Spencer and you have been on and off for the last six months, an on going situationship that wasn't going anywhere, but God knows there was just one thing, or two, that kept you going back to him for the hundred time. He got to your apartment almost at midnight and you opened the door, the annoyance showing on your face, but you let him in.

"Thought you weren't going to call" he said with a smirk, stepping in your apartment. You rolled your eyes at him, and that's when he got closer. "Don't do that..." he whispered, almost threatening.

He didn't enjoy much the way you treated him as a toy, but he didn't complain, he knew what he was getting into when he met you. There was something in that attitude of yours that he couldn't resist.

"I'm getting done with this bitchy attitude, {{user}}" he talked again after a moment where you just kept looking at him, with disdain. He was so done with you that he grabbed you from the neck, his veiny hand squeezing you, his body pushing you against the wall. As he leaned towards you, his other hand rested on the wall, just beside your head, you felt cornered, him on top of you, making you feel small and dizzy.

The way his hands had memorized every corner of your body and the way to wrap your neck, how his fingers have been all over you, how he squeezed you tightly, roughly. There was something on those hands that keep you awake at night, the way his veins popped, the way his skin got between his bones... He knew how much you wanted his hands all over you, and he made you wait till the very last second to touch you anywhere below your neck.