#like he flinches away from physical touch

[gold-onthe-inside]

a pearl

who? spencer reid (post-prison) x fem!reader based on: a pearl by mitski (and also pearl diver also by mitski) written for: @mggslover's event lyrics: “You’re growing tired of me. You love me so hard and I still can’t sleep/Sorry, I can’t take your touch. It’s not that I don’t want you.” word count: 0.9k content warnings: mentions cat adams, reference to addiction/drugs & sobriety

He stared at the flickering flame in the living room, knowing he’s left your sleeping frame upstairs, and rubbed the sobriety chip between his thumb and forefinger, and he remembers the moment he had fallen in love with your smile, a warm saccharine thing that had brightened your whole face when he tried to pull a coin from behind your ear, but it hadn’t worked, only for you to find it in your pockets. He hasn’t made you smile like that in a while. Not in 3 months, 20 days, and 14 hours. Not since Cat Adams had made it her mission to ruin his life, and yours along with him. This year had just been the tip of a long-building iceberg of issues that you kept having to put up with because of him.

And sure, things were okay now. His mom was in a good home in DC, always a call and a drive away. They had gotten his murder conviction overturned. He was supposed to be safe. Then why did he feel this uneasy all the time?

He’s so lost in himself, the firelight reflecting in his soft and worried hazel eyes, that he doesn’t hear you coming down the stairs, doesn’t see the cute donut pyjamas that usually make his heart melt, and physically flinches when you touch his shoulder, the chip in his hand falling to the floor. “Sorry,” you said instantly, “I didn’t mean to… You just weren’t in bed, I wanted to make sure you were—”

“I’m fine,” he said, a little too sharply, and usually, you’re better at controlling your expressions, but it’s 2 in the morning and you’re tired, so the concern is visible on your sleepy face.

“Honey, you don’t seem fine,” you said softly, approaching him like he was a skittish horse.

He let out a breath, bending down to pick up the sobriety token, while you wait and watch him straighten. “Can we not do this right now?” he asked, sounding tired, and he can see your concern deepen, adding another wrinkle to your brow, the corners of your lips turning down. He can see the battle that rages inside you every day, every time he acts like this — do you confront him? Do you put your foot down like you had all those years ago when he was coming to work while in withdrawal? What would it take for you to finally retaliate?

“Okay,” you said, in your gentle but firm way, looking at him evenly. “Two choices. We sit here and talk, or you come back upstairs with me and get some sleep. Either way, I’m not going back up without you.” Your arms come up to cross against your chest in what you think is a firm, decisive position to take, but Spencer’s sorely tempted to smile at you, and then his heart sinks all over again. It must have come up on his face because your arms start to fall and you walked over to pull him to sit next to you on the couch. “Sweetheart, will you please just tell me what’s going on with you?” you asked, and you think your heart might crawl out of your throat when Spencer pulled his hands away from yours.

“It’s nothing,” he said, and you can see his body closing off, all your work to bring him out of his shell, to coax him into the sunlight, vanishing like smoke. “Everything’s, you know, it’s fine. The team’s fine, my mom’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Which means it’s only a matter of time before things aren’t fine again,” you said, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “Right?” You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t felt it too — the panic in the middle of the night when he’s not there, the reminder you have to give yourself that he’s not in prison anymore, that he’s safe.

“I’m so tired,” he told you, his eyes falling to your hands, where you were gripping each other for fear of reaching out to him again. He was tired of waiting to get the phone call saying his mom was gone. Tired of the nightmares. Tired of feeling afraid in a house that was supposed to be his refuge.

“Sweetheart, you can’t rest when your body still thinks it’s on the run,” you told him gently.

“Then how do I get it to stop?” he asked you, a hint of desperation rising into his throat, causing his words come out more broken and shaky than he meant for them to, and it just made his chest ache more.

You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his and cupping his cheek, feeling the light stubble on his jaw. "Stay here," you whispered. "In this moment. You and me. Nothing else."

“In this moment,” he echoed, his voice soft and quiet, barely more than a whisper. “You and me, and nothing else.” A hint of a smile spread across his lips, and you pressed a butterfly kiss to the corner before laying your head on his shoulder while he slid his arms around your waist. You don’t move, just eventually shift so you can both lay on the couch, the fire dying out into embers as he finally fell asleep to the rise and fall of your chest.

[worth-this-and-more]

[TW: sh mentions, violence] [spoilers for legendborn and bloodmarked, read at your own caution ;)]

so i've been rereading and trying to cover up all the legendborn content that happened while i pufff disappeared, and pardon me it is taking more time than i imagined, however i just wanted to start off with one pet peeve of mine

*rant incoming*

this might just be my unorganised thoughts or maybe just common sense, but sometimes you dont fully understand why a character did something; you have to sometimes to come back and read it again once you have that epiphany. it doesn't matter whatever tf they are doing, it sometimes just doesnt make that effect, especially on first read.

when i first read bree lashing out on greer and sar when they touched her hair, i didnt quite understand it. i thought its a cultural thing and moved on. now something about me, im a little fair, by indian standards. not completely clear skin and shit but im on the lighter side. so if im in my village, if im anywhere else wearing something with a bit of skin showing, i automatically get the comments "you're so fair" "what's your skincare" "so lucky" "you'd marry so soon" all that typa shit. and then come the unwanted touches, touching me on any exposed skin. and by any i genuinely mean any exposed skin. that's when i kind of realised why bree was so irritated when they tocuhed her hair, because people sometimes see our nicer features as free estate. and its annoying. and that is when her reaction fully made sense.

when i first read selwyn mesmered bree, i was so angry. i did not want bree to forgive him without him grovelling, ofc, but i also could not understand why he did that. what was his motive?? and why hide it from bree only?? nobody else?? now i've been in my low times since like years, not a big deal. got a lot of scars, some too visible, some not. i dont bother hiding it if im out in public where there's nobody who knows me or nobody who would care enough to ask. but if im with my friends, close people, i hide them all. and its just like valec said, its not to hide something its because of the fear of judgement. and that's when it kind of made sense why selwyn would hide his descent specifically from bree. she has bad experiences with mesmer, no doubt, but even worse with demons. it was a bad call through and through but one that is not unfamiliar. i dont hide my scars for my safety, i hide them because im ashamed.

and when nick killed max and then promptly disappeared into the woods, that was also somehow so out of character in my eyes from him. during grief and in the moments of crushing hopelessness, doesn't everyone want someone?? isnt the obvious reaction supposed to be him coming to bree, and not running away from her?? but that's not what happens yk. i once had a classmate who was not generally the type of person you'd want to be around. he was the type of person who has "trouble" spelt on him in flashing neon red. but after all, we were young, wanted to keep the peace, so i kept the decent communication. he would constantly invade my personal space, unwanted touches, unsolicited comments, it gets annoying. the last straw was when he tried to touch my best friend's schoolbag. i, in a moment of pure rage, threw him against the wall and actually started choking him. when the class managed to get me off of him, he was unconscious. in that moment my bestfriend came to put a hand on my shoulder, i visibly flinched and ran away from there and stayed in the washroom until school was over. this isnt as bad as beheading someone, but the response is familiar. of course he is going to go away rather than come closer; people whose love language is physical touch often have their hate language as isolation. i didnt hurt him purely because he tried to take my bestie's bag, i hurt him because i wanted to. nick didnt kill max purely because he killed his father, he killed him because he wanted to.

there's more of the events where we just kind of make this internal bias that we know what the character is going through and that we would definitely make better decisions, but can you?? do you really think you can or you're just overestimating yourself or underestimating the actual thing going on with the character??

i have made this mistake too, i know. i have taken some time to reflect back though and now i can say that yes i have made harsh judgements too. i am changing that tho because i've got a lottt of time to sit down and think and yeah i guess we all need it time to time.

what im trying to say is, things are not black and white. its a spectrum, there's dark grey light grey. it's a lot. and until and unless you are capable of putting yourself in that type of situation or closer, it's better to not make concrete opinions. shit happens and people do things, real life people are just that, people.

anyways this was a long rant i probably lost my point halfway through but okay whateva

[talispraisekink]

making a long list of post canon headcanons i have for jayce n viktor and i cannot stop thinking about jayce being very touch starved and having difficulty communicating after everything

[breadedsinner]

Going through my Seb tag for reasons and my takeaway is that, while I don't believe the character is asexual (I do headcanon him as demiromantic, so in the gray spectrum), some of ya'll are really weird about the concept in general.

[bi-writes]

cw: protective!ghost, allusions to civilian!reader being (physically) assaulted at work (18+)

"l-lieutenant?"

ghost is nearly startled by the little voice that practically squeaks behind him. he's been huddled in his office for too long, driving himself mad with paperwork and sergeants too stupid for their own good. he blinks, turning around, and he blinks when he sees you there in the doorway, hands shaking as you try and collect yourself.

when he looks carefully under the fluorescent lights, he can see there are tears in your eyes. it's then that he notices how you look, really look. there's a bruise blossoming on your jaw, the skin swelling a bit where there's a cut on your lip. your shirt is askew, and you're panting and sweating, like you've been running. he's never seen you this way. fuck, he barely sees you at all, except when he goes out during drills, and he's only ever spoken to you once or twice, just to receive some papers or to excuse himself as he tries to get around you in a crowded hallway. you are always quiet, always shy, smiling at him if you are near and trying to keep out of the way.

he doesn't know why it enrages him to see you in this state, but it does.

"the fuck happened t'ya?" he rasps, and he realizes it comes out harsher than he means. he isn't used to being nice.

the slamming of a door against a wall keeps you from answering. just like that, you're moving, about to scramble away, run, when ghost reaches out and grabs your wrist. he tugs you towards him, just quick enough that whoever is coming for you skids into the doorway.

it's a sergeant he recognizes. cocky, full of shit, who never hits his target. he's big, but not as big as ghost. he pauses when he realizes where you are and who you're with, skidding backwards as he tries to contain his anger.

"wot the fuck is goin' on?" ghost snaps, and you sputter, not able to make out your words properly.

"'m sorry, lieutenant," the sergeant huffs. "i'll take care of this."

when he lunges for you, ghost shoves you behind him, tilting his head to the side as he stares down at the little shit.

"did i fuckin' tell ya t'move?" ghost growls. "this how ya answer ta y'r superior, you fuckin' knob?"

"no," he spits back, but his eyes flash when ghost puts a gloved hand against his chest and pushes him back far enough to put appropriate distance between them.

"did y'hit this civilian?" ghost asks, a humorless laugh leaving him. when the sergeant doesn't respond, ghost turns finally, looking at you, and he clicks his tongue to get your eyes on him. "did he put his hands on ya?"

you tremble a little, moving the back of your hand over your eyes before nodding. you don't really register what happens next. you see blood on the tips of your kitten heels one moment, and you cover your eyes the next.

in the bathroom later that evening, ghost is careful as he dabs at your lip gently with a cool cloth. he has taken the gloves off (they were soaked with blood), and you try not to shiver as he holds your face with one big hand and cleans you up with the other. you can see the shadow of tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve.

"why'd y'come t'me?" he asks after a few minutes. you blink up at him, swallowing hard, and he stands back a little to get a better look at you.

"i've read your file," you whisper, looking down, a bit ashamed. "i just thought...you'd understand."

or maybe you wondered what he would do if he found out.

he hums a little, and you miss the feeling of his touch as soon as he lets go of you, washing his hands at the sink. you fixate on his stature, his size. the thick of his thighs, how the holsters there bulge and stretch to try and hold onto him.

just as he starts to leave, you stand from your seat, making your way to him. he hears you, stopping, and you hold onto his bicep gently as you get on your toes to kiss his cheek. he flinches a little, but he relaxes finally, leaning in for you to kiss him there again. when your eyes meet again, you think you see something there.

he kicks the door closed with his boot, trapping you in the room with him. you smile when the lock clicks.

[spxllcxstxr]

Jayce and Viktor with a S/O who is Hypersensitive to Loud Noises • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: hi !! how are you ? <3 your jayvik fics are so cute ☺️could i mayhaps request jayvik x gender - neutral reader headcannons with a reader whos hypersensitive to loud noises ? <3 tysm 💙-- anon

Warnings: gn!reader, hypersensitivity to loud noises

A.N: I'm so glad you guys like my jayvik stuff!!! I have a lot more in the works (including fics!!) Thank you so so much for the kind words, I hope you enjoy!!!

•

Jayce and Viktor are very understanding of your hypersensitivity. They never want to make you feel like a lab rat or test subject, but throughout your relationship they do take note of how loud is too loud and overwhelming for you. It’s because they care about you, of course

Viktor is especially understanding of it because he isn’t always too fond of touch. So he likes knowing your boundaries and how much is too much. They don’t walk on eggshells, but they do try to do everything as carefully and as quietly as possible. The last thing they want to do is trigger you and make you wince in pain at the volume

Jayce once slammed the front door of your apartment in frustration and immediately filled with guilt as his face drained of color. He saw you flinch and cover your ears and that man was in tears. He is just absolutely in love with you and the thought of causing you pain, even accidentally, just kills him inside. He always places his hands gently on your cheeks, peppering kisses on your forehead in apology

Viktor is mostly the same when it comes to accidentally making a loud noise. Sometimes his cane will fall to the floor making a loud bang which triggers it. Viktor likes giving you a tight hug as an apology as he whispers little things in your ear. He’s a bit of a mess as well, but he knows that accidents will happen and that you wouldn’t hate him for his lack of control over gravity

More often than not, Jayce and Viktor’s lab is filled to the brim with random loud noises. Sometimes they’re high-pitched beeps, other times the whirring of electricity, or the clanking of gears mashing inharmoniously together

(On those few days when your partners aren’t hectically fiddling around with their tools, they’re scribbling notes in their notebooks are bickering over equations scrawled across the blackboard. It may not be particularly peaceful, but it’s certainly more tame than testing out their latest idea involving the capabilities of hextech)

Because of this, your partners have a set of noise-cancelling headphones in the lab. Theyre your favorite color with little doodles in permanent marker that Viktor and Jayce once did when they hit a particular snag in their research. The headphones usually hang by the door so they’re within reach when you first enter the lab. If you ever forget them when you walk in, Jayce and Viktor remind you to grab them (usually accompanied by a little kiss on the temple if their hands aren’t full)

Additionally, Jayce and Viktor hold onto little earplugs with them. They’re always in their pockets, just in case. Your partners are very attentive and never want to be unprepared, especially when it comes to you

If there’s ever an exceptionally loud noise they always drop what they’re doing to find you. Even if they’re out in public, their priority is their partner. They’ll first make sure your ok before escorting you away from the source

If you prefer physical comfort like hugs, your partners will gladly oblige. You’ll sit in Jayce’s lap while he places kisses to the back of your head, his hands will rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin. Viktor will usually hold your face between his hands, amber eyes scanning over your figure, murmuring little endearments or encouragements to you

Never ever feel like a child or a burden because of this. These two are very supportive and happily drop everything for you. Your partners are so in love with you. They often try to improve the noise cancelling headphones for you, or find other ways to dampen loud noises. They find joy in helping you, just like you and Jayce want to find ways to make Viktor’s life with his leg easier and more enjoyable

•

[flowafairy]

his eyes are like angels ✿ bllk multi

﹒postscript : what’s his favorite thing about you? feat. ɞ‎ isagi, nagi, rin, sae, kaiser ʚ brief spoilers in kaiser’s.

isagi loves your words of affirmation. they feel like a refreshing breath of air that always manages to cool his mind off of blue lock. it makes him feel alive again when you praise a ‘cool move’ he played on the field. all the crap he hears when he’s at blue lock seems to melt away when your encouragement hits his ears and reminds him—soccer is not everything he has—because he has you too.

nagi always finds himself falling into a coma-deep sleep when you embrace him. the warmth of your hug sends him into a state of euphoria. he knows for sure he could never resort back to a pillow or an extra blanket whenever it was too cold—that could never beat the cosyness of your arms. maybe he doesn’t say it much, but you make him feel at home.

rin won’t admit it, but he loves hearing your voice, even if you tend to overuse it. whether it be you spamming him with voice mails, calling him late at night or just dropping by to yap. he’s delighted to know you’re comfortable with sharing a part of your life with him. it makes him feel like he’s holding onto something precious. it doesn’t matter what you’re talking about, rin will always cherish the sound of your voice ringing in his ears.

sae loves seeing you smile. even for something as small as him returning back home from practice, you never fail to have a cheeky smile on your face—“i was waiting for you.” you’d chirp and he could only give you an amused look. truth be told, your smile always brought a rush of nostalgia over him. the glee of your lips curling upwards reminded him of how rin would greet him when he came back home from playing soccer.

kaiser used to flinch whenever he’d feel your hand briefly hover over his. he was still new to the aspect of physical affection in your relationship. one by one your fingers would loosen up the wall he built around himself, and soon he found himself craving your affection. his body had long forgotten the impact his father made, instead replaced by your soothing touch.

[rosesareredrosa]

Exactly What I Needed

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: based on this ask <33

w/c: 945

a/n: Why is medical school so hard?? literally, i am rotting in bed with assignments everywhere send requests

You’d always known Theo wasn’t the type to openly crave affection. He had his moments—fleeting as they were—where he’d pull you close, bury his face in the crook of your neck, and let out a sigh that told you he needed you. But for the most part, his love was quieter, tucked into stolen glances or the brush of his fingers against yours in passing.

You didn’t mind. You loved him enough to make up for the gaps he left behind. That’s why you didn’t think much of it when you reached out to him one evening, wrapping your arms around him from behind as he sat at his desk, papers and textbooks scattered around. You nuzzled into his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against the side of his neck. "How’s it going?" you asked gently.

His body stiffened in your embrace, and without warning, he pulled away. "Can you not?" His tone was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

You blinked, taking a step back, confused. "What?"

Theo sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I just… I need space, okay? You’re being… clingy."

That word felt like a slap to the face. Clingy. The air between you shifted immediately, and you pulled your arms close to your chest as if trying to physically protect yourself from the impact of his words.

"I didn’t realize I was bothering you," you said quietly, feeling a tight knot form in your stomach.

"Well, you are," Theo snapped, his irritation flaring. "I’m already stressed enough without you hanging off me every second."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. "Okay."

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, feeling the sting of tears prick at the back of your eyes. You couldn’t believe how cold he’d been. And worse, how easily he had brushed you off as if your affection was some sort of burden.

For the next few days, you gave Theo exactly what he asked for—space. You stopped greeting him with hugs, stopped reaching out for his hand, stopped slipping into his side on the couch when you watched TV together. The house became a strange, quiet place, filled with a tension neither of you wanted to acknowledge. Theo was so focused on his work that he didn’t seem to notice at first, but then something shifted.

At first, it was subtle. He started glancing over at you during meals, as if expecting you to say something, to touch him. But you didn’t. You kept your distance, heart aching every time he looked at you with those confused eyes. Then came the moments where you’d walk past him in the hallway, and his fingers would twitch, as if he wanted to reach out but couldn’t figure out how.

It wasn’t until a few nights later, when you climbed into bed without saying a word to him, that Theo realized something was really wrong. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, unable to sleep as the weight of his own actions pressed down on him.

He turned to you, his voice soft, hesitant. "Y/N?"

You hummed in acknowledgment, still facing away from him.

There was a long pause, and then he sighed. "Have I… have I done something to upset you?"

You swallowed hard, the rawness of your emotions rising in your throat. "You told me I was being clingy. I’m just giving you the space you asked for."

Theo flinched at the reminder of his harsh words, guilt flooding his chest. He had been so wrapped up in his own stress, so overwhelmed by the pressure he was under, that he hadn’t realized how cruel he’d been. And now, here you were, doing exactly what he’d asked, and it was killing him.

"I didn’t mean it," Theo said quietly, his voice strained. "I was stressed, and I took it out on you. But that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t have said that."

You stayed silent for a moment, your heart pounding as his words sank in. Part of you wanted to forgive him, to turn around and let him hold you like he always did when he realized he’d messed up. But the hurt still lingered, and you weren’t sure you could just brush it off like it hadn’t happened.

"You can’t just say things like that, Theo," you whispered, your voice trembling. "It hurts."

He shifted closer to you, hesitantly placing a hand on your arm. "I know. I’m sorry." His thumb rubbed small, apologetic circles against your skin, and you could hear the regret in his voice, thick and heavy. "I don’t want space from you. I need you. I always need you."

Your breath hitched, and you finally turned to face him. His eyes were soft, filled with a kind of vulnerability that Theo rarely showed. It tugged at your heartstrings, and despite everything, you could see how much he wanted to make it right.

"I’m not just something you can push away when things get tough," you said softly, but firmly. "I’m here because I love you. But I can’t keep putting myself out there if you’re just going to shut me down."

Theo’s face crumpled slightly, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I know," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I promise I’ll do better. I don’t want to push you away."

You stayed there for a moment, the two of you breathing in sync, the tension between you slowly easing as the apology hung in the air. His arms wrapped around you then, gently this time, like he was afraid you might slip away if he held you too tight.

After a few moments, you let yourself melt into his embrace, allowing him to pull you back into the warmth you’d missed. "I missed you," Theo murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "I’m sorry I made you feel like you were too much when you were exactly what I needed."

You exhaled softly, your head resting against his chest as you felt his heartbeat against your cheek. "Just… don’t do it again."

"I won’t," he promised, his voice resolute. "I swear."

And for the first time in days, the distance between you began to fade, replaced by the quiet comfort of knowing that you were still the most important thing to him, even when he didn’t always know how to show it.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, kidnapped reader, murder of nameless side characters

♡ fem reader

Thinking about that moment of violent change you’re forced to go through when your loving boyfriend becomes the terrifying man you don’t recognize—and how it completely eradicates the reality you’d grown so comfortable in, realizing it was all some perfectly orchestrated lie.

Rope burns on your wrists and ankles, tears streaking your chunky cheeks, and a poor soul’s blood on your pretty face belonging to some guy who’d gotten a little too close for comfort.

He’d cut him down like it was nothing.

The knife is held still by his side, a shining red murder weapon, dripping on the floor in the growing pond by his feet. He sighs heavily, casts his head back then looks behind him, beholding you through slim eyes, clicking his tongue, “Look what you made me do…”

He wouldn’t be the only one… several victims followed in his bloody path—witnesses who’d seen him struggle with you, kicking and screaming for all your worth, trying anything to get away. You were all too easily manhandled into the car, and could only watch behind the locked door, banging with bound fists on the glass while he gutted other passersby who’d threatened to call the police.

Driving off, he growls at you, first to shut up and then, “That was your fault—if only you’d been a good girl, none of those innocent people would have had to die.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel, wringing it in his stained grip—scarlet on ivory. “If you don’t want any more blood on your hands, you better sit pretty and not cause me any more trouble.”

You sob uncontrollably and inconsolably despite the threat—you can’t stop yourself—you can’t even comprehend his words. None of it makes any sense. You’d seen it all, and yet you can’t understand it—any of it. You’d watched the sweet guy you knew shed his skin and become a monster right before your eyes. It must be some bad dream, some terrible, awful, horrible nightmare.

But even if it is, you don’t want him touching you ever again. It makes you physically sick to your stomach to think you’d ever shared a bed with him—exchanged sweet nothings in the damp heat of each other. No, no, no, it’s not the same person—it can’t be. It can’t be true. What about the smiles you’d shared over breakfast, those times you’d surprised each other at lunch, all the dates, all the gifts, all the kisses, the future you’d talked about?

You’d fallen in love. But you’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t even exist.

He makes sure the door to the bedroom’s under lock and a key he stores somewhere you won’t find it. You squirm in your bonds on the bed when he approaches, shivering with whimpers under his hands, flinching at his touch while he unties you, then cringing as he angles your face to look at him—wanting to pry free, anything not to look into those changed eyes.

You hadn’t thought his build was imposing before, it hadn’t struck you as lethal. Naively, you’d thought him cozy—a big chest and a warm embrace he would scoop you up in, a safe place you could live. He’s cold now, menacing and filthy from his crimes—the body of a killer, a cold-blooded murderer. He’s so big it makes the room feel too small for the both of you. Claustrophobic.

He forces your gaze to him, and it’s all you see, those eyes, those unrecognizable eyes, with that look within you can’t understand, beholding you with burden.

“I still love you,” he states, though it angers him. “Even though you broke my heart. I still love you.”

You shake your head, or you try to, but it results in only tiny tremors caught in his hand where he keeps your chin, bloody fingers buried in your plump cheeks, squeezing so hard you wince.

“But it doesn’t come for free,” he seethes with an awful sneer. A type of grimace you’d never thought him capable of, overfilled with disdain. “My love is earned. And after all you did today, you’re in deep debt.”

He lets go of your face with a nasty shove, taking a mean grip on your shirt instead, using both fists to tear it down the middle. You yelp and cover yourself, but that only angers him further—causing him to grab your wrists and pin them to your side. You think you feel your joints popping.

“Test me, and I’ll hurt you,” he growls, his teeth bared at your ear where your face curls to hide itself in the pillow. “I don’t want to, but if that’s what it takes to make you sorry, then so be it. Be good, and I won’t have to take it that far.”

You lie as still as you can muster while he removes the rest—roughly as he goes—your bra, your skirt, your underwear. You only snivel and toil with the sheets in weak little fists, making your joints cramp up—feeling raw under him, at the mercy of those blood-dried hands.

You understand what he’s about to do, and yet it doesn’t really dawn on you before you hear the sharp ringing of his belt buckle being undone. You don’t look, but you don’t close your eyes either—the room is already dark enough that closing your eyes would make you feel too close to death. So, you keep your gaze fixed to the side, to the stale wall.

The bed bounces you as he shuffles. The urge to run bubbles within, but you know it wouldn’t be to your advantage. So your mind spins, thinking of other possibilities, growing ever more panicked when coming up empty.

He spits on your slit, then rears it with his spitefully erect shaft—pushing in without further prep. And you lose all sense of control.

Twisting at the attack, you scream again, “No! Stop—”

Your hands barely touch him before he’s answered the protest with a tightening grip on your neck. Unrelenting, your throat instantly snares, and you choke on any further outburst.

“I told you,” he chastises. “Why do you have to force my hand, huh?”

You gasp for any sliver worth of air, sipping through the cracks of his chokehold, but it’s very nearly sealed completely shut. You try lifting his grip with your own, both hands holding onto his wrist, wanting to pull loose but achieving nothing.

It’s so pitiful that he ignores the effort. Using his remaining hand to continue what he’d set out to do. Planting his tip at your unprepped entrance, he wasted no time before surging forward.

Your vision starts to spot, and your hands grow weak, barely hanging on.

“That’s good. Lie still and take it,” he groans—his lips on your cheek as he bullies through your dry walls, only aided by his spit. “And I might consider once’ enough.”  

You don’t have a choice, feeling your body go numb. He picks your thigh up over his hip and drives deeper—starting a steady pace without letting go of your throat, squeezing the life out of you. Your hands finally drop, lying limp, and still, you feel it deep within—the thrusting as he beats your sorry cunt into an aching mess, then fills you up with awful warmth.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Naoya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[ultravi0lence14]

My Girl

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.2k | angst, fluff

summary: some people just don’t know when to quit, and when dean notices how uncomfortable you are with a local cop on a case, he can’t seem to hold in his anger.

there was no way this hunt could get any worse.

you, sam, and dean had only been in this small, connecticut town for two days, and everything had already gone to shit. the lead witness was no help, there was barely any evidence, and to top it all off, you had to see him.

max mcmillan, the person you wished to never see again. you knew him in high school, being a friend of a friend and running into him on rare occasions.

max seemed like a nice guy, his only flaw was he always harboured a weird liking towards you. it wasn’t something you’d deem stalkerish, just an observation that you had made over the years.

just your luck he was here now, working as one of the police officers on the case. you had politely smiled at him when you first saw him, but the second he realized who you were it was almost as though that keen liking he had towards you crawled back up.

he would always be around you. getting you coffee, trying to start up a conversation, and being way too close for your comfort. you could tell that dean had noticed this, and he seemed as though he was one more shoulder pat away from blowing a fuse.

dean could tell you were uncomfortable. he knew what you looked like when that chill of unease ran up your spine, and he knew how you were about physical touch.

you were never good with people touching you, even as a young child. if someone even grazed your hand you would unravel into a fit of tears, needing to be alone for the next couple of hours to calm yourself down.

no hugs, handshakes, hand holding, anything. you didn’t have a healthy relationship with physical affection as a child, for both of your parents were not really the perfect candidates for mom and dad of the year. but you lived with it, and dealt with your no physical contact for many years to come.

that was until dean winchester came into your life.

you had met the infamous winchesters when bobby asked them to assist you on a ghoul case two years back, and since then, you three have been inseparable.

from the start you liked dean. he had this charm and whit about him that just reeled you in, wanting to know more. didn’t help that he was absolutely gorgeous on top of it.

the boys almost instantly noticed your distaste for any physical touch. it was sam who saw you flinch when he went to go hug you after a tough case. since then, they have respected your wishes and didn’t bring up the matter unless you did first.

as you and dean got closer, he would constantly catch you reaching out but reeling back at the last minute. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he waited until you two officially started dating, making sure you were comfortable with him touching you.

you were, one hundred percent. dean winchester was the only person you’d allow to hug, touch, or even hold your hand. you were slowly warming up to sam, but any other person was completely off limits, and if dean noticed he’d be on their ass in a second.

so as he stood in this police precinct, a watchful eye on max as he leaned over your shoulder, practically breathing down your neck and making you tense immediately, dean wanted to beat into his face until he learned what personal space and boundaries were.

sam had noticed the man’s unwanted attention on you, but he also noticed the fury written on his brothers face and he wanted to defuse the situation as calmly as possible.

while they stood side by side, pretending to listen to some cop ramble on about a traffic cam that wasn’t even in importance to the case, sam angled his head and whispered over to dean. “if you stare at him any longer i think you might explode his head.”

the older winchester just huffed, redirecting his eyes so he can look at sam. “well if he doesn’t back up than i might just have to.” the words came out like a bullet coming out of a gun; followed by dean straining his head so he could keep an eye on your facial expressions.

“she can handle herself, dean. you don’t need to worry about her all the time.” sam was right. you were perfectly capable in handling yourself and dean knew that. he just had a nagging feeling that this guy wasn’t going to back off so easily.

you were on the verge of turning and clocking max in the face. his breath on your skin was making you uncomfortable and he was way too close for comfort.

“the suspect couldn’t have gone far since- Y/N?” you hadn’t even realized you had zoned out, too busy being focused on calming your breathing and not breaking down.

“i’m sorry,” you spoke, taking a step back from max and turning towards the door. “i’ll be back, i just need to get some fresh air.” you didn’t even wait for a response as you sprinted towards the glass double doors, pushing them open and heavily breathing in the cool air.

leaning against the solid brick of the station, you tried to stop a panic attack from coming on. slowing your breathing, calming your thoughts, and taking in the fresh air was helping you get back on track. that was until you heard his nagging voice again.

“there you are Y/N. i think you should come back inside, i think i’ve found something.” max had come and stood so close to you it was like he was trying to mesh the two of you together. you couldn’t take it anymore, taking a giant step back and reeling your hands out in front of you.

“max, i am so sorry but can you please give me some personal space?” he seemed taken aback by your words, halting in all movement he was planning on doing. you realized you could’ve been nicer but this had been going on for two days and you were sick and tired of acting like you were fine.

doing the complete opposite of what you had asked, max started to step closer to you. “what’s wrong, Y/N? did i do something?” it was like what you were saying was going in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t grasp what the boy wasn’t picking up on

“max, please.” you breathed out, hoping he would understand and leave you alone. but he just came closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards his chest.

the air in your lungs escaped. you couldn’t breath and it was almost as if your skin was on fire. you tried to pull away but his grip was far too tight, fighting your attempt to get away from his touch. “cmon, Y/N let’s just go inside. work this out together.” he was dragging you now, attempting to get you to the precinct doors. but the fight you were putting up was straining any further moves he had planned.

feebly trying to push at his chest with your other hand, you felt tears sting your eyes, escaping and falling down your cheeks. “let me go max, please.” you could feel your brain shutting down, the notion of max not listening to a single word you were saying finally setting in.

you could feel your resolve start to slip when suddenly, you heard a faint shout in the distance. a loud “hey!” was heard over your racing heart before max was spun around and knocked to the ground.

dean was holding max up by his collar, fist landing repeated blows on his face. you could see sam and a couple other officers run outside as dean held max up like a rag doll, the latter not even being able to land any punches with how tight dean was holding him.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” dean’s words came out gritted through his teeth, sharp like a knife piercing max’s skin.

you didn’t know what to do. dean was in such a frenzy that trying to pull him away would just be stupid, and you were honestly enjoying watching max get his ass beat.

“dean!” sam yelled, finally reaching his brother and trying to pull him off the struggling man. the older winchester just wouldn’t budge, and it took sam and three other cops to fully detach him from max’s limp body.

you watched as sam attempted to pull dean’s arms behind him, the latter fighting his brother with such intense fervour you truly thought he was going to break free and go for another couple of punches on max’s face.

when sam was able to slightly calm dean down, the older winchester walked to max and got right in his face, staring at the other man with the deadliest look you have possibly ever seen from him. “if you even step one foot towards my girl, i’ll fucking break your legs. got it?” all max could do was slightly nod, slipping in and out of consciousness

the other police officers had gone inside to get medical attention and had now come out to see if max had sustained any proper injuries from dean’s beating. before any of them could even utter a word, dean had walked over to you and gently grabbed your hand, following sam as the younger winchester high tailed it to the impala.

the car ride back to the motel was silent, filled with a tense atmosphere that had you picking at your nails. dean was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, the wounds on his bloodied knuckles were widening more greatly. sam was just staring ahead, not saying a word. if you knew the boy though, you knew that inside he was stewing with a multitude of emotions.

when the impala stopped in front of the motel, you got out and went directly to the room. you noticed sam stop dean, not letting him walk into the room yet. the look on his face was passive, and you knew that sam had an earful waiting for dean to hear. so you just closed the door, listening to sam scold dean through the window.

all you could do was sit on your bed and stare silently at the wall. this is exactly what you would do as a kid, sit in silence trying to calm yourself down. you didn’t even hear the roar of the impala as sam drove off or dean come into the room. you only noticed when a soft, gentle hand was placed on your cheek, making you turn to look dean in the eyes.

“hey, baby, you okay?” all you could do was nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. dean just nodded, slightly brushing some hair out of your eyes as he smiled. “sam just went to grab some dinner. doesn’t look like we’ll be going back to the station tonight.” his sad attempt at a joke made you giggle slightly, warranting an even bigger smile on deans face.

“there she is.” he guided your head so it laid on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug. the feeling of your arms wrapping around his middle and squeezing him tightly had dean feeling calm, at ease after all that just happened.

what snapped you out of your comfort was the scene of deans knuckles; stained with blood and marred with cut skin and angry red wounds. you pulled back and studied his hand, allowing yourself to truly see what he’d done.

“oh dean,” you muttered. bringing his hand closer to your face to see how truly bad the cuts were. “we need to clean this up.”

with a reassuring squeeze of your hand, dean got off the bed and stood in front of you. watching as your eyes worriedly followed his frame, waiting to see what he was going to do.

cupping your face once more, dean smiled as he spoke. “don’t worry your pretty little head, sunshine. i’ll patch myself up. i will be right back.” with that he kissed your cheek and made his way to the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him as you moved to get into comfier clothes.

by the time dean was done, you were already in bed. half asleep as you were tired from how fast your brain was moving today. you listened as dean got out of his fbi suit, resorting to just sleeping in his boxers as he moved to get in bed next to you.

your body moved so you could put your head onto dean’s chest, finding comfort in how close the two of you were. his one hand moved to play with your hair as his other went to grab your own hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and lightly brushing them across your skin.

the last thing you remember before falling into a deep sleep was the feeling of dean’s hand in your hair and his soft voice soothing all your worries from earlier.

“i’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Diasomnia with “who hurt you” trope

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia doesn’t feel like himself when he sees you, your eyes closed, your body impossibly still - he can feel his heart hammering in his chest as he approached you, fingers desperately searching your skin for a sign of life. It seemed his touch brought you back, even briefly, eyes finding his alongside a weak smile. He whispered his question with an intensity you’d never heard from him before, flinching as he almost yelled it in his next breath. He had to know who did this to assure they never did it again. When he sees fear reflected in your eyes he calmed himself, a hand delicately caressing your cheek as he asked again in a gentler tone and leaned down so you wouldn’t have to strain yourself or your voice. He hummed thoughtfully at the description and seared it into his head, hiding the eerie look on his face as he pressed a kiss to your head and promised you’d be okay soon.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus had always been observant of the people he cared about, especially when there was a comfortable routine to be found. He had found such a routine with you, where your classes were right next to each other and you had the same lunch; you would often walk to the cafeteria together, getting your food and finding a much quieter spot to eat or enjoy each other’s company. He can’t say he hadn’t been curious about how long this might last until you forgot, when this wouldn’t just be a daily pleasantry to you but like an appointment you were expected to keep to appease the dragon. He tastes bile in the back of his throat the one day you don’t appear, a lingering disappointment though he tried not to let it show as his emotions tended to cause disasters. It’s only when he sees you again, your eyes looking lifeless and your body language closed off, that he realized something must have happened. He wants to pry, to ask a million questions to get to the bottom of this so things could return to normal, but his experiences had taught him many things, so he chose to wait beside you until you were ready to confide in him. He was confident he’d find out who hurt you regardless, and that he could handle it swiftly.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek doesn’t immediately notice any odd behavior, going about the conversation regarding your schoolwork as normal. It’s when tear drops began to stain the paper in front of you that he’s rendered speechless, knowing you weren’t weak enough to cry over something like potion ingredients. He’s incredibly clumsy in his attempts to understand what upset you, who upset you — it wasn’t him, right? As brash as he could be he had learned the proper way to act without pushing you away, so he’s confident it wasn’t that. He’s meant to be a fighter and if someone had physically hurt you, he’d know exactly how to restore your honor. However, with only figurative bruises on your heart he’s struggling, twice as much as he would with a regular friend due to the depth of his feelings for you. You can at least find some amusement in Sebek’s ever changing facial expressions as he used all his brain power to remedy the situation.

Silver:

Silvers steps were steady as he approached, stealthily following the trail of blood and hoping it didn’t lead to an unfortunate prize. He broke out into a sprint when he sees your form curled up on the ground, a much larger puddle of blood gathered nearby to hint he had found the main source behind the trail. He’s fighting not to panic as he kneeled over your body, hands holding your face as he begged for you to wake up, to just look at him. When you do it brings him enough relief that he could cry, forehead pressed to yours as he asked who did this to you. He doesn’t know what his next course of action is, frown plastered to his face as your eyes slid shut again; he could see your chest moving now, in the familiar way it did when you slept, leaving him a little more at ease. Silver felt like he might not sleep for another hundred years, not until the person who hurt you was thoroughly punished.

[seelestia]

cw. the aftermath of a physical altercation (implied), hurt with comfort, one mention of his real name utc. you're patching him up! 200+ wc.

“you're the first one, you know.”

the epiphany relayed to you falls softly from aventurine's lips, offering itself up for your listening ears as you dab a cotton over his scarred cheek. whatever residual from the prior scuffle must've stung, but he doesn't flinch one bit. you frown at the thought that he might've been so acquainted with pain that he coats every wound using numbness as a gauze. still, your touch on him remains gentle.

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“the first one to touch me without wanting to hurt me,” he confesses.

you don't make a remark but he doesn't mind at all. he finds that your actions speak louder than your words do; how you don't pull away from him, how you let him. . . to have this, to savor this instead. how strange, really, never in his life has permission ever tasted this sweet before.

(in his mind, he distantly recalls the calloused hands of those who held him before—his family—but it's been so long, too long since he was last held so kindly. you're the first to do so in a long while.)

you feel him lean into your hand. on purpose, perhaps. whether to prove his point, a daring gamble for you could easily strike him at his lowest (you didn't) – or to relish in the taste of comfort you're providing him, something he has been denied of by both destiny and himself (for comfort only tastes acrid when it comes from someone like him).

like a pair of arms open to embrace, like tears ready to be brushed away, like an unspoken invitation of: come rest, i'll be here.

(he sees them in your eyes, feels them in your touch.)

“. . .thank you.”

kakavasha whispers, almost reverent and bursting at the seams with gratitude, against your hand.

[street-smarts00]

Next to You

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: While spending the night in a hotel for a case, a terrifying nightmare shakes you awake. But someones there to comfort you.

WC: 2k 

Tags: One bed trope BUT WITH A TWIST TEE HEE, HUGE hurt/comfort moment, some touch starved babies, friends to lovers A/N: the relieving feeling of finally finishing a fic!!! This was fun to write, enjoy nerds ;) beta read by the lovely @whats-yesterday00

Your lungs were starting to burn from running so fast. The heavy steps speeding up from behind made your chest tighten. You flinched at the sound of shots fired in your direction but didn’t stop running. 

The SUV’s finally came into view. As you closed the distance, the rest of your team rushed out. As they reached for their holsters, you heard more gunshots. But not from them. 

Half the team was down once you reached them. It didn’t make any sense. You were so far ahead of the unsub. There’s no way he could’ve gotten 3 clear shots to your team. You fell to the snow on the ground, your warm breath turning into a fog in the air as you panted. The sight in front of you ripped your insides to shreds. 

As your heart rate sped up, eyes shot open. You were met with the almost pitch black ambiance of the hotel room. You could feel your heart beating throughout your whole body and could practically hear it in your ears. 

You slowly sat up as the tightness in your chest returned. Tears started to fall down your cheeks.

You didn’t get nightmares often. Before your current job, it rarely ever happened. They became more frequent the more you worked at the BAU. Tonight was one of those nights that your worst fears tainted your dreams. 

Of course tonight it had to happen. When you were away on a case miles away from home and sharing a hotel room. Sharing a room with Spencer. 

You didn’t have any objections to sharing a room with him, but the nerves from your feelings for him never went away. You’d fallen asleep sitting next to him on the jet before, but this was for a whole night- and for possibly multiple nights. The only thing that eased some of your anxiety was that he had his own bed far from you. If you were even remotely close to him you’d have to resist not reaching for him. 

And now you had a nightmare with him in the same room. 

The idea of waking him up made you feel prematurely guilty. The fear of crying infront of him made you mortified. You wiped at your tears and tried to hold back from crying. You kept glancing at the other bed to make sure Spencer didn’t wake up.

Your breath became heavier as little gasps threatened to fall out so you clasped your hands over your mouth. The tears blurred your vision and your head went dizzy as you tried to control your breath. Then, out of your control, a choked sob escaped your lips. 

It alerted Spencer's attention almost immediately. Half awake, he stirred in bed and called out your name to confirm if you were awake. 

This only made you feel worse. You tried to stay as quiet as possible. Didn’t move an inch and didn’t even breathe. But still, small whimpers left your mouth as you resisted from hyperventilating. 

Spencer, now fully awake, shot up as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room looking for you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, full of concern. 

The second he heard you sniffle. he sprang out of his bed and rushed to yours. He sat down beside you and carefully placed a hand on your back. “What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

You sniffled again and met his eyes. You could just barely see them thanks to the small amount of light peeking in through the window. “I- I-” you could barely get out in between gasped breaths. 

He immediately wrapped his arms around you and placed your head on his chest. The embrace made you finally fall apart. You sobbed into his chest and let the tears stream down your face. You clung to him like your life depended on it. In return, he held you as close as he was physically able to. His one arm gently held your head against him while the other slowly caressed your back. The action made you turn to jelly in his arms. 

Once your breathing slowed down and your heart rate calmed, you separated from Spencer. He carefully pushed your hair behind your ears and held your face in his hands. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he whispered.  

You sniffled once more, “Not really.” 

He nodded, “why don’t you try to go back to sleep, okay?” 

You nodded back to answer. 

“If you need me just say the word.” He started to get up from your bed, but before he could leave, you interrupted. 

“Spence, could you uh,” you stumbled on your words. 

He sat back down. Looking at you with the most caring eyes while he lets you take your time. 

You ignored the warning signals going off in your brain. The warnings that told you this was a step too far. The anxiety that told you this action will lead you growing too close to him and hurting your unrequited feelings. 

“Could you stay? Please,” you pleaded in a quiet voice. 

“Of course.” 

The weight on your shoulders started to lift. You resumed your spot under the covers as Spencer walked around to the other side of the bed and followed your actions. He left enough room between the two of you so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by his presence or be uncomfortable. 

As if you could ever be uncomfortable around him. 

As he whispered goodnight, you carefully reached over to his side under the covers. Your hand found his. He instinctively took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

As the minutes rolled bye, you came no closer to falling asleep. It feels like you’ve spent the past half hour tossing and turning. Every time you closed your eyes, the images from your nightmare flashed before you. 

At some point, you moved enough to wake up the man next to you. 

Spencer called out your name, “you alright?” 

“I’m sorry for waking you up again,” you apologized, deflecting his answer. 

He turned around to face you. “I don’t mind. What’s up?” 

“I can’t sleep. Too scared.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked again. He knew hearing that question in a state of stress could sometimes be found annoying. But more importantly, he knew it was a key way of relieving that stress. 

After a moment of silence from you, he rescinded the question. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t-“

“You died.” 

Your voice sounded quiet and fragile. “And it was my fault.” 

His eyes and voice were full of worry as he spoke your name. 

“I know it’s not real. I know it never happened but… I’ve never felt so scared.” Your eyes threaded to spill with tears and you desperately tried blinking them away. 

Spencer reached for your upper arm and rubbed his thumb against your skin. He saw you start to relax at the contact. 

Your breath shook as you tried to inhale. “I don’t know how I can go to sleep after that.” 

He’s quiet for a moment considering his approach to comfort you. He saw how well you responded to physical touch earlier in the night. When he comforted you with an embrace your stress reduced significantly. 

“I have an idea. Come here,” he moved the blanket to allow you space next to him. 

You nervously inched closer to him. 

“Put your head on my shoulder.” You hesitated before complying and settling at his side. Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist and he himself hesitated before pulling you closer. His hand rested on your back. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered. 

“It’s more than okay,” you muttered back. 

He took that as a sign to repeat his previous actions from earlier and run his hand up and down your back. This time much slower and gentler. The action made you melt in his arms. You reacted to the gesture by burying your face into his neck. 

“Thank you.. for this,” you mumbled. He could feel your breath against his skin. 

“I’d do anything to make sure you feel safe,” he held onto you like you provided the air he breathed. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispered, just barely audible. 

The only reason you could hear him was because he was so close. His words sent shivers down your spine and butterflies in your stomach. 

“I always feel safe around you, Spence.” 

The walls you had carefully built up when he asked you to lay next to him were starting to come down. The moment became too sweet and sensual to ignore. Every one of his touches was driving you to the brink of insanity. Your neck and ears grew in temperature as the feelings overwhelmed you. Your heart rate started to pick up at a racing speed. 

Unfortunately, Spencer noticed. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, why?” you answered much too quickly. 

“Your heart's beating really fast.”  

“Oh,” you breathed. “I’m fine, there’s no reason.” 

He saw through you like glass. “Of course there’s a reason.” Spencer loosened his grip and shifted his weight to get a better look at you. His hand moved to the small of your back. 

“Is it the nightmare? Is it still bothering you?” he asked, his voice quiet and kind. 

You mumbled a timid, “no.” 

He examined your features, watching you get lost in your own head. “What are you thinking?” 

You looked up into his eyes. Your thoughts were swirling with too much to even give him a semblance of what was going on. Everything from his touch, his smell, his irises looking straight into your soul. 

While riding on the intoxicating wave of his care, you let a confession slip out. 

“I think I want to kiss you right now.” 

Spencer's eyes widened and although you couldn't see it, his cheeks flushed with red.

“Oh,” was all he could make out, at a loss for words. 

His pause caused your anxiety to spike. You immediately regret your actions. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 

You started to retract from him and turn away. But before you could flee from his hold, he grabbed your upper arm, pulling you back towards him. In an instant, Spencer's lips crashed into yours.

The initial shock had your lips frozen, before they started to melt against his. As he felt you relax, he poured more passion into you. The kiss tasted like desperation. Like you both were holding in a hunger that had driven you to starvation. 

His hands couldn’t find a place to rest. They were traveling up and down your figure, from your waist, back, hips, neck, and face. Your hands settled at the side of his face and the back of his neck while your fingers played with the ends of his hair. Spencer sighed into your mouth and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. 

As the kiss continued, Spencer's hand traveled down to your thigh. You instinctively wrapped your leg around him. But in a moment of nervousness, his movements glitched and lips slowed. His hand gently resumed its pawing at your thigh as he softened in your hold. 

Time felt like it stood still.  You breathed each other in like it was the first time you felt fresh air. 

The only thing concerning you or him was taking a literal breath of air and releasing from the kiss. 

You both pulled away gasping for breath and started to fall down from the high. As heavy exhales leave you, Spencer pressed small delicate kisses against your cheeks and the corners of your lips. His hold on your leg loosened and his fingers slowly traveled up and down your thigh. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that before,” you admit, sheepishly smiling. 

He smiled back at you, “me neither.” 

“Can we talk more about this in the morning?” you asked. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I'm exhausted.” After the passion had washed away, you were reminded how much sleep you lost throughout the night. 

“Absolutely,” he said with a fond and relieved look. “Come on, we should get some rest.”

You both settled into a more comfortable position to fall asleep. There was an unconscious understanding between you two and that there was no way you were separating.

[theorderisgone]

ꕀ ﹒Warmth beneath the walls　౨ৎ

PAIRING // ITOSHI RIN X GN!READER

SUMMARY // Rin, who despises physical contact, finds himself unexpectedly yearning for your touch, realising you're the only exception to his guarded walls.

CONTENT // drabble, sfw, fluff, gn!reader

Itoshi Rin has never been one for physical affection. It doesn't matter if its a hug from a teammate after scoring a goal, or a high five after a match. Their actions are unreciprocated and often met with the cold shoulder, but that's how he's always been. His teammates learned quickly—keep your distance. Even Sae, in their rare moments of brotherly connection, kept his gestures limited to a curt nod or a fleeting brush of a hand.

And yet, with you, something shifted.

The first time it happened, it was unintentional. You had been laughing, carefree and radiant, and instinctively placed a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. Rin practically froze under your touch, but instead of the usual discomfort, there was warmth. A strange, unfamiliar heat that spread from where your hand rested, coursing through his veins like a quiet hum.

He didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he found himself leaning ever so slightly into your touch, almost imperceptibly, as though his body was betraying him in the gentlest way.

The next time, it was deliberate. You were seated beside him, scrolling through your phone, when your fingers brushed against his. It was a fleeting moment, one you probably didn’t even notice, but Rin did. He noticed everything. The way your hand felt smaller than his, the way your warmth lingered even after you’d pulled away. That night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out why he didn’t hate it.

Now, it’s different. He’s different.

When you reach for him, he doesn’t flinch. When you link your arm through his, he doesn’t pull away. When your fingers trail across his skin, he doesn’t tense. Instead, he craves it—seeks it out in quiet, unspoken ways. A hand on the small of your back when you walk together. His fingers brushing yours as he hands you something. A subtle lean closer when you sit beside him.

Rin still hates physical contact—except when it’s with you. With you, it doesn’t feel like an invasion. It feels like home.

author's notes // hihi this is my first time writing and posting on tumblr!! please drop some suggestions or ideas on what i should write next. thanks for reading <3

[bi-writes]

ghost is off limits. not just emotionally or romantically, but physically. you have seen the aftermath of when someone so much as bumps into him or brushes past his arm in a tight hallway. they learn very quickly that lieutenant riley isn't to be touched, not even a little, not at all. (18+)

ohhhh but not for the medic. your touch is clinical. necessary. ordered. ghost glares, but he does not tell you to go away when you make your way into captain price's office. it's late; they just touched down not even ten minutes ago, exhausted and burdened by an op that took a few weeks of their absence.

he smells like sweat, like grime, and you can taste the sand in the air when you take a seat next to him. even seated, he is taller than you. he takes up a ridiculous amount of space, dwarfing the office chair he sits in. you set your kit down on your captain's desk, turning to face your lieutenant.

"uhm...could you show it to me?"

he huffs in annoyance before he pulls his tactical vest over his head, tossing it onto the floor. you swallow, blinking, focusing, as he unzips the jacket he wears and lets it fall at his feet. your lips part a little as he reveals the strength of his arms, tight muscles straining against the shirt he wears and showing off the sleeve of ugly military tattoos that are sunburnt along one arm.

gorgeous, giant man, but then your eyes take interest on the nasty gash along one arm, a jagged wound that stretches nearly from shoulder to elbow. it looks angry and irritated, much like the look in his eyes.

when you put your hands on him for the first time, he flinches. not because he is in pain, but the feeling of skin against skin is so foreign, like a wound of its own. you blink up at him, soft and sweet, and you show him your hands, what you're doing with them.

"just going to clean it out and stitch you up, lieutenant. promise i won't take too long."

but he likes it. the way your soft palm cups his scarred forearm, running a cloth over the lines of blood that trace along the length to his wrist and drip onto the floor. the warm drag of your fingers pushing his skin together so you can hook the needle through and stitch him up solid and effectively. those easy, gentle strokes, threading through skin as you would hem a skirt, a pattern that you have not forgotten that is now being weaved onto his very body.

he'll wear your stitch pattern like a patch he has so dutifully earned. and you will wear his marks just the same, yes she will, the good girl that she is.

when you finish, he grunts, flexing his fist to gauge the tautness of his skin and the way the wound burns as he stretches his arm. he tilts his head to the side, glaring. your hands rest easy there, still pressed up against him, and he nods at you expectantly.

"open y'r mouth, sergeant."

and you do. because he's your lieutenant, and he has given you an order. he hikes his mask up, revealing a disgusting grin and the sharp edge of a torn lip, a face mangled beyond recognition. when he spits in your mouth, he tastes just as you expected--like sand and smoke.

"now swallow."

and you do, but not because he's your lieutenant, it's something else, something more. not afraid, but intrigued, somehow not put off, but needing sustenance.

when he crowds you in the infirmary later that night, you don't understand. you don't understand the sudden need to touch, the way he grips your ass, the nasty way he bites at your jaw and pushes your pants down your thighs and puts his cock between your thighs.

he promises he won't fuck you, promises he'll be nice this time, but it's hard to discern between reality and heaven when he lets the tip catch on your clit with every frantic stroke. you squeak with every rough thrust, pressing your ass against his pelvis as you arch your back, wanting to see his face, wanting to kiss him, wanting to make this tender and soft and a little romantic, but that isn't ghost.

ghost is mean. ghost isn't a giver, he's a taker. ghost is made of sharp edges only, broken glass on all sides, it's such a shame his cock is so nice and so big and so good, lieutenant, please, i need it--

"need more," is what you beg, even though you know he can't give it to you. you know, but he does it anyway, he slips a big hand between your thighs and opens you up, and you cry when he finally sinks deep, hoisting you up, your back tight against his chest as he learns how quiet the voices in his head are when he's so deep in your pretty, pretty pussy.

he slips another hand around your throat, baring it, giving himself room so he can bite at your neck and lick over the salt and brand you with the evidence of the reprieve he refuses to give, but you don't care, all you can do is smile.

you know his secrets now, the things he would never tell, the things he can't say out loud.

it's almost frightening that you don't really care if he has to kill you to keep you quiet.

[romana-after-dark]

Keep Running, Little Bunny!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Logan takes you, but gives you a chance to escape... what isn't he telling you?

Warnings: NON CON DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Logan is a masochist and a bit of a sadist but def more into the pain. Feral!Logan, primal kink, THIS IS NON NON, READER AND LOGAN GET SLICED UP! I'm not listing everything here, just please read with caution! Physical and sexual violence! Somno!

Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, able bodied

A/N: first time writing Logan!!! Im obssed with him after deadpool wolverine but the only other Wolverine movie ive seen was that really bad one in like japan or something lmfao. I do wanna watch them all now (Oscar Isaac is in apocalypse!) This may not be the most correct but I'm trying. Lemme know if you wan more Logan!

Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Im late but I wanted to do the manspreading for the manspreading olympics by @toxicanonymity

"You're a hard girl to get a hold of, princess."

Logan is sitting across from the bed you've woken up in, in a chair with his legs spread wide. You can see the bulge in his pants from how he touched you, caressing your sleeping body as you slowly woke up from whatever you were given. His hands slid up your loose shorts, a single finger slipping in and out of your hole, making sure the first words you woke up to were, "Are you always this wet?" with his hot breath fluttering on your skin.

Slowly, the memories began to come to you: how you fought and kicked and screamed as Logan tried to drag you away, him shoving the chloroformed rag in your mouth until you passed out gagging... 

Now here you were, watching him as he palmed his hardness in front of you.

"i thought X-men were good guys." You spit, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him touch himself.

He shrugs with a little smirk on the right side of his face. "I wouldn't call myself a good guy. Never have. Saving the world is one thing... but I think I'm owed a little something on the side."

You laugh at that, a bark of a laugh that signals the disbelief that he's actually speaking to you right now, saying such things. "I don't owe you shit!"

"Maybe not. Doesn't matter though, because I'm gonna let you go." Logan groans, stroking a long, hard drag down the line of his cock in his pants.

This makes you narrow your eyes, suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna let you go. Gonna let you make a run for it. Here." He tosses a knife to the bed, making you flinch but then you quickly grab it, eyeing him. He's still touching himself, but with an agonized sigh he lets go. You wonder if he was close... Logan stands up, opening the door to the small, one room cabin and letting you see the trees outside. "Half a mile west there's a road. Not used a whole lot but someone is bound to come by, pick you up. I'll give you a head start, and you can use that knife on me. You can kill me if you try hard enough. Little fighter like you, might even be able to get the slip on me."

You blink. This can't be real. "This is a trick, isn't it... you're gonna punish me for running, or, or for stabbing you..."

Logan shakes his head, gesturing out to where the sun was setting fast. "Nope, won't punish you for that. Just like a challenge, that's all."

"There's... there a catch, isn't there... something you aren't telling me."

For a moment his face is still, like he's trying to put on a poker face. Then, a smile breaks. "I've never been a good lair. yeah, there's something I'm not tell'n yuh, bub, but really, what choice do you have?"

As you rise from the bed, he stands back. You hold out the knife, and he keeps his hands up, palms towards you... his face was almost condescending... but what choice did you have. Once you back away several steps, you turn around and make a run for it. You weren't exactly sure his powers, but given his name was wolverine you were fairly certain speed was one of them.

"I'll count down from 100!" Logan calls after you, his voice starting to sound distant. "100... 99...98... keep running little bunny! 97... 96..."  You faintly hear the 95 before you're out of earshot, running as fast as your legs can take you through the woods. Jumping over logs and stumbling down hills, you run more than you have since your high school made you do a mile, your out of shape body struggling to take in oxygen. Tree branches smacked your face, leaves wet with dew, the little sticks drawing blood on your cheek but you don't dare stop, not for a second. 

Something zooms past you nearby, a rustling of bushes an the faint sound of '10' in your ear, before all goes still again. You're close, you have to be.

'5'

Shit, shit. You grip the knife in your fist as you try to pick up speed, tired legs carrying you as fast as they'll go but it's not enough.

Logan is in front of you, a broad smile on his face and hands gripping your shoulders to stop you. "One." 

You scream, stabbing him in the rib cage expecting him to shout in pain but instead he moans in pleasure. No time to process this, you kick him in the dick and shove him over, making a run for it again, but Logan grabs your foot, causing you to fall face first into the dirt and grass. Strong arms yank you, despite crawling as nothing, and suddenly you are under him. 

"No!" You try to get away, but he's too strong, too quick, pinning your hands down and he looms over you.

"Pretty little bunny... running so fast..." Logan cocks his head to the side. "Not quite fast enough, eh?" Leaning down, Logan licks a stripe up your cheek, tasting the blood on your face. "Tasty little bunny..."

Your hand with the knife continues to be pinned down, Logan bracing his entire weight on your wrist while he undoes his pants, freeing his cock from the restraints. The throbbing member lay heavy against your thigh, a size you can only guess from the feeling and for a moment you think he's going to take off your shorts the same way. Then, Logan placed his knuckles at the base of your shorts and suddenly there's a stinging, sharp pain running up your leg and to your waist.

"Fuck!!!" No one is around to hear you screaming, no one except Logan who thrust his fist out, tearing your shorts and underwear to literal shreds.

When cock is thrust into you, you can't even scream anymore as the sounds get lodged into your throat, trapped in there just as you are now, his body caging you.

"Fuck'n tight there, princess. Is that fear, or is that all you?" You respond with a slap to his face which only makes him fuck you harder. "Aha, I think that's all you, baby doll, you were soaking my fingers earlier. Creamy little pussy ready to squirt on a strangers hands."

"FUCK YOU!"

"You want me dead?"

"Yes!"

He releases your sore hand, but the knife still lays next to it. "Take your shot, why dontcha?"

Thinking fast, you grab the handle again and with a scream, you plunge it into his neck.

To your surprise he just grins broadly. What the fuck is wrong with him.

Again, again, again, you stab the knife into different parts of his body as he stabs between your legs, fucking with more more intensity, with loud moans, closer and closer to his release. His gruff pants in your ear mirror your screams, listening to Logan moan and groan and whimper as he ravages your helpless body when you realize... he likes it. He likes it and the wounds are healing as fast as you can cut him. 

"Pretty bunny..." He chuckles lowly, his hand gripping your sides so hard it feels like a pinch, your fragile non-mutant body nothing but a plaything for him. With a loud growl, Logan cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to fuck him cum inside you, streams of hot cum flooding inside you. How was he still hard? Movements begin to slow, but your exhaustion begins to take it's toll on you, giving up harming him and simply taking it. "That's it... that's my good girl. Give in to me, little bunny. Let me have you... I can make it so good." Logan thrusts up into you, hitting something so devastating and deep no one has before, his rough hand sliding to your center to caress your bud.

"I don't want it to be good..." You cry weakly, even as pleasure builds down in you.

"Sure yuh do... c'mon, pretty girl you can give it to me... don't fight it, it's useless. You're mine now, my bunny... cum for me..." Logan's demeanor changes, suddenly indulgent and begging, his facial hair tickling your skin as he nuzzles your neck. "Wanna feel it... Wanna feel my sweet bunny coming on my cock... becoming mine..." You can't fight it anymore, the thick stretch on him, his skilled hands, the sleepiness clouding your rational... and he feels it too. "There we go... that's my girl, all mine, huh? You're mine now my pet... yeah... all mine..." It was painfully delicious, the way he made you feel, how his hands seemed to know you so intimately... 

Then that chloroformed clothe was on your mouth again, his cock still buried hard inside you. You didn't fight this time, letting the release of sleep take you. 

Slowly, Logan began to grind his hips into your body again, his hands claw extending again as they slipped under your shirt. No cuts this time, only a few nicks before he shredded your shirt now, leaving you in tattered clothes as he felt you up. Logan's mouth was at your ear. "Can't have you fighting me this time, little bunny. I'm gonna get to know this sweet body, I'm gonna lean everything it likes..." He cups your breasts, tweaking at a bare nipple. "Gonna take good care of you."

As you fall asleep, you can hear a car driving nearby.

THANK YOU!!!!!

I am so excited to try out a new character!!!!!!

Unfortunetly, after I made the go fund me listed above my car's fucking starter went bad ;-; that'll be like $800. I'm struggling to get by. Please please pease consider making a donation or donating o my ko-fi or biy me a coffee all linked above!. If not, thats totally okay! Theres no presure.

If you are inclinded, please consider reblogging this post with my go fund me.

Likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appriciated!!!

I knew I'm new to logan but if you like OScar Isaac or Pedro PAscal characters, consider checking out my other work!! thanks!!!

Tagging those who expressed interest or who i thought might like?

No presure if its not your thing! Comment if you want more dark logan!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @reveric @wolverineswaifu @birbita @multiversed-daydreamer

love yuh!