#heartbeat inbox | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fromdove · 6 days ago

Text

› BEHIND THE WINGS ; A GIRL NAMED DOVE ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆

<══════════✴︎══════════⊹═══════════>

— 𝓔very 𝓣ime 𝓘 𝓞verthink, 𝓐 𝓟oet 𝓖ains 𝓗er 𝓦ings

<══════════✴︎══════════⊹════════✴︎══>

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ the dove & the sea 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

dove of mine,

hi again. hi. hello. bonjour. salutations. or if it's the first time... then oh, you found me. congrats, detective. i’m probably doing something painfully mundane right now — staring at a wall, overthinking the concept of ... everything — but for your imagination’s sake, let’s say i’m sipping tea and reading sylvia plath’s collected works while pretending not to spiral. (sylvia & me are spiritually linked. i would slap & scold her for half her shit and then sob into her shoulder. duality.)

i’m 15. i go by dove — soft by design, featherlight. i liked the idea of being called something gentle. the world’s too loud and too much. i just wanted to be something calm and still. something that doesn’t take up space unless it’s invited to.

but if we’re already trauma‑bonded… if we’ve had breakdowns at 2am in the same digital trenches… if you’ve seen me type with shaking hands or confess things i should’ve journaled… then you can call me dovie, or angel, or aveliraix (yes that’s the birth name), or aveli, or or or whatever falls sweet off your tongue. but lets be honest even if we havent, i wouldnt mind the nicknames... wink wink

- .... . -.-- / - --- .-.. -.. / -- . / -. --- / --- -. . / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .-. . .- -.. / - .... .. ... .-.-.- / .. / - --- .-.. -.. / - .... . -- / -.-- --- ..- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. .-.-.- / -... ..- - / -. . -..- - / - .. -- . / - .-. .- -. ... .-.. .- - . / ..-. .- ... - . .-. .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- .-..-. .-. . / .-- .- - -.-. .... .. -. --. .-.-.-

somewhere, dove awaits,

i shift. i believe in the law of assumption, i dabble in a bit of non-duality and in the strange, terrifying beauty of quantum mechanics. i believe that reality is bendable, that thought can make matter, that self is a word with loose borders. not because i want to sound profound ! im not. i dont have the answers to the universe. im not here to convince you i do.

this isn’t a gimmick. it’s just part of who i am and what i believe. i’m always happy to talk about it — curiously, honestly, even imperfectly — but not with people who treat open minds like something embarrassing. i’m not here to argue with someone who’s already decided i’m ridiculous. i’m not going to hand over my experiences for dissection. if that’s what you’re looking for, you won’t find it here. i don’t owe clarity to close‑minded people

but if you’re if you’re curious, if some part of you wants to listen — then pull up a chair

in dove's handwriting,

i’ve loved books and pencils and the smell of stationery since before i could afford any of it. i know what it felt like to trace the edge of a gel pen cap. to read a library book with cracked spines.

drawing, writing — i’m not the best. but i don’t care. i’ve lived through enough kitchen-floor lectures from my mother about pencil shavings and snapped pencils to have earned the right to say i love it anyway.

i love the scratch of pen on paper. the way a blank page looks. the tiny ceremony of picking which notebook deserves the next thought.

if you handed me a pack of color pencils or a set of new fineliners, i’d probably cry. because it reminds me of being 7 and building entire worlds out of dollar-store ballpoints.

where dove flew,

i was born in syria (on a farm in a small village), then lived in lebanon for a bit, and moved to australia when i was four. those places never really left me. syria and lebanon still live in me, so do the sound of family voices in the distance. family. grief. the corner stores. the stories told through cracked phone calls and old photos.

ethnically, i’m half armenian and half assyrian, but i usually just say armenian because it’s simpler. i don’t speak armenian, wish i did! but i do speak english, arabic and one dialect of aramaic (not that good at aramaic though!)

and oh, olive oil. middle eastern olive oil has me every time. i used to just drink it straight, slurping that thick, peppery gold. nothing else tastes like home quite like that <33 oh how i love and miss my middle eastern home

miss dove (if you're nasty),

special dedication to my first ever teacher (and my english teacher) . . .

there’s a teacher who’s always in my heart. when i first came to australia and started school at five, i didn’t speak a lick of english, but she was so sweet, so patient. i cried after that first day because i missed her, already grown attached. she brought me books, color pencils, markers, stamps, stickers — little treasures that made this strange new country feel like home.

i love her. she was the only teacher who really got me. she’s still with me, always in my mind. and then there was the redheaded angel of a teacher who would come into the class of 5 year old me and pull me aside to teach me english. also patient and kind, opening doors to words i didn’t yet know how to say <33

signed: dove , , , xoxo

⢸⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⠻⣶⣤⡶⢾⡿⠁⠀⢠⣄⢀⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⣼⠷⠀⠀⠁⢀⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠴⣾⣯⣅⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣦⡀⠒⠻⠿⣿⡿⠿⠓⠂⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⡇⣤⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿⣤⠀⠀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡿⠏⠀⢀⠀⠀⠿⣶⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣴⣿⡿⢻⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⠁⠀⢀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣟⠿⠿⠿⡿⠋⠀⠘⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⣶⣶⣿⣿⣇⣀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠿⣿⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠁⠀⣹⣿⠳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣽⣿⡿⠟⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠿⠛⠻⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣾⣿⠿⢿⣷⣀⢀⣿⡇⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

46 notes · View notes

killerlookz · 6 months ago

Note

Can u post a preview of heartbeat pleaseee im so desperate i’ve missed this au so bad

yessss.... i can :3, ahh happy WIP wednesday everyone hehehe

heartbeat! au: part 4 preview under the cut!

rpf warning, do not continue if uncomfortable!

Joost scoffs, his presence in the room suddenly overwhelming.

"You're kidding right?" His voice is dry, you can tell he is, at the very least, trying to not be accusatory, instead it just comes across as demeaning.

"What?" You're confused, unsure of what the supposed joke is.

"That you love him. You don't really? You're just saying that."

"Oh," You pause, looking down at your lap, realizing you're still undressed, "Yeah, I guess- no- I don't"

"You guess?"

"Yeah," You shrug, unsure of what he's getting at, "I guess."

"No fucking shit." Accusation becoming richer in his tone, he smiles in pure disbelief, his voice almost a laugh, "You have fucking feelings for him." He shakes his head, seemingly bewildered.

"No- I, no. I didn't say that." You turn towards Joost, stammering, you know how this will end, "No no-no I don't."

"Bullshit." He spits, standing up from where he'd been sitting on the bed, "Do you love him?" He steps to your side of the bed, standing over you, tilting his forehead down, fully interrogating you now.

Joost had never been intimidating to you, not like this, sure, before you had started dating and when you'd had a little crush on him he had made you nervous, but not intimidated.

"No- I-" God you're pathetic, stuttered no's are just about the only thing you can muster out of your mouth. You beg for any other sound to leave your mouth, but it won't, you can't.

"Say it then." His jaw clenches.

"Say what?"

"Say you have absolutely no feelings for him, tell me you don't love him."

"Joost," You start, pulling the comforter up to the chest, sensing an argument approaching, and preferring not to do it naked, "Stop this, what are you trying to prove?"

"Wanting to cut things off, wasn't about being unfair to Michael, it's because you love him." He's got it all wrong, at least, you're pretty sure he does.

"No, no, Joost that's not true I was just sick of the guilt, the sneaking around, I just want to try, I want to try to be a good person." It's all too much, tonight has been far, far too much, the warm tears finally beginning to brim in your waterline, obscuring your vision of Joost hovering above you as you look up at him. You attempt to blink them away, but the fluttering of your lashes just propels the small droplets down your cheek.

"Just, look me in the eyes, and tell me you don't have feelings for him." He's practically begging, the anger in his voice is only surface level, insecurity and anxiety buried deep beneath the demanding words.

"Please, stop, you don't need to be like this." You're fully crying now, unable to take this interrogation, god, why can't you just tell Joost you don't have feelings for Michael, why won't the words come out of your mouth?

"Exactly." Joost's face writhes, throat bobbing as he swallows down what you can assume is a desire to begin to cry, "Get out."

"W-what? Why?" He's never been like this before. Many times has Joost been angry with you, furious even. But kicking you out? That was a new one. You're unsure of what has gotten into you, and you'd be lying if you said it ddidn't frighten you just a little. "Get out?" You repeat, eyebrows furrowing, choked words barely above a whisper.

"No," He sighs, and you hope he's come to his senses. "No- no, whatever. I'm sleeping on the couch. You can leave first thing in the morning. I'll give you what you so clearly want, we'll end things here." He sounds defeated, the anger finally subsiding in his voice, giving way to whatever emotions it had been meant to mask.

#my inbox 💌#wip wednesday #heartbeat! au #joost klein x reader #rpf

63 notes · View notes

soaps-mohawk · 11 months ago

Text

Okay so in case you were wondering why I turned anon off, and won't be turning it on probably for a while, I'm here to deliver receipts.

This is a long post so I'm putting it under a cut

There's been a few cases over the last week or so of people purposefully using other anon's emojis to send asks (not all of these were questionable or malicious. If you accidentally used one already claimed, this post is NOT about you.)

It was brought to my attention by a few anons that asks were sent that were not them. A lot of these asks weren't malicious or harassing which makes it hard to tell. As is the nature of anonymous asks, I cannot tell who sends them without some kind of sign-off or emoji, hence the use of emojis. While I believe not all of these were on purpose (see above), some of them absolutely were.

This started before the debacle about a week or so ago with ♾️ anon (which it has been confirmed that the person who asked to use that emoji was not behind the anonymous asks using that emoji) harassing me about not answering their ask. I took a screenshot of said ask, and this was what they were harassing me about

When I had anon on, I'd get a lot of asks. Sometimes as many as 20 or 30 a day. I am one person running this blog, and it takes me a while to get through asks sometimes. Most people who have ever sent asks to popular blogs (which still pains me to call this one popular) knows it can take sometimes days to get an answer because we get a lot of asks constantly.

Honestly, I wasn't going to answer this one anyway because...it's odd. Especially the timing because this was sent after chapter 29 was posted, right before chapter 30, in which neither chapter had smut in it. I know some people really love angst though so I didn't want to yuck anyone's yum, it was just very odd.

So, as I do, I start with the bottom of the inbox where the oldest asks are and I work my way up to the most recent (there are exceptions in the case of asks related to a post I just made, or asks that are easy to answer with just a few words or a gif versus a long thought out answer).

Anyway about a day after that ask was sent, I got others from that anon asking if I got their ask.

Then I made a post mid-breakdown about life sucking and the horrible position I was in (See here)

They then sent in THIS ask and got publicly shamed as they should.

A day or so goes by and I start to get a flood of asks in my inbox. Some are normal-ish, kind of odd but I'm used to kind of odd questions.

Then I start to get these

Obviously those aren't those anons. Figured that out pretty fast after a few hours of them sitting in my inbox.

Soon after I get this ask as I was getting ready for a job interview and went off because I was already stressed as fuck about the interview.

And then of course after I posted that I get this in response which I took a screenshot of and answered before blocking that anon.

And as I kind of had an inkling about, those asks above as well as several other strange ones in my inbox disappeared after blocking that anon. So it had been one perpetrator behind those at least (which was not the person who claimed that emoji that was a big misunderstanding on my part and that has since been solved and resolved.)

BUT that is not the end of this story.

As the weekend happens and the chapter is posted, I continue to get asks sent in by anons with emojis and continue to get messages from either anons saying they are that emoji anon and they didn't send that in, or those anons privately messaging me and saying they didn't send those in.

So we were having several cases of emoji stealing.

I also continue to get questionable, downright harassing asks, including these two.

That last one is what broke the camel's back and what made me turn anon off. I don't know if I'm the only one getting anons like this or if this is some new fart anon trend or what, but...look. I'm all for getting horny in my inbox. But things like this?? These kinds of things border on sexual harassment and honestly, they made me feel gross. I literally felt gross after reading those.

I don't mind being told a change of panties was necessary after smut chapters but after an angst chapter?? The timing of it was what made me suspicious. If they had sent that about three chapters ago I might not have looked twice at it.

You wanna tell me you had to pull out the willy stick for a chapter, cool. Just don't tell me what hole it was in and how long. I don't need to know that much detail. You wanna send that about fictional characters?? That's what we're here for. But I don't need to know that about YOU. I have boundaries and I'm going to add this to my rules list.

These asks definitely felt like someone very immature (and likely underage) sent them which makes me feel more disgusted about it.

I blocked that anon and the ones above. I just got pushed over the edge by people not being respectful and KNOWINGLY using others emojis making me not able to trust that an anon is who they claimed to be. Between that and the harassing asks above (which were just a select few) I decided to turn anon off indefinitely. Sorry to all my anons who aren't comfortable coming off anon but I just can't do it anymore. If you previously were an anon and are comfortable sending asks, you can still use your emoji. I don't mind that at all.

So yeah, that's the long story of why I turned anon off, and the receipts of the disgusting harassing asks I was getting. Hopefully having anon off indefinitely will make those sickos grow bored of waiting and force them to reevaluate their lives or mature enough to realize they were being stupid (cautiously hopeful but probably not.) If the internet has taught us anything, it's that trolls are gonna troll into adulthood and they will never reach the point of maturity to realize they're just being stupid. That's why they live in their parents' basement alone with no friends.

#no hate to sane people that live with their parents in this economy #if i had parents i would in a heartbeat #anyway that's the story #here's the receipts #shame those gross anons #i have more asks in my inbox i'll get to tomorrow #so no one harass me #i'm joking i know y'all won't

74 notes · View notes

lurkingheartbrat · 1 month ago

Text

I've treated you with lots of visible's and thumpy hearts, now I want my ask box to be flooded with everything. dirty fantasies, roleplays, questions, compliments, whatever you're depraved mind wants.

Baby demands attention and she wants it now

8 notes · View notes

hplonesomeart · 1 day ago

Note

What are your voice headcanons for your OCs? :)

Took a while to compile all the needed clips and credits but HERE YOU GO! The official voice headcannons for all my very mentally unwell characters YIPEEE!! Thank you for caring enough to ask about it (was expecting most followers to just scroll past the post since it’s not Mr. Puzzle related lmao). I cherish them all oh so much and definitely didn’t project my emotions onto them during my time in high school! :’D

This isn’t the direct casting verbatim for the characters btw. For instance, if I was to actually pitch creating a show surrounding these characters to some network down the line, I’d try to find an actual non-binary actor to portray Daniel & better match certain character ethnicities. But as it is, this is a good starting point so I can convey what type of tonal inflections and vocal range I’m envisioning for them in my head. Hope it helps! <3

*Content Warning for the video: Minimal amount of curse words and depressing themes. Trust me the somber tone makes sense and resonates with lore context/overarching storylines

youtube

#LISTEN I had to upload it onto my secondary channel because when unlisted videos pile up on my main I get confused 😭#it comes distracting because others can’t see the unlisted stuff but I SEE IT EVERY TIME I LOOK FOR CHANNEL UPDATES #so not it’s getting yeeted onto the secondary to spare my sanity lol #….and I was too lazy to wait for it to upload directly onto Tumblr :P #more fast and efficient this way I spent too long on editing it together as it is #ANOTHER SIDE NOTE: I kept hunting and scouring Emery’s YouTube channel trying to find a specific cover #long while ago he had a public video singing ‘only fools fall for you’ with artwork of Marshall Lee from Adventure Time #and OH it was a GORGEOUS cover. It’s driving me stir crazy that I can’t find it anywhere :((#I would’ve put that song as Jordan’s voice in a heartbeat but I had to choose ‘Reflection’ instead #still a good song but….not the same. My heart aches now #hplonesome art #random #rip squad #answering asks #answering inbox #inbox ask #responding to inbox #responding to messages #answering questions #answering inbox questions #my ocs #save for later

4 notes · View notes

thatspookyswitch · 6 months ago

Text

I just want to be held. The past two years have been awful and I don't know what to do with myself right now. I am just sad and in a rut and I just want to be held so bad.

#inbox is always open #I can't give up even though if I could I would take the chance in a heartbeat

3 notes · View notes

spaciebabie · 2 years ago

Note

Imagine for just a sec, that you are working at your desk. Answering customer support calls while brainstorming possible ideas to improve working conditions for the company to present to the next meeting because work is hell. You have been working for hours now, and every time you try to take a break you get a call. You are close to breaking down after a customer screamed slurs at you for not refunding their 5000 dollar dress from 10 years ago. Caffeine making you anxious and the words on the computer blurring together as tears form in your eyes before you hear loud thumping towards you. A while ago, this noise would have made you shriek in fear and bolt, but now it is a comforting sound temporarily postponing your meltdown. Fur-covered metal heavily drops down onto your neck, taking up the entire gap and more. You feel the warmth of his body as he slowly speaks.

“You okay darling?”

All you can do is shake your head as you hear his gruff, booming voice right next to you. It reverberates through your body and calms you down. The comforting weight of his head lifts off as arms the size of your stomach and more wrap around your chair and waist as his head settles on the top of your head. He always knows when you need him. It's almost inhuman. You smile as he cranes his neck over your head and you see the upside down face of your beloved Springtrap as he boops noses with you. His form of a kiss. He rests his head back on yours and pressed his chest into your back as you lean into his touch. You know he is kneeling down to do this.

fried sifmk gonna fjucking kill yopu

#HEARTBEAT ANON IS IN MY INBOX AGAIN TOO I SAW IT YESTERDAY B4 I LEFT FOR WORK #OHHHHH #HOHOHHHHHH #spacie splains #IM GONNA END UP BEING A FLUSTERED MESS AGAIN ARENT I

18 notes · View notes

hoonvrs · 1 year ago

Note

boop

deep.

#inbox — new msg!#at 12 weeks xin has a heartbeat #xin !#iix — moots!

3 notes · View notes

killerlookz · 7 months ago

Note

i hope this doesn’t put any pressure on you because its not meant to at all but can u give us a preview of anything in your drafts 🥲

yes! absolutely i can <3 here's an extra long preview bc i haven't published anything in a hot min:

preview of the heartbeat!au "honeymoon phase" fic:

warnings: rpf below, do not proceed if you dont fw that but this is in rpf tags so why were you even here to begin with

The light of your phone sears into your eyes, a start contrast from the dark of your bedroom. By now your circadian rhythm undoubtedly in deep disarray. However bad you knew staying up way into the early hours of the morning was, you couldn't seem to rip yourself from the distraction of the blue light, perfectly coded algorithms keeping your anxieties at bay.

For the last week of your life your usual peaceful sleep had been ripped through by horrific nightmares, leading you to prefer to just skip sleeping all together. Of course, you knew that wasn't exactly possible, but maybe if you could just avoid falling asleep until the sun came up you could finally be freed of those dreaded night terrors.

The mattress dips beside you, a groan falling from Joost's lips, peacefully asleep next to you. It had been hours since you had said goodnight to each other, since he kissed you with the promise that you two would soon would be deep in slumber. You hadn't bothered to tell him about your nightmare issue, it had felt so childish. You had only been together for a few months now, your relationship seeming far too fresh to deal out what you had deemed "embarrassing" information. Besides, what was he to do about that? It wasn't like he had the power to change the workings of your subconscious mind.

The comforter slips from Joost's shoulders as he shuffles in his sleep, rolling from one side to another, now facing you. You finally pull yourself from your endless scrolling, turning your head to get a look at Joost. He's illuminated just right by the sliver moonlight that peaks through your curtains. The corners of your mouth peak in a slight smile, a rush a warmth running through you as your eyes finally settle on him.

You couldn't believe your luck with him, desperate for friends outside of your classmates after making the leap of faith to transfer schools and move to a different country for your final year of university. You'd been working as a waitress in Amsterdam, which, all things considered wasn't an ideal position for you, given your less than stellar Dutch, but locals were usually sympathetic to your situation, and tourists hardly spoke Dutch anyway. The day you had met Joost had started as what you had postulated to be the worst shift of your life. Hungover during a rush that seemed to last for hours, constantly seated with the most impossible to please customers. Once you were out of the weeds you had been seated with what you were promised to be your last table of the night, trying your best to suppress a groan and an eye roll as you walked up to the table, your eyes immediately falling to Joost, who had been there with what you would eventually learn were his closest friends.

You had thought you known the type, unruly hair, and scattered tattoos, dressed head-to-toe in Supreme, a cocky smile pressed to his lips. Attractive no doubt, but a type. The type that was undoubtably too interested in the Soundcloud rap scene, probably attempting to make it in that space too as a cheap rip-off of Lil Peep. The type to blow all his money on what streams his mediocre raps did get on box-logo shirts and supreme branded underwear. You could already hear the surface-level introspection of his lyrics, writing about how sad and heartbroken he'd been left by all the girls in his life when in reality he was nothing more than a fuckboy with a shitty nail polish job.

Being young and living in a city you had seen the type before, served the type more than a handful of times since you had started your job. They were always the same, traveled in large groups, like that was their "entourage", usually loud, demanding, and obnoxious, thinking their 2,000 Soundcloud streams, hundred dollar T-shirts and knock-off designer shoes made them a celebrity. They'd flirt with you and act aghast when you dared not to flirt back with them.

You had thought you known the type. But when you had gone up to begin helping his table, your previous perceptions had immediately been shattered- immediately becoming even more attractive upon your realization that he wasn't the worst. There was a quiet flirting underneath his goofy- yet reserved demeanor, the type of flirting you didn't mind and eventually reciprocated when he'd become a regular.

It was apparent that you had gotten the fuckboy thing all wrong. When he had finally got the courage to ask you out he hadn't even seen particularly in a hurry to sleep with you, though that wouldn't stop you from giving it up that night.

As Joost softly snores from beside you, you can't help but want nothing more than to be fitted snuggly between his arms, head pressed to his chest- listening to his heartbeat as you fall into a deep, peaceful sleep. But your current aversion to sleeping aside, you can't bring yourself to potentially wake him to do so.

You take your eyes from him, focusing back on the harsh light that burns into your retinas, continuing your scrolling, barely distracted by another long groan leaving Joost's lips.

"Ga slapen," (go to sleep) His voice surprises you, slow and thick with sleep- you hadn't expected him to be awake.

"Hmm?" You hum, pretending to not have heard him, you set your phone down on the bedside table and focus your attention to Joost.

"Hoe lat is het?" (What time is it?) He yawns, struggling to open his eyes.

You don't want to answer, knowing he'll question you on why you're up so late.

"Go back to sleep," You coo, hoping he'll be tired enough to listen without any resistance. You reach out a hand, slowly carding your fingers through his hair. You lift some pieces that had gotten stuck to his forehead with sweat, Joost was the type to overheat in his sleep, furiously kicking the blankets off of the two of you in the middle of the night, or perhaps worse rolling over onto you while he slept, causing you to suffocate in his humid body heat.

"Nhn, nhn." He tuts, his eyes finally opening entirely, "Je kan niet zomaar (You can't just)- Nhn, You can't just rub my head back to sleep." English finally coming back to him as he sits himself up against the pillows, his head now at your shoulder height in your upright position.

"I tried," A small smile pokes at your lips.

"Why are you awake?" His questioning isn't interrogative, still clearly very sleepy as he nuzzles his head into the pillow, "What time is it?" He asks again.

"I don't know," You mumble, your voice dipping out, answering more-so the latter question.

"You can't lie to me," Joost presses his forehead to your arm, snuggling in to you. How true that was. It surprised you how fast he was able to learn you- the subtleties of your mannerisms, able to pick up on your true emotions from the smallest tells.

"It's late," You simply respond, "I'll go to bed soon." Trying to avoid any further questioning.

"Not soon," Joost whines, his voice stifled by where his lips touch your skin. He throws an arm around the front of you, "Now."

You can't do much besides sigh in response, fidgeting under the comforter to sink down to his level. Your face is right in front of Joost's now, the warmth of his slow breaths ghosting over your skin.

"Sleep now," Joost tightens the arm he had slung around you, using it to pull you closer to him. He's unbearably warm, but you melt into him anyway, turning on your side to press your chest into his.

"I can't."

"Not tired?" Joost asks, "Why not?"

"So tired."

"Then sleep." Joost puckers his lips, barely stretching out his head to press a kiss to your forehead. It's so simple to him just sleep, if only it was that easy for you.

"Can't Joost."

"Why not?" He asks again, pushing harder this time.

"Dunno," You hum, pausing for a moment trying to formulate the least embarrassing way to describe your situation, "Bad dreams I guess, I dunno." You speak quickly, hoping maybe he won't catch all of it, the processes of his brain slowed by sleep.

Joost suddenly becomes more aware, more awake, like you've said some sort of sleeper phrase to activate something in him.

"Could have just told me that, schatje." He coos, it's reassuring, and you suddenly feel so stupid for holding that in. "Could have told me that before I feel asleep without you."

"Seemed stupid." You sigh, pushing your face further into the pillow.

"Not stupid." Joost assures, "What are they about?"

"Don't know. Just- bad."

"I'm sorry." Joost frowns. You feel the arm that he holds around you sneak under the comforter, coming to snake around your torso, his hand pushing into your back to press your body closer to him. The front of your T-shirt no longer just grazing the bare skin of his chest, but rather the two of you have molded into each other. "What can I do?" His lips now pressed against your shoulder from this closer position.

"Nothing,"

"No?" He places a small kiss to your shoulder through the fabric of your shirt.

"Not unless you can go into my brain and control my subconscious and make me dream of like puppies and rainbows." You follow with a dry laughter, any real humor stifled by your exhaustion.

"Mmm, if I could I would liefje."

#my inbox 💌#current wip #joost klein x reader #joost klein rpf #rpf #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fic #heartbeat! au

84 notes · View notes

fromdove · 16 years ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⁞ 𝓓OVE 𝓐VENUE // 𝓗AZARDOUS

────── ⌗ ﹫ FROMDOVE ✰ dove .ᐟ ✶ A girl in the anthropological sense and the mythological one.

「 dove 」 ꕤ sheher , armenian , 15 , intp , psychology-coded eldest daughter syndrome , bookmarked heart , annotated everything , written by sylvia plath w/ edits by nabakov, d. grayson's little dove, j.todd's notebook girl , selina kyle's sapphic situationship , vanilla flavored , n1 fan of tragic women , tea runs in my veins , books eat me alive , i am mostly made of characters i’ve fallen in love with & girls i’ve imagined being , dc loyalist , comic panel heart w/ a murder mystery brain , i have too many selves. they rotate. terminally aware. part-girl , part-overdue library book , all eyes & no sleep , soft-spoken detective.

shelf ; guidelines ; loml's ; pinterest ; shifting + loa

requests: currently open

✶ I’m not okay but also I’m fine. Like, don’t touch me but also hold my hand.

#⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆fromdove.com .ᐟ #✶⋆.˚ the perversions of quiet girls .ᐟ #﹙ dove's flight log ₊˚⊹ ⸝⸝#୨୧.𖥔 dovecore 🕊️☆ .ᐟ #૮⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ა dove writesˎˊ˗#💌 — dove replies ˚₊‧#⋆ inbox chirps 🪽#꒰🪽꒱ shifting skies w/ dove #🌫️ dove dr entries ˖ ࣪ ⊹#𖦹 reality dove hop !#♡⃕ dove’s loml shrine ꒰˶ᵕ༚ᵕ˶꒱#୨୧ dove’s heartbeats ˚₊#⸝⸝ 💭 dove’s dearest ˎˊ˗#🪽 dove assumes it done.#⌗ dove manifests ⋆｡˚#ᡣ𐭩 dove’s loa diary ˖#⸝⸝ read before flying ! ⊹ dove ver.#⟡ dove takes wishes ˚₊#⊹˚₊ dove l♡ves her dovelings 🕊️⋆˚࿔ !

45 notes · View notes

dreadbornesaint · 6 months ago

Text

tag dump - gen

#『 OUT OF CHARACTER. 』 — the cradle of cataclysm dictated by one‚ eternal observer and keeper of perpetuity.#『 OOC REPLIES. 』 — the fluttering of the veil reveals another mask‚ voiced and voiceless coalesce into transient time.#『 QUEUE. 』 — the time will pass regardless‚ the worlds will keep turning‚ with or without her.#『 OOC ANSWERED. 』 — yellowed records and decayed parchments‚ the answers sought on the edge of faded vellum can no longer be recalled.#『 OPEN STARTER. 』 — devour everything in flame and in snow‚ conquest and surrender form the illuminated bridge.#『 MEME. 』 — eternity passes even as the hourglass no longer turns‚ a languid reverie to recalibrate the sandglass.#『 PSA. 』 — hark‚ be not afraid‚ listen to the thunderous words that fall before the crashing tides.#『 PROMO. 』 — the banner is raised and thy name be sung‚ only the worthy remain in the halls hallowed by time.#『 SELF PROMO. 』 — blaspheme the holy names and cast aside the saints‚ honor the heretical and be saved by righteous crusade.#『 STARTER CALL. 』 — abyssal waters and empty seas mirror the heavens‚ the angel of the deep lurks beneath the glassy surface.#『 INBOX CALL. 』 — spilled ink glimmers in lantern light‚ the unwritten words coalesce into a pool of eternity.#『 PLOTTING CALL. 』 — hie to the blackest depths where light cannot reach‚ witness myths as they are written bringing light to the blighted.#『 LONG POST. 』 — to follow the river is to meet the ocean‚ the journey is long and the river is wide.#『 WISHLIST. 』 — to have a desire is to be haunted by it‚ a yearning without a name and a longing without a wish.#『 ANONYMOUS. 』 — the lost lambs find their way to the slaughterhouse‚ to abandon the shepherd is to abandon safe pasture.#『 TO BE DELETED. 』 — a mirage of madness‚ appearing but for a heartbeat‚ an eternity witnessed and unseen.#『 SAVED. 』 — preservation of the relics unseen and unknown‚ bewildering and maddening and treasured all the same.#『 ART. 』 — dark mists part and time passes ever strangely‚ the vision only realized and made comprehensible by lunacy.#『 MOBILE. 』 — the blood of sacrifice muddies the black sands‚ scarlet scourge of all things constrained by cosmic vow.#『 DASH GAMES. 』 — the sword of the righteous‚ the scales of the just‚ pastimes to quiet the burning bloodlust.#『 EDITS TAG. 』 — please do not repost or reuse or repurpose.

0 notes

syluss-littlecrow · 5 months ago

Text

night of secrecy

the extension of Nights of Secrecy card by syluss-littlecrow ♥️

warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, steamy fucking, pussy eating, overstimulation, orgasms for sure, Sylus should be a whole ass warning by himself!, extension scenes for LADS card, canon events (TO ME!!!),

a/n: I'm back!!! At least for now... Also happy new year my little crows. I apologise for the extreme inactivity. Life caught me by the throat and flung me unfortunately not into Sylus's arms 😔🙏🏻 nonetheless, I was the happiest person on earth when we finally, FINALLY, got a spicy card for Sylus!! It was... WOO. definitely needed to extend the in-between scenes because thats what I wanted and y'all are suffering with me. Love you all as always and take care ♥️ also! Please give me a while to go through my inbox!! I'll try to answer your messages as much as I can! 🙏🏻

w/c: 2.8K

“Looks like we’re on the same page on not wanting to waste time.”

His voice pulled your attention back to him. You watch the way his eyes are pretty much devouring you whole, and you've suddenly forgotten what he tastes like. And obviously, you’re ready to go in for seconds.

Your mind is slowly clouding from the desire seeping into your veins. The intensity of Sylus’s gaze on you suddenly dawn's onto you and you're briefly distracted by the snow pattering against the windows, your gaze grazing the midnight sky with snow looking like glitter, dousing the whole area outside of the warmth you're enveloped in.

Before you realise it, Sylus snaps your attention back to him.

Your eyes are back on him, and the way he's staring right into you sends you fucking shivers.

“Don't get distracted at a time like this, kitten.”

Your hands wrap around his neck and you yank him closer, not missing the way Sylus’s eyes widen for a split second before he’s tasting you again.

God, you taste so fucking good.

The kisses grow deeper and more desperate, just like the first round on the couch, but this time, Sylus wants to make sure he's the one eating you whole. You let soft moans slip out between exchanging tastes, and you hear Sylus take a deep inhale. He’s got his weight pressed onto you, but he's trying not to crush you, and you feel his thick cock pressing hard against the inner of your thigh.

Who's gonna drive who crazy first?

The silk bedding beneath you only grows warmer, completely taken over the heat both of you are emitting.

“No looking.”

His palm blocks your vision, shutting off your sight, the intensity of your other senses slowly setting ablaze.

His kisses are relentless, sprinkled with soft bites along your bottom lip. His fingers find yours on the bed, tightening your grip, his moans and breathing growing in intensity against your lips. You want to keep this sensation and him in a jar and lock it up forever.

Sylus lifts his palm off your eyes, knowing he's had his fill for now and knowing that he has you soaked and sticky, he watches you catch your breath, your eyes in a daze. The faint smear of your lipstick on his lips from ruining yours catches your attention.

Maybe you should wear red lipstick more often.

His eyes are back on you now, his breathing still heavy. Even though the lights are dim and warm, the way you have his cheeks dusted with red all the way to his ears makes your heartbeat accelerate. You've never come this close to seeing the leader of Onychinus look like this.

Your fingers trace below his left eye, and a rush of possessiveness bleeds through your words, barely a whisper.

“Am I being too greedy…if I want you to keep your eyes only on me?”

A soft chuckle comes out of Sylus. He catches your wrist before it falls and presses his lips gently against your palm before he locks his eyes with you again

“You've always had that right. Which means you could be even greedier.”

And his lips dive for your cheek, and trails down to your jawline, and down to your neck, setting the patches of skin he kisses ablaze. He bites and sucks, making sure he leaves his mark, hiding his satisfaction whenever he hears you whine his name.

You feel the warmth of his palm slide down your thigh, and it gives you goosebumps. You watch the way he kisses the top of your knee as he lets his fingers trail lower down.

“Do you want it, kitten?”

The “yes” that spills out of your lips almost instantaneously draws a smirk from Sylus. He's ready to leave your clothes in pieces. But your palm presses against his bare chest just before he gets a chance to go further, as if stopping him. Sylus pouts slightly, grabbing your thighs once more.

“You haven't changed your mind, have you? You just said yes?”

Only when he catches the playful grin you wear that he realises that you're painfully teasing him. Nonetheless, he plays along with you–spoiling you with kisses as he pulls you by your legs closer to him.

“I'm hoping your answer is still yes…”, he mutters, switching his gaze between you and your supple thighs.

“…because I'm not holding back anymore.”

His fingers hook the waistband of your panties, and he slides it off your legs, his lips curled in a satisfied smile when notices the glistening sheen of your panties.

He thinks you're so fucking pretty when you're unraveled and wet for him.

Sylus has his palms pushing your legs apart, his attention now on your soaked pussy, practically inviting him for a taste.

He presses his lips against your pussy lips, his tongue then gliding up and down, brushing against your clit, over and over. You hate how he's so perfectly precise at finding your weakest spots. But then again, you let him into your territory, and that's your problem to enjoy.

Your breathing gradually staggers, your fingers curling against the soft white locks of his hair. Sylus is forcing your hips to stay onto the bed while he fucks you with his tongue. He hears you whimpering his name every time his tongue flicks against your clit, the pleasure shooting up your spine over and over again.

“S-Sylus..”, you mumble, your pussy pulsating once more when he sucks on your clit. “Gonna cum. Fuck.”

Sylus doesn't directly respond to you, but rather, his fingers that aren't holding your lower body down circles the entrance of your soft pussy, and then he pushes his fingers in.

You gasp, your body jolts slightly from the pressure. Now you're clawing the bedsheets and your moans pour out of you freely, competing with the squelching and wet sounds coming from your cunt.

His muffled moans vibrate against your cunt, as if beckoning you to just let it all out, and it drives you over the edge topped with his fingers fucking your pussy, long enough to hit your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, fuck! Sylus I'm cumming-”, cutting off when your orgasm hits you fucking hard in waves, the pleasure tingling down your spine, your mind in a beautiful, horny mess, only filled with Sylus.

Only when your body settles down, and your legs snap together by instinct, does Sylus slowly lift his messy lips off you, and his fingers, covered in your cream, staining the red bedding in the process.

He really pulled every single orgasm out of you–you’re left catching your breath, and trying to stop your thighs from shaking.

In a haze, you watch Sylus drop his shirt onto the floor, his fingers unbuttoning his pants impatiently. He slides both apparels off swiftly, letting his thick cock free from the fabric tightness.

You swallow at the size of him, but at the same time, you just really want him to fuck the thoughts out of you so fucking bad.

Sylus combs his hair back, the red flush on his face growing more obvious.

Then he's back to distracting you with his kisses down your thighs, slowly going back up to your lips, not forgetting to give your tits a nice squeeze.

You feel his cock brush against your pussy, drips of his precum mixing into your mess.

Your fingers stroke his hair as he deepens the kiss. You feel the cold metal of his necklace pressing onto you, and it's definitely heating up.

His lips hover near your ear.

“Could I, kitten? Please?” It almost comes off as a beg and it tickles you ears so good.

Honestly you couldn't say no even if you wanted to, you're as hungry for him as he is for you.

You push him away. For a second, Sylus is ready to cease in case you really aren't ready.

Instead, you slowly spread your legs once more in front of him, the initial shyness replaced by boldness.

“It's all for you Sylus. Didn't you say I could be greedier?”

Sylus knows he's the luckiest man in the fucking world.

He bends and pushes your legs, almost folding you into half. His cock is lined right at your pussy hole, almost teasing you. But before any words could come out of your mouth, he pushes in, filling you instantly, stretching your hole open. You take a sharp inhale, grasping Sylus’s outstretched hand, and Sylus pauses, waiting for you to adjust, even though he's only half way in.

“You're so fucking tight for me, kitten. I'm only half way in.”

You squeeze his hand in retaliation, and Sylus is amused by the pout you wear on your face.

“You're too big..” you mutter.

Sylus only chuckles, stroking your thighs in an attempt to comfort you.

He feels you relax, but he watches for your reactions, and when you give him the green light, he stretches you out with the remainder of his length, knocking the wind out of you. He leans in, mostly hovering over you so he doesn't crush you with his weight.

“You gotta let me in, sweetie. You're squeezing me a little too good here”, he teases, his lips trailing down your neck.

You're practically breathless and filled to the brim. It feels like fucking heaven–squeezing against his cock and hearing Sylus gasp when you tighten around him.

You catch his lips with your palm when he's about to bite against the skin there.

“No biting here.”

His hands release your thighs at the same time, instead, taking both your wrists above you and holding them down with one hand.

“First you want it rough, now you want it soft. Aren't you a hard one to please tonight, kitten?”

He opts for kisses instead, and it melts into your skin, once again sending shivers.

“Why won't you be a good girl and tell me what you want you really want kitten?”

The way he's calling you a good girl with a voice velvet and drizzled in honey sends you shivers.

“I'm not falling for your tricks…” you mumble.

Sylus kisses your ear and his low groans whenever he feels you tighten around him.

“Then I'll start moving, kitten.”

You nod. Unfortunately, your hands are still bound above you, so that's the most you could do.

When Sylus begins thrusting slowly in and out of you, your mind slowly goes blank. All that's flooding in is how fucking good he feels in you. Your greed grows into a bottomless hole at an exponential speed. His name spills from your lips like a mantra, and you call him over and over again, sometimes getting cut off with a moan when he hits the perfect spot.

“I love it so much when you call my name, sweetie. It sounds like heaven in my ears.” He's barely able to form his sentence when you squeeze him again, sucking him back into the endless rounds of euphoria.

“Feels good. Sylus, you feel so good,” you whimper, realising you're letting yourself get lost into his heat. You feel him smile against your skin while he presses more kisses all over your face and neck. He pulls out momentarily, leaving you empty and slightly frustrated.

The tension builds, and he releases your hands in the midst of his kisses, letting you switch positions–landing yourself above him.

Your ego swells up slightly when Sylus casts you a suprised expression. But it quickly turns into a smile.

“Ah, so what you wanted was control?”

His cock is just resting right at your ass and you feel the warm, sticky fluids slide right down to your pussy.

You watch him lick his lips.

“Unfortunately, I can't give it to you”, he says. “At least, not yet.”

His hands glide upwards to the round of your ass, pressing his cock right at your pussy hole.

You lift your hips slightly, his cock pushing into you the second time, with much less resistance thanks to how wet the both of you got. It still takes your breath away when he fills you up. You swear he's bulging in you.

Sylus’s warm hands rub circles from your hip to your waist to soothe you, despite the fact that he almost could break just from watch you take his cock right in front of him.

“That’s my good girl. You're taking all of me so well.”

Your mind is threatening to fall apart from the pleasure once more. It's dizzy and thick, building a thick haze in your mind once more.

You lift your hips and he pushes you down, his cock filling you up again.

And soon enough, you're bouncing on his cock.

His grip on your waist is firm yet tender. He guides your hips, and peppers words of encouragement while he fucks you from below.

“That's it, kitten. Like that. Just for me.”

“Feels good hm? Of course it does. Look at your pretty fucked out face.”

“Good girl–hng–! you're such a good fucking girl for me.”

You watch the ways his eyebrows knit in pleasure. At times, he’d barely have his eyes open, from the way he's doing everything in his power not to explode in you. Not yet. He wants to be a little more greedier.

Maybe just a little more. He doesn't want it to end so quickly.

After all, greed can't be satisfied. Only momentarily.

Sylus knows that all too well. And god forbid he'd keep you locked up in here with him as long as he wanted.

Shit. You're taking so much from him and it feels so fucking amazing.

Your thighs are trembling from riding Sylus. It's too much yet not enough at the same time. His thickness presses against your g-spot endlessly, and Sylus swallows hard when you throw your head back, the sweat trickling down your neck, past your tits, all the way down, while your whole body shakes in sheer pleasure, accompanied by the obscene wet noises.

“Look at me, kitten.” His voice lures you back to him, like it always does.

You make eye contact with him, your eyes so pretty and glazed, as if in a spell. Under his spell.

“How are you feeling?” His finger traces down your chin.

“So full. I’m feeling so full of you”, you manage to reply, lifting your hips, letting Sylus see the full view of the wet, creamy, sticky mess you've made on his cock. You still have the rest of him stuffed deep in you, and you're not lasting any longer.

Every thrust he pushes into you drives you closer to the edge a second time.

Sylus groans and bucks his hips when you lower yourself on him once more. At this moment, he realises nothing in this world could be better than this.

“Feels weird, Sylus”, you mutter, pulling your pussy lips to take more of him in. You're grinding slightly more desperately, the tension builds. Fuck, you're gonna cum again.

The sounds of skin slapping only grow wetter, thicker and louder. Sylus bites his lip when he feels you go tight on him, his hands now on your ass, taking a handful and guiding you to fucking him.

“Fuck. Feels so good, kitten. You're gonna cum all over me?”

Too delirious, soaked in complete pleasure and begging to chase the high, you nod.

He listens to you sob and cry when your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering all over his dick. Sylus cups your cheeks and pulls you in for another wet and messy kiss.

“Cumming too, kitten. Be a good girl and take it all.”

Unfortunately he doesn't give you a chance to answer, mostly because you have your tongue out for him to devour and he doesn't hesitate. His low moans flood through your ears, his warm and thick cum filling you up so much that it leaks out of you before he pulls out.

He hears you squeal but the sounds of wet kisses override it, and he still makes you bounce off his cock until he's satisfied with emptying everything in you.

The air is thick and still for a moment when the both of you pull away, pants filling up the room.

The both of you have red flushed on your cheeks. His grip on you loosens. Instead you move in for a kiss on his forehead, which takes him by surprise.

In the second, he realises how much he adores you.

You're his first love, and you'll be his last.

Your phone pings in the middle of the day, just as you reached home after dropping Sylus off from cleaning up his mission.

There are two messages–one from Sylus and one from…Luke and Kieran?

The message preview from Sylus stating to call him when you're home safe. But your curiousity is piqued with Luke’s message. Before you could respond, Kieran’s messages pops into the groupchat with the three of you in. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion at first, but then you laugh it off.

Luke: Did you know if something happen to boss-man? I've never seen him glow like this before.

Kieran: holy shit he actually smiled and greeted us when he came in 🤔 is the world ending?

#l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deep space sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #l&ds smut #love and deep space smut #sylus x reader #sylus smut

2K notes · View notes

reidrum · 6 months ago

Text

glory of the snow

note: the return of insecure!reader my beloved <3 i had a bunch of requests to bring her back so i hope we like it! this is really just a gentle reminder from spencer that we should be kinder to ourselves. also i wanted to have them actually fuck but it didn't seem right to fit that in here so ,,, part 2 question mark who is to say. anyways my inbox is always open for any thoughts, comments, questions, musings all of it! love y'all mwah

summary: you freak out when spencer walks in on you accidentally, and he just loves you too much to let it go

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, masturbation (r, just mentions), heavy petting/kissing, comfort, talks of intimacy issues, self-deprecating reader

wc: 3k

“Oh, sweet girl.”

Three words, maybe two and one syllable, that in any other instance would have had you melting into a puddle at the softness it reared. Words that have so easily turned you into a preening cat but are now aimed at you, albeit no judgement from his end, with no room for escape.

Spencer had come home after a long day of paperwork when he first heard it. He would have brushed it off if it didn’t happen again moments later, and louder. Concerned, he walks toward the bedroom, a flush rushing to his face as he comes to recognize what it is. A small crack of the door allowed him the glorious sight of you in the center of the bed, hand between your legs, eyes shut in ecstasy. You’re mesmerizing to him and he really can’t bring himself to look away, and he doesn’t notice himself subconsciously leaning on the door causing a faint creak that alarmed you to his presence. In that moment, however, he’s less worried about scaring you, and more about the overwashing look of shame on your face.

The soft creak of the door pulled you out of your daze, screaming when you saw the figure behind the door. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets nearly, heartbeat still racing with adrenaline from when you haphazardly threw the blanket over yourself. You were conflicted, but getting caught doing something that is a common and completely normal instance in relationships really shouldn’t make you feel this guilty. Although you do know the guilt was created by a previous version of you where you had told Spencer that you wanted to take the pace of your relationship slowly, and had little to no desire to engage in such activities for the time being. Or so you said.

He cautiously steps closer, careful not to startle you further, “I’m not upset, or anything.”

You’re not upset either, you’re mortified. “I lied to you.”

��You did…but I don’t think you meant to, right?”

There had been a time where you were tangled all up in him, and poor Spencer, his hands were in the wrong place at the wrong time to no fault of his own and entirely yours, and your shutdown was unavoidable. The blood in your veins seized up like crystallizing water turning into ice, paralyzing both the physical and mental before you could realize.

Intimacy for you was a complicated concept. While it wasn’t novel or unwanted, physical intimacy was something you struggled to accept with open arms. Call it a consequence of your self perception, but it was hard to accept the soft touch of love when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Spencer never minded, although his heart ached to make you see yourself the way he saw you, he was always more than willing to meet you where you were.

It almost pains you with how understanding Spencer was of the whole situation because you knew any other person would be deeply upset. Every other person was upset.

Spencer never was just any other person, you suppose.

“I don’t know how to explain this.” Another lie, you could easily explain the reason.

It’s not that you weren’t ready, it’s that you didn’t feel like you looked ready. The thought of subjecting Spencer to the one dark cornerstone of your being in the early days of being together seemed illogical and burdensome, and so it was more simple to play it off as wanting to take a slow pace.

But, as biology would see it you have needs and your boyfriend just happens to be so detrimentally attractive that the simplest act has been sending you into a hot fit as of late. The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers. You had no chance.

You had found that your intimacy issues lie within extending it to others, and less with yourself. The solution of you finding release on your own quickly became a habit when you realized there was no fear on your own. There’s no one to let down if you’re alone.

Spencer perches at the foot of the bed, flat hand outstretched on the blanket towards you but keeping a comfortable distance, “You don’t have to explain anything, honey.”

“No I know, but—fuck—I should.” you bury your face, choosing to only speak to him from behind your hands for now, maybe forever.

He takes a moment to take inventory of your physical being—you don’t look in pain. Clearly you didn’t sound in pain. Your face is flushed, and though he’s sitting a little far from you, the heat radiating from your body hits him like a space heater.

“Sweetheart…I’m not upset.” he repeats, in hopes a reminder might provide reassurance.

It doesn’t. “You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.” you mumble.

“You make it kind of hard to be upset at you, ever really.” Spencer braves and lays a hand on your leg.

You take a deep breath, the cold of his hand grounding you more and more. Spencer senses the calm it’s bringing you and rubs circles into your calf.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” he asks gently.

What are you even feeling? You ponder for a moment—anxious, nervous, bad.

“Embarrassed.”

“Honey, there’s nothing embarrassing about masturbating. In fact, it’s more than healthy to do it to keep cortisol levels low,” he explains, “I just don’t know why you didn’t…want to tell me.”

The guilt swirls in your gut, hearing the twinge of hurt buried beneath the comfort he’s laid out for you. He just wants to help you, but you won’t let him in and that hurts him more.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“It’s just…I…Look it’s…You’re just so hot—“ you slip out, clamping your hand over your mouth before leaking any more intrusive thoughts.

A faint smirk ghosts his face, “I’m…hot?”

“No—Well, yes. I just…ugh.”

“Okay, okay calm down,” he scoots closer and gently brings the hands covering your eyes to rest in your lap, “You don’t need to be all secretive, you know I’d never judge you.”

“I know,”

“I just thought you wanted to wait.”

“I do.”

“But, not with me? It’s okay if it's not with me.”

“Spence, I do. It’s not that.”

“Am I missing something?”

You gulp, “I just…it’s a personal problem. With me. Not you.”

His brows furrow, “Like what, baby? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Yeah, if a doctor can fix my shoddy self esteem and make me like myself again.” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh.

The pause he takes seems to be ages long before he speaks again, “Angel, how long have you been feeling like that?”

You’ve been caught red-handed, water filling up the tank faster than you can tread, “It’s nothing, I was just joking.”

“Hey,” he says with a rare firmness, “How. Long?”

You deflate under his hard gaze, “A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.” you trail off.

Spencer couldn’t hide the hurt on his face if he tried. Not hurt from your lack of admission, hurt that you had felt like this for so long, dealt with this for so long on your own, and he didn’t even know.

All he ever hoped and wanted was for you to be happy, and if he could be the source of that he would ask for nothing more in life. So to hear about you struggling with this, that you felt like you had to keep it to yourself, was heartbreaking.

Spencer remains in his head a little too long as he’s broken out of it by your small voice, “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

He sighs and moves to sit next to you, making sure he stays above the blanket for your comfort. His back is against the headboard of the bed, and he raises his arm a little, gesturing for you to fill the you shaped crevice. You hesitantly move into the space, hating how you feel every move you’re making is calculated, but all of that goes away the second your head meets his chest and his hand comes up to comb through your hair, the other smoothing your arm down, and all you’re left with is him.

“I promise I’m not mad,” he whispers softly, “Just wish you told me. I would have helped you.” He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could. Could implies he has a choice, a want to do or not do something. I could have helped you, or I could have not helped you. Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need. I would have helped you because it is the only thing I know to be certifiably true, that you deserve to be cared for.

“It sounds stupid out loud but I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same if you saw me like…that. It seemed logical for me to remove that option altogether.”

His heart aches painfully, and he wishes he could take everyone who’s made you feel that way to target practice. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I would spend every day of my life proving that to you.” he utters with unequivocal resolve.

You sigh out shakily, “You’re too kind to me.”

“I’m always kind to you. You deserve kindness. You deserve a lot of things actually…” he trails off.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Well, did you um—” he trails. You look at him quizzically, he continues, “Like before I came in did you…finish?”

Oh. “Oh. I…I don’t think I did, actually. It’s okay though, no big deal.”

He stares at you intently, “Do you want to?”

Your eyes widen, “Spence oh, no it’s okay really you don’t have to do that.

“You’re encouraged to say no if you feel even an ounce of doubt, but I’m offering because I love you and I want to show you that you can feel safe with me, even when you feel otherwise.”

The familiar sting returns to your eyes as the tears pool up. You’re not used to anyone putting this much effort and concern for your comfort, it’s a novel feeling but if Spencer is willing to handle you with as much care as he is, you’re ready to welcome that sentiment in with open arms.

“Yeah, yes.” you waver.

He grins and leans down, gingerly pressing his lips to yours. His hand ghosts from your calf to your knee, testing the water before moving more intent. An unwelcome yet familiar onset slowly rises, trying to break through to you, “Wait—“

He retracts his hand immediately, “You okay? We can stop if you need to.”

You shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I just need a second.” you breath out, trying to self regulate.

He pulls back his hand but you stop him, “No keep it there, it helps. I just…” You don’t know how to phrase it. You think it’s because you’re not in control. When you’re alone it’s only you at the helm calling the shots. But when it really comes down to it, the lack of control is nothing compared to the lack of predictability that comes with the former. Explaining that out loud was daunting to even think about.

Yet Spencer understands what you need, because he always knows what you need. His hand returns to your knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “You tell me to stop whenever you need to.”

He continues kissing you while smoothing his hand up your leg, making wide and sweeping motions across the plush of your thigh so you can feel where he is and where his hand is going. The gesture is comforting and makes you feel grounded, but your head is in a dreamy haze at how good Spencer’s hands feel on you.

The haze leaves through your lips as Spencer feels you sigh against him, feeling you relax more and more as the seconds go by. His hand reaches your upper thigh, fingers ghosting on the inside. “Is this okay?”

You nod, feeling your nerves idling like a distant wave in the ocean. But Spencer’s presence is a lighthouse shining through the fog and guiding you to his shores while the calm washes over you.

His fingers lightly trace the fabric of your panties, ones that you had slid back up your hips upon his entrance into the room. The motion causes you to jump and he pulls back to gauge your reaction. When he sees no fear in your eyes, more so stunned by your wide eyed gaze, his fingers move with more precision, adding more pressure to your clothed core.

A gentle gasp leaves you as he strokes up and down your slit. You’ve given up on continuing to kiss him, the feeling of his hands being too overwhelming to have both sensations at the same time. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your body involuntarily curving towards him as he draws symbols on you with his index. Your breathing gets heavier and faster the longer he goes, and soon small moans begin to escape you.

He drags his finger to the top of your panties and toys with the band, faintly asking, “You still with me, sweet girl?” You preen into the crevice of his neck as he keeps talking, “Want me to keep going?”

He feels you nodding into him as you breathlessly whisper, “Please.”

His finger dips below the fabric and travels down to your entrance, gathering the slickness and spreading it all over you. “Fuck,” he curses softly, “Look how wet you are, baby.”

You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him. He circles back up to your clit, paying special attention to the bundle of nerves before sliding back your slit and repeating the whole sequence a few more times.

Your moans are coming out at a steady pace, and he’s been prodding around your entrance for some time now, teasing and edging you closer. “Gonna put a finger in now, okay? Doing so good for me, baby.” he murmurs.

The feeling of his finger entering you is satiating. But it’s not enough, and you need more. “Spence,” you manage to get out, “Can take another one, please.” His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.

The familar coil builds in your gut, but at an intensity you’ve never felt before. His fingers move in and out of you urgently, his thumb returning to your clit. He’s a man determined to get you there, and your moans and cries of his name only spur him on further. After a few minutes your moans and cries turn into whines and babbles, and he knows you’re close.

His head leans down to croon in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, sweet girl. You can come, ‘m right here.”

It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come harder than you ever have on your own, the waves of your climax overtaking you completely. Spencer continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm, talking you the whole way down. Mutters of praises and kisses flow through your subconscious as the euphoria high takes its peak and you come back down to this realm.

His hand smoothes your hair back as you continue to pant against his chest, words unable to find you.

“You okay?”

You finally catch your breath, “That was—fuck—the most insane orgasm I have ever had.”

Spencer beams at this. For one, his obvious and impressive skills that have stunned you into oblivion. And two, because you look so relaxed. The stark difference of your anxiety filled face from when he first came into the room to the blissed out daze you have right now makes his heart swell five sizes up.

He hugs you closer and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, angel. Thank you for trusting me.”

Sleep is fighting you hard as you laugh airily and tuck yourself under his arm again, “I don’t know why I thought that would be scarier.”

He sighs, his smile faltering but still fond, “Past experiences and self perception complicate the anxiety around sex and intimacy. It’s a natural response based on your lived experiences.”

“Oh.” you mutter, slight deject in your tone.

“But we can work on it, if you want.” he adds, “It’s all up to you with what you’re comfortable with and how you want to do it. If you’ll allow me, I’d love to help you in any way I can, angel.”

You really don’t know how you got so lucky. Someone so kind, and patient, and willing to be with you as you navigate these things you normally would have kept to yourself. You feel grateful to be able to bare a piece of yourself to him, and know that he would receive it with open arms, wrapping it up and handling it with as much care as he can bear.

You cuddle closer, and mumble before your eyes succumb to sleep, “Love you. So much.”

Spencer looks down maybe two seconds later and you’re already out like a light. He chuckles softly to himself and whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl. Good night.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

1K notes · View notes