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#to further support the addiction
llycaons · 1 year
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it's easy and convenient to fall into this trope, and many of my favorite fics have fallen victim to it in some way or another, but readings of wx that imply or outright state that lwj saved wwx make me want to gnaw my arm off. because I feel like that's rly insidious and simplistic and does a great disservice to both of them and is missing the point of his character and of their relationship development. as teenagers, lwj wanted to be his savior, saw him struggling and demanded that he comply with lwj's own solutions, believing his path to be correct and his own judgements about wwx's situation (and body!) to matter more than wwx's own. and that's why they clashed so much - bc wwx refused to give up his agency or his autonomy, did not want to be treated as someone to be saved
and in canon, that was never his role anyway. he couldn't, and didn't, swan in to save wwx from all of the worst things that happened to him, and his methods for behavioral control - shame, judgement, commands - were repudiated in retrospect. wwx suffered, and was alienated from his loved ones, and died a horrible, violent death, and was not saved by anyone. postcanon, lwj is committed to trusting and believing in wwx rather than trying to stop him - he's listening rather than demanding
I hate this phrase but it's actually incredibly important that lwj didn't ever save wwx 'from himself'. of course, postres he does protect wwx - from jc, from dogs, from slander - but he never inserts himself as the hero in wwx's story, and he never tries to force his own judgements and opinions on wwx again, nor claim that his actions entitle him to anything. he doesn't solve the mystery alone, he doesn't defeat the big bad, and the final get-together is never framed as a reward for his actions. he offers support, comfort, physical aid, but wwx is still very much the main character in every way, and retains all his autonomy to drive the story forward and reckon with his past on his own terms. and this is exactly why they work postcanon in a way that they wouldn't have really worked in the flashback arc
in cql, this is more immediately apparent because lwj follows wwx's lead throughout the entire arc, offering trust and aid without condition or hesitation. but even in the novel, it comes through quite poignantly in the tree scene at lotus pier. wwx thinks that it's okay that he's going to fall. he's fallen many times before, and though it's hurt, he'd survived. but still, it would be wonderful for someone to catch him. and that's exactly what lwj does
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d0vegum · 1 year
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Lol I remember when I was like on twitter 24/7 and I saw people be like “ugh I hate twitter” and it annoyed me but now I see the light that shit was a sinkhole
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amicus-siderum · 11 months
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You know what's not nice?
The education system.
#fuck the education system#I'm here forcing myself to stay awake at 3 in the morning just so that i can finish flashcards for a topic i have an exam on#my adhd ass tried to get it done earlier at a more reasonable time#unfortunately it didnt work but i HAVE to get it done#because if I dont i get bad grades and that fucks me over like pretty much lifelong#and you know what makes it worse#the examiners dont even appreciate that i actually UNDERSTAND the topic just because i dont use the STUPIDLY SPECIFIC phrasing they require#i know its been pointed out by multiple people many times now#but it really is just about memorising shit and not actually learning it#teachers also dont appreciate the effort put in#i know because i have a friend who puts so much effort into like further learning and making all her work really detailed#and the most acknowledgement shes ever received is like maybe a verbal “well done” in the same breath as a reminder that theres homework du#“the student experience” is known for the frequent all nighters and borderline caffeine addictions#and nobody is concerned about this!?#all this shit about implementing mental health campaigns and support and whatever and still so many students are fucking struggling#if not mentally then physically#do you know how much strain this type of lifestyle puts on people's bodies!?#i think i get maybe 5 hours of sleep on average and my bodys gotten used to that now. what kind of effect will that have on me in 5 years??#heart problems? digestion issues? cognitive disfunction? weakened immune system? All of those are possible effects of prolonged exhaustion!#i know im tired and im ranting#but i am genuinely pissed at how horribly wrong the education system is and how normalised all the things that stem from it have become#alright rant over.#thank you for listening
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hotvintagepoll · 3 months
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Propaganda
Jeremy Brett (My Fair Lady)—"...he was beautiful. A strange adjective to use in describing a man. I use it not to suggest effeminacy or a kind of male prettiness, but in the same way I would use it to describe a throughbred stallion, Michelangelo's David or Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. There was with Jeremy Huggins [Brett's non- stage name] a perfection and sublime symmetry in his features that was beautiful." [quote from "Bending the Willow" by David Stuart Davies]
Gene Kelly (Singin’ in the Rain, An American in Paris, The Pirate)—It’s hard to know where to start with Gene Kelly because he did so, so much, of such a high quality, from the ballet scenes in “An American in Paris” to the classy suave movie star act of “Singin’ in the Rain” to the incredibly camp, sexy “The Pirate”. He just never stopped finding cool ways to do things and he’s just brilliant to watch, especially when he’s dancing, but even when he’s doing drama or being silly! He’s one of those guys who could genuinely do it all and just radiates charisma through the screen, literally an #icon in every sense of the word.
This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Jeremy Brett propaganda:
"according to critic Kenneth Tynan a 'too beautiful' Hamlet."
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“Please take my humble offering of propaganda for bisexual icon ✨️Jeremy Brett✨️ and his early career!"
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"he’s such a himbo sunshine boy in my fair lady"
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“not technically propaganda because it won’t let me save the images but just found out my bi king jeremy brett played patroclus https://www.jeremy-brett.fr/crbst_183.html and also apparently dorian gray in the 60s and basil hallward in the 70s?? range.”
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"...as a dashing D'Artagnan in The Three Musketeers (1966/67) (Duelling is no problem! XD)”
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“dropping to sleep - Jeremy is far too handsome to play d'art and also too tall, lol”
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Gene Kelly propaganda:
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youtube
youtube
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youtube
"he was genuinely kind and supportive to judy garland when she was going through a rough time. she was having heavy trauma/addiction responses in 'Summer Stock' which led to her being late all the time and being too scared to come on set, and he actually faked twisting his ankle to distract everyone from her and give her some time off! so yeah, maybe he was a hardass, but when his friend needed him he was 100% there for her, and I think that's worth noting."
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mirkoluvs · 8 months
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★ SUPER SHY
sanji (opla) x fem reader
genre: angst to comfort !!
notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!
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you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.
“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.
“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.
finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?
“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.
you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.
is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?
before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.
“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.
the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.
after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.
“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.
soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.
“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.
“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.
once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.
your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .
“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.
“one fresh plate coming up!”
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© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
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hoeforalbedo · 2 months
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Dolly (Pt 2)
Human Alastor x Housewife!Reader
Pt 1, Finale
Tw: Murder, Forced Cannibalism, reader is described as a woman, dumbifying reader, mention of pregnancy, pregnancy.
Note: I guess I’m making this a series? I really want them to meet in hell. Also I really haven’t made it obvious bc I don’t want to erase Alastor being aroace. The way I see it, he’s kinda just toying with reader and grew obsessed once reader became a murderer.
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The morning after your delightful meal, you found yourself puking your guts out. The food did not agree with you at all. You wonder how Alastor’s body did not reject your food. Maybe it was all guilty’s conscience, but you’re not guilty for what you did.
Alastor holds your hair back, rubbing small circles on your back. “Oh my, what a way to start the morning. It makes me wonder if you’re perhaps pregnant.”
You shoot him a look, “Please do not say that, I beg of you.” No, you’re not pregnant, and Alastor knows you’re not pregnant. But if you are. . . That means you’re all to himself. You will have no choice but to depend on him even more. Even if you decided one day to leave him, you can’t. Nobody other man wants a tainted woman with children. Maybe one day he should get you pregnant.
Oh he absolutely knows that his dear wife has committed something awful and he’s proud of you, although he won’t admit it, yet. For now, he’s here to support you through the aftermath of your actions.
He could even recall his first kill, it was messy and uncoordinated, and the gore did not sit right with his stomach. But he hopes that his wife does not meddle in the business no longer. All you must do is sit pretty and be the doll you are. The sweet wife who cleans the house and cooks for him and cares for him dearly while being oblivious to the fact that your husband is out and about, killing many people.
But he’s curious. You might be just like him and the thought of that makes him want to grasp you in his hands tightly. To keep you all to himself and keep you away from anything that could take you away from him. At the same time, he wants to test you, push you further into insanity until there’s no more turning back and you’re addicted to the feeling of blood on your hands.
You’ve made a decision, you’re going to confess to Alastor. You can’t just keep him the dark about what you’ve done. “Alastor dear, so about Linda. . . I’ve. . .”
“No need to say more, ma cheri. I know.” He says, acting sympathetic towards you. He pulls you into a hug and you can’t help but burst into tears. He pats
“My dear, you’ve had such a bad morning so I believe you should go out and treat your pretty self with something,” He hums, combing your hair back.
“But-“
“I insist dear. Allow me to tend to the home and when you get back, you’ll be treated to a nice meal. How does that sound?”
Your lips pursed in thought. “Fine, but only because you insist.”
The phone rings.
“I’ll take that, mon cheri. Now I’ll allow you to get yourself all pretty and I’ll get you some money for you to spend.” He kisses your head and leaves you be.
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An outing is just what you needed, although it was not to relieve your nerves. You only felt guilt for having stained your hands with red. That matters not, anymore. Alastor says to relax and enjoy your outing and that is what you’d do.
Now that you’re out, Alastor prepares to go out. He puts his gloves, “I should prepare a freshly cooked meal for my dear wife. It’s about time I went hunting.” He hums to himself and leaves the house.
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The sound of chopping is heard through the kitchen. Chopped vegetables are put aside and Alastor is seen kneading a sort of meat. After he’s satisfied, he chops the meat and sets it aside.
“Let us see,” He says, squatting down to the body by the kitchen island. He reaches inside the abdomen, a squelch being heard as his hands move deeper. “Ah, there it is!” He says cheerfully as he cuts out the intestines.
After squeezing the contents out of the intestines, he looks up at the clock. “Oh dear me! It’s about time my dear Y/N comes home!”
It’s already 5 and he expects you to be home in about an hour.
He continues to grind away the other organs and meat before stuffing the intestines, making the sausages for the jambalaya.
After an hour has passed, you are back home. As you were about to reach for the handle, the door opened, revealing Alastor. “Welcome home ma cheri!” He greets you with a smile, pulling you in for a hug. You reciprocate and kisses his cheek. “What have you got there?” He asks, motioning to the bags.”
“Oh I’ve only bought a few dresses. Nothing out of the ordinary,” You shrug, putting the bags down.
“Then I should expect a show from you then, is that correct? Give me a little twirl in each dress?” His voice deepens as he tilts your head up to look at him.
“If that’s what my dear husband wants,” You say, almost as if you’re purring.
Alastor hums in approval and pulls your lips into a kiss. His arm around your waist, pulls you in, pressing your body against his. “Oh my pretty doll, you’ve got me all distracted.”
“And it is my fault?” She chuckles.
“Yes dear, it’s your fault for being so gorgeous, however I cannot complain about that. Come now, I’ve made jambalaya. Let us eat before it gets cold.”
You follow him immediately to the dining room. “How I love jambalaya. I’m grateful you’ve introduced me to one of your favorites.” You smile as you sat down. “You didn’t put shrimp?” You ask.
“I’ve decided to add some meat instead,” Alastor says, placing some food on your plate.
“Well anything you cook is delicious. I’ll enjoy every bite!” You beam.
The two of you continue to eat and chat. While doing the dishes, the door bell rings. “I wonder who that might be?” You say confused, not expecting any visitors.
Alastor goes to the front door and opens it with a smile. “Hello, how can I help you fine gentlemen?”
“We’re with the police, I’d just like to ask about your neighbors.” One of the officers say.
“Well of course!” Alastor remains to smile, however he is irritated, not that anyone notices.
“Who is it Alastor, dear?” You say, walking behind him. “Oh! Well hello officer!” You immediately put a bright smile. Alastor wraps an arm around your waist.
“Yes, you must be this fine gentleman’s wife. We’d just like to ask if you folks know anything about Mrs. Linda and perhaps Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.
“Connor? Well what could have possibly gone wrong?” Alastor says in confusion.
“Well officer, last night we got a call from dear Connor and just earlier before that, I believe during the afternoon, Linda paid me a small visit,” You answer.
“Is that so? Well ma’am, did she enter the home?”
“Yes she did. Just for a couple minutes though.”
“Anything in particular happened? Arguments, anything?” The officer pushes on.
“Oh of course not! Linda and I may only be acquaintances but I do not harbor such ill feelings for her.”
Alastor squeezes your waist, “You see, my dear wife is far too good for her own good. Far too oblivious to the world, but who can blame her. She’s a doll after all.”
You smile at the officers, looking very innocent.
“Why, I see why you married such a beautiful lady,” The officers chuckles. “Well did she say anything before she left?
“No sir. . . Well she did complain about how she suspects her husband of have a mistress,” You answer.
Alastor adds, “The couple do tend to have a tendency for infidelity. There’s neighborhood rumors of one of the kids not even being Connors’! It’s no surprise though. They say Linda sleeps with other men.”
You gasp, “You mean that man she was with that one day-!”
“Oh no need to worry your pretty little head about it. That is not our problem,” Alastor says.
“And the call you received from Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.
“Oh he just called to thank my dear wife for her generosity. She was kind enough to bake the family a pie. She’s a rather good cook,” Alastor answers with a smile.
“Well you see, both of the couples are missing and have left their kids unattended.”
“Oh that’s awful! Are they okay?” You ask with worry.
“They sure are. If you happen to hear anything about them, please do give a call, thanks for your time,” The officer nods and leaves.
After Alastor closes the door, you immediately broke into a sob. “They’re out to get me Alastor! They’ll get me!” You cling to him.
“My dear you won’t, I promise you they won’t. I’d do anything,” Alastor says in a hushed voice.
“I-I’m the last to have seen Linda and Connor! Now Connor is gone too! What if they think I am the one who killed him!” You cry hysterically.
“My dear, have you not seen yourself? No one would believe that a small thing like you could have possibly killed someone,” he reasons.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course dear.”
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“Must you really go, Alastor?” You plead, grabbing his hand.
“I’m afraid I cannot skip out on work today, mon cheri. But what if they get me? What if I can’t see you again?” You say with worry.
Alastor chuckles. Your clinginess used to be something that annoyed him but not finds adorable. “Remember what I said last night?”
You nod.
“So you’ll let me go right?”
You nod and let go of his hand.
“Good. Now I’ll be back later, my dear.” He kisses your forehead and walks out the door.
He in fact did not come home that night. He was found dead, a bullet to his head. You never landed on the suspect list, as Alastor was found to be the serial killer of New Orleans.
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yoursweetwife · 7 days
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warning: female reader, mostly fluff, mentions reader wearing dresses,
synopsis: Ratio has his own ways of showing his love
p.s some thoughts on how Veritas can take care of the reader because he is clearly very terrible at words
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What Ratio does best is talk. Regardless of the topic, he will always find something to say, the words themselves will flow like a river, making an indelible impression on those around him.
However, when it comes to love, he becomes completely quiet. Rarely can you hear “I love you” or “I missed you” from his lips; most often this happens in very intimate and important moments, when he leaves his pride behind and completely surrenders to his feelings.
It's hard to say it didn't bother you. You perfectly understood what kind of person he was, and you didn’t blame him, but it was sad when Ratio just nodded when you said you loved him, or didn’t offer verbal support when you needed it, because you were capable of handling it on your own.
And he didn't lie! Ratio knows that you are a strong and capable person who has achieved everything on his own, so small problems shouldn't bother you, right?
And it seems hypocritical, considering that he constantly took advantage of your love. You always knew how to comfort him, even on his worst days. However, words remain just words, while actions speak volumes about more.
Most of the time, Ratio can't find the words to praise the new dress that fits you so wonderfully, or to say words of comfort when something bad has happened in your life.
But if you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice how his eyes begin to sparkle every time he notices your new outfit or hairstyle. A slight blush appears on Ratio’s cheeks, and his eyes hesitate to meet your smug face.
Or how his confident facade crumbles when he sees you after a long absence. No matter which of you was on a business trip, Ratio always brings pansies to a meeting and gives them as if nothing had happened, as if he had never read about the meaning of the flower.
And how he uncertainly looks at your crying figure from the doorway. And at the same moment he is next to you, offering comfort in the form of a hug and a kiss on the head.
Ratio's big hand constantly holds any part of your body. In public, his hand will intertwine with yours so as not to “lose you,” or he will place it on your back to gently nudge you in the right direction. It's hard for people to tell if he's enjoying it, but you can definitely tell that Veritas is enjoying it, it's easy to tell by the way the soft smile, meant only for you, spreads across his face, and by the gentle pressure on your hand.
And his most favorite action is to place his hand on your soft thigh, be it at home while you are relaxing on the sofa or bed, or in a public place, so he always sits next to you to make it easier to reach, basically this is a very innocent action , although sometimes he wants to go a little further.
Far from human eyes, it is very difficult for Ratio to stop physical contact. Unfortunately, he became too addicted to it. Previously, the only way for him to relax and clear his brain was bathing, but now all he needs to do is find you, hug you and bury his nose in your fluffy hair.
There's no use trying to loosen his grip, and who would want to refuse this big guy who's looking at you so pleadingly. You were always amused by his manner of sitting next to you and glancing in your direction, quickly turning away when you looked at him. A clear sign that he needs hugs and kisses.
And even bathing began to feel strange without your presence. And this makes Ratio nervous, because the bathroom is the only place where he could clear his mind, and now his head is filled only with how empty the space between his legs feels, where you usually sat.
Veritas always reads a book before bed, and he takes it seriously, but he really enjoys reading while his head rests on your stomach, thighs, chest, using them as a makeshift pillow. However, his favorite position is when he is sitting and you are lying on his chest, resting your head on his chin.
The sight of your sleeping body is the best way to end the day. It’s a pity that you can’t see his soft smile and loving gaze at this moment. Just like your happy face doesn’t reach his eyes when he says three cherished words.
Ratio doesn't know how to express emotions in words, but his actions speak louder than words.
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tonixe · 4 months
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I dare you to do the darkest, dirtiest, most disturbing shit with Coriolanus peacekeeper
⤑ GRIM REAPER
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A/N: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE! UGHH, I love possessive coriolanus, he is so sexy when he has authority, man I love him.
WARNING: p in the v, non to dub-con, love bombing, gaslighting, fear, hitting, kidnapping, coercion, hair pulling, bondage, forced mudpie, oral sex (male receiving), jealousy, cum eating. *** coriolanus being possessive and obsessive.
PAIRING: Peacekeeper!coriolanus x district!reader
WORD COUNTER: 2.5k
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Born into the district—born into a life of hardships and pain...you were luckily born to two parents, and though you weren't financially stable you managed to enjoy a happy with your family. You had 3 siblings you had to look after, and whenever your parents went off to work, life was stressful but every time you got to see their faces smiling you were also satisfied.
When you got older you got a part-time job, at the vendor selling food, it was owned by an old couple who graciously gave you the job, though it wasn't a lot of money you took to support your parents. They asked to take a shift that was deeper into the night, so you accepted the offer, needing the money. Holding yourself up at the cart, waiting as you called out for customers, feeling yourself getting tired as the second. Stretching your arms out, as you looked further into the night. The night there were more Peacekeepers out, inspecting the district, it slightly made you feel apprehensive at the armed men walking through the area.
Your eyes hesitantly look and watch their movements, brushing the dust off your aprons, fixing your hair as your hair stuck to your neck from the humid air. Hearing footsteps inching near you, as you looked up...you felt your heart dropping in automatic dread, at the blonde Peacekeeper in front of you. You cleared your throat before speaking up to him, "Could I interest you, Sir?" you asked, your voice quivering as you spoke just to keep a positive tone. You felt his eyes raking you. He nodded, "I'll have that" He pointed, as you nodded. His eyes looked at you as you wrapped it up, "Have I seen you before?" He questioned, you looked up at him, "I don't think so..." You smiled at him, as you quickly boxed it up. "Enjoy, Sir" You put your hand out gesturing for him to take the box, "Thank you," He said, taking the box from your hand, and you felt his rough hands against yours.
You watched as he took his leave...you finally got to breathe, releasing the pending oxygen in your lungs and exhaling through your nose.
From the simple exchange, Coriolanus found himself visiting you at your vendor stall. Though, your introverted nature, you reluctantly started talking to him. You told him little things about your life, but he was smart enough to connect the puzzle pieces that you told him and connect it back to your life. He found your coquettish antics cute...and after your shifts you found yourself spending time with him, and often the districts were hot and humid, spending time by the lakes.
His sky-blue eyes took the appearance of your disheveled form, but he found you still captivating—from your dress strap falling to your shoulder and your light dress sticking against your wet skin. He wanted to take a picture of you to save the memory...but Time after time, he found himself getting slowly addicted to you...his visits got frequent, and he would deliver little gifts or care packages to you such as medicine, food, or water. You were grateful for him doing this, but you didn't want to feel like a burden to him, at first you were hesitant to take the gifts but he would ensure that it was a gift for you.
You didn't think about the kind gestures he would do for you, but you would always thank him for what he did. Soon, his obsession with you was like a disease, it kept on spreading and spreading over time, every time he closed his eyes, it would be just you, even when he worked on his daily tasks, his mind would be infected with pictures of you. He would always prefer to be stationed somewhere near you, he would be observing you as you worked, he hated when you talked to other men that weren't him, and his obsession with you was unhealthy, It felt like he couldn't last a day without or seeing you, sometime he would show up unannounced with a bouquet of roses in his hands surprising you.
The first time it was a nice gesture, and you loved it but it started again and again, his presence was almost suffocating to you, and when he asked you the question, you felt fear of saying no to him. But you knew if you were to say 'yes' it would get worse, so you told him to give you some time to think about it, he nodded but you knew he was displeased.
You had a plan to just run away, but you knew sooner or later he would catch you, you shivered at the thought. Knowing that your family would be harmed in the invasion, your ear perked at the sound of the door, you dragged your feet to the door, opening it up. It was him, a bouquet of roses in his hands, his Arctic blue eyes staring at you. It was haunting, he cleared his throat before talking, "So..have you made your decision?" every word he said made your heart pump faster, your flight response ringing alarms through your body to run.
"Coriolanus..um" you stopped mid-way, looking at him in his eyes, "I do thank you for what you do for me, but—I barely know you, and I don't think we would..be good together" you finished your sentence, feeling an eerily feeling in your gut, "Why" that all he said, you looked again at him. It looked like a shadow was cast, his bright sky blue eyes that he looked at you with, were darkening as he spoke.
"For all I do for you, you choose to deny me" The volume of his voice increases, and you force yourself to look at him as he yells at you, he laughs for a short while, before grabbing your jaw, "I protected you, I have done everything for you" you eyes watered from his grip, "I think you should leave, Corio" you whispered, it felt like whip when you used his nickname in that sentence, he released your jaw. His hand was in your hair down, pulling you down, as you felt tears threatening to be produced, his rough hands pulling on your hair, making your scalp hurt, "Corio..please!" You exclaimed, he started to say something else, every word uttering from his word was like venom to an open wound. He threw down the bouquet of roses onto the floor
Your knee felt weak as you fell down onto the floor, hearing his footsteps receding, and the sound door being slammed closed. Tears dripping down from your cheek, the bouquet of roses on the floor, as the petals were scattered on the floor, it was some sick remember of Coriolanus. Days passed, and you saw roses on your doormat, every day it would happen, and you felt fear looming over you.
Every time the color would change from pink to a deep red, they varied every day.
But you went back to your job, selling at the stand to the deep of night, noticing the tie, you quickly packed the cart up for tomorrow and rolled it back to where the old couple resided. You sang to yourself as the wheels of the cart rolled against the broken concrete before you knew it, you felt a hand wrapping your torso, and something else like cloth suffocating you, you tried to scream, but it went deaf in your throat, succumbing to the cloth as you closed your eyes, fainting into the strangers hands.
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Your eyes fluttered open, as your eyes wandered around your surroundings. You felt your legs numb, as you tried to stand up, but couldn't, looking down at yourself, rope wrapped around your body. You tried not to move from the friction of the rope hurting you.
Your ears perked at the sound of footsteps,. "Your finally awake, my dove" He walked towards you, taking a knee when he got a good look at you. His fingers caressed your cheek, "We were meant for each other, Y/N" He whispered, you started shaking when his hands lowered, and you turned yourself away from him before he withdrew from him. Before he grabbed you by your jaw, forcing you to look at him, "Do I scare you, am I that ugly that you don't want to love me, Y/N" You shook your head immediately, "Then why.." He growled, and you felt tears on your cheeks, "Don't try to use your crocodile tears on me, Y/N" He glared at you.
You looked away from him, as you sniffled, "Fuck, you don't know what you do to me.." he traveled his finger over your lip, parting it, as you stared at him. Before he kissed you, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth, you felt yourself crying more, as you bit down on his tongue. He withdrew from you, the trail of blood on his lips. His haunting chuckle echo in your ear, "You fucking bitch" He held his jaw. He stood up from the floor, looking away from him.
You heard the sound of belt jingling, your eyes widening at the sight, of his cock in his hand, "Corio, no..please' you begged, your felt yourself crying more, his footsteps inching near you, he slapped his cock on your cheek, it was degrading. "Open," He said, and you felt your lips trembling at the size, "N-no" you whispered, and he repeated himself again, you turned away before he pried your lips open and forced himself into your mouth, making you gag. His hands were in your hair, as he dragged you against his cock, fucking into your mouth. Salvia dripping down from your chin, his groans ringing out in your ears.
"Fuck, you're doing so good, sweetheart" He looked down at you, as your tears filled your vision, he smirked looking at your vulnerable form, before he thrust himself into you. You felt his hot load going down your throat, "Swallow" He said, and you obeyed, The bitter taste coating your mouth, his hands caressing your cheek, "Good girl" he smiled at you. Before he released your jaw, your eyes looked down at the floor, before you heard him tucking himself into his pants.
Days passed,
He treated you with kindness, gifting you a rose, and caressing your back as you lay on his lap, but you managed to convince him to remove the rope around your body. He would braid your hair, comb it, and treat you like a doll. It kept on happening, you started worrying about your family if they were currently looking for you. "Coriolanus, can I visit my family, please" He stopped combing your hair, and he down at you, "Do you deserve it?" He asked, "Please" you begged, sitting up as you looked at him. He breathed out, looking away from you.
"I deserve it, you kidnapped me against my own will!" You stood and yelled, he just glared at you, as he stood up. His height towering over you, "You don't need them at all, I..can give you what you need. you don't need them" He yelled at you, grabbing your shoulder as he forced you to look up at him. "No, I never asked for you to do anything, you came up to me. You did this just to do it, Coriolanus" You yelled at him, finally using his full name instead of the nickname you gave me, you felt your cheek throbbing, his hand harshly hitting you, before he grabbed you by your shirt, "I will fucking kill you and your family if you leave me, Y/N..do you hear me" He lowered his voice, you were shaking. His eyes softened at you crying, before he held you not a hug and you held him, his hands rubbing your back, soothing you.
"Just not now, Y/N.." He whispered and kissed your forehead, you felt sick to your stomach. The next day, he apologized to you, and you were forced to accept, he covered you with kisses and love, and gifted roses.
A month passed still being caged by Coriolanus, but you got some freedom from him, but you weren't allowed to leave a tall. he had surveillance on you. He always reminds you that he loved you, did kind things with you, and surprised you with flowers like he always did. Red roses everywhere,
You stared at the window, it was fairly getting dark, and no signs of Coriolanus coming back. You wanted to escape but knowing the consequence would be horrible if you committed the act, before you heard stomping from the door, your eyes looking at the furious Coriolanus in front of you. "How many men, have you slept with Y/N" You got up from your feet, looking at him incredulously, "What are you talking about?" before you felt a sting on your cheek, "Don't play dumb with me" He yelled at you, "How many" He repeated himself, "I —none, I didn't do anything, Coriolanus" you sniffled, before he took a fist of your hair, pulling you towards him, "Don't fucking lie to me, Y/N" He growled, "I'm not lying, please" He hit you a second time, this time it was worse, feeling your nose bleeding from the impact. He started dragging you to the bedroom, where he forced you to sleep, throwing you onto the mattress of the bed, you heard him taking off his belt, forcefully tying up your hands above you.
"Coriolanus, please' you screamed, kicking your legs everywhere, "Please-please, stop" you cried as he got on top of you, taking off your pants and panties in the same quick motion. Aligning himself against, before you felt himself inside of you, it was painful, horrible. He moaned against you, as he forced himself into you and out, thrusting his hips against yours, you screamed at him, hitting him on his biceps to stop.
Your screams were deaf to his ears, as he fucked himself into you, his cock tearing everything inside of you, "Please" you heaved, hitting him, his sky-blue eyes staring at you. Time passed slowly, purposely you felt, before he cummed inside of you, you screamed for him to stop and pull out but he didn't. You lay there motionless, dried tears on your cheeks and naked in front of him, "Don't touch me" you cried, flipping to the side away from him. He called your name again, but you ignored him, holding yourself, you rolled yourself into a ball and cried to yourself until you fell asleep.
When you woke up,, you didn't see Coriolanus, you looked at yourself, your bottom still exposed, a reminder of at the ordeal that happened yesterday. You stood up, putting back your underwear and your pants, before walking out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes still tired. There was something on the table, as you walked, it was a bouquet of fresh roses and a note attached to it with his handwriting.
You covered your mouth, and you fell to your knee and cried to yourself, knowing that he wouldn't let you go...the roses he gifted you are just a reminder of his torment.
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764 notes · View notes
sporadicbeans82 · 2 months
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The Rivalry || Arsenal Women x Reader
Summary: You've fallen back into old routine, but will your teammates notice in time to help you?-- based off of "Flora" by Hey, Nothing.
Warnings: Centered around drug abuse and addiction. If this is something which triggers you, please do not read this piece of fiction. Poor mental health, very brief mentions of self harm and disordered eating, a solid chunk of angst & comfort, please let me know if I have missed anything.
A/N: I was going to properly edit this but the wheel I rolled decided to just post it. I'm sad, so have this fic :)
Special thanks to @girlgenius1111, @greynatomy, & @ilovemeadema for all your help. I appreciate each of you!!!
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Your life has always been a series of rivalries. You’d spent the majority of your formative years competing against your friends for starting positions on your youth football team, whilst competing for spots on your youth international team. 
In college, you played for the North Carolina Tar Heels and competed often against your school’s known rival, Duke. You threw your everything into each match you ever played for the college, but there always seemed to be extra charge on the table when it came through your sworn rivals. 
You signed for Arsenal just out of college, traveling abroad and leaving your family in the name of getting better and playing for a club that you’d secretly supported since childhood. Your rivalry then, of course, was Chelsea. 
See, all your life had always been a series of rivalries against other people and other teams. Never, in all your years, had you ever anticipated that your biggest rivalry would be against yourself. 
You think it had probably stemmed from the first time you’d suffered a serious injury on the pitch in college. You’d suffered a blow to your ankle. They’d given you little white pills to help stave off your pain, and you knew that your family had a history of drug addiction, so you tried to wean yourself off of them as soon as you could tolerate it. 
The remaining pills, however, had stayed in your dorm room drawer with all of your other medicines. It had taken you only a few months to open the pill bottle, driven by curiosity and overwhelming sadness. Your friends had been graduating, which meant that some of your favorite people were leaving you to move on with their adult lives. On top of that, you were struggling with a class and working through your grades which was causing you a lot of stress. The nail of the coffin had been that you’d found out that your mother was terminally ill, with cancer. 
You remembered the numbness and floatiness you’d felt when you’d taken the pills whilst recovering from surgery. You hadn’t had to feel the pain and had lived in your own little world, peacefully separated from the things which plagued you. It was exactly what you needed. 
You wondered if they’d do anything to numb you again. This time, however, you sought emotional numbness rather than pain relief.
You dipped your fingers into the orange bottle and took out a little white pill. You rolled the medication in between your fingers before slipping it between your lips, letting it rest on your tongue for only a moment. You hesitated, wondering if this was truly the right decision. However, the tears on your face stung against the skin of your cheeks and your heart throbbed to nearly an unbearable extent. You felt cornered, like you were left with no choice but to try to find a way to deal with what was happening, and so you dry swallowed the pill before you could think about it any further. 
You’d spent the afternoon on a cloud, staring at the wall of your dorm room while the television played your comfort show. You weren’t happy, but you weren’t sad. You were just what you’d desired to be, numb. Your mind was quiet, thoughts stilled, and you convinced yourself that this allowed you to help deal with and comprehend what was going on in your life. 
When the effects of the little white pill wore off, however, the pain came back… and so you took another. 
Once you went through the entire bottle, you were forced to find other ways to deal with the things which plagued your mind and body. You found other ways to control your pain, by restricting the amount of food you ate, by working out more, by drowning yourself in alcohol. None of it worked as you desired, but you had no other option. 
You managed to keep it a secret from your college teammates, as you only dipped into these harsh coping mechanisms every once in a while. Once, however, one of your teammates caught on to your struggles as you’d been losing a lot of weight. Alessia Russo, a senior, had confronted you and helped you to get some help. 
Alessia and the girls were there for you, of course, but then they’d graduated and you were left alone again. The loneliness was near-crippling, but with the help of your therapist and regular calls with Alessia, you were able to retain your sobriety throughout the rest of your college years. 
You’d moved to Arsenal out of college, and you’d been successful for the years that you’d been there. However, even as you continued to try harder and harder to better yourself, everything seemed to be failing and you couldn’t figure out why. 
Perhaps it was in the early morning hours of a new day. You should have been in your bed, buried deep in the comfort of your duvet. You should have been resting for the training session that you were supposed to be getting up for in just a few hours. 
Instead, here you were, sitting with some of your more recent “friends” in the alleyway between two abandoned buildings in North London. You were high as a kite, not entirely sure what you’d been given but more than happy to be on it. Sitting with your back slumped against a wall and your legs bent against your chest, you were able to ignore the pressures of being one of the younger Arsenal players. 
You were able to ignore the fact that you hadn’t scored a goal in nearly two months. You were able to put aside the fact that you’d cost Arsenal an important game just the week prior, by carelessly getting a red card in the 42nd minute. You’d gotten into a shoving match with another player, leaving your teammates with ten players against a dominant Tottenham team. 
You could stop thinking about how you’d been taken out of Arsenal’s starting XI, despite being a pivotal piece of the lineup since you’d signed for the team a couple of months back. You didn’t have to think about the number of people who were counting on you, and the mass amount of people who you were disappointing. You were trying your best, but your best was not and had never been enough. 
When you felt all high and floaty, you felt like you were separated from the person who suffered from thousands of online hate. The media enjoyed hyper analyzing your poor performance from the last few weeks, and many fans were quick to pick up on it. You’d become the laughing stock of women’s soccer, something which you were entirely too aware of whenever you opened your phone. You were bombarded with hate, despite having disabled comments on your social media accounts. 
Everywhere you went, you saw the image of you sliding against the ground after a failed attempt on goal. If not that image, then you saw the one where you were shoving the Tottenham player back against the torn up grass, an angry scowl upon your usually-serene features. Your Arsenal teammates were gathered around you, and fans were quick to make light of the fact that Katie McCard herself was holding you back from swinging a fist at the Spurs player. 
Everywhere you looked, your mistakes and poor performances were highlighted, and you wanted to ignore it all, to block it all away, just for a moment. Soon, you were back to your habits, and the six years that you’d spent on the recovery were down the drain as you went back to those same white pills.
They were relatively easy to get, actually, especially when you had been given a bottle of them recently after an injury. Each time you opened your phone and you were bombarded with hate, you resorted back to those same pills to numb the pain in your heart and soul, a crushing pain which returned in full force each time the effects of your pills wore off. 
You needed more, however, to numb the pain. It was getting harder to appear normal to your teammates, and you knew that they’d find out that something was wrong eventually. Yet, still, you couldn’t help it. 
Everything seemed useless to you. Your career was failing, your beloved family was across an entire ocean, and you’d given up something you’d spent years working towards– sobriety. Nothing mattered but numbing the pain that these failures caused you, so much so that you began to give up anything else in favor of those pills. 
Your teammates knew that something was the matter with you. It was something further than just simply playing badly, although they couldn’t quite figure out what it was. The signs were obvious, despite your ability to hide what was going on relatively well. 
You showed up late to training, took your dressing downs for your tardiness and performance with tired eyes and slumped shoulders. You were skinnier, something which was obvious when anyone caught a glimpse of you changing in the locker room before or after training or matches. You were pale, and abnormally short-tempered.
Alessia, especially, was beginning to realize what was going on. She recognized the signs from playing college with you, as did Lotte. The way your eyes darkened and reddened, your sudden exhaustion and disinterest in the sport and people that you’d once loved with every ounce of your body. You no longer went out with your teammates, nor did you joke around as you once had. Still, neither girl were completely sure that that was what was wrong, and they didn’t want to immediately assume the worst, not wanting to excuse the six years of sobriety that you’d managed to get under your belt. 
Even so, they couldn’t ignore the fact that each attempt of your teammates to talk to you was met with attitude and shouting. On the rare occasion, you’d leave your teammates in the dust, slamming a door behind yourself in order to punctuate the fact that you did not want to talk about what was going on with you. 
Your teammates were becoming desperate, beginning to corner you in places other than the pitch or the dressing room. Just four nights ago, Leah and Lia had shown up outside your house, knocking on your door and calling for you to open up. You’d managed to convince the two older girls that you weren’t home, as the lights were off and everything was locked up. 
The day after, Katie, Beth, and Viv had asked you to come out to lunch with them after training had finished up early. You’d brushed off their offer by saying that you had errands and house chores to complete. Something in their eyes told you that they didn’t believe your meager excuses, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to actually care. 
-----
"You don't believe in curfew, so you're staying out past 12
You know you really done it this time, you're too into yourself,"
-----
Kim had called your phone just the night prior, although her calls had gone unanswered by you. You’d declined each one with a scoff and a shake of your head. Finally, you’d set your phone to the side and had gone to shut it off for the night. However, you got a text from your friends’ group chat about going out that night, something which your troubled mind couldn’t deny. 
You appreciate your teammates, and love them like family. However, you couldn’t help but become quickly irritated by their attempts to get you to talk to them. 
Nothing was going on. You were fine, there was nothing to worry about. If you admitted that there was an issue, then you were afraid that what little control you felt you had on your life would slip from your quaking fingers. 
Before you left, you took a pill from your bottle, which was beginning to grow close to empty. You didn’t care at the moment, however, happy to ignore everything in favor of going out and pretending like you were someone that you weren’t. Worry free, happy. 
It was four in the morning by the time you’d stumbled back into your apartment. You were high, mostly, buzzing and numb and floaty and free.
Everything came crashing down as soon as you managed to open the door to your apartment. 
-----
"You've got pictures of your parents, they don't occupy your shelf
You don't know what you're doing, but you're puttin' them through hell,"
-----
It had taken a concerned phone call from your parents to Alessia just an hour before you left that had confirmed her worst fears. You’d shunned your parents, and had been ignoring their calls. 
You’d taken their pictures off of your walls, because when you felt like you were disappointing them and you couldn’t bear to look at them, even if they were just framed pictures. 
Your parents, after waiting a week, had called Alessia. They held the same fears that Alessia had had, afraid that you’d fallen back into your old patterns. Your parents had exchanged their notes with Alessia, and Alessia realized that she needed to step in, and fast. 
She’d called Kim, who in turn had called you. When she hadn’t gotten an answer, she and Leah, as well as Alessia and Lotte, had gone to your house together to see if you were there. 
You weren’t, and you continued to ignore their frantic calls. Alessia had half the mind to call the police, but Kim had decided that they would sit and wait in your apartment for you to come back before they jumped to conclusions or did anything drastic such as that. 
-----
"That's the card you wanna throw, you really, ought to know
There are things in life that you can change, some you can control
Like an addiction to nicotine or an addiction to coke
Some of which are in your realm, the others have you in a choke,"
-----
And so they waited. 
And waited. 
And waited some more.
Until, finally, they’d heard the click of your key scraping against your door. Alessia swore she could hear her heart pumping harshly in her own chest as they continued to wait.
The four women could hear the way you stumbled outside. You cursed, once and then twice, before you managed to get your key into the hole and properly turn it. 
Alessia would never forget the haunted look on your face as you stepped into your apartment to see them. It, of course, took you a moment to react as your actions and reactions were slowed with whatever you had taken. 
“To what… Do I owe the pleasure?” Your voice was slurred, and it was obvious that you were out of it. It took a moment for you to set down your things, and Kim was quick to help you set your things down before she was leading you over to the couch. The other girls sat around you, all in various states of mind. 
The truth was– there were things which fell under your control, and things that didn’t. Those things had once been clear cut, but now you felt like everything was crumbling beneath you no matter how hard you tried to hold onto them. 
You were sobering up, a glass of water in a shaking hand. As your mind cleared, dazed and arrogant and startled and frightened and so many other emotions which always accompanied the end of your high, you realized that your closely held secret had finally been figured out. 
You wanted to scream and shout, to lock your teammates out again. You wanted to push them away, physically and mentally, and never allow them to see you like this again. You felt naked beneath their gazes, unable to look any of them in the eyes as your head hung down on your chest. Your breaths were staggered, unsettled, conveying your nerves and disappointment in a way that your words could not. 
-----
"Hold (hold) on to me
Flora I (I) haven't felt you in weeks,"
-----
To everyone’s surprise, it was Alessia who spoke first.
“Hey Bug, are you…” Alessia hesitated, unable to figure out a way to phrase her words and soften them as not to startle you any further. Instead, she moved from her space on the floor and into the space next to you. You were cold, and so you allowed her to push her arm around you. “Are you using… again?”
Maybe it was Alessia’s words, or perhaps it was the feel of a soft touch against your skin. No matter, you seemed to shatter before their very eyes. Your shoulders seemed to crumple as you leaned further into Alessia and let out another sob, a tear sliding from the very corner of your left eye before slipping down your pale cheek and off your chin.
Then, the dam broke and you let out another sob, and another. Each one caused your shoulders to shake and your chest to shudder, your breaths uneven and shaky. You weren’t quite sure what to do, or what was going on, but Alessia’s hands around your shoulders pulled you further into her, comforting you with words uttered softly into your hair.
“It’ll be okay, Bug. We’ve got you, we’ve all got you. You’re okay.” Alessia murmured, like a mantra. Someone was moving behind you, and you weren’t sure who it was but they managed to wrap their arms around your other side as you were cushioned between their bodies. 
You felt safer than you had in months, and with that came the feeling that you could finally, finally let go and just feel and fall and trust that someone would catch you. 
And so you did. 
-----
"Lost all motivation when old Danny moved away
You thought that you can never live up to standards that he made,"
-----
They let you cry, comforting you with their words and touches which allowed you to know that they were there.
“Please, please don’t let go.” You’d nearly begged, and Alessia had tugged you in harder, allowing you to bury your face into her chest and sob. She held on tightly, as if you’d disappear if she let go– perhaps you would, with how pale and sickly you appeared in her arms. She tried to forget that, just for the moment, as she tried to comfort you.
You didn’t know it, but Alessia had been in pain just as you had. She’d noticed, but had been too afraid to voice her worries in case she’d been wrong. She knew that that was foolish, now, and she was cursing herself over and over again in her head for allowing you to get this bad again. 
She felt like, through her silence, she’d purchased a front row seat to your demise. Her grip tightened on your body impossibly further, so much so that she almost worried that she may be hurting you, but you simply clung to the other girl like she was your lifeline. 
Finally, when you’d cried more tears than you had thought that you could give, you sat back against the cushions of your couch. The material felt scratchy against your skin and you shivered, which Leah seemed to mistake for you being cold as she got up and grabbed a blanket from the chair she sat on. She came over, draping it across your shoulders and patting you softly before sitting back down again. 
Lotte was on your other side, one of her arms still around you and stroking at the skin of your shoulder. You knew what came next, and you were still mentally trying to wrap your head around the fact that your teammates knew.
The last time you’d struggled, you hadn’t even been aware that you’d had an addiction until someone had thrown the rock hard facts down in front of your face.
Now, however, you were more than aware of it– you knew you had a problem, but you felt powerless to stop it. You felt like, once you’d moved away from your parents, you’d lost the majority of the support you’d had with them.
Your awareness had somehow just made everything worse, the fact that you knew that you needed to stop but were unable to. You’d felt weak, useless, less than nothing in the face of something you’d long since beaten and returned to. You wanted, oh so badly, to stop using but you couldn’t– the numbness was too appetizing to your abused mind, and your strength and self control waned with every day that passed. 
Sure, your teammates stepped in and made you feel like you were a part of a larger family. Still, it wasn’t the same.
-----
"Well, guess what? You'll never live unless, you learn to be okay
The fact that time is fleeting and legs aren't long enough to chase,"
-----
You explained everything that night to your four attentive teammates. By the end of it, you’d thought that they would shun you.
In fact, you’d half expected Kim to make a call to Jonas and tell him that he should kick you off the team. 
You’d never expected all of them to embrace you together, like one big family group hug. Kim had told you that she would help you, that they would all be there for you. She’d explained that others who had come before you had struggled with mental health and addiction as well, and that they’d gotten the help that they’d needed through the Arsenal team and therapists. 
You’d felt weak, and it was Leah who told you that you weren’t. She’d pressed a kiss against your forehead before explaining that they’d all struggled, and that they’d all needed help. 
“The bravest people are the ones who seek help when they need it,” Leah had said, arms on your shoulders as her blue eyes bore into your own. “I needed help with my ACL, did that make me weak? Kim has needed help with her injuries, and she’s strong. Alessia needed therapy for her mental health, do you think she’s weak? We’ve all struggled. We’ve all needed help, and we’ve all supported each other and accepted that. You need help, and we’ll help you, but you need to accept that and accept that you need help, or all of this will be for nothing.”
“I need help, I think.” You’d whispered in response. Your voice was hoarse, bare before the women before you. You felt weak, but only because you were exhausted– physically, spiritually… emotionally. You wondered, briefly, if you’d ever be okay again. 
The hands around you, the eyes on you, the people who cared so, so, so much about you knew that you would be. 
Even still, your recovery was not without its hard moments. 
However, your teammates were there for you every step of the way.
They were there when you were shaking and crying, with a headache rocking your world and making you feel as though your head would split open from your withdrawals.
They held you tight as you shattered, helping to piece you back together and listening to what you needed.
They were there when you were allowed back into practice, giggling and joking as you once had been. There was color to your skin and light in your eyes once more, and that was enough to set a fire in everyone’s bellies. You were going to be okay.
They were there, even still, when you finally, finally scored your first goal in over a year. 
You slotted the ball into the left corner and watched the net shudder as the ball connected with it. You were spinning in place, eyes wide and mouth open as Alessia’s arms flew up as if she were an airplane. 
Katie McCabe was sprinting at you from across the field, and Leah and Kim were patting you on the back and shouting in excitement as those on the field came to embrace you. Briefly, you were lifted up by a very, very passionate Irish woman before being set down. 
You felt like your heart had been lifted, too, even more so as you scored a hattrick in that game. 
Two years ago, you’d felt like everything was useless, and you’d become your biggest rival. Finally, you’d bested yourself.
Finally, you were free.
488 notes · View notes
sxcret-garden · 4 months
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Hongjoong ღ Ruin Me [M]
ღ Ateez Hongjoong x fem!reader ღ words: ~1k ღ genre: smut (dom!Hongjoong has a corruption kink, inexperienced reader, unprotected sex, lots of teasing, begging, little bit of nipple play) ღ warnings: none
Desc.: You have never had sex with anyone except your boyfriend Hongjoong, who just can't resist teasing your innocent self. (heavily inspired by this post)
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"J-joong..." you whimper your boyfriend's name as you're lying underneath him, eyes squeezed shut and your face hot from all the feelings overwhelming you. He's hovering above you, supporting himself on his hands placed on each side of you, as he lets the tip of his cock glide up and down your folds.
"Hmm?" he hums teasingly. "What does my baby want?"
"M-more..." you whine, and when you feel him grabbing your chin with one of his hands, you open your eyes.
"Look at me, baby," he coos. "Wanna see everything." And then he leans in, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up your sternum, and his hand moves from your chin to one of your boobs, squeezing it tightly and making you whimper once more. He wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking on it before swirling his tongue around it, and then letting it go in order to blow some cool air onto the sensitive skin. It makes your back arch underneath him - just like everything he does to you. He bucks his hips again, his tip grazing your pussy and you let out a broken moan.
"Shit..." you curse, your voice shaky. "P-please Joong... want you inside me..." Embarrassment overcomes you as you're speaking those lewd words, not used to this at all. The truth is, Hongjoong is the first person ever you're having sex with, and since you haven't been dating for long you also haven't had the time to gather much experience yet.
"I only fucked you once and you're already addicted to my cock?" he asks, somewhat mockingly and all you can do is whine some more. "Wanna beg for it, my pretty baby?" Another thrust of his hips without letting himself slip inside you has your head spinning. You're so so horny for him, and if begging for it is what'll give you what you need the most right now, you might as well.
"P-please... please give me your cock... wanna be full of you so bad, please...!" You throw your head back just so you could escape his piercing gaze for a second. The way he's looking at you hungrily, eating up every single word falling from your lips, has you feeling some type of way, but it's also so intense that sometimes you have to tear your own gaze away from him for a moment.
"Fuck, you're so perfect," he hisses through gritted teeth, and as he buries his face in your neck, nipping at the skin there, he adds, "Wanna ruin you so bad..."
"P-please..." is all you can reply. 
"Hold onto me," he mutters and you do as he says, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I'm gonna go slow." He pushes past your entrance, and even just feeling his tip inside you makes you cry out. You buck your hips instinctively, but he reaches between your bodies and pushes you down into the mattress.
"No moving just yet," he says. "I told you I wanna go slow." 
"N-no..." you whine. "Want you now..."
"Greedy, aren't we?" he comments with a smile, and he leans in to playfully bite your cheek. "Trust me, it'll feel better this way." And then he rolls his hips again, reaching just a little further inside you, before pulling almost all the way out again and you whimper at the sensation and at how badly you need him to stop teasing you. Digging your nails into his shoulders, you lure a curse out of him, and he thrusts into you again. A delicious moan escapes you as you arch your back, toes curling and you bite your bottom lip.
"Fuck, Joong... please, fuck me..." you mutter, tears welling up in your eyes from the desperation.
"You're really that horny, hm? Dirty little girl..." he mutters, before pulling all the way out and making you groan. "Want me to take you right there, hm? Want me to fuck you properly."
"R-ruin me..." you mutter, barely audible, but he hears it, because the second those words leave your lips, something snaps deep inside your boyfriend.
"With pleasure..." he whispers an answer, and next thing you know he pushes into you, all the way. You moan at the feeling of being filled up so perfectly, and when he asks if you're ready, you only manage to nod vigorously. He rolls his hips into yours, powerfully and with skill, and you can already feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. Clinging to him as you drag your nails down his back, leaving scratch marks on him for sure, you can only moan his name over and over again.
"Joong... fuck... J-joong, please... p-plea-" You cry out as your high comes crashing down on you and you cum violently around his length. He helps you ride out your high, and as you collapse below him, he pulls out, sitting up so he's kneeling above you now, and he wraps his fingers around his hard cock, coated in your juices.
"Fuck, I didn't think you'd cum that fast... you're driving me crazy..." he growls, hand moving along his length with quick strokes as he watches you, all fucked out and still trying to catch your breath underneath him. His hips snap into his hand, and after only a few strong thrusts, he cums with a hissed curse, his load spurting all over your stomach. Getting on all fours, hovering above you, he breathes heavily, before eventually he leans in to brush his lips against your forehead.
"You're so fucking hot," he mutters. "You did amazing. Let me help clean you up..."
505 notes · View notes
anundyingfidelity · 2 months
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BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS — Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy
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Summary: A normal night where Butcher and his new pal, Soldier Boy, fuck just their stress out with a new toy, you.
Pairing: Billy Butcher x female reader x Soldier Boy
Word count: 1.5k.
Warnings: porn without plot, dom!butcher, dom!ben, one thought of dub-con but not really, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, unsafe sex (creampie and switching holes basically don't do it, this is just porn), squirting, dirty talk, blowjobs, facial, degradation (usage of whore, slut, etc.), cumplay, some dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, blood, mentions of violence, Ben and Butcher being kinda jerks, normal misogyny coming from SB, some ego competition, hints to aftercare.
Notes: You already know english is not my main language, not betad and barely revised, lol sorry for the mistakes in here. The amount of horniness I have for these two I swear is not fucking normal. Normally I'd apologize for writing this, but I'm ovulating.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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A pair of rough hands held your legs open. Your empty pussy was throbing as Butcher knelt between your thighs rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt.
You gasped, the man behind you spreading you further for his new team mate to get better access while he fucked your ass senseless. His cock reaching all the right spots. You moaned loudly, almost screaming when Butcher finally pushed inside you. Soldier Boy never seemed to cease his insane thrusts from behind.
"Luv, you're so fucking tight," Butcher grinned, your walls engulfing him perfectly.
They both soon set up a rhythm, one pushing in while the other almost slide out of your hole. Each stroke of their massive cocks inside you exploded something you never felt before. It was a new kind of spark eliciting from the deepest places, and you wanted to come undone there, over and over, forever, between their strong bodies.
"Oh, fuck! Yes right there, god!" you growled, screamed, and cried out incoherences as the two men continued fucking you to bliss.
A layer of sweat covered your skin and you rolled your eyes back, the familiar knot on your belly building up yet again. You didn't have an idea of how much time had passed since you arrived back to the dirty motel. All three of you arrived covered in blood, dirt and the weight of murder, and you still let them take you and you welcomed them the same way. You let them have fun with you however they pleased.
The last thing you remembered from that night was coming back from a mission. Your aching body begging for a shower and good sleep, but Butcher and the new supe found other ways to take their own stress out. You doubted at first. Of course you didn't know it could feel this good. They left bite marks all over your neck, nipped your tits, spanked your thighs open for their mouths to devour you while the other fucked your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.
They continued bruising and marking your skin. Like a canvas, they left their prints, covering your flesh with different colors all over and used your mouth and pussy as they fucking wanted, granting access to the other, spreading your legs, manhandling you all over the disgusting, shitty room. Then Soldier Boy had the idea of using your ass, just for him, and at first, you were fucking scared. It was all too much. But once he had you ready and stretched enough with his fingers, you quickly fell for his rough touch and his dick, which was as huge as his ego. He was fucking addictive. Both were, in fact, fucking you amazingly hard.
One of Ben's hand wrapped around your neck, climax reaching its peak as Butcher rubbed your clit with his thumb. Your walls clenched around both of them and the vulgar sound of your pussy filled the place along with their skin hitting yours.
"Little slut, gonna cum for us?" Ben said, voice full of lust, pressing your back against his bare chest. You clenched again, his dark chuckle enhanced heaven down your cunt.
Wetness increased between your legs, and you moaned. Louder than ever. The whole place might already know what was happening in the room, but neither Ben or Billy made you shut up. In fact, they wanted you to scream your lungs out.
"Oh, she's definitely gonna cum," Butcher followed, a smirk on his lips. "C'mon sweetheart, don't be shy. Give us one more."
"I-I feel like- fuck!" with a loud cry you squirted all over them, their dicks sliding out of your holes. Shit, that was the harderst you came for the night.
Immediately you tried to close your shaky legs, but Butcher's hands held you in place, pussy clenching around nothing as your fluids coated their hard lenghts and thighs.
"Fucking hell. I'm gonna break you, sugar," Ben hissed, taking your legs and fixing your position on top of him, sliding you down his dick, but this time he claimed your pussy, pistoning in and out of you without any mercy. Even if your body still trembled and you were so fucking overstimulated. You moaned.
Butcher tskd as he watched you, tears streaming down your face and lost in pleassure. "That was mine, pal."
"Yeah, I don't give a fuck- Jesus, she's fucking tight!" Ben hoarsed.
He didn't care about Butcher, he just wanted to fuck you until you passed out and his name was the only thing on your mind.
You whimpered softly. "Please, please," you were getting there again, under the brunette man's dark eyes as the soldier fucked you insane.
But before you reached that sweet peak again, Ben pulled out of you. His strenght forced you to bend over the matress on your hands and knees, Butcher positioned himself right in front of your face. It was so fast and they moved quickly, like a dance already choreographed between them to take advantage of all you got to give.
"Open wide, baby" Butcher ordered. You complied happily, letting his cock touch the back of your throat smoothly.
Ben's rough hands gripped your hips, down your ass, giving a spank on one of your cheeks, making you jump slightly. He grabbed your ass cheeks spreading them to expose your hole, the tip of his cock teased your ass until he slid in a swift motion. You whimpered with your mouth stuffed. He filled you up perfectly and you fucking loved it.
"Such a good cumslut, taking my cock so fucking well," Ben praised, voice husky. He roughly gripped your hair, forcing yourself down more around Butcher's shaft. You gagged, he smirked. "Might just keep you around as my little, personal fuckdoll."
"Fuck- easy there, mate," Butcher warned, as you worked your tongue and lips on his cock as much as you could. "We have another deal, remember?"
Ben smirked cockily at him as you clenched around his cock. You let out a moan muffled by Butcher fucking your mouth. Both their thrusts harder than ever. "Still, I don't give a shit."
Ben's gaze admired you, hands on your hips, as he watched himself shoving into your hole. "You're gonna fucking cum again, you dirty little bitch," he ordered.
"Mmm..." You nodded as best as you could with the twitching cock on your mouth.
Butcher suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva leaked down your lips to the tip of his cock. He kept your head in place as much as he could and jerked himself off with his other hand. He came with a hard groan all over your pretty face. His white seed painted your cheeks, lips and your tongue sticking out as you shut your eyes.
"Bloody hell, don't you look ravishing," Butcher whispered darkly. His thumb collected his cum, now mixed with your tears and a small stain of dry blood on your face. He dragged it to your lips so you could taste it. Your plump lips closed around his finger with a moan.
"Insatiable slut, just how I like them," Ben hissed, pulling out of your asshole, making you whimper. "Now, I'm gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy."
He rubbed the tip of his dick on your slit and entered slowly. You felt every inch stretching you out and he slammed into you brutally, he was so fucking close. You could feel it. It surprised you how much they actually endured, their stamina was endless and you lost count of how many times they made you cum already. And yet, you felt that precious sensation anew, soft walls clenching repeatedly around him.
"C'mon whore," Ben gripped on your hair, pulling your back against his muscular chest, taking both your wrists with his other hand. "Cum around my cock."
Your cunt pulsed, he grunted. And you came, again, with shaky legs, shaky breath and the sight of a naked Butcher, who already had taken a seat on the couch in front of the bed. Your orgasm triggered Ben's, and he filled you up completely. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, the grip on your hair long gone now. He continued fucking his cum inside you, balls deep, until he started to soften inside you. His thrusts slowed down little by little.
Ben finally pulled out, letting go of your wrists and you collapsed on your hands and knees on the mattress. He spread out your pussy with his fingers and admired his white cum dripping out of you.
"Well, that was a fucking ride," he smiled. His middle finger wiped his seed and forced it back inside your pulsing cunt. "Fuck, where do you find these kind of women?"
Butcher shrugged. "I have my contacts."
"I'm still here, y'know," you breathed out, rolling on your back.
Ben hovered over your tired figure. Messy hair, cheeks stained with Butcher's cum, teary eyes, and some dry blood spots decorated your face. They did break you and put you back into pieces. He was damn proud of that. He leaned down and sucked into the skin of your neck. You moaned, your fingers tangled on his scalp as his lips carressed your neck, his beard burning on your soft skin.
"Ben, I'm tired," you said, and he stopped his kisses. He shared a suspicious look with Butcher and then locked his lustful green eyes with yours.
The supe winked at you. "Later, doll."
You rolled your eyes and heard Butcher standing up.
"Gonna prepare you a bath, luv," he said as he disappeared inside the bathroom. "Have to take good care of ya."
383 notes · View notes
cookiescribble · 5 months
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Show Me How To Be Whole Again
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A/N: hi everyone! This is the fic I've been working on for eight months 😮‍💨. I hope it came out as well as I hoped it would 😅 - mod angel
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: When Spencer is abducted, you rush to the team to make sure you're there when they find him. After you get home, Spencer's behavior starts to get more and more concerning, and you're desperate for answers. (based on 2x15 and the aftermath of that episode)
Word Count: 7.1k
CW: Mentions of abduction, violence, drug addiction, withdrawal, arguing. some angst in the middle but i am incapable of writing something without a happy ending.
~~~~~
The call came early in the morning. They said they called you as soon as they could. 
If you were thinking rationally, or if you could stand being alone for 5 minutes after hearing the news, maybe you would’ve stayed home. But you couldn’t stay put knowing Spencer was in trouble. 
You quickly threw a few days’ worth of clothes in a carry-on bag and took the first flight out of the nearest airport. You were trying so hard to keep yourself together and not break down crying on a crowded airplane, but the thoughts just kept rushing in your head. You were so worried about him. 
When you landed, you called the team and told them you were going to the police station and you were going to stay there until they found him. You wouldn’t let anyone argue with you. You wouldn’t be able to calm down until they found him anyway, so being anywhere else didn’t make sense. 
You didn’t really think of what you’d do when you got there. You’d just been on autopilot since you got the call. You were hoping someone would meet you there. 
When you frantically burst through the doors of the police station, JJ was standing there waiting for you. You dropped your bag and hugged her tight. 
“It was my fault,” she choked out, sobbing. “We were together and… we split up… I shouldn’t have split up…”
You shook your head vigorously. “No, no, you’re not the one who abducted him. It’s not your fault.” You were also sobbing now. You tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself, but all you could think about was what could possibly be happening to Spencer right now. 
You calmed down enough to ask, “Where is everybody else?”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath herself. “We set up at the unsub’s house. He took Spence to a secondary location, and Garcia set up there to get to his computers.” She looked down. “I really should be getting back there.”
You nodded while she talked. “I’m coming with you,” you announced. 
She looked at you, concerned. “We can’t risk you-“
You cut her off. “I am coming with you. I’m staying with you until we find him,” you stated forcefully. 
She didn’t argue further. She could see the desperation in your eyes, you’re sure. Even someone who didn’t analyze behavior for a living could see that. “Alright. Let’s go.”
You arrived at the house. You couldn’t tell how long the car ride took; every second felt like an hour. 
When everybody saw you, they took turns giving you a hug. You could tell they were concerned that you were here, but they could see how devastated you were. You think they understood. 
You hung around while they all did their jobs and tried to find Spencer. You sat next to Penelope and watched as she tried to do whatever she could to help find him. 
Time passed. The team was coming in and out of the room as they needed to. Derek was probably in here the most, giving his moral support to Penelope. 
Suddenly, the monitors in front of you lit up. 
“What‘s happening?” Derek asked. 
“I… don’t know,” Penelope answered. 
Your heart dropped as an image popped up on the screen. 
It was Spencer. He was sitting in a chair, his hands tied together. He was wearing the clothes you watched him pack on the morning you last saw him. 
He looked so scared. 
“Guys! Get in here!” you heard Derek yell. 
You couldn’t look away from the screen. 
The rest of the team rushed in, faces dropping as they saw what was happening. 
Someone was talking in the background of the stream. You couldn’t hear them. Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. Spencer was replying to whatever they were saying. Through your loud heartbeat, you could hear his trembling voice. Your eyes started to water. 
After a few moments, you heard someone near you say something and suddenly you were being pulled away from the screen and into another room. 
When you realized what was happening, you looked up to see Hotch holding your shoulders, pushing you away from the horrific scene unfolding on the monitors. 
You started sobbing. “I have to see him,” you tried to say, but your voice was cracking. 
“No. You saw that he’s alive. That’s all you need to see.” he said firmly. He was protecting you from seeing something that would truly break you. 
You couldn’t argue. What you saw shook you to your very core; you couldn’t go back in there. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded. “You’re going to find him and bring him back safe.” It wasn’t a question. You knew they’d find him. They had to. 
You took a step back, telling Hotch he could go back to the team in the other room, and that you were okay out here.
You sat at a table, laying your head down and covering it with your arms. You had started crying, and you couldn’t stop. How could they do this to him? He’s never done anything to hurt anybody. All he does is help people. How could someone look at him and feel anything other than warmth, comfort, and love?
You heard footsteps come into the room. The girls came in and sat around you. You picked your head up to look at them, your eyes already swollen from crying so much. 
“What happened?” you asked frantically. Your heart was racing again. 
“He’s okay,” Emily said quickly. “He’s alive. The unsub… made him choose a victim to keep alive, but there’s going to be more victims… and then the camera cut off.” She took a deep breath. “It looked like making that decision let him live.”
You buried your face in your hands. This was so cruel. you knew he dealt with bad people every day, but… this was so heartbreaking. How could someone feel so little remorse for other human beings that they force an innocent person to decide someone’s fate?
You took deep breaths to try not to cry again. “I can tell he’s in so much pain right now… He’s going to blame himself for all those people’s deaths. The guilt is going to eat him up inside. He’ll feel horrible even if he does make it out of this.”
Everyone took turns patting your back to reassure you. “He is going to make it out of this. He’ll be home soon.”
You nodded, forcing yourself to believe it. You had to believe it. If you didn’t believe it… you would break down more than you ever have before. 
You stayed in that room for what felt like an eternity. The team took turns keeping you company when they weren’t busy. They gave you vague updates to let you know that Spencer was still alive. They didn’t tell you details of what they saw. You didn’t ask. Seeing the somber looks on their faces told you all you needed to know.
Eventually, everyone came rushing out of the room, putting on their coats and practically running out the door. Penelope came to sit with you, her eyes wide and full of hope. “They found where he is. They’re going to him now.” She hugged you tightly. “He’s going to be okay.”
Tears leaked out of your eyes again. This time they were happy tears. The immense rush of relief you felt was enough to render you speechless for a while, until you finally choked out, “They’re going to call us when he’s safe?” She nodded eagerly and you let out a huge sigh of relief. 
The wait felt like forever. You were still nervous. What if they don’t get to him in time? What if they’re just barely too late?
Finally, finally Penelope’s phone rang. She answered quickly, nodding at what she was hearing. Eventually she hung up and looked at you, smiling. “He’s with them now. The unsub is dead. They’re rushing an ambulance but his injuries seem minor considering… what’s been happening.”
You closed your eyes and took another big sigh of relief. “I’m going to meet the ambulance there,” you declared.
Penelope looked at you quizzically. “I don’t know if-“
“You said the unsub is dead,” you cut her off. “There’s no more danger. I’m going to him.” You saw keys to one of the FBI vehicles that was left over since they had multiple people to a van. You picked them up and tossed them to Penelope. “You know their coordinates. You drive.”
She caught the keys and nodded at you, unable to argue with your logic. You both rushed out to the van and sped over to the location. 
You saw the ambulance as you arrived there. You barely waited for Penelope to put the car in park before you were running out the door to where the ambulance had parked. 
You saw Spencer sitting at the edge of the back of the ambulance with a first aid blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was beaten up, but he was still conscious and alert. You were relieved his injuries weren’t worse. 
“Spencer!” you shouted as you ran towards him. He looked your way, his eyes widening as he saw you. 
You threw your arms around his shoulders when you reached him. His shock quickly turned to something softer as he relaxed into your arms, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You nestled your face into his neck for a few moments, unable to stop your sobs of joy. “Oh, sweetie…” you cooed into his ear. 
He moved so his forehead was touching yours. Tears were streaking down his face. “I’m sorry…” he started. 
You shook your head vigorously. “No apologies. You’re okay now.” You kissed him on the forehead gently and threaded your fingers in his hair “Everything’s going to be okay.”
He nodded and tightened his grip on you, kissing you firmly. He kissed you for a long time before finally pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you,” he whispered.
You smiled warmly, whispering back to him. “I love you, too.”
You stayed like that for a few moments before everyone started pushing Spencer to get in the ambulance so he could go to the hospital. You rode with him, of course. You held his hand the whole way there. 
He wasn’t in the hospital for too long. They were able to treat his wounds relatively easily. The team waited in the waiting room while you followed him into the examination room. 
When you came back to the waiting room, hand in hand, everyone rushed to greet you before you all headed to the jet. 
You sat in the corner of the couch to the side of the other seats, motioning for Spencer to lay his head in your lap. He followed eagerly, curling up on his side and nestling his head in your lap. 
You ran your fingers through his curls as he began to fall asleep. He must’ve been exhausted. You couldn’t imagine him sleeping during any of that. 
You stayed like that the whole ride home, him asleep and you petting his hair softly. 
You gently woke him up when you landed. “C’mon, baby. We’re going home.”
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. You kissed his cheek before standing up, taking his hand as you went to the parking lot. He obviously wasn’t in any condition to drive, so he handed you the keys to his car and let you drive home. You insisted on stopping and getting some food on the way back. He said he didn’t feel hungry, but once he started eating, it seemed like he’d never stop. He must’ve been starving.
When you walked into your apartment, he grabbed you and hugged you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, relaxing into him. 
“I missed you so much.” He was crying again, sniffling softly. “I thought about you every waking moment. I knew I had to make it through because you were waiting for me.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. 
“I missed you too,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes with a soft expression. “I knew you were going to make it back.” You hugged him tight again. “I didn’t see everything. The team… made sure I didn’t see anything that was going to hurt me.”
He nodded, leaning down to stroke your cheek gently with his thumb. “I’m glad you didn’t have to see me like that.” He touched his forehead to yours. “What matters now is that I’m here with you.” He kissed you slowly, pushing your hair out of your face. 
You kissed for a long time, slowly making your way to your bedroom. You smiled up at him after a while. “As much as I would love to continue this…” You gestured to the bed. “You need to sleep.”
As if to prove your point, he let out a quiet yawn. You smiled as he sat down at the edge of the bed. You grabbed his pajamas from the drawer and helped him get changed and settled into bed. 
He lay his head on your chest and you stroked his hair gently, just like you did the whole way home. “Go to sleep, baby,” you whispered as his eyes closed. After a moment you heard his breathing slow as he fell asleep. 
“Goodnight,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head before relaxing to fall asleep yourself.   
After that night, things got… bad. 
Spencer wasn’t acting like himself anymore. He was… distant. Cold. He had never acted this way towards you before. Or anyone, for that matter. 
You had never had a problem with intimacy before, but suddenly he refused to touch you. Any time you would reach for his hand, or try to put your arm around him, he’d just shrug you off of him and move away from you. It always ended in you mumbling an apology and putting some space between you. 
He never explained why he didn’t want you to touch him. In fact, he didn’t talk a whole lot anymore. You often sat in silence, completely apart from each other. You always used to be able to count on him to fill these silences, but now he just stayed quiet. 
When he did talk, he was a lot more cold to you than he used to be. You had never fought before, but now it felt like any time he talked it was to argue with you about something. It felt like he was always angry lately. 
He didn’t even like to sleep in the same bed as you anymore. Most nights, if not every night, he slept on the couch. You started begging him, telling him that you would never cross over your side of the bed, but he shrugged you off saying he just needed to be alone.
All of this was really taking a toll on you. You tried not to show it, because you knew he was going through a hard time, so you only let your feelings out in places you could be alone. Which meant you spent a lot of time crying in the bathroom.
This went on for months. You thought that, surely, he had to tell you what was going on eventually. He had never hidden anything from you before, so you didn’t really know what to do, or how to handle this. You didn’t want to push him into talking about things he didn’t want to talk about, but something was very clearly wrong. 
After a particularly bad argument one night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go to someone about this. For Spencer’s sake.
The next morning, you set an extra early alarm, quietly getting dressed and tiptoeing past Spencer, who was asleep on the couch, and silently leaving your apartment. 
As you got in your car and started driving, you started arguing with yourself in your head. Part of your brain was trying to say that this wasn’t going to help, and that this was just like being a little kid and tattling to a teacher. But the emotional part of your brain was saying that just telling anyone would be able to help Spencer. And that little shred of hope was all it took to convince you to do this.
You shoved open the doors to the BAU, hoping that Spencer’s stories about his boss barely leaving his office were true. When you looked around, you saw an office with a light on, making you breathe a sigh of relief.
You bound up the stairs, knocking on the office door, a little more forcefully than you had intended. Hopefully it would help get your emotions across.
“Come in,” a familiar voice ordered. 
You took a deep breath before opening the door, seeing Hotch sitting at his desk with a bunch of paperwork in front of him. You wondered just how much paperwork this job required, and if he was always here hours before everyone else.
He looked surprised to see you. He would probably be surprised to see anyone at this early hour, but considering you don’t even work for him, he probably wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of you coming here. “Is there something I can help you with?” He asked. 
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You didn’t really think this far; you just figured that surely someone who works so closely with Spencer had to know something, especially since he was a profiler. 
You thought about everything that had happened in the last few months, trying to find the right words to properly articulate your concerns. But all the thoughts about Spencer pushing you away and refusing your affection, mixed with remembering what your relationship was like before that fateful night of his abduction, overwhelmed your mind so much that you just couldn’t stop your emotions flowing out. Tears welled in your eyes before starting to streak down your face. Here you were, in Hotch’s office, completely unannounced and uninvited, and you were just standing there crying.
After a few moments of crying, and of Hotch looking very concerned at this scene playing out before him, you decided it didn’t matter that you couldn’t form the perfect words. You just needed to say something. 
Through choked sobs, you finally managed to blurt out, “What’s wrong with Spencer?”
Hotch looked at you, his expression as unreadable as always. “What do you mean?”
You took a deep breath, too emotional to think about how you shouldn’t be saying all of this to your boyfriend’s boss. The words just started coming out in a rush. “Something’s wrong. We had never had a single argument before, and now the only time he ever talks to me is to pick a fight. He’s never present, he barely speaks, which I’m sure I don’t have to tell you is very strange behavior for Spencer. He never smiles anymore, he won’t let me touch him anymore, he won’t sleep in our bed anymore, he only sleeps on the couch…” 
You covered your eyes with your hands, trying to stop the tears from coming out. Finally, after some shaky breaths, you finished by saying, “I just wanted to know if there’s anything you could tell me about this. If you know why he’s acting this way. If there’s something he’s not telling me.”
Hotch hesitated before gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. “Do you want to take a seat?”
You looked at the chair, and you noticed you were shaking. You nodded, and sat down in the chair, trying to calm down. But you couldn’t help being extremely restless, your leg bouncing rapidly while you sat.
Hotch leaned forward, moving some paperwork out of the way and placing his hands on his desk. His expression was slightly softened. “Working in this field, you go through a lot of traumatic things. Reid’s abduction was one of the worst things an agent can go through.” His voice was low and steady, which was a welcome contrast to how frantic your own words had come out. “Anyone would struggle after that.”
You sighed. “I know, but-”
He raised his hand to cut you off. “That being said, we’ve all been able to tell that Reid has been a little off.” He saw you raise your eyebrow and added, “Okay, a lot off.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “We have some… theories, but we can’t know for sure what’s happening with him unless he tells us. And since he’s already struggling, we didn’t want to make it worse, especially since he’s technically just a subordinate or coworker. But if he’s not telling you either…” He looked at you sympathetically. “I’ll try to talk to him.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. “... Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I came here out of the blue.” You stood up, taking a step forward as if you were going to hug him, but for once your rational thoughts took over and you stayed where you were.
He stood up after you. “You’re welcome. It couldn’t have been easy to come here and talk about this.” He reached out to shake your hand, and when you shook his hand back he put his other hand over yours and spoke softly to you. “I’m going to try to get through to him. I promise.”
His gentle hands and soft-spoken words were enough to reassure you, at least for now. You nodded, thanking him again before leaving his office. You were able to leave with a lot more composure than you came here with.
It was getting late by the time you left Hotch’s office, and there were a lot more people here now. As you came down the stairs, you looked up to see Spencer staring at you. He wasn’t angry, thankfully, but he looked… kind of dumbfounded. Which made sense. You had no reason to be here at all, let alone a reason to be talking to his boss.
As you walked towards him to get to the door to leave, he turned to you. “Hey…” he started, his voice soft.
You didn’t know what to say, his soft voice sounding nothing like what you’ve been hearing these past few months. So you just kind of waved to him awkwardly, pointing to your watch to indicate that you had to get to work, and you left the BAU. 
When you got back in your car, you took a few minutes to process everything that had happened. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to convince yourself that everything was okay. You believed Hotch when he said he’d help. It felt like Spencer was in capable hands.
Later that day, you had been in the bathroom when Spencer came home, and you didn’t hear the door open and close. When you came out, you saw him standing awkwardly in the front of your apartment. It made you jump a little bit. “Hi… I didn’t know you were home,” you muttered awkwardly.
He stood there looking at you, his eyes moving a little as if he was thinking of what to say. After a few moments, instead of saying anything, he walked over to you and hugged you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.
You just froze for a moment, not sure how to react. But he kept his tight hold on you, as if you were the only thing keeping him up right now, and you finally started to hug him back just as tightly. You both just stood like that for a few minutes, holding each other.
Finally, he spoke up. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, and he sounded so fragile. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He was starting to cry now, making soft sobbing sounds into your shoulder.
Hearing him cry broke something in you, and shortly you were also in tears. “Oh, Spence…” You squeezed him a little tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay…”
He sniffled and shook his head, pulling back a little so he could look you in the eyes. “My behavior has been abhorrent lately. I’ve been struggling, and I’ve been bottling everything up. I didn’t realize just how much this was hurting you.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep up with his thoughts. “I guess I figured, if I didn’t tell you about my problems, then they couldn’t affect you. But I was wrong. It just made it worse.”
You looked at him sadly, one of your hands moving to gently stroke his hair. “You can always come to me with anything. I’ll always try to help you. You know that.”
Some more tears started falling down his cheeks, and you started to wipe them away with your thumb. “I guess I felt like… I didn’t deserve the help.” He took a few shaky breaths as he tried to calm down. “Like I didn’t deserve you being so nice to me.”
“Spencer…” you started, trying to make your voice sound as soothing as possible. “What’s wrong? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I… I don’t know if I can talk about it yet. But I promise I’ll tell you soon.” He looked at you determinedly. “Until then, I promise I’m going to try to be better to you.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed your face and captured your lips in a soft kiss, making your heart flutter.
After years of dating, you didn’t think you’d feel that flustered, shy feeling of butterflies in your stomach again. But, after these past few months of having no physical contact, this kiss almost felt like it was your first kiss all over again.
You couldn’t help but hold the back of his head to try to bring his face even closer to yours. You were craving his touch, and you needed his affection. On the off chance that this was a one-time thing, and that he would start to distance himself again after this, you figured you had to make it last.
He showed no signs of letting up, though, moving you both so you were laying on the couch, with him hovering over you. His lips never left yours the whole time, and his hands were moving around your face as if he was trying to remember what it felt like. 
He broke the kiss to look at you, before closing his eyes. His hands trailed from your face down to your neck, moving slightly under your shirt to your shoulders. He wasn’t just touching you, he was feeling you. As if feeling your skin would jog his memory of you. His breathing was soft and even as his hands moved down to your hips, his fingers gentle and slow on your waist as he started to lift your shirt up. 
Your breath hitched when you felt cold air suddenly hit your stomach. “Spence…” you spoke quietly, a soft blush on your face. 
He looked at you, his voice quick and reassuring. “I don’t want to do anything like… that. It would be a little too much for me right now.” He quickly flashed you that awkward little smile he had sometimes. “I just want to see you, to feel you.” His voice went a little quieter when he added, “I missed you.”
You looked at him sadly, reaching up to touch his face. “I missed you, too.” You leaned in to kiss him again. “I missed you so much.”
The soft, slow kissing resumed, and Spencer very carefully pulled your shirt over your head, his hands gently gliding over the newly exposed skin. You let out a dreamy sigh. You hadn’t realized just how touch starved you had been over these past few months. This is exactly what you had been needing. 
You just stayed on the couch like that for a while, his lips and hands on you, the gentlest of touches. After a little while longer, you started to unbutton his shirt, because you wanted to do the same to him.
He completely froze, sucking in a breath. You immediately pulled your hands away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, worried that you just ruined any progress that had been made tonight. 
He shook his head, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “It’s okay, I just… I don’t want you to see me with my shirt off.” He looked at you with pleading eyes, as if he was begging you not to ask about it. 
You hesitated, but instead of asking about it you tried to be a little more lighthearted. “I’ve seen you without a shirt plenty of times, Spencer.” 
He gave you a slight smile before the worried look came back to his face. “I just…” he started, “I can’t right now. Please understand.”
You nodded, taking his hand and giving it a slight squeeze. “I understand.” You stroked his hand gently with your thumb. “I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You can trust me.”
He squeezed your hand back, giving you another little smile. “I know you won’t. I do trust you.” He let out a little yawn and started to rub his eyes. 
You looked at the clock, not realizing how late it had gotten. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You leaned over to kiss his forehead. “You should get some sleep.”
You worried he would still insist on sleeping on the couch, but he just nodded, his hand still tightly holding yours as you both stood up and walked to your bedroom. He grabbed his pajamas and headed to the bathroom to change.
You sat on the bed and watched him for a few moments before he closed the door. You started to get dressed yourself, wondering what this problem was about. He had been a little shy around you when you two first started getting intimate, but you thought he had gotten over that. Had these past few months apart made the shyness come back?
Your thoughts were interrupted by Spencer coming back into the room. You stood up so he could get in bed. He looked so tired; you could see just how bad the dark circles under his eyes were.
He crawled under the covers, curling up and closing his eyes. You got in the other side of the bed, gently rubbing his back to soothe him. You didn’t want to push any boundaries, so you pulled away after just a moment.
He turned around, looking at you with those big eyes of his, and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath, as if soothed by your touch. You smiled softly. He looked more peaceful than you had seen him in a long time. It made it easier to close your eyes and relax.
It was silent for a while, and you thought he had fallen asleep. But then, you heard him speak very softly. “I love you.”
You opened your eyes to see him looking back at you. You squeezed his hand gently. “I love you too.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead, making him smile. “Get some sleep. I can tell you need it,” you whispered.
He nodded and closed his eyes again, moving a little closer to you before wrapping his arms around you and nestling his head in your neck. You hesitated for a moment in shock before cradling him in your arms. You kissed the top of his head. “Goodnight, baby,” you whispered to him. Soon, you could hear his breathing soften, and you just listened to the quiet sounds of him sleeping for a few more moments before falling asleep yourself.
Things didn’t magically get better after that, but they did improve. 
Spencer went back to sleeping in your bed, though he seemed to have a hard time sleeping nowadays. He was always tossing and turning, and you usually woke up in the middle of the night to either try to soothe him to sleep or to keep him company when he couldn’t sleep. 
There was a lot more talking, and a lot less fighting. You could have more comfortable conversations, and he would politely tell you when he didn’t feel like talking. It was a lot better than him yelling at you to leave him alone. 
There was still some arguing, but usually only when you were trying to get him to eat. He was always saying he wasn’t hungry, and you had to try to push to get him to eat, saying he needed some kind of nutrition. Sometimes he would snap at you, saying he would eat if he was hungry and that he didn’t push you when you didn’t want to eat. He’d always apologize, though, and try his best to explain that he was either feeling nauseous or he just didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. It seemed to get a little better after a few days.
He didn’t mind a little more physical contact. He wasn’t always up for it, but he didn’t seem to mind it as much. It was always trial and error, almost like trying to pet a skittish cat. You’d start by putting a gentle hand on his, and he’d tense up for a second, and he’d either pull away and explain he didn’t want to be touched, or he’d take your hand and hold it gently. A big improvement. It was just little touches: holding hands, an arm around his shoulder, a hug… it never went past that.
He didn’t talk about what it was that was bothering him at first, but you trusted that he would tell you when he was ready. After about a week, he was finally ready to talk about it.
You both were sitting on the couch, in one of your quiet moments. You were reading a book, like you usually did when Spencer felt like being quiet. The silences were starting to get more comfortable, making it easier to just do quiet activities next to each other.
After a few minutes, Spencer cleared his throat, making you look over at him. You bookmarked the page you were on and turned to him. “What is it?”
He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure how to start this conversation. He closed his eyes for a moment to put his thoughts together, before opening them again to look at you. He spoke very softly.
“When I was…” he started, swallowing and taking a deep breath to compose himself before continuing, “... When I was abducted for those few days back in February, a lot happened. The man who took me had dissociative identity disorder, and dealing with all his personalities was difficult. But there was one of his personalities that was… nicer than the others. More helpful than harmful.” He closed his eyes again, and you knew this was really hard for him to talk about. You placed a gentle hand over his, and he let out a breath, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. He continued on, his voice still soft and sad.
“Unfortunately, one of the ways that he helped me was to… give me something to help numb the pain the others were causing.” He closed his eyes again, and he slowly rolled up his sleeves for you to see his arms.
You stared in shock. His arms were covered in needle marks. You covered your mouth. “Oh, Spencer…” You looked back up at his face, but his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he didn’t want to face this. You squeezed his hand to let him know you were here to support him.
“He would come to me saying Dilaudid helped with the pain, and after a few times, it started to feel… good.” He took another deep breath, his eyes still closed. “After he died, I took the bottles he still had. And when things started getting hard to handle… all the flashbacks and memories of what happened to me, I just needed to numb myself. And it worked, for a while. But eventually, I just… couldn’t stop.”
“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentle. “You could’ve come to me, I could’ve tried to help you-”
“I didn’t want that,” he cut you off. “I tried to convince myself that what I was doing wasn’t wrong. That it was just medicine that was helping me. But, obviously, I knew that wasn’t the truth. And I knew that if I told anyone about it, they would say I needed help. But I didn’t want help. I just wanted to live in this unrealistic world where everything I was doing was fine.” He finally opened his eyes to look at you. “That’s why I was lashing out. I didn’t want anyone to help me, and I also felt like I didn’t deserve anyone being nice to me.”
He looked at you very seriously. “I thought, if I didn’t tell you any of this, it couldn’t hurt you. I know how sensitive you are to other people’s emotions and problems, so I figured if I didn’t tell you, you couldn’t worry about me. Obviously, I was wrong, and that was a naive way of thinking.” He reached out and gently touched your face. “When I saw you at the BAU, I knew it was because you were worried about me, and I saw that you looked like you had been crying. And it just snapped me out of this false reality I had created for myself. And that’s when I came home and apologized, because I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep hurting you.”
You listened to him silently while he talked, letting him get out everything he needed to say before responding. “Why didn’t you tell me that day? Or the few days after that? Why did you wait until now?”
He nodded as if he was waiting for this question. “I read that withdrawal symptoms peak within 12-48 hours, and that it usually takes 5-7 days for the symptoms to resolve. So I wanted to wait out those 7 days just to make sure.”
You gave him a sad look. “But if I knew you were having withdrawal symptoms, I could have helped you. I really wish you would have told me.”
He sighed. “I wanted to do it on my own. To prove to myself that I could do it. That I wasn’t just going to quit halfway through and relapse.”
You nodded sympathetically. “Well, I’m really glad you told me now. We can get through this together.” You gave his hand a little pat. “You know this isn’t the end of it, right? It’s not just over when withdrawal symptoms stop. You still need to work out these issues that made you start this in the first place.”
He nodded. “I know. I want to try to get help now. I… I think I’m ready. I want to look into going to therapy, and maybe some support groups if I need them.” He squeezed your hand again. “I know I can make it through this, because I know you’ll be by my side.”
You smiled softly at him. “I’ll always be by your side.” Your hand trailed up his arms, looking back at the needle marks. “Do they… hurt?” you asked softly.
He shrugged. “Only when they first appear. They don’t hurt right now.”
You nodded, and you gently touched the marks on his arm. You looked at him, and you slowly brought his arm up so you could give every little mark a gentle kiss, to let him know that everything was going to get better soon.
He looked at you with big, loving eyes, and he started tearing up a bit. He pulled you in for a tight hug, sniffling as he buried his face in your neck. “I love you so much,” he said with a shaky voice.
You held him tight, rubbing his back to comfort him. “I love you too, Spence. Everything is going to be okay.” Your voice was calm and soothing. “I’m here now.”
Things started to get much better after that. Spencer was way more comfortable telling you when things were feeling more difficult than usual. Typically, it would be when he came home from a particularly emotional case. You were always there to hold him and to soothe him. There was no more aversion to your touch or need for extended silences. He felt comfortable in your arms, and he knew he could talk to you when something was bothering him.
He started seeing a therapist, and you always went there with him. Usually, you just sat outside the office for his sessions so he could have the one-on-one help he needed. Sometimes, if he was having a particularly rough week, he would bring you in with him for extra support. And you were always there when he needed you.
It took a bit of time, but you learned how to help with whatever he needed you for. If he needed a distraction, you could always come up with some activity to get his mind off of things. You played a lot of board games, and started learning to bake so you could just pull out a new recipe to try and he could focus on getting everything just right. When he just needed someone to listen to him, or a shoulder to cry on, you didn’t mind being that person for him. And sometimes he just wanted to be held, saying that the physical touch grounded him. You were always happy to hold him. 
Over time, things got easier and easier to deal with. Eventually, things seemed to be fully back to normal. You both knew that this was always going to be a struggle that could come back, but you knew how to handle it now, and you were certain that you could get through any struggle that ever tried to get in your way.
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konigsblog · 3 months
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It's tiring to talk like a broken speaker to reiterate that if you don't want to see dark content, just don't interact and walk away. Not everything has to cater to you, you're in charge of your internet experience. Fiction and reality don't always equal one to one. I'm sorry orla that you had to go through all of this song and dance again and again 😔
As for my request, would it be possible to have some more gooner!simon or gooner!graves? 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you!!
literally !! i can't explain it any further, just don't read. there's an issue with the lack of responsibility in the cod fandom, truly. they don't want to admit their fault because they read something they shouldn't have! thank you for your wonderful support, anon <33 it doesn't go unappreciated, my sweetness !! 💗
WARNINGS: “GOONING”/PORN ADDICTION, DEPRAVITY, AUTHORITY PLAY. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
(YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY.)
gooner-simon is pathetic and incapable of healing his addiction with pornographers; he's incapable of controlling his throbbing boner, leading him to become constantly sexual, a horny mess looking for something to use as an outlet. he's thankful to be a lieutenant, for the control and how recruits look up at him with inspiration twinkling in their eyes. it means he has superiority over all the vulnerable, stupid recruits, who are so desperate for the littlest of praise that they'll do anything, anything. :(
that's where simon finds himself drooling over you and your obedience, your eagerness to continue being the best you can possibly be; he drools over your neediness to be a good girl. how you'll write his reports while he has time to himself (and by time to himself, i mean time to jerk off), pretending your pussy isn't dripping with slickness at the sight of his hard, lengthy dick. simon can see your eyes flickering — or how you shift in your seat — how he'll use it against you, just to get off.
he'll order you onto your knees, needing something to collect his hot, thick load, something to get him even harder while he worships the pornography he watches. his breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling, bare and muscular with droplets of sweat coating his abdomen. his cheeks flushed with shame as he gazes down at the mess he's made of the new recruit; your mouth full of his load, taking it all while he continues his worshipping, clicking to the next video.
each small praise that flows from his lips has your cunt swelling with arousal in your lace panties, ready to take him, just for some compliments and rewards for being so obedient and hardworking to your supervisors. :(
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diejager · 6 months
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Gosh I read your 141 monster shots and I can't get enough! (I just keep rereading them 🥲) so I was hopeful that you'll make more base off "only human"? Maybe a little NSFW perhaps😋. Please I'll lov3 this so much! 🙇‍♀️🩷
Featherlight from Only Human cw: teasing, creampie, unprotected sex, silly sex, tell me if I missed any.
For someone on the leaner side of muscular, he was as strong as Soap was, his muscle pulled tighter and figure smoothed out with soft ridged and round edges, every curve and dip of his body felt smooth under your touch. His chocolate skin tasted sweet on your tongue with a slight tang of salt, his skin thick but malleable between your teeth, his wide shoulders naked and his mind voicing his need to have you sink your teeth in him, to add to his scars. You groan at the taste of him, something ecstatic, something sultry, something addictive, you loved him whole just as he voiced his obsession with you.
You tightened your hold on him, legs wrapped around his narrow waist, rolling your hips against him with every thrust, the way he drove his cock in you slowly and deeply. He whispered filthy things in your ear, the words rolling off his silver tongue with a sinful grin, praising you for taking him so well. 
“You’re doing so well, love,” he groaned, pressing you closer to his chest. “My sweet bird.”
You laughed at his pet name, eyes creased in amusement as you watched his wings flutter, big feathers rooted in wide wings, strong and protective around you. Even in the privacy of his room, Gaz made it a habit to shield you with his wings, a wall of flesh, bones and feathers standing between you and the world. They stood forever unmoving despite the jostling slaps and the rocking thrusts, the wet squelch and the wandering hands. 
You gripped the back of his head, fingers sinking into the back of his fade, where hair thinned out, you pulled, coaxing him to bare his throat at you. You nosed the softness under his jaw, lips trailing over his ear and the sensitive part of his neck, planting kisses and nipping with your teeth. He sighed gently, eyes rolling back and panting out his pleasure, he called out your name in reverence, a featherlight on his tongue. You loved how he sounded, his endearing moans, his low groans and his pleased grunts, it drove your senses wild with everything he did and it made you as loving as you were bratty with them.   
“I thought you were the bird, Gaz,” you smiled sweetly, arms trailing down to pull him closer to you, fingers grazing the sensitive muscle between his wings, from his neck down to his upper back. 
He jerked, cock throbbing inside of you, leaky tip coating your warm walls with pre when he bottomed out, slick dripping down his balls from over-excitement and all the teasing foreplay. His back rippled, wings moving accordingly to his flinching movement, they tensed and spasmed before settling back into motionless, a state of permanent shielding of your naked body.
“Oh? Playing cheeky now, aren’t you?” He grinned, revenge stirring in his pretty, brown eyes. “You brat.”
He snapped his hips, ramming in roughly, throwing you back against the wall he held you against, depending on his strength to support you up. You threw your head back, eyes closing as your mouth widened in ecstasy, letting out a flurry of mewls and moans. You dug your blunt nails into his back, hips bucking forwards with each hard push to meet him halfway, the uncut head berating your spongy wall, sensitive and overwhelmed by him. Your cries and pleas drove him further into carnality, tightening his grasp on your ass, being careful as to not harm you with his sharp talons, the claws he used to rip into his enemies.
Gaz felt out of control, his heart and body singing another tune than his clear mind, reacting in an animalistic way, wound up tight with this carnal need. He knew you were just as lost as him from your incoherent words and babbling tongue, lips searching for this to kiss and bite, to love and to care. Even in your shared haze of pleasure, he could see the unending fountain of adoration in your eyes, the soft cress in your brows and the smile on your face. 
If he could’ve come undone, he would, his mind running wild. He pressed himself closer, mouth wrapped around your lips, tongue and teeth nipping at you wildly, rough and hasty as he chased his end. He cursed loudly at your walls clamping around him in beats, the rapid pulse of your heart guiding the pace. His knees buckled, moaning out praises and encouragements, coaxing you in a spot of comfort and sensuality, to love yourself and let yourself go, to return what you gave him. 
He watched you unravel, body pulled taunt as you came, mouth opened in a silent scream, head falling backwards and eyes rolling back. He shuddered when you gripped him, giving a few more thrusts before he crashed, back slumped forward in exhaustion and pleasure. His cock jerked, spurting ropes of white, hot cum, painting your walls with his thick load. 
Despite being tired, he hoisted you up and stumbled to bed, letting you fall first as his wings caged you in while he peppered you in kisses. He never let go, resting with you in his arms, your face pulled to sleep on his chest with a wing moving to cover you as a makeshift blanket until he decided to pull the actual blanket over you.
“I love you,” he muttered those words softly, but they echoed loudly in your heart, the powerful beat that repeated his words.
“Love you, Gaz.”
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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antidesire · 1 year
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a lazy lil rushed piece about (id/vendetta/di) leon eating you out, that’s all,, afab!reader
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prickly stubble tickled and grazed the supple fleshy skin of your inner thighs- your body jolting and a faint yelp that would spill from your plush lips, bitten and glistening with a mixture of gloss and salvia from you and your boyfriend, leon, currently underneath you, in between your thighs.
“i’m not gonna bite you, honey.” the chuckle that vibrated in his throat ignited a domino affect of goosebumps scattering along your skin, reminding you how close he really was.
both leon’s hands were cupped at your thighs, casually slinked around them, rubbing and massaging fingertips into the plump of your skin, a gentle encouraging push to ease your hovering, surprised gasp erupting from your mouth when the tip of his nose came in contact with your clit, sparking the bundle of delicate nerves, “m’sorry sweetheart, i don’t mean to be impatient, you just smell so sweet..” he sighed out and you didn’t miss the way his brows furrowed, as though he was stressing in that beautiful head of his.
“you can sit down, i got you, your legs must hurt hovering like that.” he glanced up, speaking once again before you could worry about hurting him, as if, “i’m your big, strong, old man, don’t worry bout’ me.” he winked, “can handle sweet little things like you, my speciality.”
you couldn’t bear hear it anymore, thighs giving in, a ache lingering from holding yourself up- even though leon had been supporting your weight. “y-you’ll go slow?” you asked in something no more than a whisper.
you got no reply from the man beneath you though, about to speak up again incase he didn’t hear you but you broke out into a spew of mewls upon feeling his tongue dart out, taking a long drawn out lick of each of your labia before an even more painstakingly long lick in between, and gods, he knew he was already in love but surely this sealed the deal.
anyone may have found it overbearing, maybe silly that you were already so worked up it seemed but he just found it cute, so very cute, everything you did, your entire being, to him was cute.
and right now you smelt like that florally, fruity fragrance he bought you, and that some expensive soap from those hotels you’d been to whilst travelling with him.
you tasted even more addicting than you smelt, a sweet venom that lured him further and further.
you asked him so prettily earlier, he was really intending to do as you wish, be sweet on you, go slow but his senses were blurring along with his self restraint- if he weren’t stabilised on the bed, head between your pillowy thighs his own knees would’ve been trembling.
“leo— hghhnn!” you squeaked, hand flying up to cover your mouth, in a meagre attempt to muster up some composure.
oh but only if you knew your delicate little sounds only egged him on further, his tongue dashing out with much more force, a little sloppy but he’d chalk it up to how pretty and wet you already were.
his tongue was fucking you open, pussy slick with spit and your pearly arousal, and you only got increasingly pathetic sounding when the tip of his nose smushed against your clit, the friction and nudging adding a delicious sensation to the mix, having your toes curling and hands reaching out in a desperate manner to cling something, one of his hands reaching out, firmly lacing his fingers in between yours and squeezing enough to hurt but it didn’t matter, you squeezed back just as hard.
“m’ really— oh, oh.. think i’m really close.” broken moans gasped out, your free hand flying into his hair and tugging, earning a gorgeous grunt sound from his lips which only vibrated against you.
leon knew you wouldn’t last leon, despite your hesitations and lesser experience it didn’t take a genius to know how sensitive you are, how deprived your body really was before him, poor thing. leon was just being nice, doing you a favour, so kind of him.
he didn’t let up, neither did the grip he had on your hand or your thigh, it was painful, surely to leave bruises but your mind was far more preoccupied by the bubbling feeling sizzling in your lower stomach.
you sobbed, fat tears rolling down your warm cheeks as you pushed yourself further against his face, body moving on its own to greedily chase the oncoming euphoria.
he would’ve laughed at your eagerness if he didn’t have a face full of your pussy right now.
“le— leon! o-h my god, leon, leon!” you chanted out like a prayer and in your eyes, right now leon was the only god.
burning hot heat spread all throughout your body and you felt like you were cumming endlessly, eyes screwed shut and mouth draped open, chest almost burning from how long you had held your breath upon chasing your high.
“fuck, oh my god!” you cried out, whole body shivering as you fluttered your eyes open, heaving to catch your breath, your fingers in his hair relaxed but his grip on your hand never left, you could feeling his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand and it helped bring you back to reality.
you were dazed, brain almost lagging behind as you jutted out your lips, eyebrows furrowed as glanced down at leon between your legs, shifting your weight off of him with his help, settling yourself on his chest.
“you okay sweetheart?” he rasped out, tongue dashing out to lip over his cum soaked lips, chin glistening with it too, feeling a bolt of that same pleasure run through your body against at the sight.
you couldn’t muster out a coherent sentence, deciding a nod would suffice.
“n’aww, you’re so fucking cute, c’mere.” he pushed you against him until you were laying on his chest, brushing the back of his hand against his chin to help clean the mess you made.
you melted into a puddle as soon as his arms wrapped snuggly around your waist, your own coming around to hug onto him, head nuzzling comfortably into his chest as though he was your very own pillow.
“i love you..” you muffled out quietly against his chest,
you would’ve heard him say it back, more than once, would’ve felt the array of kisses on your head and fingers tracing along your back but you had succumb to the sweet call of rest far quicker than either of you expected, he didn’t mind though, he’d say it a million more times.
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radfemverity · 7 months
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All day on Twitter, pro Palestine westerners of both sexes have been attempting to justify the scenes in the viral video of the deceased, bloodied, half naked woman, being paraded through the streets in a pick up truck by men with machine guns chanting Allah Akbar.
It's come in 3 forms:
1. saying "where were you when the IDF did [X crime] to [Y woman]?" to people they've literally never met and do not know the politics of. They're just assuming that anyone distressed at the footage is a Jewish/Israeli supremacist who doesn't care for innocent slaughtered Palestinian people.
These whataboutery addicts are disingenuous as all fuck, and completely desensitised to acts of violence, so much so that they project their own inability to extend compassion for murder victims on "the other side", onto those whose tweets they're replying to. Victims are just gotchas to them.
But they're cupcakes compared to the next 2 categories.
2. saying that these men's murders of women, abduction of elderly ladies (separate viral incident) and other crimes against civilians is a justified reaction against apartheid and/or settler colonialism, and that Israeli people have had it coming.
I cannot believe I have to say this, but regardless of your opinion on the conflict, whether you’re a Zionist or believe Israel is an apartheid state, if you believe random women, young and old, and their children, being abducted, bombed, raped, murdered and paraded through the streets by men, is a justified response to oppression, then you are dead inside. That’s not brave rebellion. It’s plain old male savagery.
There is, sadly, an academic case which could be made that such brutalities assist the war effort of a nation to gain independence – this being a reference to the fact that the most savage empires, the ones willing to commit the most gruelling acts, tend to be the ones to come out on top during wars. History shows us - think of Rome, Japan, etc.
But this type of speculation almost always crosses the line into justifying such crimes, because it was never about speculation for speculation’s sake. It was about wanting the other side - including women and children - slaughtered. Pro-Palestine Twitter have demonstrated this perfectly today.
Please let me make this excruciatingly clear, this political behaviour is exhibited by practically every male-dominated movement and ideology there is, which is… everything other than radical feminism. Zionists do this too. As do conservatives, liberals, marxists, fascists, progressives, pacifists, nationalists of all stripes – supremacist and anti-colonial, theocrats, Islamists, etc. It’s just that the issue of today is the Israel Palestine conflict, so this is the obvious example to reference.
And the 3rd form of response, much like the 2nd, is to justify these crimes against civilians as an act of rebellion, but go one step further and laugh about it. Saying things like "play stupid games, win stupid prizes 🤣🤣", "Imfao at Israelis suddenly pretending to be victims", making wojak memes and spamming them to the people expressing distress over seeing that video of the dead woman, etc. See this example from a trans-identified man:
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Notice how at no point have I said my opinion on the Israel Palestine conflict? Because I have one. And it's probably not what either side would expect. And that’s exactly the problem. My disgust at Palestinian men parading a dead Israeli woman through the streets and spitting on her is automatically interpreted to be me supporting the Israeli state.
But your political view on the conflict should have a 0% impact on this fundamental principle: as a feminist, you do not EVER, FUCKING EVER, think that a woman on "the other side" of a mens war deserves to die.
To accuse someone of not caring about dead Palestinian women, as pro-Palestine Twitter have been doing all day, to random stranger who simply said "this is horrific" re: the dead woman in the truck, is:
a) to project your own heartlessness toward women on "the other side" onto them.
b) to further normalise the glorification of violent men, under this false veneer of their crimes being a necessary and justified revolt against whatever type of oppression they have in their society. As if stripping a woman bare and parading her through the streets has ever been a practically useful or ethical war tactic.
And c) to imply that those on "the other side" deserve whatever cruel fate meets them, simply because the male class of their society committed unjustifiable crimes.
I cannot think of anything less pro-woman, anything less feminist, than that.
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