on the second word of the tattoo. It wasn't a very big tattoo, just two words, three letters long, each.

"This is an F1 tattoo, right?" The artist asked as she finished up. "My partner loves F1 and pointed it out while I was making the template last night."

Y/N let out a laugh. "Yeah. I've been obsessed with F1 for years and my partner actually drives for one of the teams," she answered, the tattoo artist placing the film over her tattoo.

Y/N went to the bathroom to look in the mirror before she paid. It was only a small tattoo, but it was perfect. Her fingertips touched it lightly, not daring to properly press. Not until it had started to heal.

She paid up and was on her way, heading back to the apartment she shared with her husband. He wasn't there at the moment, currently on his way back from Italy. Y/N expected him home within the next few hours.

She pottered around the apartment, picking things up and making herself some food. After an hour Y/N took the film from her tattoo and cleaned it, gently patting off the excess water. Still, she couldn't believe it. She had actually gotten a tattoo.

Suddenly the front door opened. Y/N lifted her sweatpants up, covering the tattoo as she ran to the front door to greet her husband. "Charles!" She cried as she jumped into his arms.

"Hello, Chéri," he said as he kissed her.

As soon as Charles put her down, Y/N pulled him further into the apartment. "I got you a surprise while you were gone, baby," she said, sitting him on the couch.

Charles' eyes went wide as Y/N stood in front of him. She looped her fingers around the waistband of her sweatpants, watching his reaction as she began pulling them down.

Charles didn't even fathom the idea of a tattoo. He thought new underwear or a thong, something along those lines. Definitely not a tattoo.

But then he saw it, two words, six letters. "Box, box?" He read out. But then his eyebrows scrunched together. "Chéri, you didn't."

"I did, Charlie," she said through a grin. "Box, box, just like when-"

"Like when I woke up from my nightmare?"

"Exactly!" She cheered and lifted her sweatpants back up. Suddenly Charles wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him. "You're unbelievable," he said before he kissed her.

He pulled down her sweatpants to get one more look at it. His fingers reached out, going to touch it, but Y/N slapped his hand away. "Not until it's healed!"

"It's hot," Charles mumbled and he wrapped his hands back around her. "I think you should get another."

"Oh really? And what do you think I should get?"