#speaking of i need to take something because my whole body hurts real bad right now and i feel like im gonna pass out

[macabrevampire]

watching house md while in a lot of pain and just. understanding greg house. yeah man i'd be pissed too if i couldn't take my pain meds and still had to try to function without them

[luveline]

i love how you write roan 🥹🥹🥹 what if she sees reader upset about something (sad song or movie? not something super serious) and she cries because you’re sad and she doesn’t want you to be

ty for ur request ♡ fem!reader

Eddie lavishes like a king in the corner of the new couch. This is the life, he thinks, the sentiment strengthened by your foot warming under his thigh and Roan's entire body stretched out in his lap. 

He tucks her hair out of her face and presses a soft kiss behind her ear. He loves movie nights. A bowl of jiffy pop popcorn with extra butter and milk duds cools to his left, your body screwed up in a shape to his right. You're so endearing he's stopped being surprised by it, and Roan's his eternal love —he has the perfect girls for company every single day. 

"Eddie?" you whisper.

He and Roan both look at you. "Yeah?" 

"Does the–" You cover your mouth so Roan can't see. "Does the mommy seahorse die?" 

"You've never seen this movie before?" Roan asks. 

You drop your hand. "Well, I thought I did, but I guess I fell asleep last time?" You speak with your face turned toward them but your eyes on the TV screen, horror dawning in the pinch of your brows. "No way. No way!" 

What follows is a few long minutes of absolute silence as the movie progresses. The mommy seahorse, who's been sick the whole movie, says goodbye in a burst of colour. Eddie isn't sure if he loves watching something this sad with Roan this small, but he supposes she'll feel much worse than this as life goes on. Still, he hugs her nice and tight in case she needs it. She's been known to cry at movies: she cries every time the Part of Your World song plays in The Little Mermaid. 

Eddie's cried a couple of times with her. 

He's a little surprised when she tears up, though. Looking down at her with pursed lips, Eddie rubs the length of her arm, silky pyjamas cold under his palm. "It's okay," he whispers, pulling her to his chest. "Don't be sad, Ro, it's just a movie." 

Roan shakes her head, her shoulders shaking as she crawls out of his lap and into yours. You let your knee drop to accept her. Eddie's slightly offended until the TV screen goes white and the tears running down your cheeks shine in clarity. 

"Baby," he says with a snort. 

You laugh yourself as Roan sniffles in your lap. "Hey, what's the matter?" you ask her. 

"You're crying," Roan says. 

"You're crying." You sniffle and wipe her cheeks with your thumbs. "We're silly, huh?" 

Roan isn't perturbed by the movie, it's your crying that's affecting her. She does as you'd done, wiping your cheeks dry with her hands before enclosing your shoulders in short arms. "Don't cry, mom. It gets better at the end of the movie. They find the starstone." 

You sniff and laugh, your foot shifting from under Eddie as you fold yourself around Roan, almost protectively. "Are you crying 'cos I'm crying? Princess, they're just movie tears. I'm a softie." 

"She's a huge softie," Eddie says, lost for what to do besides sit there and watch. 

"Are you okay?" Roan asks. 

"Baby, I'm fine. It's only a sad movie. I'm okay, I promise." You smile widely. "See?" 

Eddie decides nobody is in any real emotional distress, grabbing the popcorn bowl. "You know," —his words stagger as he gets distracted digging for milk duds— "we should start watching other stuff if you guys are gonna fall apart. You're gonna have headaches and I'm gonna have to take care of you both. We could watch one of my tapes–" 

"No, dad," Roan says firmly. "No way." 

"Which tape? I love you, Eddie, I really love you, but I can't watch your bootleg of Live in Irvine again this week. I'm all Metallica'd out." 

"Hey." He holds his hands up. "Whatever." 

You and Roan share a guilty laugh. "Maybe I could watch it one more time," Roan says. 

"You just feel bad for hurting my feelings." 

Roan shakes her head, dark hair bouncing around her cheeks. "That's not true, daddy." 

He puts the bowl of popcorn on Roan's play table and leans back, arms over the backs of the sofa with forearms hanging down, cool. He raises his eyebrows at his pouting daughter.

"I– I actually like Metallica," Roan says, an arm behind your neck, her cheek brushing your cheek. 

You make a pleased humming sound and nuzzle your cheeks together. "Me too." 

Liars. "So we can watch it tonight?" he asks. 

You whisper something in Roan's ear. 

"Um, no. Y/N's too sad from the movie. I think you need to make her feel better, with, uh…" You whisper again. Roan's eyes widen with understanding. "With The Little Mermaid!" 

"Oh, awesome, so we're gonna cry all night?" Eddie asks. 

He gets up to put it in the TV. You drag yourself to his side in the corner of the couch and the three of you smush together into a bundle of warmth under a big throw blanket. When Roan cries during Part of Your World, you shush her and dry her cheeks affectionately. Eddie can't help laughing. He loves you both, but you're such gigantic softies it's unreal. 

"Would you still fall in love with me if I could speak?" you whisper. On screen, Prince Eric tells Ariel she can't be the one after all, her voice taken by the evil sea witch. 

Eddie can't see your face, his head resting on yours. Each word you speak vibrates up. "Of course I would." 

"My pick up lines were half the selling point," you argue. 

You're a flirt sometimes, he'll give you that. "I'd love you even if you had a fish tail instead of legs. Eric doesn't know how good he's got it. I'd miss your voice." He draws a short line down your arm with his marriage fingertip. "But you'd still be my Y/N." 

"That's Disney cheesy," you say with a scoff. 

But. You weasel your arm around Roan's front to hug him, too. Gentle, you press a kiss to the slope leading down from his neck. His flirting was cheesy for sure, and it worked like a charm. 

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

I’M STUCK ON THIS FUCKING PLANET. I’M STUCK ON THIS GODDAMN EARTH.

Tap photo for better quality

That’s right!! I’m talking even more about sinner bodies because I’m CRAZY!!! RAAHHH!! 🤪 SHES SO CRAZY WE CANT TAKE HER ANYWHERE!! 😝 it’s 3 in the morning and I can’t stop thinking about this goddamn TV.

I think Vox is genuinely the most fucked up character in this rewrite currently. Not really morally fucked up, there’s definitely worse people, but physical alterations in hell out of the main cast he definitely has it the worst. In my last post I talked about how Angel formed in hell and I want to go back to this because Vox did not form in hell as a TV or even a robot at all. He got formed on the road after dying in a car crash and was literally just this fucked up clump of wires and metal panels and had gross little robot hands and he had to make everything else himself and wait for his body to adjust to it, so he literally cannot regenerate normally. He didn’t even have a face yet or screen of any kind, just a little camera to see out of. If his screen shatters he needs to get a new one or if his body breaks he needs to get it repaired, thats why he’s able to upgrade his body and stuff.

And like yeah some tech sinners do just form as robots but Vox just is a fucking mess and I think about it all the time and thats why his demon form is all fucked up like that and I think thats partially another reason he hates Alastor’s ideals so much sometimes because hes like “technology bad!” even though he literally is also partially a tech sinner and hes just stupid but like without technological advancements Vox literally would have nothing like they wouldn’t’ve met, Vox would not have a company, etc, etc and thatd probably help a lot of people yeah like the Vees would not fucking exist but ignoring that, just on a personal relationship scale I imagine your “friend” being like “man I really hate the thing that gives you life and allows you to live a somewhat normal existence” hurts a bit.

Technological regeneration is a bit more confusing and hard to explain than biological regeneration since machinery can’t really “heal” in real life. The concept sounds almost bewildering, like you can’t cut a wire and have it slowly heal like skin would, you’d need a whole new wire. But Vox internally, the things that allow him to move and live how he does now, it’s the only part of him that he can heal, and to him, it’s still “defective”.

Vox is disabled mentally and physically; he has Autism, ADHD, and epilepsy, all of which he is unable to be medicated for due to his new body. These are all things that he hates to acknowledge and will become irrationally upset by if they are mentioned to the point he will actively to deny certain aspects of disability. Being a man from the 1900’s-1950’s his views on mental disabilities and mental illnesses are… less than uh.. “acceptable” for today’s standards. He often disregards slurs towards this being called slurs and insists that “They used to just be words” or “It’s a medical diagnosis.” yet still gets incredibly upset when he is ever called a slur that actually could apply to him. In a way he tries to come off as purposely ableist so that he doesn’t have to confront this aspect of himself that he doesn’t understand. His knowledge in technology or sharks or economics aren’t “special interests” to him, they’re just “regular things a man likes”. He can’t process what a hyperfixation is. He doesn’t know that it’s normal for him to be unable to speak on occasion or that certain textures make him severely uncomfortable. These are either seen as weaknesses or “average people things”. Aside from how terribly disabled people were treated back around the 50’s, he views the neurodiverse aspect of his mind as something that only serves to further push him from grasping the feeling of regular humanity again.

For physical disabilities, he doesn’t lie or deny that he has epilepsy, yes he has an intense disdain for mentioning it, but for very few people he is close with he will disclose this information to them privately. There are a very select few people that are aware of this and two of those people are Velvette and Alastor. This post isn’t really about diving into Vox’s epilepsy so I’m keeping this concise because I have another post to put all of that in. Hope you all enjoy the wacky art :)

The binary says “Trust us” for anyone curious

[yamamasjumpercables]

Animosity

Chris!Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing and some occasional boners

a/n: I’m finally back from the dead

For as long as You have been friends with the triplets, You always knew that Chris had something against You. He was Your biggest hater. You tried to show Nick a new dress you had bought, and there he was detesting Your whole existence. Whenever you spoke, there he was to interpret You with the same 3 phrases. That being “why the fuck are your speaking”, “doesn’t that big mouth of yours ever get tired” or “close your mouth or flies will come in”. Either way he loathed you. You, Matt and Nick don’t know where this hate came from but, all You guys knew it wouldn’t come in the way of your friendship. At first You were hurt by the comments, the cold glares and attitude. As time went by You started to find his hate, somewhat, amusing. I mean you know what they say if you have haters you must be doing something right, and in this case You were always right.

Right now You and the triplets were getting ready for a gala You had been invited to by one of your colleagues at work. You didn’t want to go alone to the gala so You decided to invite them including Chris, even though Matt and Nick were telling You that You didn’t have to invite Chris and one of them would stay home with Chris. Yet You refused to leave Chris out just because of his attitude towards You, besides You decided it would be fun to piss him off the entire night. Purposefully You bought a dress that looked most flattering on Your body. Your hair was down, and gold jewelry adorned Your neck and ears. Your makeup wasn’t anything over the top, You kept sexy but simple. Nick walked into his bathroom where You were getting ready, to tell you that they were ready to head out. “You look amazing Y/n, the baddest bitch here” Nick said clapping his hands excitedly. “Thank you, you look so amazing Nick” You say with happily. “We have to get going you guys” Matt says walking into Nick’s room to see what’s taking you guys so long. “Omg Y/n you look absolutely beautiful” Matt says covering his mouth in awe. “Thank you Matt you don’t look too bad yourself” You say smiling, then walking up to him to fix his tie. “We should hurry before big mouth starts yelling and pisses me off” Nick says rolling his eyes. “I heard that fuck face” Chris says walking to the almost crowded bathroom. “Can you guys hurry up I’ve been here for 5 seconds and Y/n is already making me lose my appetite” Chris says giving You a disgusted look. “If I’m making you lose you appetite then look away, oh my bad you can’t I’m to sexy I know” You say with a smirk on Your face, turning around shaking your ass a little. “You see Chris, you didn’t even need to say that she’s very pretty” Matt says coming to your defense. “Yea pretty ugly, now let’s go I don’t have time for this shit” Chris says scoffing walking out the bathroom. “I’m so sorry for him Y/n” Nick says putting his hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok Nick I know he’s secretly in love with me” You say putting your hand on Nick’s. “In your fucking dreams” Chris says stoping in his tracks. “Hmm looks like I’ll be dreaming real good tonight then” You say walking up to Chris, caressing his face. Chris attempts to swat your hands away, but you grab his hands and placed them on your waist. Putting your arms around his neck pulling him closer. “When you want to stop acting like a fucking cunt and an asshole, I’ll be waiting for you in your room, how ever you want me. It’s up to you” You whispered in his ear seductively, looking at him in the eyes as you walked out Nick’s room. “You good bro, you might wanna handle that” Matt says to Chris, addressing his massive boner. “Ye-Yea let’s just” Chris says coming back to reality, fixing his tie.

As Chris didn’t think this night could get any worse, he had to sit in the back with You while Nick and Matt were in the front. Since You and Nick were in charge of the aux, you guys decided to put the music on full blast. It was mainly some chill songs until, Partition by Beyoncé came on. Which happens to be You and Nick’s favorite song, You were feeling on your self in a sultry way, making strong eye contact with Chris. But a specific part of the song came on and You and Nick sung your hearts out. “Oh he so horny, yeah he want to fuck, He bucked all my buttons, he ripped my blouse” You and Nick both sang out, while you pulled down the strap of your dress just a little bit for a little tease (on the blouse part). “Handprints and good grips all on my ass” You and Nick sang, while you arch You back feeling on Your ass a bit. At this point Chris was getting harder by the second. Wishing he was just a the gala to get away from You. But he knew if You kept acting like this it was going to be a long night.

I’m sorry I have been gone for a while… But I’m back now and my beautiful wife @worldlxvlys gave me some inspiration for this fic (Anna is literally a goddess) but imma make a part 2 of this soon enough (Still don’t have a tag list, lmk if you guys would like to be apart of one if I make it)…

I love yall<3

[lunalikesalotofstuff]

so the mutant mayhem series...

look im happy to get another show and im open to watching it and i will give it a chance.

but some stuff in the trailers really rubs me the wrong way.

april saying "isnt your whole thing a costume" in reference to ...just their bodies is icky and im dissapointed her kinda being mean to them is gonna continue. like- its not an initial shock thing like with 2003 and 2012 april its just "sure we're friends but im gonna call out how different you are even though your WHOLE goal is to fit in and be accepted.". i like her design and her story seems interesting and i hope she gets a real arc unlike a lot of aprils but like- the comments are un-necessary and it feels like shes making fun of them instead of being a supportive friend. [if theres an episode where the guys get fed up and talk to her, possibly having a lesson about expressing to your friends when youre uncomfortable with what they do then ill be overjoyed because that message NEEDS to be in kids shows and it would clarify april just didnt know it bothered them and would tone it down because she doesnt wanna hurt her friends]

in a trailer the others got praise and when it was mikeys turn someone was like "oh what do you do?" and mikey doesnt have a real answer. as a mikey fan i just cannot stand the constant dismissal he gets. if the series is gonna expand on that and take it seriously im totally in though.

i didnt mind the movie artstyle. its not something i enjoy and it kinda gave me a headache in theaters but objectivly there is nothing weong with it and a lot of work and talent was put into it. the show style is...ehhh? i dont like it. i dont hate it. i dont really enjoy the color palette. its not appealing to me and an art style can really change how much i enjoy a show.

and why does leo sound so much older. i cant be the only one hearing that right? like i know thats fairly standard for the shows but the movie had all this hype about the guys sounding and acting their age so???

and structure wise i feel like this is going to feel more like kim possible and spiderman instead of tmnt? cause like ...a HUGE part has always been theyre a secret and they work in the shadows cause theyre ninjas and now theyre just in the open. im ok with change- all franchizes NEED to change and adapt but im not gonna get hopeful till i see it done well int he actual show

speaking of that this is a reminder i by no means think the show will be bad. i want it to be awesome and fun and make its mark like other tmnt shows and films have! i just had to get this off my chest cause it was bothering me. im sure the show WILL be good cause i havent watched a tmnt show i outright disliked yet. the trailers just rubbed me the wrong way.

[thefoxlady]

Some redesigns of Dr. Higgsbury and the Hunger Mime. I think they needed an update, I've even updated their backstories.

TW: Murder, Death, Insanity, Death by Starvation.

Dr. Higgsbury:

When Higgsbury moved in his new house, he was unsure if he would like it, but some science stuff won him over when he got to the attic. He got the house when he saw an ad on his way to college.

He suffered some dreams, or rather nightmares of a shadowy figure that looks like him. The shadow keeps showing him people who committed terrible crimes, all the while saying "These people are evil hearted... Disrespectful to anything that has a pulse."

"You know exactly how to get rid of them..."

Wilson begins to loose his mind the more he sees this shadow figure, both in his nightmares and in real life. He finally lost his mind, the shadow tell him to use science to get rid of the evil that plagues the earth. How? By performing surgeries, replacing the limbs with pig legs and having the victim's whole head covered by a pig's head. He would kidnap his victim after they he spiked their drink, he would then take them to his house, if someone were wondering why there's someone sleeping in the back of their car that he was driving, Wilson would say, "They had one too many to drink tonight, I'm going to take them to my house to sober up.". Wilson will then perform the surgery while they're awake, the next morning they would be found with their limbs replaced by a pig's and their being covered by a sewed on pig's head.

Hunger Mime:

Wes was mime who was down on his luck.

He was poor and hungry, he mimes to make money to pay for food. Despite all the bad luck, he saw that people can be good and could change with the right motivation. He helped a lot of people in Paris, the people, especially the children loved him... Who would want him dead?

One day he tried to retrieve and give a doll back to a little girl who accidentally dropped it from the window, he chased it to an alley, a woman and some men took him somewhere no one would see him again. He went missing that day, he was starving in a dirty, empty room with only a water dish. Wes tried to chew on bits of his shirt to numb his hunger, but it would always result in his stomach growling loudly and hurting him, he was suffering. He died of starvation and his body was found in a forest, people who knew him were shocked and saddened when the news of his death were made public. The people wanted to know who's responsible for his death and wanted them punished for their crimes, they got their answer in the most unexpected and disturbing way... The men and woman responsible were found dead with their abdomens cut opened with their stomachs ripped out, each of the victims had a message carved on their backs, it said "They Starved Me. -Wes". They confused and horrified, Wes was dead yet they were killed by him, How could this be?

A pastry chef who usually gives Wes food reported to the French police stating he had encountered Wes one night after closing, he said "I saw Wes, but he looked different... He was taller than any man, he had a sad look in his face, and I could've sworn I saw that he has sharp teeth and nails. He had this long tongue, he was constantly drooling, he didn't speak but he was making this croaking sound, I had leftover carrots on me and I gave them to this... Thing... After he ate them, he left. I was scared what he would've done to me if I didn't gave him those leftover carrots.". The people now believe Wes came back as a vengeful entity, they now call him the Hunger Mime and would carry food if they're in the forest he resides in or at night in the streets of Paris so they could be spared from being his next meal, if you don't have food on you or refuse to give him food, he'll rip out your stomach, eat your stomach, and leave you to die. Children and pregnant women are spared due to the fact he doesn't want to see a child suffer because of him and he doesn't want to kill something that isn't even born yet.

That's all I've got to share, I'm planning on releasing more Don't Starve: Urban Legends AU stuff. If the stories need more work, I'll try my best to make it work.

[colinburbleswithhappiness]

The Bastard Son & the Devil Himself Rewatch: Episode 6

Spoilers probably:

So Gabriel has been avoiding talking to Nathan…oh right. This is one of my favorite scenes! Nathan tries to talk to Gabriel and Gabriel’s so tight and angry, and then all of a sudden yelling. “I thought you were going to die!” And then he repeats it. Softer, more vulnerable. Like he just doesn’t know what to do with that.

I just love when people don’t have “appropriate” responses to things. Like, he almost died and you’re going to yell at him about it? But it feels very real. People are messy.

Everything Jessica does is so fucked up. Poor Max and Odette. (Side note: I guess Jessica must speak French? I didn’t catch it the first time but she’s only pretending to be Max’s grandfather and she speaks to him in French. Unless the shapeshifting somehow gives her that ability? Seems unlikely.)

And Gabriel has to help Odette die. Which…seems like something he’s done before? I wonder when. How many times?

They give her a flower crown, they put a flower in her hands…I’m gonna cry.

Crying for Ceelia too. That little girl hiding from the wolf. Man, I don’t even like her. I mean she’s a good and interesting character but I can’t really get past the way she treats Nathan in the beginning. It’s clearly abusive, it crosses a line for me, I can’t really like her after knowing she did those things to a helpless kid.

I really love this part where Annalise takes the poison out of Nathan’s body, too. She’s so scared of hurting him. She thinks her power’s all about destruction but it isn’t. It can be used for good. (See also her taking the gun apart.)

And then all three of them clutch each other’s hands...

Nathan thinking it’s his fault the council killed his mom...oh, Nathan. Ceelia does get a great moment here. She’s almost crying at first, she quickly pushes him on from talking about Wolfhagen, she still can’t stand to think about it. And then she’s just so done with Soul and the Fairborns. And Nathan asks her what to do and she asks him that horrible old list of questions but now something’s changed. Because he’s a blood witch and she’s accepted it. And she’s going to help him. Love it.

I feel bad for Kieran, knowing what’s coming. He tries to stand up for what’s right (standing with Bjorn in relieving Soul of command), but then he loses his nerve. This kid is such a tragedy.

Nathan asks Gabriel if he’ll help him die peacefully if he doesn’t get his blood and Gabriel just nods…and then Nathan has to make it a joke, lighten the mood.

God I love this scene. “So how I do I go about getting my name in your dumb book?” “They’re names of people who are important to me.” “What, I ain’t important?” Gabriel gives him the pencil, wordless. “There, now you won’t forget me.” “I wouldn’t”. The long look he gives him. He knows more than Nathan how hard it could be to keep that promise.

And then, “I need a drink.” Lol. Because things got too serious there for a sec.

How much of the heart do heart-eaters have to eat to get the person’s powers? When I first watched I kind of assumed it was just a bite or two because that’s all they really showed. But in fics I’ve seen Nathan have to eat the whole thing. What is the truth???

Oh yeah, and then Gabriel and Annalise dancing on the boat. In the rain. :) Making Nathan laugh. Beautiful little moment.

This show is so fucking good. I will cry if it doesn’t get a second season.

[ddontyyoukknow]

life. literally ike being taken my the tide. im good im bad im good im bad. its been weird because soemtimes there are days when my brain locks the good vibes into place and im happy for a few weeks up to a few months and other times the hapiness is gone as fast as it came. adn its so unpredictable. i dont know how to deal with it. i recenlty came out of a few month so feeling amazing. where i my dp was still resent but not something i focused on and now im in the gutter again. i cant quiet get ahold of my emotions. everytime i think of my brother being unkind to me in hurts a little worst. when youre in that statem of mind its like youre sticky to all the cruelty of the world and i think about my brother alot. how if i made more money he might want to visit me but right now he doesnt. how my dad is so hot and cold with me. how i need to treat him with patienc elike if he were a tempermental child. when he cant for the life of him figure out how to reach out to me and act like he cares. but there again goes the cultiral difference. he wants us to almost bow down to him but i dont think he is the end all be all of reason. i have my own opinions i dont wan to bow down i want ot talk back and make my thought s heard and not be treated like a fucking nusaince. you treated me like that for long enough but a shift of energy will decide how long that remians. and i hope. achange of enery will come soon. i want to be powerful and in control of myself a dn know deep in my core that noone can change me. i am the only one in control of me. no angry dad can bring me down. and when inm there all you did will be irrelevant. bcaie i will be where i ambecaise of what oyu made me go thougt adn o will understna dmy journey. and my body will come back to earth and i wont have to be dissociated anymore. and i can speak my truth i can do i as i please and i will be happy. and i can be that now. why not. and i will work the knots out of my brain and i will get there. i want ot be happy. thats all i want. im sorry you werent. i will be. i am removing your bad vibes from my history. i have been so string i know who i am and i dont care how muc hyou want me to calm downa dnhow much im at a lost for word and how scare din might feel i will rise to the occasion and i will be the person i know i really am. not a scared girl. a girl that walks in the world with ease and light and love and hapniess and confidence. i want to be me. take my squashed heart from when i was 5 years old and hold it in my hands and sew it back together. and pump it back full of air. and it will be mine. all mine. my story adn my life. not thanks to you, but despite of you. and maybe my little cousnis who are hurting the way your sibiling hurt them can grab their hearts and mend them as well. and hopefully they cna also be happy nad feel loved. and this whole mess of a dysfunctional family can all be forgotten. we can leave it all behind and jist be happy and remeber who we all really are. if not in life then for sure in death. i know at least that guarenteed, then , everyone will know and realize their real hearts were never broken and they were always ok. and at least in dealth they can find their broken hearts and i know at some point everyone will grba their heats and sew them upa dn put it back in their chests. and they will be happy and compassionate and full of love. i see it now. i think not only is it possible but most of them probably didnt loose as much of their hearts. and maybe i can learn to ask for help. i am going through this on my own. i would love to talk to my brother if he werent so judgemntal of me. i want to be love and light and ease and i know he will be kind t be sooner rather than later. i will try alchemy. and all will be well

[peroquenecesidad]

My dear, little-giant-beautiful little human 

I write you this letter as a manifesto of the deep love I have for you. 

Maybe it is bad luck to say happy life before your birthday but I only write these words to celebrate your life in this plane-universe 

And to celebrate our wonderful meeting, which has removed my whole body, from the tip of my toes to my head and heart. 

I am grateful to be able to share time with you, and to meet the paths of your soul, you are a wonderful woman, truly wonderful, expansive human being, human being of light, human being of joy and generosity. 

I know it has been days of storms and unbalanced energies, of a lot of conversation, and tiring conversations, I know. 

The truth, the truth, is that I love you, deeply, and with all my heart, I love you as I have not loved for a long time, in present and joy, and I am moved to know that I can live/share that feeling and state with you. 

If you ask me if I would like to spend entire lifetimes with you, I would tell you right now yes, I chose to be your partner for a reason, and it is something I would choose again.  

But for me, relationships are something that have to lightly accompany my steps through this life, they have to be calm and understanding and sometimes you can't have all this.  

I think we are not in the same emotional syntony, to love (and to love how it should be, calmly and without external noises). 

I don't know how much you are willing to give to really be in a relationship. To really be, in body, soul and presence, to be in understanding and communication... I don't know.... 

Your last actions perhaps speak to me of a different time.  

To be a couple you have to put things aside, and build a common “something” between our own individualities. 

Not everything is passionate and beautiful moments, that's what we have for sure. 

I think you have not closed the chapter of your past relationship, maybe because it is your first relationship and you are learning how and along the way mistakes are made.  

I know it is difficult to give final points, and especially if there is another person who influences in not closing that cycle. But I need that, and I think you do too, I need you to close your other relationship, to love each other in harmony and complicity... to close your chapter and give yourself to this other chapter, whether it is this one or with any other human being. 

And here are the decisions that sometimes we don't want to make for fear of losing. 

But I can't be with you having this unclosed relationship by my side. And that takes time, wisdom, maturity, and I think that at this moment you are not knowing how to handle both things and you are hurting me along the way, and it hurts a lot. 

This time that we've been talking about, I think it's more real now than ever and I realized that I can't be with someone who has a part of their heart somewhere else, and until that heals, you're not really going to be able to see me as a partner. 

Me, I feel ready to love... it has been three long years of self-knowledge, loneliness and deep learning and I am ready. But I want to do it right, and I want to feel reciprocity from my partner.  I don't want to feel these energy leaks, and deep pain in my heart... I don't deserve it, I just want to love, with my eyes closed. 

For now I am going to step aside on this, and if you feel you can close your other chapters and love freely, I will be here to love you- deeply and live a part of my life with you. 

But if not, I am also willing to let you go, with calm, love and caring. 

I'm sorry for not spending your birthday with you, it hurts, but I think it's for the best 

Te amo, deeply. thank you for making me feel this beautiful love. 

Take care of you 

[sminiac]

Piwon reaction to you randomly biting them?Please and thanks

💌 — THIS IS SO SILLY AND REAL I LOVE IT YES OFC I CAN!

⋆ Y. Keeho

“Girl???” Tries to chomp back at you but all he’s getting is air, competitiveness is thick in his blood so he won’t stop until he’s got you pinned down and a solid bite of your skin. Somehow turns into a whole thing, by the time you’re both exhausted there’s a plethora of bite marks all over each others body, some in questionable places, some you can’t even see because they’re hidden under clothes. Yeah… it’s a hard to explain when one of his members asks why there’s an irritated mark on your shoulder and why it almost looks like,, teeth ???

“Do you want ta’… maybe try biting my neck again while we’re—” “You’re weird, that’s literally weird? Of course I do.”

⋆ C. Taeyang

Has an oral fixation idc, if you land a solid bite on him he’s either whining until your two fingers are resting in his mouth or he’s lightly smacking at you, claiming that it’s not fair, usually he won’t stop until he’s gently nomming on the digits, his words muffled and slurred when speaking over them but he refuses to take them out, it all really depends on his mood.

“I think we’re even now Taeyang.” “I’m the victim here? This is compensation.”

⋆ C. Jiung

Dgaf, like- the most. Even after the first time you’ve bitten him he’s just like “okay cool” ??? And isn’t surprised the second time it happens, or when it becomes an almost everyday occurrence. The type to unknowingly feed into it too, which is so ???? Like he’ll pull up his sleeves or reveal skin just so you can sink your teeth into it, sometimes does it when he wants your attention, knows when you’re watching, waiting, so he’ll play along. Secretly loves when you’re biting his earlobe, makes him shiver, is a little concerned by how nice it feels but he doesn’t care to think about it too often.

“I’m starting to think you’re a cannibal.” “Would that be so bad?” “You did not just ask me that.”

⋆ H. Intak

Biggest crybaby ever, overreacts always and it’s almost unnecessary, like can’t you just get a good little nibble in when he’s being cute ??? You’re just expressing your affection ??? Why is he acting like you’re mauling him until your teeth hit bone ????? He’s definitely the only one to start picking up on it too, starts biting you back when you’re expecting it the least, a victim to cuteness aggression mainly, it starts with pinching your cheeks and rubbing your head/face to literally biting you.

“Ow! Stop biting so damn hard.” “You bite me all the time!” “Yeah! in soft areas, you just slammed by knuckle between your teeth ‘tak.”

⋆ H. Shota

You think he didn’t notice, already on your merry way out of his arms after nipping at them until he’s grabbing at your wrist, guiding it towards his mouth with more strength than he probably needed as he pulls you back into his chest, only your hand keeps you from clashing with him as he promptly bites you back. Probably sits there for a second, restraining you against him with his mouth still on you, the dull edge of his teeth leaving marks in your skin.

“You can let go now baby.” “It feels- wait, just one more time, please.”

⋆ K. Jongseob

He’s so used to it, just sits there and allows it to happen because he knows there’s really no way to prevent it. Either way you’re inevitably going to bite him, so why try to fight it? It definitely comes to a certain point where even his members don’t care to acknowledge it anymore, sometimes they’ll just walk by and see, only paying mind to it like ‘Biting him again’ before disregarding it. The only way he’ll really care to say something is if it hurts, but even then it’s a minor reaction, “Ahh, that one hurt Y/n.” Holds or presses the area you’ve bitten to your face, expecting a kiss in return for the fleeting moment of pain.

“Do you think I should buy you a chew toy?” “Why? You’re right here?” “Mm… true. I think I’d end up missing it anyways, I kind of already do when we’re travelling.”

ᰔ sminiac’s P1Harmony M.list

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

The Brothers Sun e2

Charles is wearing a cat apron that says it's a Purrfect day while he's casually chopping up a body😂

Division of labor😂

Bruce is honestly so relatable

I love how Charles is just like, it's only 7am, there's time for you to be involved in this😂

Charles struggling to zip the overstuffed suitcase meanwhile Bruce is having an existential crisis 😂

Bruce, whining: "I don't understand why this is happening. Why are you here."

Charles: "I'm here to protect mom."

Bruce: "Why does Mom need protecting? She's just a nurse."

Bruce's friend who brought them all breakfast, walking into a literal murder scene but all chill and happy to help, saluting Charles.

Charles, done with this shit: "Why the fuck are you saluting?"

Flexing muscles:"Cuz you're the fucking man. Sir."

Awww, Charles is in love with Churros 😂

Awww, Michelle's character looks so stressed🥺

I love that she got a reliable place to dispose of the body from an aunt's grandma😂

She really has a priority straight with saying that Bruce can't go dispose of the body because he has a very important test if you want Bruce is just like I am in no way in any shape or form in a condition to take this test 😂

Michelle's character: "Baby, get in condition."

The way the two are talking about Bruce being soft right in front of him😂

Bruce eating a Churro watching his mom and brother arguing in another language like it's a soap opera 😂 the way he only catches some of what they're saying 😭😂

Charles thinks he's in control but his Mama's like: nah, I'm the mother I'm the one in charge 😂

Charles can't win, he's being forced to get rid of a body AND drop off his brother at school 😂

"I could protect the family. As a doctor. You guys must need bulk orders of antibiotics or, or painkillers?" 😂

Charles is so done, especially with how Bruce was like, 'I'm a rebel.'

Bruce works for Lyft, not FedEx 😂

Oh god, Bruce is such a mood 😂

"hi, my mom sent me" mood

I thought Bruce got a dog for a sec😂

Damn the body's get eaten by the animals?👀

I do not trust this guy, especially because he just called someone to tell them about Charles

Bruce is literally me with how he's taking pics with the lizard 😂

Oh no, that can't be good, I doubt those are real police

Michelle's character walking through the mahjong place and kitchen reminds me of her scenes in Crazy Rich Asians

I'm guessing with how it's showing her making those hand motions repeatedly that it's some sort of code?

Bruce trying to bond with the brother he never knew 🥺

Annnnnd failing😂

Bruce: "why don't you just take a picture, instead of carrying around a whole head?"

Charles, speaking as if this is the most normal thing ever: "Because then I'd have some dead guy's head on my phone .

You know, good for the kid that her dad's got her a real dinosaur 😂

Fun, people in dinosaur suits😁

Wait

The dino people have blades!👀

Rip to the security who got killed by dino people

I love that Charles is scaring everyone with the head😂

Oh no, they can't hear what Bruce is saying!

This is your moment, my guy, let your improv shine!

Oh

Yeah, he's bad at it😂

BEHIND YOU! THERE ARE DINOSAURS!

Ouch, that's got to hurt his hand😂 (why is it something I would do?😂)

Ouch, RIP Spider dude, that had to hurt

The way that Bruce was already running away before Charles even spoke is such a mood and sibling thing to do😂

Charles watching his brother being chased by a dinosaur is so funny 😂 he's so done

Good thing all of those kids have headphones on😂

You know, the dino people screaming in anguish isn't very scary, and I love the writers who came up with it😂

Oooh, Charles is gonna be in so much trouble when the mom realizes he brought Bruce with him😂

Bruce owns Charles now, cause the mom will be so pissed 😂(the way he's 'saying someone's in trouble and it's you' is such a sibling thing to do)😂

Bruce: "let me tell you that shame that mom made you feel on that phone ain't nothing compared to what you'll do to you when she finds out that you forced her little baby to come with you. She will absolutely break you with passive aggressiveness."

Charles, shrugging: "Go ahead I don't care."

Bruce, staring dagger as he answers the phone

Charles: spins off road effectively scaring his brother into not tattling on him

Oh, Bruce's friend is literally the definition of a tattle tale (turns out the police are real)

Oh no, I feel like the girl, Grace is secretly an assassin, (I think she was from that Disney show bizaardvark)

Oh no, the lizard tried to eat Giant guy's head👀 it it's all good

Love that Charles said that the Churro guy is a genius 😂

Oh Charles, don't you know you have to check your outfit for blood before going on a college campus?

Wait the detective lady knows Charles?!

His eyes went all soft when he looked at the detective lady Alexis 🥺

I feel like Bruce let the lizard lose😂

Bruce is so me as the younger sibling, I too would tattle on my siblings to my mom, especially if they hit me😂

Their mom:"We don't hit family." *Proceeds to slap Charles*

Oooooooooooo, the hand signals were her saying big the shoes were

The way she got all sorts of information from people👀

Aw, man, Bruce's friend got kidnapped 👀

Charles totally loved Alexis

Awww, Bruce is going to his mama cause he's still upset 🥺

The dresser with the mirror looks exactly like one my grandparents have their room👀

That's got to be hard, knowing your parents in a way sacrificed one brother to become an assassin in order to spare the other the same fate

I love that she has a clapper 😂

Awwww Charles did steal his Mama's car to take his lil brother for his favorite treat🥺🥺🥺

I do not trust Grace one bit, it's like she knows exactly what he likes and what to say

Oh my god, there's just a goth girl watching him from the window 👀

Oh fuck indeed.

[slushiebonez]

damn they killed me from ur inbox...

dexter 0,6,8

Frfr top ten tumblr moments ever. Anyways HAHAHAH YES A CHANCE TO TALK ABT MY GUY (also sorry I took so long I had to go to a volunteer event)

0. - The first thing I think of when I see the character

Honestly? @/dexter-erotoph's art is a quick popup for me. I found his account when I first got into Spooky Month and it definitley helped enhance my initial levels of Dexter mania into the frothing torrent it is today. Seeing the Dexter Paws[TM] post in an urgent care clinic is still a core memory lol (Odie if you see this you rock dude :3). Otherwise I think abt how cute he is (lol), how tragic he is, and Warrior Cats in descending order. Something something murder cat connection idk man I connect everything to Warriors in my brain lol. OH and ratcandy bc im still obsessed with it

6. - A theory about them I think is unlikely

Hmmmmmmmmm this one takes a little thinkin, mainly bc people don't usually make alot of theories related to Dex lol. I guess I'd have to say the Dexter Velseb theory, I love the theory / concept so much and worm it into my ideas often, but in terms of "things that are actually likely to be canon" I feel like the Dexter Velseb theory is pretty low down. Won't stop me though

8. - A sad / evil HC for them

:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD YIPPPEEE I have. A lot lmao. A few of them like off the top of my head

- Before Unwanted Guest happened he was a dude who actually liked kids alot, but after everything he can't stand them

- This is a little niche, I like to think he got his scratch from his first ever kill, a neighborhood cat. It jacked up his eye bc he was messing with it, and later on the cat came to "apologize" to the boy but Dexter's needs had begun to become more intense around that time and it was messing with him enough that when he saw a small warm body to overpower he just kinda went for it without thinking much. He buried the cat somewhere in the woods and everyone just thought it was missing, meaning a bunch of missing pet posters that kinda haunted lil Dexter for a while. And then Dexter would end up on the missing posters himself, with people thinking he was still findable.

- My man did not have a good home life!!! Especially because I like to toy with the whole Dexter Velseb theory, I don't think Bob would be the most nurturing or even-tempered parent. I also like to think its one of the reasons Dexter's needs are such a big issue for him, Bob saw a little boy with psychological issues and instead of taking him to see someone he totally fed into and encouraged them

- Dexter is still sort of tethered to his body, he can't re-enter it because Moloch refuses to let him in but because of his death and the state of his body Dexter can't really pass on and keeps coming back to it. Imagine staring down at your own mangled body flopped on a morgue table watching a lady try to pull the teeth out of your head because she's made a sort of pet project out of your brutal death. And your own eyes are staring back at you with loathing.

- Speaking of body, Moloch taking his body hurt. REAL bad. I mean, he had extended hardened claws, teeth piercing through his mask, horns.... that definitely wasn't an easy transformation. I don't think Dexter got kicked from the body right away and could feel Moloch stealing his body and beginning to destroy it. I can't remember who made it but I remember seeing art of Dexter post-mortem where because the mask stayed on during his body reshaping it messed up his face real bad, imagine feeling your bones and muscles reformat but your head is basically stuck in a bit ziploc bag. Dexter got kicked out of the body pretty fast but the sensation sticks with him, and watching the transformation finish from the sidelines probably wasn't a good feeling

- This is a little more AU-ish but if Dexter got his body back I think it would be almost worse, I can't imagine being forced to live again post-mortem for the 3rd time would be pleasant mentally, and also his body is now ruined enough that it's impossible for him to return to his old life. Not just in an appearance way but probably internally too, a body somewhere between life and death is probably a bit rusty on the insides. So he's kinda stuck, bc he can't really get a new body and his old body isn't worth it anymore, but he can't let go of it

I like to bully Dexter alot as a form of endearment lol, but I'll cut a little bit of the bitter with something sweet - I like to think the cat in his missing photo is his pet cat, her name is Sasha and she helps that loser man calm down :3 I also like to think he collects taxidermy and tries to make it himself, some of it is a little botched tho lol

Anyways, thank you for asking!!! (And indulging me w/ talking abt Dexter lmao)

[nopomegranets]

two old friends

14 years ago there was a little girl, in a lunchroom

She was the only little girl in that lunchroom, and she knew this very well

Adults buzzed around her as though she were a tree in a forest

Bodies were near her, but none too close. She had the space she wanted

Her stomach, empty, lurched. She felt her throat close up

A sandwich sat in front of her. Plain, butter and jam. Never feeling filling, like a real meal. Sickeningly sweet and simple

--

I’m so sorry

A voice came from out of nowhere, two weeks later

It’s going to be okay. Hi, I’m right here.

Overly familiar, but kind, a goofy voice

The sandwich (this time tuna, speckled with dill and thought) moves, crust upper lip

Hi! You can eat me. I won’t hurt you. You need me to feel better

She looks around, can anyone else hear?

No one can hear, keep talking to me. 

You are a sandwich.

That’s right, I am. You’re very perceptive. 

Thank you, I learned that word last week. I think I am too. 

A sandwich?

No, perceptive. You’re funny. 

Thank you. I hope so. That would be nice if I were.

Well, I don’t think you have to worry about that.

…Why are you here, sandwich?

Why are any of us here? Why are you here?

I don’t know, a mistake I think. I don’t feel like it was on purpose. 

Maybe. Maybe we’re all mistakes. But not me. I was made for you!

Who made you?

A fast woman. I didn’t get to speak with her much. But she smelled very good. Like a campfire.

Oh yes, I like that smell too. 

You have good taste in smells. 

Thank you sandwich, I’m sure you’re good tasting.

I’m very tasty, thank you! You would like it if you ate me. I have little bits of pickle. 

You should eat me. I know you don’t want to. But I wanted to tell you it’s okay. You’re not hurting anyone. I’m right here. 

If I eat you, sandwich, then something bad might happen. I might lose you. You might make my stomach hurt and then I would lose you. And I can’t do that

I might make your stomach hurt. But I also might not! And doesn’t your stomach already hurt now?

Yes, it does. It hurts all the time. 

What did you do with the other sandwiches? 

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.

It’s okay, take a deep breath with me. 

One, two, hold it. Let go.

Lower your shoulders. What happened? I won’t be mad. I promise. I’m right here. 

I couldn’t eat them, and I had to throw them away. They made a loud thud at the bottom of the garbage can. Does that hurt your feelings?

No, sandwiches are happy to be made, and then we don’t quite care what happens to us. But we (I, at least, I can’t speak for the other sandwiches) do care about small girls who are scared of us. 

I’m not scared of you, you’re very nice. 

Could you eat me, then?

Not yet. Please don’t ask that. I don’t like the way that question sounded. 

Okay, I won’t. That’s okay that you don’t want me to ask that. I won’t ask that ever again. I’m right here. 

Thank you. 

Of course. What do you want to be when you grow up?

A meteorologist. Because they get to see tornadoes up close, I think. I love tornadoes. 

Me too! Although I am a little (eek!) scared of them.

I’m not scared of them at all. I think they’re cool. I want to be a tornado.

What would you do if you were a tornado?

I would spin around really really fast and destroy things. But I wouldn’t ever hurt people. Just things. I’d take one whole house down with my funnel. Maybe even a whole neighbourhood, with trees and everything. 

But where would the people go if their houses were wrecked by a tornado?

Oh, its okay, they don’t like their houses anyways. 

They’re bad houses?

Some of them. But most of them are just ugly. They don’t like their houses, and they get to live in a mansion after I tornado them. Besides, people don’t get mad at tornados, they let them do what they need to do and they run out of the way. But I wouldn’t hurt anyone at all, I promise. Even if I was an F5.

What’s an F5?

Its the biggest, baddest, angriest kind of tornado. You can’t get any bigger than an F5. They have speeds of greater than 332 kilometers an hour.

That sounds so scary!

Not for me, tornados like other tornados.

I think you’d make a good tornado. Everyone would be very scared of you.

Except for little kids. I would make sure they weren’t scared of me. 

That’s right, except for little kids. They don’t even know what to be scared of. 

What time is it?

I don’t know. I can’t read time yet, maybe ever.

That’s okay, you’re a sandwich. I can’t read the clock very well either. I hope lunch isn’t over yet.

Are you hungry?

A little. Maybe. I don’t know. 

Do you think you could have a bite? Maybe just a small one?

Maybe a small one. 

Okay, I took a bite. You’re a tasty sandwich. 

Thank you! I’m very proud of myself. 

I’m having another bite, is that okay?

Yes! Absolutely. I’m so glad you think I’m tasty.

I was very hungry sandwich, thank you. I think I’ll leave the crust so that you’re still here. Also I hate the crust. 

That’s okay! You can like what you like and hate what you hate. That’s what being a sandwich is all about. 

Thank you for being so nice to me.  I feel really nice all over, like I’m covered in sparkles. 

Can I tell you a secret?

Is it a nice secret?

Of course. Sandwiches can’t have bad secrets.

Okay.

I’m a magic sandwich. And because you ate me, you get to be magic too. You get 1 whole wish to make for the rest of the day. What do you want to wish for?

I wish that I’ll never get sick ever again.

Done, that was easy. Your wish is my command!

Oh no. Everyone is getting up to go outside. We can’t talk anymore. I’m sorry.

That’s okay, I really liked talking to you. I’ll see you again. I promise.

You’re a very, very nice sandwich. 

And you’re a very nice little girl. 

----

14 years ago, a little girl made a friend in a lunchroom

The friend said goodbye with a flop of its bread, and the girl wiped the crumbs off her corduroy pants

She steadied herself against the table and took a deep breath. She checked to make sure there wasn’t a trick, that she could stay upright

And went outside to play

[captains-simp]

can you do a fic where reader unintentionally breaks one of the rules by accident so she has to be punished but the punishment is being ignored by BOTH wanda AND nat and reader is uncomfortable with being ignored because it makes her feel invisible and like she's a ghost so like this is what happens, reader breaks a rule in front of wanda and nat but reader doesn't realize she broke a rule but wanda and nat punish reader without telling reader first, and they punish her by not acknowledging her presence and stuff then reader just breaks and starts crying and stuff, she's really upset until nat and wanda cave in and see what's wrong with reader because they didnt know that reader didnt realize she broke a rule and her punishment was being ignored by them

also nat is dom, wanda is switch (like wanda is sub to nat but dom to reader) and reader is sub also nat, wanda and reader are in a poly dom/sub relationship and dating

Oh my god is this ✨smut with a developed storyline✨?

Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff ~ 3rd Wheel

Warnings: debatable toxic traits, feelings of abandonment and unlove, fingering, praise, oral and hints of overstimulation

2.4k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You giggled as Sam made stupid sound effects every time he paused in telling his story. You were pretty sure the story wasn’t true but hearing him tell it was entertaining enough. He put his hand on your forearm as he laughed at his own comeback to some apparently ‘very real’ character in the story and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. That was until your other arm was grabbed and pulled you to your feet. 

“It’s late, we should go.” Natasha said curtly. You nodded and said goodbye to Sam with a tight hug and followed after the Russian as Wanda joined her at her side. 

“How did your meeting go?” You teased the redheads. Officially, what you had just attended was a party. Unofficially, it was a chance for Natasha and Wanda to gather more intel for a future mission that they had been working on for months. Tony, to no one’s surprise, was more than happy to help by hosting the party and it was just like any other to everyone else. You had missed your girlfriend’s company at first, but had eventually started socializing with the others and the night had flown by. 

When you were met with silence you assumed you didn’t hear either of their responses over the music so you sped up your steps slightly to stick close by. Once you got to the car you knew they were in a bad mood. It was one thing when one of them was mad but both of them was a whole other storm. Not that it was always bad. Sometimes they would take that anger out on you in the bedroom and you had secretly been dying to be fucked like that for a while. 

You tried to make conversation a few times, telling the pair about Sam’s story and how it was probably about as real as fairies but they still didn’t respond. Of course, you had no idea that these things were just making them madder and that Wanda and Natasha were communicating silently most of the time, discussing the meeting as they ignored you. You gave up eventually and gazed out the window as you fiddled with the fabric of your dress. 

Once you were home things only seemed to get worse. “I made dinner before we left.” You said as you looked under the grill to find that the three served plates were still fine and put them on the counter. You had cooked before getting ready because you knew your girlfriends were busy and were going to be hungry when they got home. You glanced at the two women to see Natasha undoing her girlfriend’s zipper and placing a soft kiss between her shoulder blades. You smiled at the tender site. 

“Hey, where’s my kiss?” You teased as Natasha started towards the bedroom but shouldered right past you. You looked to Wanda but she didn’t spare you a glance either as she strolled through the apartment to your shared bedroom. You watched them go with a dry mouth and dragged yourself to the bathroom where you struggled to undo the zipper of your dress before finally succeeding after five minutes of struggling and sore arms. One of the redheads usually did it for you before you could even think to ask.  

You stepped into the shower and tried to focus on the feeling of the hot water running down your body, hoping it would distract you from the dull ache near your heart. It didn’t work. You wondered if you had done anything to annoy them at the party but could think of nothing. With a disgruntled sigh, you turned off the water and stepped out of the safety of the shower. You quickly dried off and tiptoed to your now-empty bedroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you went back into the kitchen you found only one of the plates was left. You glanced over at the living area to see Wanda and Natasha curled up together on the couch under a blanket as they watched TV and ate the food you made. They could have at least warmed mine up. You grumbled to yourself as you put it in the microwave and made yourself a drink. You trudged over to the couch but Wanda extended her legs to cover the free space just as you were about to sit down. You looked up at them both but their eyes were still glued to the TV. 

You sat down tentatively on the armchair closest to the couch and started taking small bites of your food. You weren’t paying attention to the screen at all. Instead, your eyes kept flickering to the two redheads curled up on the couch together. They looked so warm and tender laying together. You wished so desperately you could be with them, but instead you just felt like an outsider. That had always been a big insecurity for you. Wanda and Natasha were both Avengers and you were just a normal citizen. You often wondered if you ever felt like a burden, the weak part of their relationship. You could never understand their lives the way they could, you could only watch. Usually, you would voice your concerns and insecurities to them and they would assure you to no end that they loved you more than anything. However speaking had gotten you nowhere that night, so you kept it to yourself. 

You sat in the living room for hours. You wanted to go to bed so badly. You were utterly exhausted and your eyes were starting to hurt from the lights in the room you wanted to be shielded from. But you were determined not to go until the other two did. You wanted to be curled up between them both like you always were. You wanted to feel safe and secure and most of all loved. 

Finally, Natasha turned off the television and stretched out like a cat on the couch before standing and making her way to the bedroom, leading Wanda by the hand. You put your uneaten plate of food on the side to deal with the next day, too tired to even think about it at that moment. The pair instantly dropped down into bed and Natasha held Wanda tightly as she rested her head on the Russian’s chest. You gazed down at them longingly but forced yourself into bed besides them. You reached out your hand to tug weakly on their shirts, desperate for any kind of acknowledgement but received none. You withdrew your hand and held it up to your chest as you watched the pair. How long had they been craving time to themselves? 

You slowly got out from under the covers and left the room without feeling their usual fond gazes on your back. You lingered in the hallway before glancing back and saw Natasha tracing circles on Wanda’s back. You gulped back tears and made your way to the spare bedroom where you slept alone for the first time in months. 

*

You didn’t get up until lunch the next day. You didn’t feel like doing anything, especially not facing your girlfriend. You wanted to stay out of their way to give them the alone time they so clearly needed.

When you had finally dragged yourself out of bed and into the hallway you froze. Wanda’s moans could be heard clearly from your bedroom followed by sharp cries of Natasha’s name. You stood rooted to the spot as the pain in your chest grew worse. Since they had so keenly invited you into their relationship. The pair had never once done anything sexual without you. At first you had been flattered and insisted that you were okay if they wanted to do things by themselves every once in a while but eventually you had grown used to how things were. You had grown used to being included in everything. 

Numbly, you made yourself a hot chocolate in hopes of it raising your spirits. Not long after you had finished, your girlfriends came wandering into the kitchen with a new glow. 

“Do you want a drink?” You piped up, you could at least be helpful. Wanda grabbed something from the fridge as Natasha took out a glass from the cupboard and spun around to kiss her girlfriend on the lips with a soft giggle. Wanda smiled against her and hummed when Natasha’s tongue teased the Sokovian’s lower lip. 

“I love you.” Natasha hummed and Wanda smiled with a blush as she said the words back. 

“I- I love you too.” You added and took a desperate step towards them both, holding out your hands to them but they separated and started to stroll back into the living room. You watched on as tears sprung to your eyes. They didn’t say it back. They always said it back. “Please.” You whispered though you may have well have been talking to a wall. You whimpered quietly and weakly made your way to the guest room where you closed the door and fell down onto the bed, not being able to stop the tears streaming down your face. You curled up on yourself and hugged your duvet as close to your body as possible, needing something to cling onto like a lifeline. 

You didn’t hear the door open through your muffled weeping. You did feel the gentle pair of hands on your waist and the dip in the bed either side of you. Your head shot up and you looked between the pair in panic, fearing they were going to tell you to go elsewhere for the day or even forever. Wanda shushed you softly and held your dampened cheeks in her hands. 

“It’s okay, honey.” Wanda cooed and you whimpered as you tried to enjoy what you assumed was the last time she would hold you. “We’re not going anywhere and neither are you.” You peered at her cautiously and then Natasha who nodded gently. 

“We’re sorry, baby. Sam was getting a little too handsy last night and you didn’t seem to notice.” Natasha explained carefully. You remembered the brief moment he had touched your waist and frowned at the memory. 

“And you know letting people touch what isn’t theirs is breaking a rule.” You nodded slowly as Wanda added on.

“So your punishment was being ignored by us so you could learn but we took it too far.” Natasha admitted.

“And we never told you what was happening. We’re so sorry we made you feel this way, sweetie. We love you so much.” Wanda said as she kissed you softly on the lips as Natasha lay down behind you and wrapped her arms protectively around your waist. 

“So so much.” She added. 

“Promise?” You asked and Wanda lay down to join you and wipe your tears away. 

“Always.” 

“Let us show you.” Natasha whispered against your neck and you nodded as she rolled you gently onto your back and began planting soft kisses along your neck, occasionally lingering on patches of skin to suck dark bruises into them. Wanda titled your head towards you and kissed you slowly, cherishing the taste of you and wanting to reclaim all that she could. 

Natasha’s hands started to wander down your stomach and landed at the hem of your sweatpants that she easily surpassed along with your panties. You gasped when you felt her fingers run along your folds and up to your clit. You bucked your hips and moaned against Wanda when she applied some pressure, all while the Sokovian started to retrace her girlfriend’s steps by running her hands across your breasts. Her thumbs brushed against your hardened nipples and she hummed against you. 

Natasha finally pushed two fingers past your folds and relished in the slick that coated them instantly. She curled them gently inside you and withdrew to start about making a consistent pace that had you melting beneath them both. 

“That’s it, sweetie.” Wanda assured in the most loving tone you had ever heard from her. 

“Taking me so well. Our best girl.” Natasha hummed and withdrew her fingers. You whined softly but shushed when Natasha brought her fingers up to Wanda’s lips and slid them inside. The Sokovian hummed in delight around Natasha’s fingers, eagerly licking her slender digits before retreating to start down your body, determined to gain an unfiltered taste. 

Wanda pulled your sweatpants and panties off completely and kissed up your thighs softly, taking her time in treasuring you just as Natasha had done with your neck. She gleamed at the sight before her and didn’t hesitate to lick a long strip between your folds. You mewled in Natasha’s hold as Wanda moaned against you. “Always so sweet.” She dipped her tongue inside of you and you clenched around her muscle with a gasp.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for us.” Natasha praised softly as she started to rub your clit with her free hand. You bucked against both their movements, feeling beautifully overwhelmed by it all. Wanda’s tongue flicked inside you and you moaned loudly into the air, tempting Natasha to quieten you with a kiss while your other girlfriend continued to work between your legs that were beginning to shake. 

“Please.” You whined as you felt your high approaching. The pair smiled at one another as they continued to please you. 

“I can feel you clenching my tongue.” Wanda mused.

“Go ahead and cum for us, baby.” You did as you were told without a second’s delay. You moaned loudly into the air as you shuddered against the bed and came undone on Wanda’s tongue. The pair helped you ride out your high and into another orgasm relentlessly. They didn’t let up, making you cum again and once more, leaving you feeling utterly exhausted and overworked. 

“That’s it, darling. You did so good for us.” Wanda praised as she fell down besides you and they both held you protectively. 

“We love you.” Natasha muttered softly and you smiled.

“I love you both too.” You hummed, enjoying the warmth of your girlfriends’ comfort.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @freewaysigns-underpasses @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90 @mrs-avenger3000 @nightingalxx @sky-kim-00 @yeeterthekeeper @didujustcallmedumb @ymzki-haruki @uno-x-uno

Join a taglist

[seijorhi]

To the Wolves

my (first) entry for the Deal With the Devil collab, because i couldn’t resist writing for Yakuza Getou <33

Getou Suguru x Female Reader

TW Extremely dubious consent, coercion, manipulation, threats, implied murder, smut, nsfw

“No. I- I won’t.”

Sitting comfortably on the old, worn couch in your cramped little apartment, Getou raises a single eyebrow, “Oh? Is that so?”

His voice is perfectly pleasant, the smile on his face a touch amused, but you’re not so naive as to believe that the question is anything but a generous offer for you to rethink your reply. A smart person would take it – since the day you’d first arrived home to find him waiting for you, Getou hadn’t so much as laid a finger on you. He had no need for guns or knives, never shouted or bullied you, his reputation more than enough to cow you into submission before he’d even opened his mouth.

Of course, once he had, the simple threats to your friends and family’s lives had made certain that you were more than amenable to his request.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he’d called it, as if there hadn’t been tears silently streaming down your face, your whole body stiff with fear. 

But that was the world he came from. Violence and ruthlessness, cruelty masquerading as kindness.

By all accounts, someone like you – a lowly admin assistant living a very boring, mundane life – should never have crossed paths with a man like Getou. The irony, of course, being that it was precisely because of your job that he’d been drawn to you in the first place. 

“I-I said no,” you stammer. “I’m not doing it.”

Getou sighs, long, pale fingers idly fixing the cuff of his left sleeve. “I had no idea the lives of your loved ones meant so little to you.”  

“Please, I-” you break off, biting your lip as your hands curl into useless fists at your side, “I can’t. Anything else, I’ll do anything, I swear it, just… please.”

Men like Getou aren’t the type to be swayed by pretty words or tearful pleas, but there’s an unmistakable glimmer of interest that flickers in his eyes at the offer. Casually, he leans forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and regarding you with a smirk. “So you’ll bring me the list of witnesses then?”

The barely audible hitch in your breath is enough to make him chuckle.

“No? How about those surveillance tapes, hm?” Smoothly, he rises to his feet and makes his way towards you. “Careful, little one, first rule of negotiation is knowing when you have something to bargain with. Don’t promise me what you can’t give.”

“Getou–”

He raises a hand and you quickly fall silent. There’s only inches between you two now, Getou’s taller, broader frame looming over yours. He could kill you like this, you realise with panic – reach out and wrap his hands around your throat and snap your pretty little neck before you could so much as scream. The tailored line of his jacket hides the gun he has holstered at his side, but Getou knows you're aware of its presence, have been since the very first time he’d broken into your home and threatened you. 

It’d take him only moments to draw the sidearm, even less for him to pull the trigger.

The walls of your apartment are thin, would your neighbours come if they heard gunfire? Would you, for that matter, if your roles were reversed?

Yet Getou makes no move for his gun, instead reaching for your chin, tilting it up with two curled fingers until you meet his gaze, “You understand, don’t you, that I make one phone call and that charming sister of yours and her fiance meet a very tragic, very untimely end?”

He pauses, waiting until you jerk a quick nod of assent before continuing. “You love them. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with prioritising the ones you love over everybody else.” His voice is gentle, but the words make you shake, dread rising from the pit of your stomach as the pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. 

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something to that, but even as you try, you can’t summon the words. The by now familiar scent of his cologne tickles your nose and invades your throat, the warmth of his touch burning through your veins. Your own heart hammers like a drumbeat in your chest, every cell in your body screaming danger, but you don’t run, you don’t even flinch.

Getou smiles kindly, and perhaps if you hadn’t seen first hand the aftermath of his handiwork you might be tempted to believe it. His spare hand reaches into his jacket, but instead of the gun you’re expecting, he pulls out his phone, the screen flickering to life with a swipe of his finger. “So tell me, before I make a call you and I both know you don’t want me to make, why you’ve suddenly decided that their lives aren’t worth your compliance?”

Nanami. Your boss’s face flashes to your mind, the odd, fleeting glances he’d sent your way over the past few weeks when he’d thought you weren’t paying attention. Your stomach erupts with butterflies, your cheeks unwittingly warming, but you just shake your head, “If I give you those files, you’ll kill them. You’ll hurt them.”

“Maybe,” he hums, “maybe not. It’s no less than those monkeys deserve, don’t you think?” He spits the word like it’s venom, the twitch in his jaw the only chink in his otherwise effortless composure. “You’re protecting them, even now.”

You make no attempt to defend yourself, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting him off, but Getou seems entirely unfazed, laughing coldly at your stricken expression.

“Your boss, the one with the perpetual stick up his ass; Nanami,” potent disdain drips from his tone at the name, “Always so morally righteous, sitting up on his high horse. You think he cares for you, that he’ll protect you when all of this comes out? And it will come out eventually,” he says, his smirk widening at the sudden pallor in your face. “At some point there’ll be one too many unfortunate coincidences, and the higher ups will realise that they have a mole in their ranks. Fingers will be pointed of course, but eventually even those idiots will figure it out.”

A knot tightens inside of your chest at his words, constricting until it feels like you can’t breathe. You’re shaking your head, eyes filling with tears, “N-no–”

“Oh, little one,” Getou murmurs, dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your distress. “Surely you realised that they have security cameras covering every inch of your floor? There was no reason to look before, but once they do…” he trails off, letting go of your chin in favour of brushing the back of his knuckles along your cheek. “They’ll throw you to the wolves.”

His voice is soft and cruel, belied by the gentleness of his touch, but it does nothing to quell the rising sense of dread inside of you. You want to believe it’s a lie, another threat meant to scare you into submission, but some deeper part of you recognises the truth in his words. 

Nanami, who’d told you once that there was innocence and there was guilt and very little in between. Nanami, whose office you’d bugged, whose trial only weeks ago you’d all but derailed with a few misplaced documents. You think back to the late nights shared in his office, bowls of ramen and case files scattered across the desk between you. You think of the rare smiles, his oddly dry sense of humour, the pleasant fluttering in your heart–

“You’ll rot in prison long before I do, and there is not a soul among that insipid bunch that would lift a finger to stop that from happening to you.” 

A soft, strangled noise leaves your lips as you fight not to sob, and Getou sighs, the corners of his lips twitching downwards in contrived sympathy. “Say the word and I’ll walk away tonight. I’ll still have to kill your sister – I am a man of my word, you understand – but I promise it’ll be the last you see of me.”

He slides his phone back into the breast pocket of his jacket, taking your face in both of his hands as tears spill down long lashes. “And when they come for you, you can tell them I threatened you, show them what little proof you have – if you have any at all. Maybe it’ll even make a difference,” he says. “But I doubt it.”

Every word is like a knife, slicing away at the raw, bleeding, vulnerable parts of you.

“Please…” It’s weak and desperate, your voice cracked and broken. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore; your sister’s life, for Getou’s mercy, or maybe just for him to stop saying such awful things. He must take pity on you though, because he sighs once more, his right thumb sweeping across your wet cheek to brush away silvery tear tracks. 

“I’m not a complete monster, you know. I protect what’s mine.”

And in one breath, everything screeches to a standstill and a trickle of very real fear creeps down your spine. There’s no mistaking his implication, not when he’s holding your face like that, his eyes dark and simmering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“W-what?”

Getou closes the gap between you two, a startled noise leaving your lips as his hips press flush up against you. “Don’t play stupid, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a warning, “It doesn’t suit you.”

One hand slips to your neck, the other curling almost possessively around your waist. There’s no room for you to move, to back away or free yourself. For a moment, neither of you speak, the heavy silence deafening between you.

Does he notice the way your pulse races under his fingertips as they circle your throat, how you’re shaking like a leaf beneath him? Does he want you afraid? A scared little bunny rabbit cowering from the gaping maw of the big, bad wolf? 

Judging from the bulge of his semi-hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of your belly, he’s not entirely unaffected, and for the first time it’s not Getou’s gun or his threats that you’re most afraid of. 

It’s the selfish, twisted want that glitters and glints in those pitiless depths. You’ve never felt so entirely at somebody else’s mercy as you do with Getou now, staring you down like he wants to lay you bare, claim you again and again for all the world to see. And you don’t understand. There’s a thousand and one questions running through your mind, your insides twisted up into knots. 

You know what it is he’s asking of you – though asking feels like a generous word when he can so easily just take – but none of this makes sense, not when he was threatening your family’s lives only minutes ago. 

As if he can sense the turmoil and confusion raging through you, he leans down, his lips ghosting over the outer shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I am a man of my word. 

His earlier statement rings through your head as you search his face for any sign of deception – you find none. But walking away means your sister dies. It means you’re left on your own to fend off the wolves when they find out what you’ve done.

Nanami might believe you. He might even defend you, but you’ve worked in the Prosecutor’s office long enough to know that duress isn’t the bulletproof defence people think it is, and for tangling with the likes of him…

You were screwed the moment he showed up in your living room, this- this is just the coup de grâce. The final damnation.

“Why me?” 

Getou doesn’t answer, but when he draws you into a kiss, his lips moving torturously slow against yours, there’s an edge of… something there, lying hidden just beneath the surface. And it terrifies you, more than his words and his promises ever could.

But when your back’s to the wall, what choice do you really have?

It feels like defeat when he takes you by the hand and leads you into your bedroom, ignoring the uncertain glance you cast over your shoulder towards the living room. You don’t want any of this, but you can pretend that it’s just… business if he fucks you out there.

Not in the bed you sleep in.

It’d be easier, you think, if it was cold and impersonal. If you cried and it stung and the only sounds in the room were flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing and an occasional rough grunt.

There’s nothing impersonal about the way he watches you strip out of your clothes at his command. His own join yours on the floor without much ceremony – his gun pointedly set just within reach atop your nightstand.

The first time you’d laid eyes on Getou Suguru, it was two months into your new job; a photograph pinned to a thick, heavy file Nanami had dropped on your desk. A surveillance picture, you’d gathered, snapped as the man was exiting some neon lit club downtown. And you remembered the smug smirk he’d had, staring directly down the lens of the camera like it was a challenge, but that wasn’t what had struck you most.

It was the flutter of interest that’d shot through your veins the moment before common sense kicked in. Tall and fit, with long, dark hair swept up in the wind, a sharp jaw and a handsome face, you remember thinking he was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Now, standing naked before you, bright, colourful tattoos inked across his torso, accentuating the muscles that rise and fall with every measured breath, you can’t bear to look. It’s easier just to stare at the wooden floorboards, the corner of the shagged rug you’d bought at a thrift store when you first moved in. Easier to pretend Getou isn’t pulling you closer once more, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along your neck, murmuring words that are lost to you entirely as his hands wander. You can feel it now, the heat of his body as he cages you in, his cock, thick and heavy and flushed nudging insistently up against your stomach.

You expect him to shove you to your knees, to force his cock down your throat in some archaic show of dominance before he claims your cunt, but he doesn’t. 

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers into your ear, teeth catching lightly on the sensitive lobe as you shiver. “Like you do when I’m not here, those pretty legs spread, fucking yourself on your fingers…”

The comment feels too familiar to be entirely offhanded, striking a chord of panic somewhere deep inside of you–

But it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter now.

You allow him to kiss you again before climbing onto the mattress. Like a good girl, you fall back onto the pillows, let your legs ease apart, wrapping your lips around two fingers and sucking for a brief moment before gliding your hand down between your thighs. 

His breath hitches, a soft curse sounding when saliva slicked digits spread your folds, the tip of your middle finger brushing lightly against your clit as you stroke your pussy. Your nipples harden and peak under the cool night air and you use your free hand to palm at your breast, pinching and teasing at the sensitive bud while one finger slips into the warmth of your cunt. 

The mattress dips, Getou climbing onto the bed, settling himself back on his knees, your spread legs either side of him.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. 

Your heart stutters, movements jerking as you brace for him to interfere, to touch you, but aside from nudging your thighs further apart to get a better view of your glistening cunt, he seems content simply to sit back and watch, his own hand lazily stroking at his cock.

Trying in vain to block him out, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the way your fingers feel between your legs, the pleasure–

 (Not the shame, don’t think about that, don’t think about Getou watching you debase yourself for his enjoyment)

–that pools in your core as you rub the shining pearl of your clit. It’s a familiar dance, a routine you’d normally help along with a glass of wine and a few faithful toys, but you don’t exactly have that luxury here.

And even with the rigid tension in your shoulders, the unwanted presence of a man you’re terrified of impossible to ignore, you can’t help the quiet moan that slips past your lips, the way your hips stutter, grinding against the heel of your palm as your fingers hit that sweet, delightful spot inside of you. 

Getou tenses at the sound, the last, fragile thread of his composure snapping–

He strikes fast. One moment you’re biting down on your bottom lip, your index and middle fingers knuckle deep in your dripping pussy, the next he’s braced atop you, one hand locked around your wrist, the other propping himself up. And as your eyes fly open with a startled cry, his lips crash against your once more – desperate and ravenous, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to taste you.

And you don’t fight it when he pulls your hand from your pussy and drags it to his crotch, his fingers entwining with yours as he wraps them around his heavy, throbbing cock and moans. It’s humiliating, the way he thrusts into your hand, tightening his grip so you’re forced to feel every shivery twitch of his dick while he sucks eagerly on your tongue.

This is the choice you’d made, the deal you struck. It’s too late to back out now, and even if you tried to… 

“I want you,” he pants, his lips glistening with saliva, an almost manic look in those dark, pretty eyes, “to ride me.”

… you’re not so sure Getou would let you.

So you allow yourself to be manhandled, lifted and situated across his lap like a doll. Hands braced on his tattooed chest, you lift your hips just enough for him to guide his cock to your slick entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length.

Every inch hurts. 

It doesn’t make it any less painful, the way Getou soothes you, his thumbs stroking gently at your waist as you whine and mewl, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he stuffs you full.

“Fuck– good girl, taking me so well,” he purrs.

You’re not sure if it’s shame, pleasure, or some sense of twisted pride at the praise that has your pussy clenching, fire racing through your veins when Getou experimentally rocks his hips upwards. And if your cheeks weren’t already burning, the lewd moan that escapes you when the head of his cock hits your g-spot would certainly do the trick. 

Ever observant, he wastes no time capitalising on your slip, lifting you up just to drive you back down onto his length at the perfect angle. You shudder around him, keening out a cry that has him groaning in pleasure.

There’s no illusion of control here between you two.

You might be the one on top, but Getou’s grip’s too tight, guiding every roll of your hips against his, his own rising in time to fuck his cock deeper into your warm, velvety cunt. And somewhere distantly you recognise that this could be a thousand times worse. How easily he could change the narrative in a heartbeat, flip you over, force your face into the pillows and fuck you like a dog until you’re gasping for air. He could use you, hurt you, probably kill you without ever needing to touch the gun he’d left on your nightstand – and you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping him.

But he doesn’t. Lying back against your pillows, dark hair falling from his half up-do, cheeks flushed from exertion, Getou’s attention is wholly fixed on you - on your face, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he hits somewhere deep inside of you that has you seeing stars, on your tits, the way they bounce every time you sink back down onto his cock.

His eyes are hooded, dark and intense, searching for every hint of pleasure he’s drawn from you. You gasp his name, fingers digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering so deliciously around him – and he loses that last little bit of his self control. 

He jerks upright, one arm wrapping around your waist to anchor you to him as he braces himself with the other, and before you can so much as gasp his mouth is at your tits, hot tongue laving at soft, supple skin there.

“Suguru,” he growls, hips snapping feverishly against yours. 

“Suguru,” you parrot, head lolling back as heat coils tighter in your core. 

You’ll worry about the consequences later, when he pulls you boneless and sated into his arms and you feel his heart thumping at your back as he kisses you and tells you to sleep. When tomorrow you arrive at work and Nanami stares a beat too long as the love bites scattered across your throat, no doubt wondering why you won’t so much as look at him.

For now, you settle for pulling him closer, gasping as you chase that quaking, blissful end.

[spencersawkward]

*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 

"you should bring one of your other friends." 

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 

"I thought that was just me." he says. 

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 

"yeah?" 

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 

"I could hear your breathing change." 

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 

"I wanted to say goodnight." 

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 

"now I can't because you made it weird." 

"how did I make it weird?" 

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 

he definitely has a concussion. 

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  

"hi." 

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 

"Y/N, I'm really fine." 

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 

"sounds like a nightmare." 

"it is." he cracks up. 

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 

"oof." you wince. 

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 

"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 

"you already said that." 

"shut up." 

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 

"whatever. you care about me, too." 

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums. 

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 

"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 

"like?" now you're intrigued. 

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 

your heart swells. 

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 

"I'm in love with you, too." 

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod. 

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 

"I'd say so, yeah." 

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 

never like this. 

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 

"mhmm." 

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 

"I'm a virgin." you say. 

Spencer frowns. "really?" 

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 

you collapse fully, him still inside. 

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 

"we should try multiple times." 

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 

"yeah." 

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​