#they make me completely insane. in case you couldn't tell

[queerofthedagger]

catch your breath

[Curufin/Finrod | T+ | 200w | ao3]

Inspired by this incredible art by @magicinavalon thank you for always making me worse bestie ily <3

They are rare moments, sacrosanct. Stolen away only ever in the deep of night, between an exhale and its inevitable conclusion, sheltered between heavy sheets and brittle secrecy.

All the more, Finrod cherishes them for it—Curufin soft and pliant, half-asleep. His sharp, merciless tongue for once idle, his body sated. Fingers tangling into Finrod’s hair, not a warning or a reminder but something else, something almost gentle. Something honest.

It is only ever in sleep or that hazy space between that Curufin curls into him like a closing bracket, a tantalising promise that dissolves come morning. Like he is something real, something that Finrod could hold onto if only he dared, if he found the right words, the right cypher, the right moment.

Finrod knows better. The firelight splays golden across them, and he listens to Curufin's breathing. Curufin sleeps and Finrod keeps himself awake—counts the breaths, traces scars, mouth to the clever head of his; holds onto the moment as if it will let him do so any more than the calamity he shares his bed with.

The firelight gleams like Laurelin, and Finrod ignores the dark shadows gathering in the corners of the room, already waiting.

[rosiesmuts]

The Temptations of Jennie Kim

BLACKPINK Jennie

Words: 4,000

A/N: Boo! 👻

Jennie Kim is a pure unadulterated bitch.

Obstacle one is making it past the bouncer; having your name on the guest list makes that an easy task. Obstacle two is the sea of people; a VIP wristband solves that little inconvenience. Your expected prize for completing these side quests is a night of dancing, ending with divulging in the salacious body of a world famous idol. The light at the end of the tunnel is anything but. Obstacle three is something you couldn't see coming. That world famous idol has already found her seat, only it's on the lap of another man.

Your mind goes a million miles a minute trying to figure out a plan:

1) 'I should go up and confront her.' No, causing a scene wouldn't be good for anyone.

2) 'Fuck this I should just go home.' No, I can't let her just win so easily.

3) 'Fuck it, I'm already here, might as well grab a drink.' I guess this is the winner.

Probably not the best plan, but the one you've chosen.

"Don't tell me you're obsessed over her too."

An unfamiliar voice. Your eyes follow the voice, finding yourself face to face with a beautiful woman. It shouldn't be a surprise, this club is crawling with them. Too busy wallowing in your pity to notice her join your table and too late now to do anything about it.

"Huh?" Admittedly not the most suave response, but it's the one that comes blurting out.

"Jennie. Half the guys here are just sitting here staring at her, what's so special about her anyway?"

"Are you really surprised? BLACKPINK is a pretty big deal. Besides I want staring I was just-"

"Look at yourself, you're even sneaking in little peeks while talking to me."

Her hand is placed under your chin, forcing you to finally take a good look at her. You start to speak but she cuts you off.

"What’re you drinking?"

"Whiskey."

It's rare to see a woman take control. And here you were, sitting face to face with one. She flags someone down and orders you a fresh drink.

"What's your name?" You regret your lame choice of ice breaker the moment it's said out loud.

"Unimportant. Let's just have some fun and see where it leads."

Maybe there is a god. So far nothing you've said could be constituted as smooth, yet here she was, still giving you a chance.

Where things led was more surprises: first, a dance. A hot body pressed close and shaking, accompanied by a mind clouding cocktail of scents. Your eyes dart all over her: the glow of the mysterious woman's pale skin under the multicolored lights; her plump lips; her toned midriff.

"Still thinking about Jennie? I think you've got enough room to squeeze me in."

Both her hands come to rest at your hips, gently pushing yours forward and squeezing your body closer to hers. Your eyes lock, the music from the club fades out, and you find yourselves with your noses an inch away. This insanely hot girl, not the one you intended to spend tonight with, but not the worst thing you can think of right now. The tip of her nose brushes yours and her hands push forward one last time, the kiss can only be delayed a second longer.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Jennie Kim has some nice timing. Just when you were about to give into this other woman, there was a tug on your shoulder and you're spun around–Jennie Kim's face, contorted with a mixture of anger and jealousy.

"You. Step the fuck back, he's not yours." Jennie shoves her hand out to your impromptu date, but that was apparently not an adequate barrier to keep her away. The girl comes up and wraps around your arm, not allowing Jennie to steal you away.

"He was until you got in my way."

"In case you didn't hear: step the fucking hell away." Jennie is nothing short of livid. People have stopped dancing, staring at the unfolding scene. Your new date notices the attention.

"Fine! He's not worth it anyway." And just like that your new acquaintance storms off, her hips and the smoke trailing from the bottom of her black dress being the last you'll ever see of her.

"Walk. Right. Now." Jennie drags you towards the hallway, likely intent on either berating or maiming you somewhere in private. In any other scenario it would sound like the fantasy of every man in South Korea, but right now you know it's bad.

A private room behind the dancefloor, a much better place to be killed and your corpse dumped than in front of hundreds of witnesses. She shuts the door with a slam hard enough you think it might shatter and locks it with an unnecessarily loud click.

"Who the fuck was that? You've only been here two minutes and you're already on top of another woman?!"

"Hey, hey, fuck you Jennie. Do you know what I saw when I came here? After you invited me? Oh you were totally there, sitting on another man's lap."

"That's not the same."

"Not the same my ass. Can you even begin to explain what it is then? No of course you can't. Because you're a spoiled fucking idol who does whatever the fuck you want."

You turn to leave, but are pulled back and receive a rough slap across the face. There's no pain, only the sudden red color filling up that side of your vision. She did it again. This time it brings with it the burning sensation. A stinging radiates across your cheek, an angry mark that burns more as the adrenaline fades.

Then in almost cliche like fashion you grab her face and slam her into the nearby wall, returning her slap with an aggressive kiss. Jennie doesn't try to pull away, in fact she gives just as much as she receives. If her jealousy made her slap, her frustration makes her kiss harder, her teeth digging in slightly at her efforts.

"Someone is still obsessed with me hmm~?"

"Fuck you." The reply is snarled out through the tears in your teeth.

"Why don't you? Make sure everyone out there knows who you belong to. You weren't even interested in that slut anyway. All you could think about was me."

Any rebuttal was silenced the instant a hand traced the outline of the bulge forming in your jeans. No words need to be said; she's right, there's only her. Her face, her smell, her voice. Jennie bites your collarbone through the shirt to try and get a rise and boy does it. A firm hand groping her behind and pulling her into you, meeting the hardness growing in your jeans. Jennie chuckles, enjoying the reaction.

"Do it. Go ahead."

Jennie fucking Kim. The girl of your dreams. The girl of your nightmares. You've fallen into her trap. What's happening right now can only be described as karma's cruel payback, an attempt to dangle your greatest desire right in front of your nose–before a final humiliating insult is slapped on it.

"You little bitch." Jennie taunts you, unraveling her flirtatious intentions as her skirt rides higher and higher along with your patience. "Go on. Put me through the wall. Pull it out and fuck me as hard as you can."

It would be too easy, wouldn't it? Giving her what she wants after what she did. Instead she's dragged to the couch and bent over you knees. Jennie yelps in surprise, before realizing what's coming to her.

SMACK.

"I didn't say stop." Jennie responds after feeling the forceful slap at her backside.

Another. Jennie cries out, before letting the sweetest sounds come tumbling out of her mouth. Your palm raises once more, pauses, and then swings down and impacts against the exposed skin. A large pink spot forms on the exposed skin as a result and you're starting to think Jennie is actually getting turned on.

"P-please."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

Her panties are brushed to the side and two fingers plunge in and begin exploring without any warning. Jennie squeaks and curls up at the sudden and bold invasion, but it doesn't take long before those two fingers find the sweet spot and stimulate a cascade of pleasurable electricity. In and out they go, aided in their efforts by the squelch of their occupant's excitement. The couch rocks as Jennie arches and bucks wildly, alternating between sporadic whimpers and full on screams of delight.

"I'm so close...so so close..."

Your fingers pull free then another smack against her ass again, interrupting her moment of bliss.

"You think you deserve to cum Jennie? Hmm?"

Jennie answers with an arch to her back, a long, sensual moan that turns into a low pitched growl.

"Yes...Yes...just let me cum please please."

She's grinding at the air, her desperation on full display. You're just a few seconds away from finishing her, of making this cute bitch cry out and go rigid as waves of pleasure radiate all the way from her groin to the rest of her body.

"Feel that pressed against your stomach Jennie? I think you need to suck it. Prove you deserve it."

Her feet meet the ground as she kneels between you legs, and with a final lustful glance, begins to pull away the zipper to your jeans. "You're a real fucker aren't you? Fine, I'll show you."

Down goes your underwear, tossed to the side of the couch, and up Jennie comes with the heaving package in her face. A tiny lick along the bottom of the shaft and then a more robust and adventurous one the entire length. No preamble this time, only the sudden heat and wetness as the girl with a history of petty remarks envelopes your member, coiling her tongue around the sensitive areas and sinking further into your lap.

This girl, Jennie Kim. How can she be so talented at such a crude act? The walls of her mouth shift in a thousand ways as she draws a throaty groan out of you, her tongue expertly knowing all the ways to drive you crazy. This fucking bitch, going deep, purposely drooling all over it, and looking up in satisfaction as she gags and chokes. Up and down she goes, swallowing and sucking back a mouthful every single time she rises. The picture perfect idol, loving nothing more than a throat full of cock, a wide streak of mascara under her eyes and spit all over her face.

The room grows ever hotter, the look in Jennie's eyes begging, imploring for you not to hold back. You sit upright and clutch onto her hair, fingers locking as tight as possible to guide her, taking charge of her bobbing head, sending yourself all the way up to your pelvis. Her arms are limp, her face is a mess, you've reduced a famous singer and model to a panting wreck, and that sight is almost too much.

"Fuck my mouth..." the pleads of the famous superstar when you let her up for air. Her request is granted, her hair gets pulled and the momentum carries your pulsating member all the way to the base. Inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter until the tip of her nose touches the pubic bone and her jaw is stretched as wide as possible, the outline of the member embedded into her throat.

The unholy gags are the hottest fucking thing ever. And the little flutters, her struggle not to cough, the spasms. Jennie Kim, proudest bitch alive. Choking and gagging on your cock, no thoughts in her brain of anything else but to please. She loves it, she wants it. More, more, more, always more, begging with her eyes the only way she could.

With a heavy gasp, you finally let up, letting her burning lungs draw air. While she is a coughing wreck, her face slick with tears and saliva, the thought that fills the forefront of her mind is exactly what's about to happen. The thrill, the idea, the exhilaration, she can't contain the giggling smile.

Jennie was a bad girl, touching herself while you fucked her face, showing off her fingers covered in her own juices and licking them clean. This woman was going to be the end of you, that smirk.

"You and that stupid ass cock." Jennie takes matters into her own hands, straddling your lap, lining up the tip. She's in control, now she'll decide just how far you'll sink into her.

"Dumb fucking whore." Your fingers wrap around her delicate neck. Her eyes widen, not in fear, but in excitement. They darken, her pupils dilating, the clear response to the aggression is reflected in a quickened pulse under the flesh. It isn't surprising the more forceful you get, the wetter she seems to get.

And holy fuck it feels so fucking good, Jennie's lower lips engulfing your tip. The walls of her cavern part and pull you deep within her, her breathing changes pace and volume, whimpering and panting as it sinks in further. She's warm, she's welcoming. Every inch is a bit tighter, the friction causing your heart rate to rise, and her arms, encircling you in a vice grip, coaxing a tighter hold on her throat. You can almost see the lightheaded effect it's having, the subtle shifts in her vision, the dream like daze that accompanies such euphoric sexual bliss.

Up and down Jennie bounces, the tempo of her breathing just a second out of synch, every moan coming just a second later. You don't try to hide your own pleasure either, groaning with a volume only a centimeter away from yelling and definitely noticeable beyond the walls. With a firm slap to the ass, her pussy responds in the best possible way; squeezing tightly for a moment and sending a pleasant shiver down your body.

Jennie fucking Kim. Her tightness, her perky tits, the fucking supermodel and worldwide heartthrob, riding you. That's a story to tell. The sight of this gorgeous bitch bouncing up and down like her life depends on it, the sound of flesh colliding reverberating throughout the room.

Her cries of pleasure come louder, with no sign of the fun ending any time soon. Another thrust and her eyes roll to the top of their sockets. The adorable scrunch in her nose, the contortion of the expression of carnal pleasure, the euphoria right after. The small smirk in the corner of her lips and the grinding of her hips into yours. She's close. Her face gives that away. Her walls pulsate, and if that doesn't sell it the pitch change of the moans certainly do. Her noises shift in timbre. Whines and loud whimpers, the sudden erratic nature.

There's no stopping her now, it's out of your control, and it's fucking beautiful. Jennie fucking Kim, cumming on your lap. Her thighs begin to spasm, a waterfall of juices spilling all the way down to the floor, pooling around your ankles. That fucking face, a cacophony of ecstasy. Then with one final, powerful groan, she suddenly stops. Her eyes shoot open and she curls up, freezing and grinding away. You pull her hair back, forcing the perfect idol to bare her neck and shriek, as her orgasm consumes her senses, her legs thrashing about and toes curled into their arches. Jennie fucking Kim came, her face red and a smile creeping upon the ends of her lips.

It's not over, not even close. Jennie's face a mask of desire, her breathing deep, still needing more, the short, panting breaths catching the tiny pieces of her hair waving across her face.

"Fuck me like you mean it." Jennie goads you on. Your hands wrap around her tiny waist, fingers digging into her flesh, and you start thrusting. Up into her body, down into her lap, each of her downward drops meeting a upward thrust, your hips meeting hers halfway. In no time her squeaky noises are echoing against the walls, your pelvic bones colliding hard, both of your bodies jerking about as you throw everything into each pump. Her eyes turn dark, a drunken gaze. Fuck yes, those lips curling back into a naughty, crazed smile.

"You can't fucking resist it can you?" Jennie screams the question, feeling your hands force her up and slam her back down with your hips surging forward. Her whole body lurching backwards from the impact and then snapping forward from the following motion. Another one, the smack of flesh meeting flesh resounding once more and the squirt of liquids spraying the air and wetting the sides of the couch. Jennie no longer cares, letting her body get fucked and then roughly jammed downwards and impaling herself repeatedly, filling the room with the loud slaps.

"You're nothing but a fucking whore aren't you?" You say it directly to her face and as expected the deprecating talk turns her on like nothing else. A genuine laugh followed by a growl and a "you want this tight pussy all for yourself?"

And another smack, a spank and a squeeze of her delicate ass. Her neck tilts backwards. Yes! Look into those deep pools, her gorgeous, intense stare. Losing control, that face, her mouth, it's open and wet and covered in saliva. That cute kittenish tongue sticking out of the edge of her lips.

Another thrust. Jennie's body flies forward from the impact, a lustful grin stuck on her face, burying your face in her small tits. Her chest jiggles with each pounding, a single moment of freedom followed by an instant of being engulfed in their softness. Those perfect mounds of flesh, enough to drive any sane man or woman mad with obsession, bouncing inches from your eyes, sweat coating their supple surface. Her giggle erupts and she sees that dumb smile plastered all over your face. Her nose rubs against your own. The stare is intense.

"We really fucking hate each other huh?" Jennie teases then goes in for a kiss. A sloppy, messy affair, her nails dig into your back, leaving a series of scratches as her pussy tightens around the engorged member within her. She's cumming again, the contractions drawing out another series of grunts.

"That's right, keep your dumb cock buried inside, you fucking love this tight pussy."

Oh how far this idol has fallen, the foulest mouth coming out the prettiest lips. Then she whispers in your ears to hold her hips tighter and fuck her harder, and fuck did you deliver. Her throaty groans filling your ears, a crescendo and a rapid beating pulse under your palms. You're close, this little superstar making sure you're as deep as you can be and clinging for dear life.

Jennie's hands wrap around your throat, squeezing, choking the life out of you, your vision blurring, and at the same time she's squirting a second wave and shaking violently. Her hips never stop moving, fucking herself silly. She doesn't stop, the nasty smirk has returned and a mumbled string of 'fuck fuck fuck' under her breath.

Jennie fucks you. Those perfect abs, her slim body, the smell of sex radiates all throughout. You're getting lightheaded, this cute piece of ass a violent whirl of raven hair and painful grip. The harder she orgasms, the harder she squeezes your neck. Then, stars start filling your field of vision and your vision goes white, the pulses start firing. Sick sadistic oxygen depravation brings one of the hardest orgasms in your life. That twisted smirk of the psychotic woman, the evil in her gaze as the heat fills the pit of her belly. She feels it, your load splashing inside of her womb. As you release, so do her fingers, the blood rushing back to your brain not a moment too soon.

Her expression, oh how proud she is for her conquest. You couldn't look anywhere else, this perfect devil in front of your eyes. The cute, tingly and erotic feeling flowing from your groin, it never stops and only grows, the continuous shots, emptying everything you have into her. This little fucking bitch, controlling you until the very end.

Jennie fucking Kim sits satisfied as you gasp for air, a mixture of confusion, satisfaction, and pleasure overwhelming your body. That beautiful little smirk, her hips rolling about, enjoying your final twitches before everything softens.

"See, now tell me that wasn't worth the wait."

Jennie collapses forward, a content sigh, a murmur in your ear about how her body feels. Your legs and feet tingle, a sort of numbness and buzz from the powerful waves of euphoria. Jennie stretches like a cat, all while nuzzling against your neck.

She leans in for a kiss, soft, gentle, uncharacteristically kind. Fingers thread into her hair, your palm resting against the side of her neck. She's warm, and tired, the once energetic and brash girl now settling down, almost vulnerable.

"You know why I keep coming back to you?" Jennie seems almost kind, running her hands through your hair and looking at you with loving eyes.

"Must be my big cock." You tease her, pinching her bum, and stealing another kiss in the process.

"Of course you can't be serious for a single fucking minute." Jennie shoves her shoulder against yours. "No you idiot. When we fuck, it's so fucking good. And look at you. Trying to act all tough, but when I tell you to fuck me harder you do just that. And when I tell you just like that you don't change pace for a moment."

The affection, her soft words. Jennie Kim loves to act hard, to show herself off. There's the world's most famous pop star, snuggled into your shoulder. Her finger tracing along the outline of your chin, the last few beads of sweat dripping down her forehead and her eyelashes. Jennie almost looks sweet, smiling down upon you. That signature gummy smile, the tiny dimple on one side. How can someone so rough, have such a charming side?

"Give me your jacket fucker."

Now this, this was much more of a Jennie thing to say. What a cute and silly request after something as passionate as what the two of you did. Jennie's sweat soaked body. Your brain is a fog, still lost in the moment, struggling to take the demand seriously, still looking at those flawless thighs, now tinged pink.

"I can't leave this place looking like this. You're taking me home. Don't think I'm done with you yet." The look in her eyes, that mischievous glimmer. A girl bent on devouring you. Her knee pressed against your crotch drives you back into reality. "Did you not get the fucking memo? Hurry the fuck up."

There is no shortage of nerve in this girl, and fuck if her confidence and commanding tone isn't doing anything for the part of your brain in charge of desire. If anything, you know she's not exaggerating, she still isn't fucking done. Not by a long shot.

It'll be another long night, the same pattern of anger and lust. Spoiled fucking idol Jennie Kim, turning you into a fucking puppet. Letting you do the strangest things to her in the middle of the night. That bitch. That perfect little devil.

And you wouldn't have it any other way...

[godsfavdarling]

Yellow

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader words: 1.7k summary: Spencer just came back from a tough case and you and him indulge in some adult activities, but during it you find yourself feeling a little anxious. warnings: bondage, edging, overstimulation, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, use of safe word, aftercare, dom! Spence, (tell me if I forgot something)

You and Spencer have been dating for a few years now, and somewhere along your sexual journey, you both admitted that exploring rougher sex is something you'd like to try. Things started out easily with activities like blindfolds and tying you up, while still maintaining a sense of tenderness and love.

From there, you experimented with choking, which you enjoyed, and found even more pleasure in having your hands around Spencer's neck. Your boyfriend was also very eager to explore the world of edging and would often have you begging and crying for release before finally letting you cum. And he was also more than happy to let you have him wrapped around your finger.

You didn't understand how he was able to do it. How was he able to hold himself back from giving you what you wanted? He was patient yet greedy. If he wasn't edging you for what felt like an eternity, he was on a mission to overstimulate you. Using not only his mouth and fingers but also toys, he'd have you shaking and crying, begging for him to stop.

In order to ensure both of your safety, you always discussed everything in detail and established safewords or signals for when communication might be difficult. You settled on the simplest system of colors: green if you wanted to continue and everything was good, yellow if you wanted to pause or change what you were doing, and red if you wanted to stop completely.

None of you had ever used the safewords, except for green. Spencer often asked for you to check in and confirm that everything was okay.

One night, when Spencer returned from a very long and tough case, he wanted both of you to indulge in one of his favorite activities: tying you up. You were more than happy to participate and help him take his mind off work. You loved making him feel better and enjoyed seeing him lose himself while he had complete control over you.

As soon as he came back home you both discussed what he wanted and you said that you were okay with everything. He tied you up like that before and you enjoyed every moment. You couldn't wait to repeat that night. 

He asked you to get naked and sit on the bed, and you complied, awaiting his plan. He entered the bedroom with a couple of ropes in his hands and skillfully began to wrap them around your body. He positioned your hands behind your back, securing them with the ropes around your breasts to ensure you couldn’t move them.

“Is it too tight?” he asked.

“No, it's okay,” you confirmed, and he continued. He instructed you to kneel on the bed, and he proceeded to tie your legs together. You could feel yourself getting wet, with him still in his suit and you completely naked before him. His tender yet confident touch drove you insane, even though nothing had happened yet.

“Now, lay down on the bed, face down, ass up,” he said sternly, and you obeyed.

Your face pressed against the sheets while your center was up and waiting for him. You tried to shimmy your hips, seeking some friction, but he quickly intervened.

“Stop that,” he commanded.

“Sorry,” you replied.

“It's okay. Someone’s needy.”

For a few minutes, he simply stood there, his gaze fixed on you, taking in every inch of your body. Despite his lack of action, your inner walls were already clenching with anticipation, and your breathing grew heavier with each passing moment. You felt an overwhelming need for his touch like never before.

As he stood beside you, you noticed the tent forming in his pants. He was likely just as affected by the situation as you were, yet he showed no outward signs of it.

Suddenly, his hand was on your back, trailing lightly down to your ass and then your thighs. His caresses elicited a moan from you, causing you to instinctively squeeze your legs together. He undoubtedly noticed but chose to ignore it.

Next, he firmly grabbed your ass, squeezing each cheek a few times.

As he finally gave in and stroked your wet folds with only one finger, you couldn't help but whimper.

"So wet for me," he whispered, his gaze fixed on your pussy. He sat beside you, continuing to stroke your heat lightly and slowly, his touch moving from your entrance to your clit with barely any pressure.

"Please," you pleaded, your desire clouding your ability to articulate your wants.

"Please what?" he asked, his voice teasing.

You whimpered again, unable to express your desires clearly. All you knew was that you wanted to climax, and you wanted him to be the one to bring you there.

He began to play with your entrance, teasingly circling the tip of his finger before pushing it a little further inside and curling it. Adding another finger, he placed his thumb on your clit, still maintaining his gentle touch, yet you felt like you were on the brink of falling apart at any moment.

But just as you were on the edge, he stopped and pressed his face against your center, giving it one long lick with his tongue.

"F-fuck," you moaned, your voice trembling with need.

He placed both hands on your ass, squeezing more firmly now as his hot breath washed over your folds. Watching how wet and desperate you were for release, he took a few deep breaths, the contrast of hot and cold air only fueling your hunger as he teased you with his slow pace.

Finally, he put his mouth on your clit and sucked, causing you to moan in ecstasy as the vibrations ran through your body. His tongue danced skillfully over your nub, sending shivers down your spine as you felt yourself nearing the edge. The knot tightened in your stomach, your moans becoming shorter and more urgent, signaling to him just how close you were.

You prayed silently that he would let you cum in his mouth, allowing you to ride out your orgasm against his face, feeling his lips against you as you reached the peak of pleasure. You longed for him to lick up every drop of your release and then kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

But just as you were on the brink of ecstasy, he stopped abruptly, leaving you groaning in frustration. How much longer was he going to keep you waiting?

Before you could gather your thoughts, he unzipped his pants, releasing his throbbing erection, desperate to finally feel you. He wasted no time, standing behind you and filling you completely. As he slid in effortlessly and your walls clenched around him, he moaned in pleasure, relishing the sensation of being completely engulfed by you.

Pulling out and thrusting back in with a quick pace, he leaned in to kiss your spine, his arms wrapping around your waist as he maintained a steady rhythm. "You feel… so… good…" he murmured against your skin between gentle kisses, his hands finding yours, still bound behind your back.

"Spencer," you moaned, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He grunted and gasped, his hands tightening on your hips as he buried himself deeper in your core, grinding against you.

But suddenly, a surge of emotions overwhelmed you. It all felt like too much, and you struggled to catch your breath, not in a good way. Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered his name, your voice trembling with unease. “Spencer…”

"Yellow" you whispered, and he immediately pulled out, concern etched on his face as he appeared before you.

"Is everything okay? What is it? Do you want to stop?" 

Tears streamed down your cheeks. 

"Hey, it’s okay," Spencer said, gently wiping your face. "I’ll untie you, okay?" You nodded and allowed him to guide you to a sitting position. As you sat on your heels, he skillfully worked the ropes around your body, your breathing evening out as you tried not to feel foolish for interrupting.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"About what? You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m glad you told me," Spencer reassured you.

"Yeah, but I was feeling good… before… earlier, and then just… I don't know what happened."

"It's okay. I just want you to feel good. I'm happy you told me that it didn’t feel right anymore."

With your hands now free, you hid your face in them while Spencer gently helped you to sit on the edge of the bed and untied your legs. Then, he inspected your skin for any signs of marks from the ropes.

Once he was satisfied, he cupped your face and whispered, "I’ll bring you some water." You nodded and curled up on the bed, glancing at your wrists and ankles - relieved to see barely any signs of the ropes. Thankfully, Spencer knew what he was doing, and you hadn't been tied up long enough to leave big marks.

When he returned with a glass of water, he handed it to you and draped a blanket around your shoulders. You took a few sips while Spencer undressed, discarding his clothes and throwing on a T-shirt.

Sitting beside you, he wrapped his arm around you, offering his comfort and the warmth of skin-to-skin contact. You sat together like that for a while, his hand resting on your knee, silently reassuring you that he was there for you and would do anything to make you feel better.

"I'm sorry," you whispered again.

Spencer looked at your face. "I'm not upset… or mad, okay?" 

You nodded. "I don’t know why I said yellow. I thought maybe… I don’t know."

"Did you maybe get overwhelmed?"

"Yeah… I think so…"

He kissed your temple and hugged you tighter. "I'm glad you told me to stop. I always want you to tell me if something is wrong. I'll never get upset. I promise you that."

"Okay… thank you."

"How about a bath? To clean you up and maybe help you feel a little better? And if you said yellow because you still want to finish tonight, we can continue later, only if you’ll want to, okay?"

"Okay. A bath does sound good," you smiled softly.

[springseasonie]

Unravel Me | LHC (M)

Forced proximity, Haechan x fem reader

Summary: Haechan loves chasing you, but you hate it. You've rejected him so many times, but that just makes him come back stronger. One night, he takes it too far, and the both of you end up locked in a tiny room together after trying to set the record straight. You tell him you hate him and would never date him, let alone fuck him, but is that true?

Warnings: sexual content, tiny bit of dubcon elements, dom Haechan, unprotected sex, pull out method, degrading, bit of a pain kink, spanking, choking, pacing is a lil fast in this one, proofread but may still contain errors

Word count: 4,1k

Song recs: unravel me by Sabrina Claudio

A/N: Happy 300 to me!!! I'm already almost at 400 followers already. I really appreciate that you guys like my writing so much so this is for you guys and for me a little too. Hope you enjoy!! Feedback is loved and appreciated 🤍🤍

"Haechan stand up," you said through gritted teeth.

"No, I'm not gonna stand up."

People were staring at the both of you, confused looks all over their faces. Haechan was on his knees in front of you in the middle of a banquet begging you for your attention. He asked you out multiple times on multiple occasions, and you always rejected him. You truly weren't interested and wanted him to move on, but this time he's taken a new low.

"Is he proposing," you hear someone say.

A shiver crawls up your spine, now feeling more panicked than ever. You took him by his collar, lifting him off the ground swiftly. You had a blank look on your face as you took his hand and pulled him out the hall trying to stay calm. Walking out doors to the back of the estate, you let out a frustrated sigh. Your eyes shifted, seeing that the both of you wouldn't be the only people there. Too many people would hear the mouthful you're about to give him.

Haechan followed you with a small smile as you dragged him around the estate. He knew what was about to happen and he loved it every time it did. Every time you told him no, it made him want to go back and try again stronger and harder. You always said you didn't like him and couldn't stand him, but if that was the case why hadn't you blocked his number yet? Why did you keep responding to his messages and flirting? Haechan always felt like you were holding back, so maybe this incident would be the tip of the iceberg.

You were still walking around looking when you noticed the private office of the house was cracked open, without thinking you pulled him into the small space, shutting the door quickly behind the both of you.

"What the fuck is your problem," you spat.

Haechan shrugged, giving you a look of indifference. "You said in order for you to date me, I'd have to get on my knees and beg."

"I didn't mean it literally Haechan! Are you fucking crazy or something," you whisper yelled. "You know what? I tried to be nice, but now you're just completely insane. I don't fucking like you. I don't want to date you. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?"

Haechan looked at you with a blank face. "I think you're lying."

You squinted at him frustrated, scoffing at his words. "Lying about what?"

"I think you do like me," he protested.

You let out an annoyed groan, throwing your head back. "And why the fuck do you think that?"

"Because you would've blocked my number a long time ago," he started. "You wouldn't have pulled me in here in private to tell me to stop if you didn't like me."

"Well you know what.." you reached for the door knob, grabbing it as you looked at him. "Now I'm gonna leave, so you can be alone." You twisted the knob expecting the door to open, but all you got was nothing. You twisted it again, pulling it harder but it still didn't budge. Panic started to sleep in as you kept repeating the steps over and over with nothing changing.

You were locked in a room with Haechan and no one knew. Not only that but it was on the other side of the estate. You turned to him, being forced to look at his mocking smile. "The door is locked."

"So shouldn't you call someone," he inquired.

"You're right," you sighed. You pulled out your phone and called someone you knew was there, but they didn't pick up. You called again, but the same thing happened. The third time you called, the call was immediately dropped. You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the top corner. You had no bars and you were pretty sure he knew this.

"You let me drag you over here knowing I would have no service," you grumbled. "You're evil."

"I'm not evil. I just let you act freely," he claimed. Haechan stood in front of you with the most smug expression you've seen yet. His hands were in his pockets, leaning on the door frame that the both of you stood in front of. You glanced at his neck, realizing that he never fixed his collar that you messed up when you dragged him off the floor.

Just then is when you realized how small the room was. It was a bit dark, the only thing illuminating the room was the moon light and the small desk lamp that was on. You watched him as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a bit, gulping at the sudden action.

"Well we're probably gonna be in here a while so we might as well get comfortable right?"

"Whatever," you grumbled. You walked to the chair in the corner of the room sitting in it and crossing your legs. He was right, the two of you were gonna be in that small, stuffy, dark room for a bit so there was no need to keep your heels on either. Quickly, you kick them off your feet, sighing at the relief you were given.

Haechan sat on the desk, leaning on his arms that were now being him. You wanted to pretend to be busy on your phone or something, but there was no use when you couldn't even use it, so now you were forced to sit there with your arms crossed staring at a wall.

"You know you can talk to me right? We don't have to sit here in silence."

You scoffed, turning your body away from him in the seat. "I don't wanna talk to you."

Haechan laughed softly, licking his lips as his eyes scanned over your body. He loved messing with you, getting you angry just to curse at him. You always held yourself in so much regard, never getting angry or losing your cool with most people. But for some reason he bought those feelings out of you, even in places like this.

You had to stop letting him get you angry, and you were going to stop it for once and for all in this very room.

-

It had been about 2 hours already and you were sure no one was looking for you both. You haven't even heard any noise from outside the door and it was already 11:30. You were beginning to think that you'd be there till the morning. But even if that was true, you still wouldn't say anything to Haechan.

He figured out the game you were playing when you wouldn't respond to him after a while, leaving him to talk to himself. You were really stubborn and he knew that, but he didn't think you would be this bad. But even when you were mad at him he couldn't get the thought of all the things he could do to you in the room. Take you and fuck you over the desk. Or rip your dress off and fuck you against the window. Maybe he could just spread your legs in the chair you were sitting and just eat you out like there was no tomorrow. Your legs did look good in the dress.

"Can you stop staring at me?" That was the first thing you said to him in a while, the annoyed look forever stuck in your face.

"I'm sorry, you just look really good tonight." Haechan smiles to himself seeing how obviously off put you were by the sudden compliment. "You're not good at hiding your facial expressions."

"Stop talking to me."

"As if you want me to stop talking," he replied, giving you a dry laugh. You shot him a glare, but he looked so good at that moment. You don't know how, but his hair was a bit disheveled and looked like he unbuttoned his shirt a bit more.

You wanted to say something but you couldn't. He had a response for everything. You couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand his witty mind or how he laughed at you. You couldn't stand how he would smile at your anger or lick his lips every time he saw you. The way he would tease you just to make you squirm. You couldn't stand the way his hands would brush against yours sometimes. Sometimes you wanted his hands on you, sometimes you wanted his soft lips on yours. You wanted his body against yours, holding you tight as if he would lose you.

Haechan was so observant, and for some reason you forgot this when you crossed your legs and squeezed them tight. His eyes went from your face to your legs quickly. "What was that about?"

"What? I can't cross my legs now," you snapped. You responded a little bit too quickly, almost like you were caught doing something you weren't supposed to. You looked over at him, breath hitching when you see the way he was sitting now. His legs were open leaning back on one hand while the other was ghosting over his zipper.

"If you wanna fuck me all you have to do is ask."

"Oh please, I would never in a million years fuck you," you said rolling your eyes.

"Well it's looking like you want to right now," he snickered. "We wouldn't have to beat around the bush if you weren't so uptight."

Something in you snapped when you heard the word uptight. You stood up, walking to him with anger. You stood directly between his legs, a scowl overtaking your lips. "I am not uptight. I've worked too hard and too much to ever let myself be called uptight by anyone, especially a man child like you."

Haechan tilted his head, lids dropping as he glanced at your glossed lips. "Don't you ever get lonely," he asked out of the blue.

"What are you talking about?"

"You aren't good at hiding your emotions," he pointed out. "I saw you staring at all the other couples earlier. I know you're lonely."

"I am not lonely," you argue. "I'm perfectly fine by myself, thank you very much."

He raised a brow, not believing your words for one second. "When was the last time someone touched you?"

"W-why do you care?" You didn't mean to stutter, but the mere thought of it was actually starting to drive you insane. It's been a long time. You never meant for it to happen that way, it's just been because of work and family drama that you haven't really been able to find anyone. You've just been so tired and exhausted, sometimes you couldn't even be bothered to touch yourself.

Haechan couldn't take it anymore, being so close to you and you still pretending you didn't want him. He put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him and the desk.

"Haechan stop," you said, shocked. You uncrossed your arms, pushing at his chest to get out his grasp, but he wasn't budging. You gulped, the feeling of his soft hands on your skin showing in the cutouts of the dress making your head spin. And he smelled so good, did he always smell this good? Maybe it was the lack of sexual attention, but you were starting to lose your mind right about now.

"You don't really want me to stop do you?" His quiet, warm, nothing like the usual mocking he took with you. It made you wet, and you didn't like that. His hands moved to your lower back, rubbing circles on your body.

Your heart was beating out your chest at this point and you just kept getting wetter and wetter with the way he was talking to you, looking at you, just being near him was enough. You didn't realize how touch deprived you had been, but now you're too deep to get out. Your mouth went dry trying to fish the words out your head. For the first time in your life, you're completely speechless.

"I'll take that as a no." Haechan moved his hands back to your sides, raising them ever so slowly till his thumbs brushed the underside of your chest. "I can feel your heart beating. Fuck that's hot."

You stood there completely still letting him touch you. He was so close to you, you could feel his breath on your skin. You couldn't help but let your eyes flicker to his lips, they were so pretty and plump, and probably really soft.

"You wanna kiss me don't you," he whispered, leaning into you. His mouth hovered over yours the perfect amount, lips brushing over yours lightly. "It's okay, just admit it Y/N. You wanna kiss me. You wanna fuck me."

Gulping, you shook your head, but Haechan was quick to see how your brows furrowed. "No.."

"I bet you wore this pretty dress just for me didn't you," he accused, laughing dryly when you scoffed. Haechan trailed his hands down your body again going directly to your ass, gripping it hard, but not too rough. "You want me to tell you what I want right now?"

"If you were man enough, you'd just do it." You were completely caught off guard when he planted a firm smack to your ass smiling and biting his lip. You let out a gasp, fingers taking a soft hold of his shirt. "H-haechan, don't do that," you stuttered. You wanted to not like it, but you did. You liked it a lot and you wanted him to do it again. At that moment, you just happened to look down and see that he was fully hard, straining against his pants.

"You talk too much," he mumbled. He was breathing heavily, taking every bit of energy in his body to restrain himself from jumping off the desk and bending you over.

"Shut me up."

Haechan wasted no time capturing your lips on his in a heated, messy kiss. Your hands flew to his face, holding it as you kissed him deeply. He still tasted like the whiskey he was drinking earlier and his lips are softer than you imagined. The little moans that left your mouth made him dizzy. He always thought of this moment, always feeling like it would be a bit anticlimactic, but he was so wrong.

Haechan moved you back a bit, lips still on yours as he hopped off the desk and spun you around. He pressed his body against yours, fingers traveling up the slit in your dress. "Are you kidding," he said against your lips, smirking to himself. "You're not even wearing shorts under this. Fuck, you drive me crazy."

He slips his hand between your legs, parting lips with you when he feels exactly how wet you are. "Fuck babe is literally down your legs."

You hide your face in his neck from embarrassment. He affects you too easily and all you had to do was hide it till someone could find the both of you. But here you were, kissing him, letting him touch you.

"Nuh uh, look at me," he said gently, making you face him. He pulled his fingers from under your dress, your arousal making them glisten in the low light. "So this is what I do to you hm? And you said you'd never fuck me."

"Shut up," you whined softly. "You're so annoying."

"I can't be as annoying as this pussy aching to be fucked, can I?" He put his fingers up to your mouth, looking at you like he was about to pounce. "Suck it."

"What? No," you refused, shaking your head slightly.

"Suck. It."

Haechan's tone suddenly changed, going from teasing and soft to demanding. You stopped talking and licked his fingers, wrapping your lips around them tasting yourself in your tongue. And if you didn't know any better, you'd say the look you were giving him right about now could make him cum alone.

"That's it," he cooed. "That's a good girl." Heat rushed to you when he took his fingers out your mouth, looking away to avoid his hungry gaze. Haechan let out a chuckle, kissing you softly. "Now let's get this dress out the way hm?" Haechan turned you around gently, unzipping the back of your dress. You let the silk fall off your body, and pool at your feet.

All too quickly, he bent you over the desk, making you gasp in shock. Just when you were about to say something, you felt a hard smack on your ass. "Fuck," you choked out through gritted teeth.

"That's for saying no the first time."

Smack.

"That's for the second time."

Smack.

The list kept going and going, some smacks harder than the next. You completely forgot where you were at the point, moans and groans becoming louder with each hit. You were sure you weren't gonna be able to sit without feeling pain for a bit.

"God you're enjoying this aren't you," he chuckled darkly. "you're so wet, it's dripping all over the floor. I should make you lick it up."

Panicked, you shook your head fast. "N-no."

"It's okay I wouldn't do that to you. Yet." He moves down your spine with his fingers, snapping your bra against your skin making you whine softly. "God, you're really loving this aren't you."

You started hearing the clink of him undoing his belt, the sound making you both nervous and excited. You needed this so badly, you were so sensitive, any touch, sound, taste would probably send you over the edge. You were pretty sure you were going to cum if he kept spanking you.

Haechan quickly pulled himself out of his pants quickly, cock already dripping with precum. "Now you tell me. Should I just fuck you or should I make you wait like you made me?"

"Haechan please, just fuck me," you whispered breathlessly. You absolutely hated begging for anything. It was so embarrassing that you went from yelling at him and demanding him to now pleading for him to be inside you.

"I wonder what all those people out there would say if they saw you like this." He rubbed his tip against your core, pushing it against your panties teasingly. You arched you back against him, wanting to feel more of him. "You're like a bitch in heat. Fuck Y/N, you needed this for a long time didn't you?"

You nodded fast, pressing your legs together for some pressure. "Please Haechan just give it to me already."

"Since you asked so nicely.." Haechan ripped your panties to your ankles, eyes never leaving the absolute mess between your legs. Pressing his tip on your entrance, he held your hip tight. Slowly, he pushed himself into you letting you feel the stretch you long needed. And at that moment, a look of surprise spread across his face when you let out a loud shaky whimper fluttering around him.

"Did you just cum," he said, mocking tone lacing his voice.

"I-I couldn't help it," you said, voice muffled on the table. You wanted to say something else, but was cut off by the feeling of him thrusting into you slowly. With each movement, you let out a choked moan. He thrusted so deep into you, you could feel every inch of him. The feeling was so intoxicating that you started to move your hips at the same time as him.

"Good girl," he grunted lowly. "Fuck that pretty pussy on this cock."

Your moans filled the room, the constant whimpers jumping off the walls back into your ears. Haechan took your arms and pinned them to your back when he started to fuck you faster. Your face was pressed on the smooth wooden desk practically drooling. You jumped feeling him plant a hard smack on your ass. "F-fuck!"

"You like that?"

"Mhm," you whimpered, hissing at the feeling of another smack. Haechan smacked your ass again, pounding into you hard. Your skin pinched slightly against the edge of the desk, but the pain mixed with the pleasure made your eyes roll back. "Haechan, I-I'm gonna cum."

"No you're not," he growled. Haechan pulled out of you and lifted your body off the desk. Haechan turned you around, lifting you and sitting your body on the wood. He pushed your body down looking at the mess he made of you. Your makeup was a mess, drool and small tears painting your cheeks. In his eyes, you were an absolute dream. So pretty, messy, weak, submissive and it was all for him.

Haechan swiftly pulled your hips off the edge of the desk, making you groan quietly. He lined himself back with your core, pushing himself in you and bottoming out. Haechan gave you no time to make sense of the change in position, fucking into you quick and hard.

"Haechan," you whined loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were intoxicated in his touch, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head when his hand rubbed up your body and around your neck.

"These are in the way," he mumbled, a grin spreading on his lips. And with that, he ripped the pearl necklace off your neck, the sound of the tiny expensive balls hitting the ground all around the both of you.

"That..that was expensive," you moaned breathlessly, brows furrowing at the pressure around your neck.

"Don't worry babe I can buy another one." He squeezed your neck the right amount almost as if he knew it was perfect. Your hands flew to his wrist, squeezing it as you stared up at him lost in the feeling of him filling you up.

"I'm gonna cum," you whimpered breathlessly.

"Cum. Cum for me Y/N," he grunted, slamming into you. "Fuck I'm so close." He took his hand on your neck, plunging it between your legs, rubbing your neglected clit fast.

You were so fucked out of your mind, so sensitive to the point where you couldn't even form a coherent sentence. All you could do is reach up and make grabby hands to communicate with him, and luckily for you, he understood. Haechan leaned down, kissing you messily and passionately. You held onto his shirt, your grip so strong he was afraid you'd pop a button.

"Haechan, I…I" You came around him with a loud high pitched whine, core squeezing around him right. Your ankles locked around his waist, not letting him go until you calm down from your high. Once your grip weakened, he pulled out of you quickly making you whine at the loss of him. Haechan stroked himself quickly above your limp tired body.

"Shit." He came on your stomach, the white fluid sticking to your lace lingerie painting your pretty skin.

The both of you stayed where you were for a minute allowing yourselves to catch your breaths. That's when it dawned on you that you just fucked Haechan, the one person you said you would never fuck. But you didn't feel bad about it or even embarrassed. In fact, you waited for the moment for a long time.

Haechan broke your deep thoughts patting your cheek to get your attention. "You okay down there?"

"Why wouldn't I be," you huffed, sitting up on your elbows weakly. You watched Haechan eye your body, jaw clenching when he got to the mess on your stomach.

"I wanna put a baby in you so badly," he mumbled.

"Okay, that's moving pretty fast," you laughed softly. "I can't believe we just did that."

"It was bound to happen." Haechan whipped the sweat off his brow, pushing his already messy hair back. "I always thought about how this moment would happen."

"Of course you did. That's probably all you could think about for the past couple of months," you snickered.

"You say that like you didn't have wet dreams about me and probably thought about me when you-"

"Okay, okay. You win" you said quietly accepting defeat. "It's so..hot in here."

"Do you think the window will open?"

"I don't know. Give it a try."

Haechan fixed himself up quickly and walked to the window. He placed his hands on the underside of the window, not thinking that it would open at all due to how old the house was, but to his and your surprise, it did.

"Are you fucking kidding me," you groaned softly.

"Don't be mad. At least you got some dick out of this," he teased.

"Shut up and just help me get dressed."

"If I help you, will you go on a date with me?"

"If I agree, will you stop being annoying and never talk about this again?"

"Can't make any promises to that, but I can promise to buy you a new necklace."

"Then we have a deal."

[cutielando]

hi! i was wondering if you could write an imagine with jj x reader kinda based of the scene jb and sarah “marry” each other when they were on the boat

married life | j.m.

a/n: thank you so much for sending this in!❤️

my masterlist

Times were tough.

By this point in your life, you had gone through what other people never have to experience ever in their lives, let alone at such a young age.

You thought you would finally have some peace and quiet after Big John had come back. That things would finally have a sense of normality again.

But that was far from the case.

Ever since you head Big John’s plans to fine the mythical city of El Dorado and the gold, your blood had run cold in your veins.

You loved Big John, he was like a father figure to JJ and a protector to all of you, but this was taking it a step too far.

You had already put yourself in harm's way a number of times for your friends, giving your parents one too many reasons to completely disown you for the stress you would cause them.

Telling them that you were going to another continent to search for a city full of golf that might not even exist? They would murder you before you'd even get the words out of your mouth.

JJ, surprisingly, felt the same way.

He loved John B like a brother and saw Big John as his father figure, but even he could admit that the old man's tales sounded far too amazing to be a reality.

And, as much as he would want to go for the sake of his friends, he didn't want to take you with them, and he didn't want to leave you behind either. So, in his books, he couldn't possibly go with his friend and leave you unattended at home.

This sparked many conversations between you two, analyzing the situation and the spot you were in dozens of times. Searching desperately for an answer, for the universe to tell you what the right thing to do was.

But no answer ever came, so you were stuck trying to figure it out by yourselves.

"Are we being bad friends by wanting to stick back here?" you had asked JJ one night while the two of you were relaxing in the hammock installed in your backyard.

"We're just looking out for ourselves, like any sane person would. I don't want to put you in more unnecessary danger than I already have, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Plus, you heard what John B said, he doesn't want us to go with them" he explained, twirling locks of your hair around his finger.

You sighed, nodding into his chest.

He was right, nobody should be mad at you guys for thinking about your safety, for once. You were trying to become more responsible, and this was the first step that would help you do that.

"I'd like to go, as far as one would want to leave their life behind to go on a deadly quest for a city of gold that might not exist, but my parents would definitely murder me if I told them about it" you joked, making the both of you laugh.

"They would murder me first for letting you even think about it, let's be honest" he added, making you laugh even harder.

As funny as that was to the two of you in that moment, he was right. Your parents were counting on JJ to keep you safe when they weren't around, and even though he had done exactly that even in your adventures, they would prefer it if you didn't leave home like that ever again.

"Thank you for keeping me safe all this time" you said softly, turning around so you were face-to-face with your boyfriend.

He smiled cheekily, thinking of a witty comeback, but he gave up once he saw the look of completely love you were giving him.

"It's my job, and it's not like you didn't take care of me either. I would have gone insane on that island if it weren't for you. We protected each other, and we're always going to look out for one another no matter what happens" he kissed your forehead, pulling away to look at you.

The bond you two shared is something nobody could ever understand.

You met at a time when you were both in a dark place, but especially JJ, because of his father. You were the first person not to run away when he completely broke down into your arms, telling you about all of the things his father had done to him over the years.

There was not even a second when you contemplated leaving him, or giving up on him. You couldn't imagine living in a world where he wasn't yours, right by your side and ready to tackle anything life threw at him with you by his side.

He was truly your one and only, the person that you wanted to grow old with and have children with, the only man you could ever love in this life.

The realization hit you like a tsunami, making your brain stop functioning and having a mind of its own.

Which is why the next words that stumbled out of your mouth shocked the both of you to the core.

"Let's get married"

JJ thought he had heard you wrongly at first. Surely, you couldn't actually mean that you wanted to get married, right?

You were both so young, and you always spoke about how you wanted to wait until at least 20 years old to get married.

"What?" JJ asked, chuckling a little to ease the tension.

In any other case, you would be embarrassed to the ends of the Earth, just asking him to forget you'd ever said anything.

But right now, in this moment, you were more confident than ever in your words.

"I don't mean that we actually go and get married, not yet anyway. But just between us, something only we are going to know. Be unofficially officially married. We don't need rings, we can just tie pieces of the bandana you gave me on your first date around our necks or something as a sign of our commitment to each other" you explained quickly, getting excited and unwrapping the bandana you always kept on your arm.

JJ chuckled, watching you scramble to tear thin pieces of the bandana for the both of you.

He didn't want to admit, but he loved you more in that moment than he had ever before. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you, shout from the rooftops that you're his and only his. So how could he ever think to deny you?

"I would love nothing more than to marry you" he whispered, giving you a long kiss before taking the bandana and wrapping it around your neck, you doing the same to him.

The feeling that you had that night was like nothing you had ever experienced.

As you sat with JJ under the starry night, limbs intertwined and hushed promises and kisses exchanged, there was nowhere you would rather be.

In JJ's arms.

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[reds-writings]

if only tonight we could sleep?

the dora lange case had come to a close...but was it really ever over?

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: inspired by getting lost in the sound of the cure's kiss me, kiss me, kiss me album. this is set somewhere in the same world of jealousy, jealousy!. your feedback, as always, is greatly treasured!

word count: around 2.6k

warnings: angst, canon-typical death (mentions of what happens at the Ledoux shootout), nudity (showering together!), cursing, dread, etc (minors go away)

The Dora Lange case had finally been closed once and for all. All the bullshit and danger that had accumulated over all these weeks could finally cease to continue. You’re sure that even within the next twenty something odd years or so when all of this would be well blown over and buried you would never be able to truly process the fucked up-ness of it all. 

Your mind was thoroughly numb and all of your limbs ached to no end. You could feel everything you’d endured catching up to you as your body finally allowed itself to let go. Adrenaline and sheer will had been what kept you from fully crumbling during the case’s most crucial and final moments. The shit Rust and Marty decided to pull with that druggie Ginger had already left you worse for wear. Discovering Ledoux and the horrors that were transpiring in that shithole was something you couldn’t let yourself dwell on for too long lest you wanted to find yourself having a complete mental breakdown. Bodies and skulls being blown to bits right in front of you. The sight of rich blood and scattered brain matter sprayed to stain onto your boots. Finding those kids like that…you’d never get over it. One was sentenced to a life of trauma that left her catatonic and the other one deceased. You’d had the naive thought more than once telling you if only we'd all been a bit quicker…

But there was no point in dwelling on all the ifs and maybes. That was a guaranteed one-way ticket to self-induced insanity. 

You should feel relief that this is over. The weight of one of the many atrocities committed in the world removed from your down-trodden shoulders. Solved. A monster taken down and put into the earth where he couldn’t return to cause more strife. Why couldn't it feel over? Where was the relief?

You didn’t know much of what Rust and Marty felt on the matter, too busy dealing with keeping your stories straight on just how you all had come across Ledoux’s hideout instead of finding the time to have a heart-to-heart on how much this might’ve permanently screwed with your heads for ages to come. You knew well enough that ending the case like this wasn’t easy for either of them given their respective standpoints when it came to kids. Marty discovered those children and both men had carried them back. Rust had shouldered the burden of carrying that poor boy. A small choice of action that had your heart twisting even more painfully than you thought it already had during it all. The Texan could go on and on about the world being shit and there being no control over the horrors one would be put through trying to live life but you found that it was he who tried the hardest to shield others from said pain and horror whether he was aware of it or not. He cared a lot more about the human race than he let on but it would be more than ineffectual trying to convince him of that particular truth. 

Things with Rust had been all over the place since the fiasco of a night you had after the bar as well as any event that followed afterwards: surprise, surprise. The time you’d initially aimed for to really sit down and decipher where it was exactly you saw the two of you headed had found itself slipping away at every possible chance. Neither of you was to necessarily blame, as the nature of your work was in constant demand of your full attention, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

You guys weren’t even truly anything yet and it was already this arduous. What kind of shelf-life did a pairing such as this really have down the line? It was more than likely that acting on any idea of pursuing Rust romantically was destined to never end in your favor. He was your coworker for Christ’s sake. Yes, there was no one else who could probably understand what it is you go through like each other but it was harder to separate other crueler aspects of your lives as well. Everything would get in the way of professionalism. It already had when it came to the showdown with Ginger. 

Trying not to let your thoughts go down the usual Rust rabbit hole it found itself in you decided that you’d take the longest and hottest shower you hadn’t had the luxury of taking in weeks. Any extra time you had lately was reserved for quick and cold rinses to keep yourself up and at 'em’. Relaxation in any sense of the word was hard to adjust to after long stretches of work such as these. It was like your body had forgotten how to just be. Nothing was chasing you and there was no clock ticking over your shoulder to mock you that time to get shit done was running out. The empty quiet that followed would never not be unnerving to you. You had nowhere to be and nothing to do. 

Where was the fucking relief? 

With a huff, you set aside the jack and coke you’d been cradling out on your front porch in the dwindling evening light. The air was more balmy than the stifling hot you’d experienced day in and day out though your skin still held that essence of a humid dew that kept your hair and clothes sticking to you like a second skin. Dusting off your pants you made way to get on up from your depressing reverie only to find the outline of a familiarly limber figure at the end of your driveway. How the hell hadn’t you heard him pull up?

“Are you gonna stand there like a regular ol’ weirdo or get up here?” You feigned nonchalance at his sudden presence but your heart told another story with the quickening pace it decided to adopt. 

Wordlessly, Rust ventured his way up the pathway and onto your shabby porch. He eyed the abandoned drink you had by your side so you offered it up to him. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first two buttons of his dress shirt before accepting the silent offering. It took two long gulps before the glass was drained.

There was a heavy silence for longer than what was comfortable. Where could you even start? You didn’t want to catch yourself in an awkward fumble trying to gauge what it was he exactly needed from you as it was clear there was a purpose in him showing up without a warning. The set of his posture made it seem like he was curling in on himself more and more by the minute. He couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye, fearful that it would be his complete undoing. This visible deflation in action made you feel panicked for not knowing what assistance you could offer without having him pull away.

“...D’ya wanna talk about it?”

Rust shook his head softly as if in a daze. His eyes growing glassy and increasingly distant while he stared at your porch’s floorboards. 

At a loss, you cleared your throat shakily, “Well I was just about to hop in the shower. You can come inside…hang around if you want. We don’t have to talk or nothin’...o-or we can if that’s what you wanna end up doin’ after havin’ some quiet.”

No reply.

“Well, there’s beers and whatnot in the fridge if you choose. Don’t be shy to helpin’ yourself.” You got up and squeezed his hand gently, warm and calloused like you’d been dreaming about since they held you. That already felt like ages ago. He still made no move.

“I’m here.” Was all you could say and with that, you loosened your grip and headed on inside then upstairs to your bathroom. After setting out some comfy clothes and shedding out of the day’s stiff attire for all the press work that entailed you waited for the shower to reach its desired heat. The person looking back at you in your steadily fogging mirror was almost unrecognizable. Bruises from recent incidents had barely begun to make their way towards the fading process. Skin so sullen and hair even duller. When had you started to look so tired? This beaten down? You felt sorry for anyone who had the displeasure of viewing your walking corpse as of late. 

The spray of the showerhead above you was nothing short of heavenly. Any pain and misery melted away to be forever cast down into the depths of the tub’s drain. Your bones felt like lead as you let yourself stand there, waiting to gain the sense of motivation to start washing yourself clean. It could’ve been ten minutes or even ten hours before the sound of the bathroom door clicking ajar had you opening your eyes. The silhouette of the cause of your heart’s aching and beating stood beyond the fogged glass as if at a loss of what to make himself do next. You said nothing, not wanting him to feel as if he was unwanted or on the other hand forced to join you. To expose himself beyond what a casual act of nudity could display already. 

It was another elongated moment before you heard the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothes being discarded. You were so far gone that it hadn’t occurred to you he was about to see you at your most vulnerable. He’d witnessed you at some of your lowest, shittiest points but this was crossing into an entirely new territory. 

And yet you didn’t feel as scared as you thought you would. You didn’t find Rust to be as judgemental about the physical as he was about the metaphysical. 

The shower’s sliding door worked its way open and you didn’t turn around until a few moments after it had closed. The look on his face was similar to the one you’d been subjected to all those weeks ago after the bar. One of true fear. Fear of being seen at his very core. Open and raw. Fear that you’d take this all in and decide to turn him away in disgust or disinterest. Rust’s eyes didn’t wander down any further than your face. He wasn’t here out of primal desire. He needed something…someone…you to help him hold himself together for just this moment. Any and all strength he usually had keeping him upright had escaped him after the weight of everything finally penetrated his psyche. 

You found your hand making its way up to his face, tracing dampening tendrils out of his line of sight before cupping his jaw. That empty blue fluttered closed, giving himself a moment or two before completely relinquishing himself to your gentle touch. Your other hand met the other side of his face before you leaned forward to touch your forehead to his. The downfall of water in the small cubicle drowned out any other possible thoughts or worries that could’ve been had in the current moment. There was nothing and no one else that mattered. 

One kiss to his nose, then his chin, and finally his trembling lips had large palms come up to rest on the supple flesh of your hips, steadily gripping you as if you’d float away from him. You separated for a moment as his hands traveled up to clutch at your back. Before he could bring you closer you kissed him gently once more before succumbing to his grasp. Settling with leaving barely-there imprints of your mouth on the expansive skin of his chest and neck, your own hands brought themselves up to return his embrace. You felt the soft press of a peck linger on the side of your head as his grip grew a bit tighter. Seconds passed until the subtle shaking of broad shoulders had you clinging to him impossibly tighter. His sobs were not all that audible but the shuddering breaths he’d take in every now and then were more than enough to clue you in on just how much he was hurting. Tears began to burn behind your own eyes as your pain melded with his. 

Here you were, just two broken people who gave up all notions of stoicism to completely and utterly crumble in front of each other. Fully at each other’s undeniable mercy. 

- - - -

You didn’t know how much more time had passed after holding each other but as the water began to grow more frigid you made haste to help each other wash up. You both stepped out so you could wrap yourself in your own towel before making your way to your linen closet to fetch him one as well as to not have him left wet and cold for too long. With your mind a bit clearer from the emotional release experienced, you finally came to realize the presence of the exceptionally athletic physique in front of you. He seemed to be in the same state of appreciation towards you and you caught yourself feeling hot in the face as you clumsily thrust a towel in his direction. 

“You don’t have to be shy in front of me.” His voice sounded raw from lack of use. The first words he’d uttered since he’d come here.

You tucked a wet piece of hair behind your ear, trying to casually meet his stare, “I know. Just didn’t expect us to end up here when you showed up is all. It’s just catchin’ up to me…” The pinch of your chin between long fingers drew you to kiss him again. 

“You’re everythin'...and then some.” 

You fought a self-deprecating scoff but he said it as if it were the most simplest fact in the world. You had no choice but to believe him.

“Let’s just find you some clothes. I am in dire need of one looong hibernation after everythin’. You too, mister.” You flicked his chest then slinked out of the bathroom. You finished any of the necessary preparations for bed by the time he had wandered into your room. The window you cracked open let in a gentle breeze while the warm glow of the few candles that had been lit danced in the haven you created. Whether you wanted a form of light for the sake of your own comfort or it being done out of some subconsciously innate need to keep Rust out of the dark for the night, you didn’t care to unpack. 

Climbing into bed once and for all, you lay facing each other. Letting peace and stillness settle in. 

“We did it y’know…it’s over. We can be okay.” You couldn’t help but say. Feeling the need to find something to reaffirm the so-called fact that should’ve been comforting at the end of all this. Anything to soothe underlying anxiety as the heavy shadow of the unknown and incomplete loomed over you. It should’ve been over but Ledoux was but a small piece to a hugely fragmented puzzle. Both of you knew it deep down but hadn’t the strength to confirm it out loud. Afraid to shatter this sense of temporary false security.

This was far from being done and dealt with. From being fully uncovered.  

Rust didn’t say anything else as he pulled you into the warmth of his chest. Caging you in with no choice but to surrender to the silent feeling of safety he was trying to provide you. You could only pray that the two of you could make it through anything as you both found yourselves victims to the passing of time and any other trials it had ready for you.

Especially with whatever was waiting for you on the other side of Carcosa.  

----

a/n: ahhhh! hurt/comfort is always a guilty pleasure. sorry for the immense dread at the end. i'm thinking of cooking up another fic that draws back to what exactly went down with our trio and ginger if that's something of interest to you all! thanks for reading!

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

sex with spencer Reid all 15 seasons (season 2)

If you are under the age of 18, please do not read this story. Thank you.

This will cover what I believe sex would be like with Spencer Reid from season 1 to 15. Warning contains adult situations, Sex. Dirty talk, Orgasms, Crying, Spoilers for all seasons and Spencer Reid being a sex God.

Also includes fingering and oral sex. (Female receiving only.)

These are a little bit longer than I anticipated them to be because I wanted to give a back story as to why the sex is the way that it is for each season. To give it in depth feeling of why Spencer was the way that he was in bed that season.  So I will be posting them by each season rather than all at once. I hope this gives you something to look forward to, and please leave comments,  I will be leaving links to the next season below.

You are a new agent at the BAU and Spencer Reid's girlfriend, the one who takes his virginity and has sex with him for all 15 seasons and beyond.

Spencer Reid knew the first time he saw you walk through the doors of the BAU that you were the one that he was going to love forever. The first time you smiled, he knew it was the only smile that he ever wanted to wake up to. The first time he touched your hand, he knew yours was the only hand he ever wanted to hold. The first time he kissed you, he knew your lips were the only ones that he ever wanted to have pressed against his own. and the first time he made love to you, he knew you were the only one he ever wanted to do this with, and he also knew he would never be the same you or his life now, his love and his only desire.

Season 2

In season 2, Spencer has reunited with his mother after several years and also Elle Greenaway got shot by the Fisher King, both things causing Spencer a lot of stress.

also In season two you two have been having sex for six months now and Spencer is more confident now since he knows that he can give you multiple orgasms in one sex session.  And now Spencer 

wears glasses. You find him even more attractive because now he looks like a little sweetie pie that you know can Make Love to you like no one else. Giving you orgasm after orgasm until both 

of you are completely exhausted and can't move anymore, In which case he holds you cuddled in his arms until you both fall asleep wake up and do it all over again. And when he keeps the 

glasses on as he has sex with you WOW, of course you and Spencer are the only people in the world who know that. But now that you know the effect that you have on him, you wear 

sweaters and tops They're a little tighter and a little bit lower cut than they need be. Something that you know will turn him on, causing his glasses to fog up sometimes. Something that Morgan 

makes fun of him for, "Your little girlfriend there gets you all hot and bothered, huh? Look at you with your glasses steaming up". Of course this is embarrassed Spencer since no one in the 

workplace knows what he can be like in bed. According to them he's still a virgin, since again only the two of you know exactly what he's capable of in the bedroom. "What? She doesn't do 

that to me?" He shrieks as he takes off his glasses to wipe off the fogginess. "It's just hot in here" he tells Morgan. Since you're on a case as soon as you're in the hotel room Spencer is all over 

you. Kissing your lips, neck, any skin that he can get a hold of as He tears your clothes off. He can't wait to get a hold of you. "That sweater you had on today made me insane. I couldn't wait 

to get you alone and take it off. I just have to have you", he tells you as he kisses you once more before putting you on the bed and having sex with you. The feeling that you wanted all day. And 

you knew Spencer wanted it too. Spencer was so excited to finally have you all to himself that he forgot to take off his glasses once again. This happens quite often as he's always so excited to get you into bed.

After a little bit, you notice that his glasses have fogged up. You start to giggle and he looks at you as well as he can Through the fogginess and begins to giggle himself before trying to take 

the glasses off until you put your hand on his and say "please leave them on". Of course he would always give you anything that you wanted, so the glasses stay on.

spencer was always a sweet, kind and loving lover. That was up until Tobias Hankel. You just thought that it was the kidnapping that made Spencer a little bit 

rougher in bed. That was until the day that you saw the marks on Spencer's arm that you knew something else was wrong. You asked him what happened. He started crying and told you 

about his addiction to diladid, you both cried when he told you, you were completely understanding and just wanted to comfort him and love him and make him always feel safe with 

you. And he did, knowing how much you loved him, that you would never judge him for that. After all, it wasn't his fault what Tobias did. The sex wasn't quite as rough after that, and you 

were happy with that. The night that he held a vial in his hand, looked you in the eyes full of love and said "you're the only drug I need, I don't need this anymore" Before throwing the vial into 

the trash, the last that you would ever see of that drug. Withdrawal was a bit difficult since it did make him angry and he really didn't want to be around you. You spent a couple nights at 

Penelope's. But the day that he called you and told you the Withdrawal was over. He made love to you so sweetly multiple times that it made-up for everything that you had gone through together.

[wintersera]

rockstar!winter x f!reader

notes: completely self indulgent as you will be able to tell from all the screaming- i’m blaming that clip… drove me insane LIKE ACTUALLY INSANE

cw: dom winter, sub reader (OMG SURPRISE), daddy kink, is calling reader a ‘whore’ degredation? it’s also not proofread i just wrote this on autopilot-

word count: 0.8/0.9k i forgot….

showing up to your girlfriends performance for the first time ever was going to be the death of you.

the lights were dim, loudness of the bass shaking your skeleton? you didn’t even know that could happen. it was a bit overwhelming for you because honestly... you weren’t even into rock that much even though your girlfriend is a rock genius.

it was definitely worth your time. seeing the spotlight shine on her while she plays with her guitar. and in all seriousness you didn’t really give a shit about the music AT ALL. your focus was completely on her fingers, the way she was tapping and strumming the strings had you in a trance, and oh my! you’re panties are soaked through.

you didn’t even last one second into the song thag was playing, all that was in your mind was her fingers, oh my god her hands, her fingers should be in me right now, i want her fing- yeah…

“baby you did so good on stage” running to the back of the stage. you just couldn’t wait anymore

“of course, you were there. i had to put on the best show for my girl” standing there with sweat dripping down her face. “did you like my guitar solo? dont tell my fans, but i practiced it just for you”. your girlfriend, minjeong, was so sweet. the main guitarist of the band aespa and the hottest person to ever cross this universe. whatever you did in your past life must be crazy to bless you with such a fine ass girlfriend.

“no one is in this room right?”

“what are you implying y/n?”

“oh nothing, i just wanted to say that you looked so hot on stage daddy” seducing her by slipping the string of your top down your shoulders.

not expecting that, she dropped everything she was holding right at that moment and cornered you. locking the door just in case one of her bandmates decide to waltz in. “oh don’t you dare start this now. not with those skimpy ass clothes you're wearing” now you knew wearing a mini skirt and a tight top would do you justice even tho your ass was so cold waiting outside the venue 😭, and well today you couldn't help being turned on, seeing your girlfriend work her guitar with her skillful fingers on that electric guitar had your pussy throbbing.

“turning me on after my performance, oh my baby is such a whore for me” hiking up your skirt to reveal you pretty much soaked thong “and you’re wearing a thong? all dolled up for me? you’re so kind” tugging the thong that rubbed your clit all in the right ways.

“a-anything for you daddy” god you turned her on so much. she just wanted to fuck your pussy so hard rn, and thats what she’s doing 🤭 pumping not one but three fingers into your sopping wet hole while she messily makes out with you, her tongue dominating over yours with ease. the noises you were making were anything but holy, thanking the interior designers for the very good choice of making the room sound proof because god, you are literally screaming out her name, moaning, groaning, literally all the noises are coming out of your slutty mouth. and if the noises coming from your mouth weren’t enough to show that she had you wrapped around her fingers (PUN NOT INTENDED) your wet pussy definitely showed. sticky, wet sounds were definitely escaping out of you. oh my god she was making you so unbelievably wet, your juices literally spilling all over the floor coating her hands and dripping everywhere on your legs.

AND SHES NOT FINISHED WITH YOU, breaking your kiss to make you face the wall and bend over so she can see your pussy in full view!!! her licking your lips before she fully makes out with it. licking and sucking so violently on your clit it makes you squirm and buck your hips into her face, while also shoving her fingers back into your pussy, slamming them into you without any mercy. it doesn’t really take that long to make you cum, with the whole build up during the concert you were pretty much standing there in awe on the verge of cumming JUST BY SEEING HER PERFORM?? she’s so rough with you but that's how daddy minjeong likes it anyways, seeing you turn into her personal sex doll and treating you as such as well, slapping your ass as you're bent over like a whore, repeating to you that she’s “your daddy”. she would open the door to show the entire crowd her lovely baby being finger fucked with a stupid slutty fucked out face, but she’s overprotective like that you know.

when you finally, cum it’s so violent yet so so so good. legs shaking, BODY SHAKING, you’re on the verge of blacking out as you’re hitting the walls screaming “daddy- ah, daddy m-minjeong your fingers feel so good” biting down on your lip as you feel the ecstasy course through your entire body.

of course once you’ve had the most craziest orgasm of your life, you fall to your knees.

picking you up she just smiles at you, kissing you on the lips then whispering in your ear “let’s continue this at home”

[rreidsdream]

Empty Office

Summary: Spencer had a secret crush on you and he finally confessed to you.

Paring: Spencer Reid x reader

CW/Tags: shy!spencer, secret crush, fantasizing, public!make out session

WC: 1.1k

It was a quiet afternoon at the BAU office. The hum of computers, the faint sound of typing, and the occasional murmur from agents discussing cases filled the air. Spencer Reid sat at his desk, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, as he worked through his paperwork. His mind, however, wasn't entirely on the task at hand. No, Spencer was distracted by you.

You had always been different from everyone else. The way you carried yourself, the sound of your voice, the way you leaned over his desk when you came to ask him a question-it all made his heart race. Even now, as he pushed his glasses up his nose and tried to refocus, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The mere sight of you had this effect on him.

The rest of the team teased him endlessly about it, calling him "genius" as they shared knowing looks whenever you were near. Spencer wasn't oblivious to the tension between the two of you, but he was far too shy and awkward to ever act on it. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

But today, you walked into the office with that mischievous smile on your face, your eyes searching for him.

When you spotted him sitting at his desk, head buried in his papers, you sauntered over. Spencer felt you before he saw you-your presence was like electricity in the air, and suddenly, the room felt ten degrees warmer.

"Hey, Reid," you said, sitting on the edge of his desk. "I'm bored. Finished my work, and now l've got nothing to do."

Spencer froze, his hands halting over the keyboard. He looked up at you, his throat dry. "Oh, um, that's... that's good.

I mean, not good that you're bored, but good that you're, uh, finished with your work."

You smiled at him, your eyes twinkling. He was just too cute when he got flustered like this. "Do you have anything for me to do?" you asked, leaning forward just slightly, your presence intoxicatingly close.

Spencer swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. His mind scrambled for a response. "I-I have this book," he stammered, reaching into his bag and pulling out a worn paperback. "I think you'd like it. It's about... uh, probability theory. It's really interesting, I swear."

You raised an eyebrow but took the book from his hands, your fingers brushing against his. That small, innocent touch sent a jolt of heat through Spencer's body, and he felt himself blush furiously. You didn't seem to notice, though, as you settled back beside him, flipping through the pages.

He tried to focus on his work, but the sound of you reading next to him, the way your eyes moved across the pages, the way you occasionally bit your lip in concentration-it was driving him insane. He could feel himself getting more and more flustered, his mind wandering to thoughts he really shouldn't be having in the middle of the office.

His imagination took over, unbidden. He imagined leaning over, taking the book from your hands, and pulling you into him. He imagined kissing you, feeling the soft warmth of your lips against his, the way you'd melt into him, the way your fingers would tangle in his hair...

He snapped out of it, blinking rapidly.

This was ridiculous. He couldn't just daydream about you like this. Not here.

Not now.

But you were so close, so impossibly close. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made his skin prickle with anticipation.

He had to say something, had to do something before he completely lost control.

"Hey," he said, his voice shakier than he intended. You looked up at him, your eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Yeah?" you asked, your voice soft, a little teasing.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He hesitated for a moment, glancing around the office. Everyone else seemed occupied, busy with their own tasks. He took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage he had.

"I-I need to talk to you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Privately."

You looked at him, surprised, but intrigued. Without a word, you slid off the desk, and he stood up, his movements awkward and hurried. He led you to an empty office at the end of the hall, his hands trembling slightly as he closed the door behind the two of you.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the tension exploded between you.

Spencer turned to face you, his eyes wide and filled with uncertainty, but also with something darker-something more primal.

"I can't-" he began, his voice cracking.

"I can't keep pretending, I-"

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to meet your lips in a searing kiss. Spencer let out a soft, startled sound, his hands instinctively coming up to rest on your hips.

He kissed you back with more intensity than you'd ever expected from him. His lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a hunger that had clearly been building for a long time.

You could feel his heart racing as your bodies pressed together, his hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you might disappear.

The thrill of it all-the secrecy, the risk of being caught-only made everything more electric. Spencer's usually shy demeanor made the way he kissed you, the way he held you, all the more thrilling. His hands were gentle but eager, roaming over your back as he deepened the kiss, his breath coming in quick, ragged gasps.

He pulled back just long enough to look at you, his face flushed, his glasses slightly askew. "I-l've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't know how to tell you..."

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "I've wanted it too, Spencer," you murmured, your voice low and seductive.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again as the kiss grew more passionate, more heated. His hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

The thrill of being in an office, the possibility of someone walking in at any moment, only heightened the intensity of the moment. Every touch, every kiss felt more dangerous, more forbidden.

Spencer's normally shy and awkward nature only made it more exciting-the way he hesitated for a second before touching you, the way his breath hitched whenever you made a sound.

It was everything you'd both wanted, everything you'd both been too scared to admit. And now that it was happening, neither of you could stop.

The world outside ceased to exist as the heat between you built to a fever pitch, the only sound in the room the soft moans and gasps of your shared desire.

Spencer might have been the genius, the shy, nerdy guy with the glasses, but right now, he was everything you wanted — and more.

[citricchatter]

Obsessed with this YouTube comment where this person did everything in their power to gaslight Kim in their Disco Elysium playthrough by making Harry act like a normal person.

[Image ID: "On my last playthrough of the game, I basically broke the storyline to be as sane as possible. I constantly lied about my amnesia, never asked questions about basic fundamental things and rarely deviated from the case; turns out, the only things you really need to admit you can't remember are the things Harry did and said in Martinaise, and the people he met but couldn't remember. So, for all intents and purposes, it appeared that my Harry had simply been blackout drunk for several days. And yet... Kim kept telling everyone that I was an amnesiac who has severe brain damage. When we hit a roadblock in the case and needed to get the body to a refrigerator, he suggested we visit the bookshop. But upon arriving at the bookshop and agreeing to help Pleasance with her 'curse', he thought I was crazy!! He came across as completely insane next to me." End ID]

[starfallforest]

Stop putting 'Too Sweet' by Hozier in your Sylus playlists

I am sorry—this was clickbait. I don’t actually care what you do with your life. But I need you to hear me out for just a second, okay? I am extremely not neurotypical about two things: Love and Deepspace, and Andrew John Hozier-Byrne. And I have seen more than one person in the tags talk about "Too Sweet" by Hozier being a perfect song for Sylus and MC. My only discourse about this is that Too Sweet is a song about a man who makes continuous self-sabotaging life decisions being incompatible with a partner who has her life put together. In my humble opinion, both Sylus and MC are hot messes of people in completely different ways. Anyway, it’s a good song so I don’t blame you for putting it in every playlist ever. In fact, you should. But if you're into this song, I want to show you a couple more pls pls pls 🙏​

I might just be autistic, but both Hozier's music and Love and Deepspace have something extremely important in common… and that’s BEAUTIFUL MEN YEARNING!!!1 And that’s not even to mention the haunting, raw sexuality we can project onto the stories that each of these things feeds to us. That's why I needed to make this post on the 1% chance that someone might hop on this brainrot train with me. So let me present, for just a moment of your time (if you're willing): other Hozier songs that fit Sylus so well I want to combust about it.

De Selby (Parts 1 & 2):

“At last, when all of the world is asleep You take in the blackness of air The likes of a darkness so deep That God—at the start—couldn't bear.” [azlyrics] [gaelic translation]

Imagine just casually writing THE love song that so beautifully says, “Before you were in my life, I kinda understood how God felt before he created the universe.” Excuse me? Andrew just dropped this stanza on us without so much as a cw: fuck you. And if that sickening portrait of gnawing loneliness isn’t enough, we have all the Genesis God references. Since all the LIs in the game are at some point likened to gods or rivaling gods with their power, then add the reverberating instrumentals and chillingly slow vocals in this 2-minute killer, tell me how this song does not fit Sylus. Not only that, but we also have imagery of his lover descending upon him like the night (which is invoked during Part 1 in the Gaelic verse), and I know that’s on the nose for Sylus but come on. I need you guys writing smut to have an orgasm during De Selby (at least Part 2) because it might change ur brain chemistry I'm just saying.

“When you fall on me like night—I wanna kill the lights.” [azlyrics]

This song still rules irt its playing with darkness symbolism, but it also refers to the darkness in the singer’s lover—which in Sylus’ case is MC and we all were there when she shot the guy in the heart like his freaky eye was telling her: “And your heart, love, has such darkness—I feel it in the corners of the room…” my goddddddd stop right there I can’t handle the METAPHORrrr. You think Sylus gives a flying fuck about MC’s frivolous morality bullshit? No he wants her to embrace her own darkness, sit under the blankies with him and cuddle after doing crimes and a beat poetry session. This is some fucking Hannibal Lecter beyond-dark-romance shit. I’m not even trying to write a dissertation here (and yet…)

Talk (from Wasteland, Baby!):

“I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of, That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marveling at God… Imagine being loved by me.” [azlyrics]

Not only does this song utilize insane Greek mythology metaphor and Biblical comparison but the overall meaning of it is, “I want you so bad, I need to speak poetically to hide how down bad I am for you.” That sounds kinda like Old World Sylus and all his pretty nicknames to me.

NFWMB:

“If I was born as a black thorn tree, I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, Fuel the pyre of your enemies… Ain't it warming you, the world going up in flames?” [azlyrics]

This whole song just some hard, deep and steady yearning for 4 and a half minutes. Are you kidding? The acronym in the title stands for Nothing Fucks With My Baby, which is sung in the chorus like some quietly violent war chant—soft, dark, and powerful. Anyway don’t tell me Mr. Sylus “Give me a list and then go to bed. I’ll take care of it” Loveanddeepspace wouldn’t scorch the earth for the love of his life—or do one better and stand by her side while she scorches the earth herself; here’s the protective/supportive mans anthem you ordered babes.

It Will Come Back:

“I know who I am when I'm alone—I'm something else when I see you. You don't understand, you should never know How easy you are to need.” [azlyrics]

This song has repeated imagery that warns of the dangers of taking care of a feral animal, and then compares the feral animal to the singer as a lover. Like fuck off, that’s sexy and haunted. And we know that not only does Sylus love animals more than people, but he’s pretty animalistic himself if we are to believe that maybe he’s secretly a demon or something.

Arsonist’s Lullaby:

“Don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash.” [azlyrics]

Remember in Lost Oasis when MC goes on some tangent wondering what Sylus' past was like? Well it was this song. It's about troubled youth and learning to grow in your darkness. Also how cool is that imagery of demons? Hey Sylus, what do you have to say about demons? I'll wait. In the meantime I'm tattooing this shit on my clavicle

BONUS ROUND Through Me:

“Everytime I’d burn through the world, I’d see that the world—it burns through me.”

We got a man and we got some fire allusions so there ya go.

Blood Upon the Snow:

“To all things housed in her silence, Nature offers a violence.”

Blood upon the snow—it's red and white! Red!! And white!!! Also kind of a Sylus x Zayne anthem lbr

Ok I hope you found another song that inspires you to make Sylus art or fanfic with!! And before you ask, yes I've already assigned Hozier songs to every other love interest in the game. Ok thanks for reading!!! 🏃‍♀️​💨​

[pensat-i-fet]

An unbearable fan (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**So I was requested this the other day and it's kind of funny huh? Me writing from the POV of a Madrid fan. Just in case you didn't know it was fiction, this is the definitive proof 😅 anyways, it’s just banter and a bit of angst and fluff for all of you to hopefully enjoy! ❤️**

Word count: 1238

Masterlist

Wattpad

There were downsides to any relationship and that included a relationship with a football player. All the travelling, all the emotions that went up and down depending on the result of that specific day…it could be a lot. But when the player didn't play for the team you loved with all your heart, things could get a bit messier.

Luckily for you, Rúben played in England. Your team played in the Spanish League. So the chances of him playing against Madrid were so small…but there still was a chance.

And so when Madrid beat Chelsea and City beat Bayern, it was time for a second semifinal in a row between your team and your boyfriend's. And you hated it.

For the first leg, the teams played at the Bernabéu. Being back there was special for you. And it helped you daydream about Rúben playing there in the future…but for the home team. A girl can dream.

The match ended in a draw and Rúben should have been given MOTM because he drove your attacking players insane. They don't call him "the wall" for nothing.

"Just 1-0 at home, and we're in the final".

"Yeah, good luck with that", you said, rolling your eyes. "My boys were just warming up yesterday. They saved all the magic for the Etihad".

"You lot are really into saving the magic for the last minute. It gets annoying, you know?"

"Not to us!", you shrugged.

The banter continued during the next week but what changed was the nerves you felt. Rúben being in the final was great but you couldn't just root against your team. They had already been in a similar position the previous season and it broke your heart. But also, you were happy he lost and that made you feel like a horrible person. You tried not to show it in front of him but he wasn't dumb.

"Are you wearing that?", he asked, pointing at your outfit.

"Yes. What's wrong with it?"

"You always wear my shirt to matches. But I guess you're just making it clear again you want me to lose".

"It's not that but, it's my team…imagine Madrid and Benfica played each other! You'd want Benfica to win and I wouldn't blame you".

"You don't play for any of the teams. That makes the difference. I get you want them to always win but you should make an exception when they play against me!"

"I'd be happy if you win…".

"I doubt it".

You didn't want to say more because it'd only make things harder to fix later. But driving in silence was going to make you go insane.

"Good luck".

"It almost sounded like you meant it".

"Rúben, I do mean it".

"You mean you want me to do well while my team is destroyed. But it's a team sport. What I do means nothing".

"Tell that to Benzema".

He ignored your comment and left to join the rest of the team without saying goodbye.

Why couldn't they draw another team instead of yours???

Rúben wasn't completely wrong. Whatever happened, you wanted him to be the best player on the pitch. It could be someone else who messed up when your team scored.

And he was one of the best…but then again, so was Bernardo who scored a brace. And Julián only needed a few minutes on the pitch to seal their pass to the final. 4-0, how did that happen?

Apart from Rúben doing well, you wanted just a simple 0-1. No team needed to be humiliated this time. But yours was and it was against one of your biggest enemies. Pep.

When you saw Rúben waiting for you by the car, you noticed his smile and that pissed you off. So you couldn't want your team to win but he could laugh after humiliating you? Bit unfair, that.

"You feeling ok after that?"

Your response was to look inside his trousers' pockets, which confused him. "Did you take Karim out already? Nice, he needs the fresh air".

"You're joking?"

"It's that or telling you to go to hell. I'm trying to be diplomatic".

The day after the match, you were off work so sleeping in sounded like the best way to start your day. By the time you woke up, Rúben was long gone and so you made it to the kitchen expecting it to be empty.

And there was no Rúben there but it looks like he had time to buy, and print, all the newspaper articles about the match before leaving to train. He even checked the Barcelona press to find the most insulting headlines.

But two could play that game.

"Did you read the news today?", he asked when he got back home.

"I've never been a newspaper person. I prefer to get my news from Twitter".

"From Madrid fan accounts? I bet they are real objective".

"Are you a comedian now?"

"Come on…", he said, hugging you. "Forgive me for annihilating your team".

"Should we talk about last season, Dias? Stop it!"

"Such a sore loser", he laughed.

"Well, I'm not used to losing unlike others".

                                      **

The weeks that passed between the semifinals and the final had helped you two forget your little fight. But you were still petty and had a surprise saved for Rúben.

"It's so tiring to pack for just a couple of days. I've checked the weather so many times to bring the right clothes".

"You can always use that as an excuse to go shopping there".

"You're right. But…can you help me? I don't know if this outfit is right for the match?"

When he got there, his smile disappeared.

"I can't stand you".

"Is it good or not?"

"When did you buy an Inter shirt?"

"When I saw the newspapers you left for me".

"It was a joke", he said, annoyed.

"This is a joke too".

"A joke is supposed to be funny".

"Really, Rúben? So you thought I would laugh at what you did to me?"

And it was back to square one. But at least this time you travelled separately. And, even if he pissed you off so much since he beat Madrid, you still wore his shirt to the match. You didn't even wear a Madrid one to the semis and he really thought you'd wear an Inter one now? Silly boy.

But all the jokes and digs meant nothing when you saw him lifting the trophy. Your eyes watered immediately and you couldn't wait to hug him.

"You…you won", you said, sobbing and hiding your face in his neck.

"Yeah, sorry about that".

You both laughed and he held you tighter while you cried.

"I'm really proud of you, you know?"

"Even if I beat your team to win the trophies?"

"Yeah", you said, looking up at him. "Even then. Seeing you after you won just…I didn't expect it to mean so much".

"It means a lot to me that it means a lot to you".

You hugged in the middle of the pitch, forgetting about everyone else.

"Besides, you still have a long way to go to catch us so…we like doing charity work and letting others win every once in a while".

Rúben laughed and shook his head. "You are the most unbearable fanbase in the world, you know?"

"I know. But at least you managed to get one of us to be happy you won today".

[genericpuff]

Hi! Maybe this is a difficult question with no answer, but as a fan of Rekindled who might want to start their own comic, what do you suggest to avoid burnout? Do you start wiht writting the script right away, you doodle a bit,..? Thanks for reading, I love how you draw big noses, makes me more comfy with mine!

no fr my dark secret is that i've been experiencing burnout with my main original project that I've spent the last decade working on for literally a year now. this isn't the first long hiatus i've taken, the longest one i've ever been on has lasted two years, and it's undoubtedly not the last i'll experience because the lump of salt and fat and tissue that is my brain often overworks itself into exhaustion like a big dummy

rekindled has been my reprieve from the burnout. it has been my vacation from years of working on the same project, meeting the same deadlines, drawing the same characters, over and over and over again since before i was in college.

if there's anything working on rekindled has made clear to me, it's that i'm still capable of drawing comics. the comic-making isn't the problem. it's just that when you work on the same project for years and trap yourself in an uphill battle, eventually your climbing gear is bound to break.

if there's another thing that rekindled has opened my eyes to, it's the insanity that i put myself through prior to rekindled that led to my burnout in the first place.

i get people telling me that they couldn't imagine doing what i do, that even before i had my assistant helping me out, i was still able to put out 30-40 panel updates every week.

but before that, i was putting out 70-90 panel episodes of my original work. every week. full color. full spread action scenes. no assistant. very little financial gain aside from a couple patrons on patreon and one dedicated viewer on twitch, which i was also streaming on 2-3 times a week.

and now that i've been working on rekindled and even finding myself often crunched for time with that, i have zero clue, no idea, a complete lack of comprehension of how i pulled off 70-90 panels a week for months on end. there's a reason it resulted in burnout and i know that now. this comparison is not for the sake of a flex - this comparison is to make it clear that much of what i do isn't the norm and isn't exactly a healthy standard. case in point, i sneezed while sweeping up yesterday morning and it caused a muscle strain in my lower back/hips and i've been working out of my bed since, i'm in a lot of pain and it might mean i don't make any money this week if it's not better by the time i have to do my appointments at my day job on thursday. my need to create my personal passion projects is often at odds with my bad habits of not taking care of myself 。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。

when it comes to tackling burnout, your guess is as good as mine. really it just comes down to rest. when burnout - real, true burnout - hits, it's not just "man i'm bored of working on this", it's "i can't even think of looking at this thing let alone working on it", it's basically akin to depression and it's an awful thing that i wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy (even with Rachel, I don't want to psychoanalyze her mental health but it does seem like she's possibly been experiencing burnout with LO for years now and that really sucks for her if that's true). so the solution is just as complicated as the cause, it's not something that you can just rest from for a week and come back from, it takes real long-term healing.

when I found my way out of that 2 year hiatus, it was in spring of 2019 and I decided to just work on a random comic page that wasn't even in the comic I was working on. and then suddenly it was like a switch flicked back into the on position and i didn't even finish what i was working on, i just went back to my original project and i kept working on it until it was finally finished at the end of 2021. as suddenly and randomly as it had set in, it was gone. but i can't just do the same thing this time, it just doesn't work that way.

that said, through all this, i've learned that my need to create is not restricted to any one tangible thing, i'm not doomed or designed to stick with the same words, the same faces, the same ideas until the end of time. while i do try to keep up healthy routines for myself to ensure i'm looking out for my future self and their deadlines and their upload schedules, sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants. and in my case, the heart wanted to take a break from the self-reflective psychological analysis dark fantasy weebo stuff and just draw some pink and blue characters a little less ugly. the self-reflective weebo shit will still be there when i'm done with the pink and blue stuff, and i'll surely have loads of new things to unpack through it once i return.

there are still times when i'm working on rekindled and i'm feeling the creeping hand of my routine destruction digging its claws into my back. the reality is that 30-40 panels is still a lot for someone like myself who's doing this entirely for free, but my definition of normal for a while was so insanely inhumane that even what's still considered a lot by most people's standards feels sane and normal to me after what i put myself through.

i've learned to be more gentle with myself, and to loosen my own expectations of what i'm capable of to ensure i don't do anything like that to myself, by myself, again. i give myself room to create without expectations or the pressure of eyes watching when i can, and i remind myself that even if burnout rears its head again, and again, and again, the will to create is not gone. it's just tired, and resting, and growing, and healing as i am.

anyways that turned into a self-reflective essay post, to answer your question about making stuff ahead of time, i find that's more helpful with just like, planning out a structured story (so you don't write yourself into a corner) but whether or not it helps with burnout kind of depends. because it can just as also easily be the cause of the problem because constantly seeing the stuff you wanna be drawing so far away can be just as much of a morale killer as a motivator. some of the stuff i'm super psyched to write and draw with time gate is years away and that timeline grows longer the more the burnout goes on which makes the struggle feel even more overwhelming and pointless and defeating. so plan ahead, but keep it all within your means if you can. i find what works for me is planning out just general beat-to-beat plot structures (to ensure i at least have a plot skeleton going on so i know where i'm going) then i leave the finer details to when the actual episode i've planned gets closer to fruition and i can get myself in the headspace to write it fully.

also remember that just because you're really excited and motivated to work on your comic doesn't mean you should work yourself into exhaustion - it's a good thing if you're going through the mundane of your daily routine and the whole time you're hyped af to work on your hobby/personal project/etc. because that's what will keep you moving forward, so don't spend all that hype in one place by working and working and working until you're exhausted, because that hype is REALLY hard to get back after you've spent it all.

long post over! hope that helps! best of luck in your projects! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[sister-juniper]

Cheater? (Terzo x Reader)

Angst with a happy ending :)

Summary: due to Terzo’s recent change in behavior, you assume the worst, but your assumption couldn’t be further from the truth

< Word count: 2359 >

my AO3

my Wattpad

—————————————

The past few weeks you have been noticing things being off. More specifically, things have been seeming off about your partner Terzo.

It all began when one night Terzo was 2 hours late arriving back to your shared quarters after his daily duties as Papa. He apologized, and you didn't think much of it, but it started to happen more and more frequently that he would be late.

You first brushed it off as Sister Imperator keeping him busy with extra work, as you knew that woman was a bit of a hardass when it came to Clergy business. However, this pattern continued for several weeks.

As the days passed, you grew more and more suspicious of what was actually going on.

You would question "Terzo, you keep coming home late. What is keeping you late almost daily??"

And he would respond "Mi dispiace amore, Imperator has been preparing me for the upcoming tour"

you nodded, and hoped he was telling the truth. After all, he was right. Him and the ghouls were going to be heading off on tour in a few months which did require extensive preparations.

It would be one thing if this was the only thing that was different with him, but this was not the case.

He started becoming more secretive. When you suddenly would enter into rooms he was in alone, you would notice him scramble a bit to hide whatever he was doing on his phone. Now this was incredibly suspicious.

You would shoot him a puzzled look and he would just shrug as if he had no idea what you were on about. It was driving you almost insane that he was acting like there was nothing different, even though there clearly was.

Things got to such an extent that the two of you stopped spending as much time together as usual. Terzo always seemed a little anxious around you, and that paired with the fact he was always "working" late didn't help.

After the second week passed with these things going on, you noticed fellow Siblings of Sin acting a bit weird around you too.

Whenever you would walk past a group of them, or into a room, it seemed that all eyes were on you. They would smirk and whisper to each other. You couldn't hear anything that they were saying, but your brain always assumed the worst.

How could you not assume the worst? How could stares, smirks, and whispers ever mean something good??

It seemed like almost the entire congregation knew something you didn't, and it drove you insane.

Was it something to do with Terzo? You prayed to Satan that it had nothing to do with him.

You and Terzo had been together for quite some time, over two years to be exact.

He had taken a liking to you ever since you had set foot into the Ministry. He had been there on your initiation day, he was there for your first black mass, and he had made efforts to take any chance he could to speak with you at various Clergy events.

His feelings all became clear the day he pulled you aside, took your hands in his, and asked you out on a date. That was two months after you joined the Ministry.

You were like two peas in a pod, completing each other. His extrovertedness balanced out your introvertedness, and the other way around.

The two of you could make hours of conversation, you both had so many things in common. You were both musical, both singers, and he taught you what he knew on guitar and piano.

He would place his hands over yours and teach you simple but beautiful songs on the piano. He would even pitch to you his song lyrics for Ghost, and ask for your opinions and criticisms.

You were with him throughout the recording and release of the "Popestar" EP, and you even had a part in writing the lyrics for their hit song, "Square Hammer".

You loved him dearly, and he loved you even more. He would tell you this multiple times each day. He would wake you up every morning with a kiss and asking you how you slept.

Before he left every day he would say "ti amo" and kiss you as deeply as he could before having to leave you each day. His kisses showed the desperation and sadness that he felt having to leave you every day, it was obvious he cherished you deeply.

Terzo was also amazing at planning dates. He would surprise you with your favorite bouquet of flowers, and take you to do various fun activities of all categories.

Some dates would be more casual and playful, such as the amusement park or bowling alley. Or they would be more formal such as a fine dining restaurant or wine tasting event. Both of these types you loved equally.

Your relationship was perfect, no fighting, and whenever the two of you had disagreements they would always be resolved peacefully. There was no lying nor yelling. You respected and loved each other.

All of this is why Terzo's current antics made you incredibly anxious and also upset. You feared the absolute worst, you feared he was losing interest in you, or even worse, cheating on you.

Before the two of you had become an item, you knew he had a promiscuous reputation. He was constantly sleeping around with Siblings of Sin. You were told the love he had for you was incredibly rare, and he hardly ever saw anything special in the people he took to bed.

It made you incredibly elated when you realized that you were the exception, that he saw something special in you. You had crushed on him ever since you arrived, but had absolutely zero hope he felt the same. He did however feel the same, but now you were wondering if that was ever true at all.

You would have consistent nervous breakdowns. Crying in the bed you shared while he was out "working" became a common occurance. It drove you insane with the thought he could be being unfaithful. You would sob and sob and hope that his change in behavior was all just some weird dream. You hoped you would wake up and everything would be back to normal.

You were confused on what to do. You didn't know if you should talk with him about it or not. You were worried that if you did, he would leave you.

You know you shouldn't be with a cheater, but you couldn't bare to lose him either. You'd rather stay with him being unfaithful than completely be without him.

After all, it would still hurt to walk the Ministry halls and probably see him with whatever new Sibling of Sin he chose to be his partner. It would crush your soul to a billion pieces.

After another week of consistent meltdowns, and contemplating, you decided to make the hard decision and just ask him about it. Maybe it could all be a misunderstanding? But you knew that was the best case scenario. What other explanation could there be for all of this weird behavior from both Terzo and your mutual friends?

You were sitting in the big bed in your shared quarters, awaiting his arrival at the end of the day. Your eyes were red from crying, but this time you made no effort to hide your tears. You wanted him to ask you what was wrong. You wanted him to see the pain he had caused you.

At 9:00 pm, two hours after he was scheduled to be finished with his Papal duties, you heard the key turn in the door.

Terzo opened the door with a smile on his face "Amore! I am back!!"

You said nothing, and just looked up at him with tears streaming down your face. His face fell when he saw your facial expression, and he immediately rushed over to the bed where you were sitting.

"Amorina... what is the matter? Is everything okay??"

You shook your head

"Okay... do you want to talk about it?"

Your lips started to tremble and more tears streamed down your face.

Terzo took your hands in his "It's okay, I am here now. I can do my best to help you cara mia..."

You took a deep breath before speaking "T-Terzo... what is up with you lately??"

He looked at you panicked but confused "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?? Do you not notice how weird you have been acting??"

"No... can you go into more detail?"

It angered you how he was essentially playing dumb. "Oh you know, how you have been late almost every day for the past three weeks"

Terzo opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. "Or how you hide your phone from me constantly, or how Siblings of Sin smirk at me and whisper whenever I'm around them" you spat out.

"Amore..."

"What is the meaning of all of this?? What could this possibly mean??" You yelled while tears streamed down your face

"Amore I-"

"Am I not enough for you? I love you so much Terzo... what is happening??"

"Cara just listen please..."

You took a deep breath trying to calm yourself before you got too angry. "Okay.."

"There is a good reason for all of this.. you will find out soon but I cannot tell you right now"

You shot him a perplexed look "what do you mean you can't tell me right now??"

"I'm sorry amore but I just can't, you need to trust me on this"

More tears began to prick at your eyes "what possible explaination could there be?? Why can't you just tell me now??" You shout at him while standing up

He follows your actions and also stands "Cara mia.. it's nothing bad please.."

"How the fuck should I believe that Terzo?" You shouted at him while turning to look at him

Your face was emotionless and cold, with a mix of exhaustion. You had been dealing this for too long, and you still couldn't get an explanation.

"I cry in here almost every day about this and you still won't tell me??"

Terzo's heart broke hearing those words. "Cara.. you cry every day? Why didn't you say anything until now??”

"Because I don't want you to leave me!!"

"Amorina... now why would I do that?"

"There is someone else isn't there??"

Terzo stared at your with total confusion and heartbreak. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?? Terzo, you have been acting incredibly suspicious. All the signs point to you being unfaithful..."

"But I would never! I promise you, that is so far from the truth"

You sigh angrily "okay so, if that is not the truth, then what is?? What is the possible explanation??"

Terzo sighs and tries to take your hands in his again, but you pull away from him. "Cara mia wh-"

"Tell me right now Terzo. What the fuck have you been up to?" You say coldly

Terzo realizes he can't hide it from you anymore, he has to tell you. No matter how much he wants to keep it secret, you need to know. It was clearly killing you to not know the truth.

He sighs deeply before speaking "Amorina... the reason I have been acting like this is because I have been planning to propose to you.."

Your face changes from anger to shock in a split second "W-What?"

"Yes, that is the reason."

"B-but, how does it make sense?"

Terzo chuckles "Well.. I have been so late because I have been spending my time after work planning the proposal"

"Oh..."

"And the reason I have been secretive with my phone is because I have been searching for engagement rings"

"But what about the Siblings? Why are they whispering?"

"It is because most of them already know my plans, they all figured it out by now"

Now you can't help but feel extremely guilty. He had been planning a proposal, but your immediate assumption was that he was cheating.

Tears prick at your eyes once again, and you start sobbing heavily.

"Amore, are you okay? What is the matter now??" He says as he rushes to hug you

"I'm sorry Terzo, I'm so so sorry" you choke out through sobs

"No no amore, it is me who should be sorry, I am horrible at hiding these things"

"I can't believe I just assumed that, but you were planning to propose this whole time..."

"It's okay, it's okay. I was acting quite suspicious" he says with a light chuckle "I'm quite bad at hiding things"

You sniffle and look up at him "I love you Terzo"

He smiles warmly and looks into your eyes "I love you too amore, so so much"

He kisses you deeply and you melt into his touch. Your heart slowly starts to return to a normal beat as the relief washes over your body. He isn't cheating on you, he just wanted to propose. Wait... he wants to propose??

The realization hits you and you immediately pull back from him. "W-wait, you want to... propose?"

Terzo smiles warmly "Yes, that is what I am planning"

"Oh my gosh Terzo... you want me to marry you??"

"Why yes of course, who else would I marry?"

A huge smile crosses your face and you squeal in excitement while embracing him in a big hug. You squeeze him tightly and he laughs at your sudden burst of excitement.

"Of course I would marry you Terzo!! Oh my gosh!!"

"Well I'm glad you say yes, I guess the surprise proposal won't be super necessary now huh?"

You kiss him lightly and chuckle "you can still do it, I'm a sucker for a fancy proposal"

He sighs with some relief "good, good. I'm a sucker for those too"

To say the least, you are incredibly relieved and also elated at the thought of marrying Terzo. Your suspicions were the absolute opposite from the truth, and it made so much more sense.

—————————————

[amoristt]

PART 2 BAYBEEE this has completely revamped my love for marble hornets . anon i literally love u SOOO bad for reminding me of this time to binge the entirety of mh for the 10th time

-as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - wanna tip me? heres my kofi!

Escape Fate | Tim (Masky) x Reader Pt. 2

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"For fuck's sake!"

The engine of your car cries out as you jam the gas down to the floor. Rock spit out from your tires, fishtailing out as you struggled to juggle the steering wheel and hanging up the cell phone in your hand. Every couple of seconds your eyes would flick to the rear view just in case that... person was chasing you.

Tim was never known for his ability to answer on the first call. Sometimes the man wouldn't answer at all- you knew this. It was never an issue until now, your mind scrambling to focus on the road. You'd narrowly escaped with your life and it was all thanks to some masked stranger.

With an angry huff, you toss your phone onto the passenger seat and white knuckle the steering wheel, eyes fixated on the road. Flashes of your meeting with death play on rewind in the back of your mind like a projector. The deranged look on Alex's face down to the moment you'd locked eyes with your savior.

Your mind spins on where your destination lies, but it chooses your home. You drive in total silence, listening to nothing but the sound of your car and the wind howling through your cracked window. It's almost like being on autopilot, your eyes distant and far away as you pulled into the driveway. Somewhere deep in your brain, you knew that you should have gone to the police station, but yet you still pull yourself from your car and numbly unlock your front door before slipping inside without a word.

It only takes a few moments before you let yourself fall into your couch cushions. You'd been so close to death you swore you felt its breath down your neck. The warbled memories you have of the masked man force their way to the forefront of your mind. You had so many questions- who was he? Why had he given a shit to save you?

Why did he follow you out to the street?

The thought of him possibly not saving you, just choosing Alex first strikes you, and it draws a cold sweat from your skin. Perhaps you hadn't been saved at all.

Worry spreads like wildfire through you, and in seconds you're up and locking every single window in the house, double-checking any doorways. You want to put on the deadbolt for the front door, but then Tim couldn't get in. You settle back on the couch, glad that other than the coffee table and recliner chair, you had a perfect view of the front door in case anyone tried to break in. The only window was along the far wall with its blinds drawn. Still, sunlight filtered in through the cracks.

A clatter on the floor beside causes every fiber in your being to jump, but when you glance over the edge, you realize it's just your phone falling from your pocket onto the hardwood floor. The screen lights up.

Low battery.

You pick it up and send Tim an urgent message, demanding he come over as soon as possible. And if he sees Alex, run.

Exhaustion riddles you. It doesn't feel real anymore, the memories flashing through your mind. They seem like the frames of a movie now, warped and far away and quite frankly insane. It felt like a nightmare that you'd woken up from, not reality.

After a good sleep to collect yourself, you would go to the police and tell them everything that had happened. And when you woke up, maybe Tim would be there smiling at you from the chair and asking if you were alright. He would touch your face and kiss your forehead, climb onto the couch beside you, and pull you against him. He would make you feel safe.

The idea comforts you enough to lull you to sleep.

--

You don't dream of anything. In fact, if the sun hadn't sunk down beneath the horizon and cast the world in night, you wouldn't even have known you slept at all.

Groggy-eyed and tired, you crack your eyes open. The first thing you notice is how unbelievably dark it is. From your position on your back, looking straight up, you can't even make out where the ceiling begins. Your eyes struggle to adjust, finding the only light in the room to be the streetlights cascading in through the window. With the blinds open on the far right, the light pours in just enough to fill the room midway in orange.

The second thing you notice makes your blood run cold underneath your skin.

You'd had your blinds completely shut when you fell asleep.

You were sure of it. But now they're open on one side. Your mouth runs dry.

Slowly, as if afraid to alert something, or someone, you roll onto your side and tap at the floor in search of your phone. When you're finally able to find it, you tap the power button. Then, when nothing happens, you feel your stomach churn.

It was fucking dead. You'd forgotten to plug it in before your slumber.

And to make matters worse, a third thing gathers all of your attention at once: movement.

Right across from you, perched up on the reclining chair, you make out a pair of jeans and heavy, dark boots. Fear strikes you like a lance. Your breath completely stops in your throat. In the dead silence, you're horrified to realize you can hear breathing that wasn't your own. Slow, long drawn breaths, like the figure was simply observing you.

Maybe it was Tim. You had messaged him hours ago, maybe he'd come in while you were sleeping and didn't want to disturb you.

"Tim?" Your voice cracks as you whisper, fear gripping you by the neck. Doubled when he doesn't answer. Tripled when those legs shift just barely. The energy seeping from the figure is downright evil.

Dread engulfs you as you realize your fate. It was Alex. It had to be. He'd broken in and waited for you to wake up like it was some sick fucking game to him, and trapped you within the confines of your very own home.

All alone, with your phone dead on the floor.

You hope you're just dreaming still. But then his breathing picks up and you're plummeted back into the awful reality that was your inevitable death. And instead of running, fighting, struggling for your life and doing something to get away, you just sit there. You remain still as a statue- like somehow he hadn't seen you. Like if you just don't move, neither will he. The moment is long and agonizingly silent, the air thick with tension, your lungs unable to bring in oxygen.

Time passes in slow motion and your eyes struggle to adjust to the everlong darkness. If you weren't abhorrently frozen with fear, you'd probably just burst out crying right there, pathetically begging for your life. You didn't want to die- not fucking now, when you knew the one finding your body would end up being Tim. Not by Alex, someone you considered your friend.

You always knew he'd been losing a few screws but for fucks sake this was murder.

"Please," You start, voice barely even above a dying whisper. "Don't hurt me."

That same feeling of death's breath on the nape of your neck returns to you. Goosebumps riddle your skin. The air so palpable you could reach out and grab it in the anticipation of his response.

The chair creaks. You almost gag on your tongue. The figure leans forward and rests his gloved hands on his knees. Light finally catches his features and you make out a white mask, with dark eyes and painted lips. That same mask that was running laps in your mind since you'd seen it.

Fear saps up and down your spine like electricity. The man had followed you home.

You hate that you stay stuck in place as he get's up from his crouched position and slowly saunters towards you. Like an animal, he climbs onto the coffee table and towers over you with shadowed eyes. Frantically, you search for something, anything human in those dark eyes. You find nothing but shadows. The man feels almost feral, tilting his head side to side as he drew closer to you. His gloved hand reaches out, and traces a line down your jaw, just barely touching over your skin.

Something in the way he touches you finally causes you to react. It makes the moment real, you could feel him touching you. You heave yourself up and try to scrabble off the couch, kicking your legs out. But he's faster. He's stronger- and in the blink of an eye, he grabs your shoulders and hauls you onto your back once more, forced to watch up at him with helpless eyes. When you try to shove him away, he catches your hands and pins them beside your head at the wrists. How simple it is for him to restrain you is terrifying. He wasn't even trying and he still managed to trap you in a second's notice.

"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" You babble, eyes squeezed shut and your legs uselessly kicking out. He straddles you and you sob in vain. "Please, my boyfriend will be here any moment just- just leave! I won't tell!"

But the man just tilts his head again. Does it like he doesn't understand.

You're already in tears when he barely loosens his grip on your wrists. Dreadful reality dawns upon you, and you realize you had been right after all. He hadn't saved you. You escaped him just as much as you'd escaped Alex.

Tears slip down your cheeks. He just inches closer until you can hear the sound of his soft breaths from behind his mask. If God was around, he'd hear your endless prayers begging for the strength to get away or for someone to help you.

But clearly, he isn't, because the man lets your wrists go just long enough to touch the sides of your face. Slowly, carefully, they pet down your skin and wipe away those tears freely falling from your wide eyes. And Christ, you let him. You could be fighting back, snarling and clawing. Instead, you're barely breathing, frozen and feeling your life tick away by the second.

He dips his head into the crook of your neck. Your fingers ball into fists beside your head, and you feel him breathing you in.

"What the fuck." You whimper, shaking like a leaf underneath his form. The seconds pass like hours.

After a tense pause, the only audible sound being your combined heavy breaths, he pulls his head away a few inches to look into your eyes. Though you struggle to see his, you can feel them on you like fire. Like those eyes are wrapping around your neck, choking your breath away.

And then you really do think your breath is stolen from you- gone when you feel the unmistakable texture of his gloves move once more. He runs his fingers down your bare neck, to your shoulder. Feather light touches over your collarbones that make you squirm underneath him. Those fingers linger over the line of your cleavage and your stomach flips.

They only stay for a few seconds. Then they're southbound which causes an even heavier pit of dread to settle in your stomach. His head tilts while he explores your clothed body, the fabric of your tank top bunching up around his fingertips. He moves them slowly, languidly, like he's exploring you. Trying to memorize the point where your waist meets your hips.

In the worst way imaginable, it feels... Familiar. You can't put your finger on it but you've been touched like this before, had the curves of your soft skin mapped out by wandering large hands. The same path, the same lingering pauses... The low sounds of his soft breaths reach your ears, and you recognize them.

Your chest heaves, your skin warm.

Only further blossoming in heat when the man leans back and you feel the weight of him rest on your hips. His hands settle on your waist, his burning gaze lingers over your form. The streetlight filtering in paints the outline of him. Glows in the loose strands of brown, messy hair.

Reveals his brown cargo jacket and the broad build of his shoulders. Your lips part in a gasp. His head lowers and you catch a glimpse of that unmistakable facial hair just as his fingers dip underneath the thin fabric of your tank top.

Your skin vibrates under his touch. You can't take it anymore.

"Tim...?"

You'd said it so quietly that you almost wonder if he'd heard it at all.

But he did. He freezes and snaps his gaze straight to you. The first real reaction you'd gotten out of him so far- and it only further confirms your question.

Your mind reels, thoughts spinning out of control. It feels like you're dreaming all over again.

The man- Tim, straightens his back as he stares down at you, his gaze heavy and undeniable. Even fully clothed underneath him, you feel naked. So exposed. His hands retract from under your shirt and rest at his sides loosely.

You'd always known Tim struggled with mental illness. Even early on in the relationship, it was a known fact after you'd found his medication. He always refused to elaborate beyond just telling you he was 'managing' it- and though you of course always felt a sense of curiosity to know more, you didn't want to pry. Plus, it was true. He was managing it. You'd never seen a single outburst, episode, or really... Anything other than some paranoia. And even that never got the best of him.

Just as you were his, he was your comfort, your peace.

But this was something else entirely. This wasn't even him anymore- it couldn't be. This man was too animalistic, moved too feral for it to be true.

Yet this appearance rang true.

His thick brown hair, and squared shoulders. His usual attire and those sideburns that only he could pull off.

But you had to be sure.

You had to be sure that they shared the same face. The same soulful, tired eyes.

To your shock, Tim doesn't react when you prop yourself up to your elbows. Nor does he react when you slowly reach up with a tentative hand and graze your fingers along the hard edge of his mask. You touch at the side of his face- the only visible skin. He sighs when you make contact, long and drawn, almost as if he enjoys the feeling. Just barely, he leans into the touch.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

Drops when you tug at the elastic band holding the mask to his head, and he finally reacts.

Violently.

Tim rips away from you like you'd burned him and stumbles backward, failing to climb off you properly and instead flipping over the armrest at your feet. You hear his back smack the hard ground with a thud and then absolute silence.

The silence only lasts so long. Because suddenly there's clamoring, his feet kicking out, and by the time you're up and peering over the edge of the armrest he seems to be full-blown seizing there on the floor.

Now this you had seen before.

Like every other time, you rush to his side, mind completely forgetting the entire scenario that'd happened moments ago. As much as you want to grab him, hold him close until it's passed, you know you can't. Instead, you kneel beside him, covering your mouth, silently begging for it to be over with, counting the time in 30 second intervals.

The light outside finally shines over his mask. You see his eyes through the gaps.

Thirty seconds.

His body tense, finger's balling into fists. You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes.

One minute.

You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Minute, thirty seconds.

"Tim!"

Finally, like he hears you, he stills. Your heart thrashes in your chest.

In the blink of an eye, you're pulling at the bands of his mask. It peels away with little restrain, and there he is.

Tim. Your Tim. His eyelashes resting heavy over his cheekbones- like he'd simply fallen asleep. Like he'd been here the whole time completely unbothered. His lips are barely parted enough for his soft breaths to creep through. You aren't sure if you should feel relief or fear. All you feel is raw confusion and anxiety eating you alive.

First Alex, now this? What the hell was going on?

Tim makes a soft sound and you look at him with wide eyes, cautious in the waking presence of the man you'd once felt to be your protector. What would you do if he remained the same as before? If when he opened his eyes, you were assaulted all over again?

Another quiet chirp escapes him, and you reach out to gently hold his face. When his eyes finally open, you're the first thing they see. A part of you tells yourself to back away just in case. The rest of you demands you stay planted beside him no matter what.

You listen to the ladder.

His gloved hands come up to paw at your wrists and for a moment, you're afraid your worries proved true. But then, in his low voice, he speaks. And you nearly collapse onto him, a puddle of solace.

"Baby...?"

[redrobin-detective]

Simon and Betty Roles and Relationships

So I watched the F&C finale and I, personally, loved it to bits but I can see some early rumblings of dissatisfaction. I can't say I got everything I wanted more Simon and Marcy dammit but I felt everyone's arcs resolved well. Especially Simon and Betty's. Allow me to ramble at length.

What really became clear to me in episode 9 is how much F&C Simon and Betty's relationship is a complete role reversal of their AT selves/relationship.

In both cases, you had one who was - through their own conscious actions - cursed to a non-human existence where they didn't have complete control of their thoughts or actions. They are separated from all their loved ones, including their True Love, and given relatively little agency in their own story.

And then you had the other, who watched their love become this non-human entity where they couldn't meaningfully interact. They become obsessed, consumed with saving their True Love, going as far as to ignore having a potential future in Ooo along with kidnapping and doing sketchy magic.

They got trapped in this tragic cycle of loss and insanity trying to save each other and all it did was cost their own happiness. What GOLBetty was trying to tell Simon was that they both made mistakes as humans in the past (her wrapping her entire life around Simon's to the detriment of her own desires and him for being oblivious to it and not considering her) but this cycle had to stop. They'd both made choices they regretted and the outcome wasn't what either wanted but it was the one they landed at. In e9, Simon admitted to "being sorry" for "wasting the second chance Betty gave him" because he was! He was still clinging to their doomed narrative. It was his final selfish act, to throw away the chance she gave up everything for and then force her to watch him scramble after her despite it being impossible. GOLBetty told him to break the cycle and he did.

I said earlier they made choices they regret, both as individuals and a couple but the love was real, it was true and it was now over. They will both carry that love but they cannot be together. Too many things got in the way and they would tear apart the universe trying to exist together. So Simon moved on properly, embraced this new world and life in Ooo. He devoted himself to his loved ones and made a life for himself that wasn't revolving around Betty. It was the healthiest things he could do for both of them.

As for Betty, Simon spent a thousand years as Ice King before he was freed. Some of those moments were good even if a lot of them were bad. She is a whole new type of being able to see and maybe somewhat control the chaotic forces of the universe. I imagine there are some aspects she did like. For example, how appropriate is for a woman who always made herself smaller and bent to the desires of others to be venerated as a Goddess with incredible power? There is no cure now but I like to imagine some day in the future - someone comes along and helps frees Betty from her self inflicted curse. Simon will be long gone I imagine having lived his own full life and died in peace. But now it will be Betty's turn for self discovery and a new chance at happiness.

Their story together was tragic and they both suffered greatly but a running theme of Adventure Time is that happiness is possible, you just need to find it. And for them, finding it meant letting go. I found it beautiful and sad and poignant and awful. I have other nitpicks with the finale but the resolution of their story -at least Simon's side of it - makes me feel settled. I would love to see a future installment giving Betty back her agency just like this series did for Simon.