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#and even though they'd be okay in the end

pomefioredove · 2 days

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So idk if I'm requesting in the right place. But I would love a twst scenario with a yuu that just says all their intrusive thoughts. Like just out of NOWHERE, as they reach for a water bottle hanging out with the first years they go.

“I robbed a house back home”

Or when Azul tries cornering them with the twins for something they just blankly turn to Floyd going.

“duck off you look like you can't steer a shopping cart”

But feel free to do it with whoever you want and if you don't want to do mine that's perfectly fine and I hope you have a great day :)

certainly!!

summary: reader who speaks all their impulsive thoughts type of post: headcanons characters: heartslabyul, octavinelle, scarabia, diasomnia additional info: platonic or romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral author's note: for some reason I had the hardest time thinking up new nonsense, so many of these dialogue lines are from lewis carroll poems, which I have a wonderful nostalgia for. check those out as well!

Ace and Deuce are pretty much used to you saying whatever's at the top of your mind... with no filter

so used to it that it barely even registers with them anymore

whenever it's quiet, they can expect you to come out with some incomprehensible nonsense.

if you didn't, they'd probably ask what's wrong

"I robbed a house back home,"

"Yeah, okay,"

Riddle, on the other hand, gets frustrated alarmingly fast

despite running an entire dorm based on nonsensical rules, he has a low tolerance for outside nonsense

and... well, despite his name, he's not really a fan of riddles

Trey matches your energy immediately

no joke. he doesn't even bat an eye

"I eat plastic,"

"hm. sometimes I eat muffin wrappers,"

honestly, sometimes his tangents get even weirder than yours

Cater probably wasn't listening very closely when you first started going off, or maybe he's just become accustomed to riddles, though the next time you say something he just thinks it's cute

might use your "thoughtful anecdotes" as a caption for his next post

would it be surprising if I were to say Azul is used to randomness?

Floyd has a tendency to say the strangest things out of nowhere, after all, and the sea itself can be a surprising place

he does not, however, appreciate how you keep speaking in tongues when he's trying to have serious business conversations with you

(seriously, how hard can it be to swindle one person?!)

"Please, just talk normally,"

"But the mome raths outgrabe!"

he doesn't know what that means, but it sounds like an insult

...and then will refuse to converse with you again until you're in a "better mood" (in his own words)

Jade, on the other hand, finds you quite fascinating

he keeps a little notepad on him just to jot down the things you say. why? you can't imagine. he just finds it interesting, you suppose

"'Twas brilling..."

"Really? How interesting. Go on,"

Floyd isn't really paying much attention

your funny words amuse him at best and annoy him at worse

if you ever find yourself in a bad place with the octotrio, you can just say something like:

"You look like you can't steer a shopping cart,"

and Floyd will take actual offense to that, and just straight up leave

(much to Azul's dismay)

Kalim adds on right away

and keeps going

and keeps going... and keeps going...

"How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail..."

"Oh, I know! He pours waters on every shining scale,"

at one point Jamil has to pull you aside and beg you not to encourage him

"No promises!" is your answer

Kalim even buys a parrot to add onto the fun

it becomes a three-person (or two-person-and-a-bird?) act

...even if you're not really doing it on purpose

Jamil is who ends up taking care of the parrot while it squawks your old nonsense thoughts, though

he likes the parrot much better than either of you

Malleus will entertain you based on his own curiosity

none of his other human classmates speak in such odd and puzzling words, so he knows it's a "you" thing

might try to solve them if they sound like riddles

but he mostly just thinks they're cute

"O, oysters, come and walk with us,"

"How interesting... I do wonder where you come up with all this,"

Sebek will listen to you because Malleus does, and Silver has enough nonsense to deal with as it is. will definitely fall asleep while you're talking to him

Lilia responds in like terms

meow at him? he'll meow back

in fact, he'll meow at you every time he sees you until you say something else to capture his curiosity

might go ahead and start speaking to you in tongues before you even say anything

he just thinks you're neat!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #kinda...#malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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its-avalon-08 · 3 days

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hi okay so since we have very little mark webber content im doing everyone a favour so like similar to the fernando one but this time y/n watched mark's flying 2010 crash and even though he's completely fine y/n is MAD (like it happened for the second time). Mark tries joking it off after they get home but she gives him the silent treatment+ doesnt let him kiss/touch her. then when she finally gives in she's angry and cries while mark consoles her?

please don't leave (mw6)

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i had so much fun writing this one thank you so much for this request ! i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

y/n practically clawed at the armrest as the grainy helicopter footage on the tv flickered. it couldn't be. not again. the unmistakable red of mark's car was wedged against a barrier, smoke billowing skyward. her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. "mark..." the word escaped her lips in a strangled whisper.

the newscaster droned on, thankfully confirming mark was unharmed. relief flooded y/n, momentarily pushing the anger aside. but as the adrenaline subsided, the fury simmered back. this was the second time she'd endured this terror in the three years they'd been together.

the apartment door creaked open, and mark limped in, a grimace on his face. even with the obvious pain, his smile was sheepish. "hey there, drama queen. looks like i caused a bit of a stir, eh?"

y/n remained glued to the couch, arms crossed. the silence in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. mark's smile faltered, replaced by a worried frown. he shuffled closer, a hand reaching out tentatively.

"y/n, come on," he coaxed, "it's alright. just a bit shaken, that's all."

his hand hovered in the air, inches from her shoulder. y/n flinched away, the movement sharp and cold. the hurt flickered in mark's eyes, but he persisted.

the air in the apartment hung heavy with unspoken emotions. mark hovered near y/n, his own leg throbbing from the crash, but the physical pain paled in comparison to the emotional turmoil brewing across the room. he yearned to hold her, to feel her warmth and offer some form of comfort.

"so," mark started, his voice breaking the suffocating silence, "at least this time i didn't manage to take out any cameramen. silver linings, right?"

he forced a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. but as he reached out, y/n visibly stiffened. her back straightened, and her arms, which had been limp at her side, clenched into fists.

mark's smile faltered, replaced by a dawning realization. this wasn't the time for jokes. he saw it in the way her shoulders started to tremble, a silent tremor that spoke volumes.

"y/n," he began, concern lacing his voice.

but before he could continue, a dam broke within her. tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as she whirled around to face him.

"silver linings?" she choked out, her voice thick with anger and barely contained fear. "mark, how can you even say that? don't you get it? every time you get behind the wheel of that car, my heart stops! i watch those races, glued to the screen, praying that the red and white doesn't end up tangled in a mess of metal, praying that i don't hear your name followed by the words 'critical condition.' this isn't some game, mark! these aren't just crashes, these are near-death experiences!"

her voice hitched, raw emotion pouring out. "and you have the audacity to joke about it? to try and find some humor in the fact that you almost died again? do you even consider what it does to me? the sleepless nights, the constant worry gnawing at my insides? i can't take it anymore, mark! i can't live like this, constantly on the edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop!"

y/n's rant hung in the air, heavy and accusatory. mark stood speechless, his heart sinking with every word. all the flippant remarks he'd planned evaporated. here, laid bare, was the true cost of his passion, the unseen burden he placed on the woman he loved.

shame washed over him. he hadn't truly understood her fear, the depth of her worry. now, seeing it raw and unfiltered, he felt like a monster.

"y/n," he finally managed, his voice hoarse with regret, "i... i'm so sorry. i had no idea. i was trying to be lighthearted, but you're right. it's not a joke. i was a fool. please, forgive me. i promise it won't happen next time."

"it's not enough, mark!" she shot back, tears welling up in her eyes. "what if next time... what if there isn't a next time?"

the room went silent again, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. after a long moment, mark sat on the coffee table beside her, a dejected sigh escaping his lips. he didn't try to touch her again, respecting the space she needed.

minutes bled into hours. finally, y/n's tense shoulders slumped slightly. with a shaky breath, she turned towards mark. he met her gaze, his eyes filled with concern.

"i just..." she began, her voice thick with emotion, "i can't lose you, mark. not like this."

large tears streamed down her face as she spoke, her voice cracking. mark was by her side in an instant, pulling her into a tight embrace. he held her as she sobbed, whispering comforting words into her hair.

the fear, the anger, all of it spilled out in that moment. when her cries subsided into hiccups, mark gently wiped away her tears.

y/n's words hung heavy in the air, each one a hammer blow to mark's heart. shame burned in his gut, hotter than any engine fire he'd ever faced. he hadn't just been selfish, he'd been blind. blinded by the adrenaline rush, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of the race. he hadn't seen the terror in her eyes, the worry etched into her every expression.

"y/n," he started, his voice thick with remorse, "i... i don't even know where to begin. you're right. it's not a joke. it's never a joke. every time i climb into that car, a part of me knows the risk. but the truth is, i never stopped to think about what it did to you. i was so focused on myself, on the competition, on the win, that i completely ignored the cost it had on you."

he took a shaky breath, pulling her closer, "those sleepless nights, that constant worry… you shouldn't have to carry that burden alone. you shouldn't have to live in fear because of my passion. it's not fair. it's not fair to you, and frankly, it makes me question my own damn priorities."

mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration lacing his voice. "this racing… it's been my life for so long. it's given me purpose, pushed me to my limits, made me feel alive. but if it comes at the cost of losing you, then what's the point? what good is a trophy if the person i love the most is shattered every time i race?"

he looked at her, his eyes pleading for understanding. "i can't promise you i'll quit. it's in my blood, this need for speed. but i can promise you this: i'll never take it for granted again. i'll never forget the fear in your eyes. every race, every decision, every corner i take, you'll be there, a constant reminder of what truly matters. and if, at any point, you can't handle it anymore, if the fear becomes too much… i'll walk away. no questions asked. because you, y/n, you're my everything."

silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of his words. but this time, it wasn't a suffocating quiet. it was a space filled with the dawning of a new understanding, a fragile hope for a future where his passion wouldn't overshadow the love of his life.

the silence stretched on, a hesitant dance between hope and uncertainty. then, slowly, tentatively, y/n reached out. her hand brushed against mark's, sending a jolt of electricity through him. he laced his fingers with hers, the warmth a stark contrast to the storm that had just passed.

"i..." she began, her voice barely a whisper. "i don't want you to quit." her eyes, though still glistening with unshed tears, held a new resolve. "but i need you to be safe. to understand how much you mean to me."

mark's heart swelled in his chest. "i do, y/n. more than you know." he pulled her gently towards him, offering a quiet, "can i kiss you now?"

y/n melted into his embrace, lips meeting. he held her tightly, the unspoken promise hanging heavy in the air. they would face this together, fear and passion intertwined. but for now, all that mattered was the quiet comfort of each other's arms.

after a long while, y/n pulled back slightly, a small smile gracing her lips. "just promise me," she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

"anything," he whispered back, nuzzling his nose against hers.

"no more 'silver linings' jokes after a crash," she declared, a playful glint in her eyes.

mark chuckled, a genuine laugh that warmed the room. "deal. but maybe a celebratory ice cream after a win?"

y/n snorted. "we can negotiate."

and with that, they settled back into their embrace, a newfound understanding blossoming between them. the future was uncertain, the track still held dangers, but as long as they had each other, they could face anything. as mark drifted off to sleep, y/n snuggled closer, her soft breaths a lullaby against his ear.

#formula 1 #mark webber #mw6 #mark webber x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber x y/n #sebastian vettel #f1 imagine #red bull racing #formula one #y/n #crash #angst #romance #requests #ava speaks #redbull

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noddytheornithopod · 14 hours

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Some more in-depth Tales of the Empire thoughts/questions

This is really nerdy and nitpicky of me to ask, but... what is Barriss' Inquisitor name? I can't help but wanna know. Then again, we don't know Marrok's name either, and also what the fuck up is with bird man (who until confirmed otherwise I'm treating as the the Sixth Brother being an edgelord dressing as a plague doctor, I will insist the only reason they aren't calling him Sixth Brother is because then the Lucasfilm Story Group would have to admit Tales of the Jedi overwrote published material in significant ways, and then they'd get more angry nerds than they already have to deal with, lol).

I do kind of wish we leaned a bit more into Barriss' established relationships a bit, Luminara Unduli is indirectly mentioned in the last short, and Barriss mentions having a "old friend" who would know more about the Imperials hunting after kids which I HAVE to imagine is Ahsoka... but we don't really explore these. Like, if she DID reconnect with Ahsoka, I kind of wish we got to see that? I do understand why Luminara didn't appear, with Barriss' characterisation I don't think she could've gone through with killing her if they had a test, but still. I don't know if we needed to see her react to her death, but part of me is curious about that anyway. I will say she seemed to sense something when Vader entered the room, though. Did she sense a familiar presence there? Also surprised they didn't even throw in a small nod to how the Grand Inquisitor became what he was because he heard Barriss' speech and that suddenly validated everything he thought already (if you follow the comics anyway). Not even a simple "pleased to see you as a candidate after your rousing speech" line (which was given to... see below). I wouldn't have called this necessary for the story itself, but I always found it annoying that we have to go off on so much of GI's backstory based on paratext instead of actual stories. Also, still don't know his original name even after a decade, RIP.

On a similar note, I'm not really sure how I feel about Lyn Rakish? Specifically, how her relationship was the central one to Barriss' here. I'm not opposed to Barriss knowing more people, it even helps make these characters' lives feel bigger, but I do kind of feel like there's stuff here that would be nice to know. Like, even when Lyn enters her cell, Barriss recognises her, and they way they interact throughout the shorts implies some kind of connection. Especially since...

...her stabbing Barriss was what made her snap out of being an Inquisitor. Okay, I'm not really sure how to feel about this. I love where Barriss ends up, but also... I'm not really sure how I feel about dying? If she's even dead? The scene was clearly mirroring the second short, where Barriss wanted to save that other Jedi, and nothing suggested that she never got to save her (I mean, she's known as "the healer" next short for crying out loud, also hey nice Legends callback), so even if Barriss looks far more dead, there is that part of me still in denial, lol. But thing is, it's kinda like they went "this is actually about Lyn, not Barriss". Sure, Barriss reclaimed her old self and her development was arguably "complete" in that sense, but that doesn't always have to mean death? Meanwhile, we only really get to know Lyn through these shorts, and while I'm very pro-villain redemption, I'm not sure if doing this through three shorts was enough to do it justice. So I'm kinda feeling like being asked to feel for a character finally returning to the light because she maybe killed her sorta protege while barely knowing anything about their actual relationship on a personal level is kinda eh.

That's something I felt in general. Maybe I'm just greedy, but I really wanted MORE of Barriss' story. Like, at least make it clear why Lyn is someone important in her life besides giving her a literal get out of jail card.

With Fortress Inquisitorius, I do think it's interesting they show it being built, but also not really alluding to how the headquarters is apparently on Coruscant, especially with Vader's throne and all. I don't think there's any real contradictions though, the Inquisitorius probably had several bases (I wonder if Stygeon Prime in Rebels was another?), and the main one just became Fortress Inquisitorius when Vader was given reign over the Mustafar System and therefore Nur, where FI is located.

Barriss' line about how she felt like she was lied to and deceived is actually pretty clever, because its placement is almost like an admission she was wrong. She's still clinging to the Inquisitorius by justifying it as "the Jedi failed because of their hubris, they deserved it, we're here to bring peace and order" but her heart was clearly never in it. Despite feeling like the Jedi betrayed their principles, she actually still followed them. In a way, I think it even kind of recontextualises the Temple Bombing, because it feels more like Barriss being panicked and desperate, basically having a breakdown. She did go to the Dark Side, but with the kind of person she is, those emotions aren't natural to her. We see she can certainly still go there, that other former Jedi basically saying "screw you, all for me" certainly evoked betrayal which would evoke those dark emotions, and of course she goes along with the Inquisitorius basically to survive, aka out of fear, and as mentioned justifying it to herself by saying this is justice for how the Jedi "fell" even if she's clearly hypocritical in that regard. We then see in the final short she's reconciled her past with the Jedi, talking fondly of her time as one, and regretting her turning to the Dark Side.

Huh, just noticed the Jedi is referred to with they/them pronouns.

Now for the other stuff

I don't have as much to say about Morgan, but I will say that Bo-Katan receiving the distress call kinda cleared up a contrivance in The Mandalorian for me. I was like "okay sure, even IF Bo-Katan still was in contact with Ahsoka, how would she know exactly where she is at this moment? what if she went off somewhere else?" But then this episode makes it clear Bo received the call, and thus would've figured out what was going on, and then actually tell Ahsoka to go to Corvus.

I hope the Eli Vanto fans are okay, especially since Pellaeon was shown as Thrawn's number 2 in the short. What I will say is - this was just a glimpse of one mission, this isn't retconning Eli out of existence. Thrawn and Eli wouldn't have been together on every single mission.

Morgan was the original person to pitch the TIE Defender? Huh, that is certainly a very random piece of lore. Also, surprised there's still Venator Star Destroyers instead of all Imperial Is at this point.

When Thrawn asks her the real reason she wants the Empire's favour and admits it's revenge, he accepts. He also shows interest in the Nightsisters even here. I do wonder if what made him receptive was he could kind of empathise on some level, if the threat of the Grysk made him open to Morgan's desire to avenge her sisters.

Mountain Clan appears in visual media, cool. Now people know there's even more witches on Dathomir. With the new lore about the Nightsisters, I do wonder if the other clans also have extragalactic origins in Peridea, or if they developed independently and it's specifically the Nightsister sect that was from there. Either way, it seems like the Nightsisters were the biggest and most powerful, apparently Talzin even united many witch clans. Also, I wonder if Morgan and her mother were originally from another clan but moved to the Nightsisters? Because obviously they look pretty different from the standard Nightsisters. Also was interesting to see the architecture resemble what we see in Jedi: Fallen Order, so that was cool.

Also thought it was a cool touch that the Separatists weren't done killing everyone on Dathomir. We only see the initial battle in one location in Massacre from The Clone Wars, but it does help make the genocide feel bigger, even showing that even other non-Nightsister clans weren't entirely safe. IDK if this makes the droid gunships appear earlier than implied to be their creation in TCW Season 5 (then again, chronologically the Dathomir and Onderon arcs are back to back), but also Grievous didn't have a cape in massacre, which is the REAL crime of this short. Hashtag remove his cape!!!!!!!!!!

#star wars #tales of the empire #sw spoilers #tote spoilers #barriss offee #lyn rakish #fourth sister #morgan elsbeth #thrawn #mitthrawnuruodo #nightsisters #dathomir #peridea #ahsoka tano #luminara unduli #grand inquisitor #inquisitorius

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sweetmage · 15 hours

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happy dadwc friday! for pairing/character of your choice: "you look familiar"

Hi!! Thank you so much for the prompt! :) @dadrunkwriting (It's a bit late but hopefully that's okay!) This one takes place in an AU in which Garrett was not present for the Chantry explosion. By the time he got there, Marian (his twin) had told Anders to flee for safety. Garrett never saw him again after that. Pairing: M!Hawke/Anders Words: 1.4k+ Tags: Longing, Reunions, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Supportive Hawke Summary: Hawke had not seen Anders since uprising three years ago. No fanfare, no goodbyes, he was just gone. He never stopped looking for him even when it seemed hopeless. But this time, all hope wasn't lost...

From the corner of his eye, Hawke caught the glint of setting sunlight upon gold strands before a hood quickly obscured them. There were many mages milling about in the streets of Redcliffe, but for whatever reason, the cloaked figure stuck out. He didn't catch their face, but something in their gait and swift steps made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with recognition. It was almost like he could hear the gentle whispers, feel the warm brush of breath upon his skin, fragments from a time long past.

No... How many times had he let himself hope? There were plenty of blonde individuals in Thedas and they were never him. He was chasing ghosts and shadows. For the sake of his heart and sanity he needed to be done with it, yet he was on his feet and after them before his mind could even register.

By the time he'd stepped on to the path they'd taken, he was all but certain that his eyes had deceived him. The cloaked figure had already vanished among the crowd. Hawke was left looking in vain, trying not to feel foolish as he scanned the streets for some sign.

He followed the pathways anyway, as though if he kept walking the answers would be right around the corner. It had been years since he'd last laid eyes upon Anders, sent off by his sister before he'd even gotten a say in the matter. Since then he'd been searching, hoping, looking to the ends of the world to find some sign of him or for news of his demise, should the worst have to come to pass. Anything. Yet all he found were cruel tricks of the mind and false leads. This seemed to be another such instance, he thought as he neared the town's outskirts and the sun slipped further beneath the horizon.

He hadn't meant to wander so far or for so long. Perhaps he simply wished to convince himself it was a casual stroll, not another foolish venture chasing the heels of someone long gone.

He stopped and stared beyond the city's gate, letting the evening chill bring him back to reality. His time and effort would be better spent aiding the refugees. Alive or otherwise, he knew Anders would rather him use his skills to help the mages in need rather than scour Thedas on a hopeless quest.

Weary and resigned, he turned back to the path from whence he came. His steps were slower, his shoulders bowed. Anders might have liked it here. It was not perfect, but it was certainly no Kirkwall or slaughtering grounds for templars. If they had come here together, Hawke might have suggested they settle for as long as they were allowed. Anders could have done for some rest, and Hawke had missed their quiet moments, their domesticity. But that was not to be.

He was almost back to his tent when something caught his ear from somewhere just behind. Something faint, familiar, and impossible. A name. His name.

It could have been wind or his wishful thinking, perhaps a mind so weary that it was conjuring sounds from thin air. But he paused, listened. Waited.

Something clinked in the alleyway, a bottle toppling and rolling slowly out into the street as though kicked. He turned and peered down the alley with his heart lodged in his throat. It was too dark to see much, but he could make out the figure pressed tight against the wall. Something in him said to turn and walk away lest he fall victim to mugging, but his feet only brought him forward into the alley.

The figure pushed from the wall and moved closer, head still lowered and veiled beneath the fabric, but they spoke low and swift before he could question.

"There is nothing I can say that would make it right," he spoke beneath the hood like honey and knife at once, so achingly familiar it sent shivers racing across Hawke's skin.

"Anders?" It was barely a whisper. His eyes burned and his hands trembled, fearing the illusion would vanish as soon as he'd touched it. He reached out anyway, desperate, yearning, but was denied, Anders flinching away

He thrust a hand out to stop him, his pale fingers all bone like there was nothing left of him. "Don't. Please. It will only make this harder for both of us." He drew a deep, shaky breath and Hawke could have sworn his hand wavered, as though aching to reach out too. "I didn't come for you, I came to help the mages." There was a pause, heavy with words unspoken. "If I'd known, I never would have come. I know you must hate me... I can't say I'd blame you. But I'm not here to ask for your forgiveness, I just--"

He cut himself off with a gasp as Hawke ignored the distance he'd put between them, crushing him in his arms. The hood fell back, revealing his gaunt, weary face and the tears that threatened his lashes.

"It's you," he choked, his voice breaking, "It's you." He held him tighter, as though to keep him from running. "It's really you, thank the Maker. Thank the Maker. I thought you... Marian told me you wanted her to... I couldn't bear it. I thought you died." Tears welled and fell against his will but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Why did you run? Why did you leave? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I searched everywhere, you bastard. Everywhere. Do you ever know what I've been through?"

As soon as the words left his lips, he was already pulling back to look him over, taking in his thinness and the deep, dark circles under his eyes. He'd never seen him so unwell, so exhausted and worn. Maker only knew where he'd been the past years. "What have *you* been through?"

"I... I don't..." Anders stumbled over his words, a look of pure shock upon his tear-stained face. "I had to leave. It wasn't fair to drag you into that, not after everything. And I thought I'd..." It was as though he'd expected Hawke would spit and curse him. Like he hadn't thought he'd get this far.

"How could you think leaving was what I wanted? You weren't even going to say goodbye?" Hawke demanded, taking his face into his hands. "When did I ever give you the impression I wasn't invested? That I didn't love you? Anders, I'd have gone anywhere for you. Done anything for you. You should have let me decide for myself."

"And bring you harm? Risk your life? After all the sacrifices you'd already made?" Anders's voice shook, his bottom lip trembling. "I was only a danger to you. I thought... I thought you'd be better without me. Safer."

"Anders, nothing in the world was safer without you by my side. I could have lost you that night for all I bloody knew and I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye or tell you how much you meant to me. There's nowhere safe for a mage. If I have to run, hide, and fight, I'd much rather do it with you. I love you, you stubborn fool. I always have." Hawke pressed his forehead to Anders's, his tears falling freely now. "Don't you even think of leaving me again."

His thin shoulders shook beneath his cloak and he covered his mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. Hawke pulled him close once more, holding him tight to his chest. "I'm sorry," Anders wept. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he said, softer this time as he ran a hand through Anders's hair. "But if I can't stop you and you're still sorry then stay here and we'll call it even. You look like a stiff breeze could blow you over. Maker's breath, when was the last time you ate? Slept?"

"I was busy," Anders mumbled. "There was work to be done."

"Work you didn't have to do alone. Let me take care of you. Please." Hawke leaned back and cupped his face again and brushed away his tears with his thumbs. "Come back to my tent. No funny business, I promise. Just food and sleep."

Anders hesitated, but finally nodded. "Alright," he agreed in a small voice. "Only because I know you won't take no for an answer."

"Damn right I won't," Hawke said, leading him the alley and back towards the refugee encampment. "You'll eat, I'll brush your hair, and then you'll sleep while I hold you."

"Bossy." Anders's arm slipped shyly around his waist and Hawke's heart swelled. "Is it alright... am I allowed to say I still love you? That I never stopped?"

"Only if you mean it," Hawke replied, pausing to turn and look him in the eyes. "If this is some sort of goodbye, I swear--"

"Not if you don't want it to be," Anders interrupted, his tone and expression earnest. "I want to stay. With you, if you'll have me"

"C'mon," he said in lieu of response, steering him toward the tents. "Let's get some food in you and a pillow beneath your pretty head."

#hawke #anders #handers #dragon age 2

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has-brain-rot · 1 year

Text

I finally began watching voltron

OKAY SO at the recommendation of a super cool person (@imperfection-you-will-find (sorry if you don’t want to be tagged) ) I got into watching Voltron: Legendary Defenders and I just finished the first season AND IT IS A REALLY COOL SHOW. I know I’m like 5 years late to the party but the animation! Characters! World building! All very interesting!! Love how smoothly they blend those 3D models into the show, it’s barely noticeable

Here’s a few thoughts (before I go binge the next season)

- first off it is BOLD that the first episode is an hour+ long. like damn they didn’t have to do that but they did and the pacing is surprisingly good for what they had to do, though I lowkey wish there was more adventuring-to-find-the-rest-of-the-lions because that part was pretty interesting, especially when they talked about having to form a bond with the lions first

- Hunk is a cool guy and I really like how he develops and ends up being one of the more serious characters (when, unfortunately, he isn’t the but of the joke. He’s neat but they make fun of his weight a fair bit and that’s not fun). Love how he has a good sus-detector, also he was SLAYING when he saved people during the season 1 finale

- Pidge is REALLY COOL and I personally (so far at least) headcanon them as enby. they also give off transman vibes and honestly that’s what I thought they were going to do with the character until the reveal. It’s cool how they handled it, and I love that the show didn’t go for an all-boy cast because that’d be disappointing.

- Lance is kinda annoying but he’s growing on me. I’m not the biggest fan but I like how he’s developing. Blue colour scheme is cool, but damn he really put everyone and an entire planet in danger just because he crushed briefly on a girl. Shame.

- Shiro is COOL. We don’t know much about him and the portrayal of his trauma is a really good thing to add. I do find it mildly funny (in a dark way? funny might not be the right word) that like. Lance and Hunk are there because vibes, Pidge is there for vibes but also they were on a mission of their own, Keith right now is very mysterious and gives off many vibes, but Shiro’s backstory is that he was tortured for a year, forced to fight, there’s the implication that his body was forcefully modified as he was trained to be a weapon, and also he’s probably killed quite a few people and he’s trying to deal with that and everything while like, they’re vibing

- Keith is COOL. Red lion swag. Love his somewhat morally ambiguous vibes, also I feel like he’s going to be a big projection character. They haven’t really covered his background other than he dropped out, but I bet there’s a lot more going on. I can DEFINITELY see he is liked. ALSO I feel like the whole “you fight like a Galra soldier” is more than just a one off line. I sense it. Plus the whole “you have to earn the trust of the red lion, you can’t just befriend it right away” gives off big flags of “HEY PAY ATTENTION”. I could write so much about this but I wanna go binge the second season xD

- THE CLIFFHANGER OF A FINAL EPISODE. There is so much I could talk about (the character development, the battle scenes, everything is so cool. It’s like seeing all the things I wish we could’ve seen in steven universe and also I think belos would be proud of the general genocide even if it isn’t religion based). I’ll keep it short and just say that DAMN SO MUCH HAPPENS AND IT IS VERY COOL

I’m going in spoiler free and it’s quite fun! Thanks for the recommendation @imperfection-you-will-find, can’t wait to watch more so I can fully appreciate your super cool edits and posts xD

#overweight characters exist for comedy first #and aren't taken seriously #voltron #vld #vld ramble #voltron legendary defender #IT IS INTERESTING AND DAMN THE ANIMATION IS SO COOL #Honestly Voltron could just have a lion head but like. even if it isn't the most logical a giant mech made of lions is such a BANGER concept #I am vibing very much rn #Keith my maybe-to-become-a-blorbo why do you keep getting into situations where you nearly die #like is he okay because I think he is not okay #idk what happens yet because I've never watched it but Loz talked about trauma so I am READY to learn more #This mama is ready for trauma <- ready to watch it at least. give me some of that forbidden backstory #I think the funniest twist would be if Hunk ended up having the most traumatic backstory. Like they'd have to work hard to beat Shiro's #not funny for him 'cause that'd suck but I think that would spin a twist on the whole trope/cultural idea lots of western media has #him being the most serious out of the not-shiro (or keith) group is good though. gives him depth #only reason why I'm talking about hunk so much is because honestly I thought he was going to be left behind or die or get replaced #ANYWAYS BACK TO BINGING #IF ANYONE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT VOLTRON PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND IN AS MANY ASKS AS YOU WANT #INFODUMP AWAY #also just in general send in asks I will be very happy if you do :]

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luveline · 6 months

Note

spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3

im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭

ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k

cw for sexual harassment

"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over.

"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?"

"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh.

"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?"

"Top of your thigh."

"Shit, really? Can you see my–"

"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs.

"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently.

"Do you want my jacket?"

"Don't cover it up, toots."

You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks.

"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction.

"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one.

Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse."

"We were just messing around," one says.

"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy."

"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."

His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down.

"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine."

Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?" His voice fries.

"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants."

Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–"

"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad."

"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you."

"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk.

"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here."

"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures."

"You shouldn't have to."

"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome."

"Right now?" he asks dryly.

"Are you handsome right now?"

"Are you really flirting with me right now?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning."

"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know.

You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?"

He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you."

"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?"

His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup."

"Just a small token," you say.

He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want."

"You sure?"

He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper.

He pulls you closer.

You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone.

"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today."

He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it."

"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so."

"Hotch is pretty pissed at us."

"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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awearywritersworld · 7 months

Text

"took you long enough"

gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist

gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.

"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.

"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."

it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.

he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."

"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"

"boyfriend?"

"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"

your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."

"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."

he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."

"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"

"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.

you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."

after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.

he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.

when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.

wait, what?

your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"

"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.

"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."

gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—

"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."

nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.

the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.

everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.

shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'

shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'

shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'

nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."

shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.

"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"

nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.

you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—

"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"

"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.

and it is, just not to you.

shinya chuckles. "gojo."

"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."

"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"

turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.

"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.

"whatever you say, baby."

you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.

but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.

when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.

it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.

"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."

"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."

gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.

shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.

"get the fuck away from her!"

gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.

"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"

you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."

the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."

you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.

"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.

you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"

"i don't fucking care," he spits.

he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"

"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.

you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.

"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."

once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"

he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."

"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.

"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."

your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"

you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.

"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."

"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."

"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.

and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.

he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.

he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.

"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.

"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.

"mm, knew you were a good girl."

he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.

"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.

you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."

he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.

you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.

"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.

his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.

you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."

that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.

"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.

his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.

he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—

"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"

your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue

"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."

he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.

splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."

he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."

your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."

he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.

"p-people are gonna see—"

"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."

you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.

"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."

your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."

you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."

your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."

"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"

you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.

"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.

you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."

you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.

your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"

he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.

no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.

you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.

you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.

"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.

"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"

"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."

you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"

"i just didn't know if you... you know.."

"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.

you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."

"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"

you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."

#m!writes!smut #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk smut

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girlgenius1111 · 30 days

Text

floodgates

alexia x reader alexia is struggling post knee surgery and just as she’s about to finally talk to r, r gets hurt, and it’s partially alexia’s fault. cw: injury... nothing else really.

-----

Alexia was stoic. Your girlfriend never let anyone know what she was really thinking. You were the exception, and even then, you still had to pry her feelings out of her.

It had been a long few months. Alexia's injury, the speculation surrounding her renewal, continued issues with the federation. Through it all, Alexia had been stony faced. Even with you, where she was normally more vulnerable, she had remained detached, as if the emotions surrounding these things did not exist.

If there was one thing you knew about Alexia, it was that you couldn't push her. She would come to you, in her own time, when she was ready. It sometimes took longer than you would have liked, but she always came around, in the end.

You could read her well, and you knew when she was inching closer to a breakdown. On the day that you were sure it was going to happen, positive that she would pull you into bed after training and cling to you, not letting go until she felt better, you broke your nose.

Well, more specifically, Alexia broke your nose. It was a complete accident; you'd been visiting her in the gym where she'd been doing her training. The team had finished early, and Alexia still had a few exercises to go, so you were keeping her company.

If it was anyone's fault, it was Mapi's. She was fucking around on the massage table, throwing little pieces of paper across the gym at you, while she got her knee massaged. You knew she hated the process, and even with Ingrid sitting next to her, slyly holding her hand, she needed a distraction, and pissing you off seemed to be it. She launched another little ball at you. You'd been looking down at your phone when the paper hit you in the head, and you glared at the defender, leaning down to pick it up.

Alexia didn't know how close behind her you were, as she finished up talking to the physio. She had her heavy water bottle in her hand and she was swinging it around like she was a toddler that couldn't hold still, yet another hint that she was going to be upset once you both got home.

You'd barely picked up the paper before another one was landing a few inches closer to your girlfriend, ricocheting off your head. Mapi's shout of alarm came a second too late, and you leaned closer to the ball, and to the blonde, just as she switched hands with her water bottle, swinging it directly back into your face.

Your nose made a sickening crunch, and Alexia turned around in horror, dropping her water, and immediately trying to kneel down by where you were leaning over. Her knee protested, though, at the sudden movement, and she yelped in pain, falling back onto her butt. Her face burned with embarrassment as you shook off the physio, blood gushing through your fingers.

"Ale, are you okay?" You asked, the words barely understandable as you spoke through the blood, and through your hands. Your nose was visibly split open, yet your attention was only on Alexia as she got to her feet, taking your face in her hands. She was wracked with guilt, taking the towel someone handed her and replacing your hands with hers.

"Lo siento mucho, mi amor, dios mio." Alexia said roughly. The physios finally sprung into action, gently pushing Ale out of their way, and moving closer to inspect your nose.

"It's okay, baby, it's not your fault." You promised, trying to send her a smile as you were led out of the gym and towards a medical room.

Alexia stood, arms hanging limply at her sides, as she blinked at the door you exited through. She looked like she was malfunctioning, taking a few steps closer to the door before stopping, completely and uncharacteristically unsure of herself. Mapi and Ingrid, forgotten on the massage table, watched their captain act in a way they'd never seen before.

"Ingrid. Go fix her." Mapi said out of the corner of her mouth. Ingrid nodded, walking closer and putting a hand on her captain's arm. Alexia jumped slightly, but drew herself up to her full height. She looked fearsome, glaring around Ingrid at the Norwegian's girlfriend.

"Idiota, María." She hissed, before stalking out of the room and following you down the hall, where, presumably, she would revert back to Soft Alexia.

Ingrid sighed, returning to Mapi's side. "You and your damn paper balls."

"Do you think Ale is going to cut off her nose to give to her girl, or will she take mine?" Mapi wondered

"Yours for sure. Two birds, one stone."

-----

The drive home was completely silent. On your part, because it was hard to talk when you had an ice pack pressed to your face. Alexia was silent because she was rather conflicted; she felt horrible. For breaking your nose, yes. But also, because she was at the end of her patience, the end of her strength. She needed you. You were the only person she trusted to see her upset, but now you were hurt, and it was her fault and she couldn't burden you with this.

You would have noticed this, under normal circumstances, you would have picked on the guilt and anxiety radiating off your girlfriend. Your nose was killing you though, completely broken. It was to be seen whether you’d need surgery or not, depending on how the healing process went. You were concussion free, thank god, but you were being brought home and put on bed rest anyway, thanks to Alexia’s intimidating glare at the physio, who had quickly instructed you how Alexia wanted. So, you were rather distracted, focused instead of getting home, showering, eating something, and crawling into bed.

Alexia helped you out of the car and inside the house as if you were a priceless, fragile object, her hands resting on your back and shoulder so lightly you barely felt them. She made you sit down on the sofa, ignoring your arguments that you could help with dinner and heading into the kitchen. She just made 2 sandwiches, bringing one out to you, beginning to eat in silence. She was practically glued to you, the entire left side of her body pressed against yours. It was at this moment that you realized she had yet to speak a word since walking into the house.

“Ale, are you feeling alright?” You asked, because it was easier to get Alexia to admit weakness when she could play it off to being sick. You could convince her to be honest later, but for now, you needed her to speak, even a word.

“I am okay. Care if I shower first?” She asked, standing up and taking your plate out of your hands.

You honestly did mind, but you nodded easily, not really feeling like denying her anything at this point.

“Can I join you?” You asked, smiling softly at her. Alexia was normally never one to deny herself the chance to shower with you, and this time was no different. The smallest of smiles tugged at her lips, and she nodded eagerly, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the direction of the bathroom.

-------

Alexia tried to hold herself together, she really did. It was a lot harder than it had ever been, though, and every time she caught sight of your swollen face, she felt herself inch closer and closer to a breakdown. Her emotions had been too much, before, but now? Compounded with the guilt she was feeling, they were completely overwhelming.

She made it through most of the shower, and it was only as you rinsed the conditioner from your hair, the last thing you needed to do, that she broke. It was dumb, but seeing you flinch as your hand accidentally brushed over your nose was just too much for her, and very suddenly, there were teardrops sliding down her face that she hoped you would think were just from the shower head.

Alexia bit her lip in an attempt to silence the sob that was ripping it’s way out of her chest, but was not very successful. You opened your eyes, finding Alexia stood in front of you, with a hand covering her face, now silently crying.

“Baby,” you sighed, turning the water off and pulling Alexia through the glass door. You wrapped a fluffy towel around your girlfriend’s shaking shoulders, more than a little concerned with the way she let you guide her out of the shower. “Is it your knee?” You asked, although you were pretty sure it wasn’t. You had to check, though, that had to be your first thought, because it was always Alexia’s first thought.

Alexia shook her head, moving her hand to cup your cheek, exposing her bloodshot eyes. Her lips fell into a sad frown as she looked down at you. “I broke your nose,” she mumbled miserably, her fingers tracing delicately over your swollen face.

“No, Mapi made you break my nose.” You corrected, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work, and Alexia just shook her head, gripping the towel tight around her. She looked so vulnerable, so small, so unlike herself, it was tearing your heart out of your chest.

You pulled on her hand, guiding her into the bedroom and gently pushing her to sit on the edge of the bed, walking away briefly to get her some pajamas to change into. She pulled them on, her eyes still fixed on the ground, now refusing to look at your face. You wondered if it was the fear of the vulnerability of eye contact or the fear of seeing your broken nose that stopped her. Either way, it wouldn’t do.

You tilted her chin up, her wet hazel eyes meeting yours. “You broke my nose, you haven’t played in months, the federation is making your teammates miserable, and you’re exhausted.”

“I am okay,” she whispered, so faintly and so pathetically that you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t lie, love. You’re not okay. You haven’t been for a while. It’s catching up to you, huh?”

“Sí.” Alexia admitted, one of her hands wrapping itself around your leg, holding you in place close to her, as if she was afraid that the very simple confession would make you run.

“You need me, yes?”

“I broke your nose.” Alexia said again, a few tears sliding down her cheeks.

You wiped them away gently. “Alexia.”

The blonde sighed shakily. “Te necesito.”

“Bueno. Get under the covers, I’ll be right back.”

Alexia frowned, her other hand reaching out to wrap around your abdomen and pull you back as you stepped away. Her long arms wrapped around you, and she pressed her face into your bare back. You smiled to yourself, untangling yourself from her grip and laughing just slightly at the huff of annoyance she let out. When Alexia finally allowed herself to feel, to be clingy, it was like all the attention she didn't let herself ask for caught up to her, and she acted like she wanted to climb into your skin with you.

“I need to change, love. Just give me a second.”

You didn’t look back as you entered the closet, pulling on the nearest shirt and shorts that just happened to belong to Alexia, before you returned to the bedroom, fighting a grin at the sight of Alexia laying in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. Her arms were distinctly crossed over her chest, and there was a slight pout on her face.

You slid into the bed next to her, laughing lightly at the way she eagerly pulled you into her, wrapping all four of her limbs around your smaller body and sighing in relief. You were expecting her to talk, honestly, thinking that she was upset enough that she’d be ready to have a conversation. Instead, though, as her breath tickled your neck, she asked a quiet question.

“Amor, can I go to sleep?” You knew she wasn’t really asking permission to sleep, she was asking you to stay, in the least vulnerable way possible.

“Of course you can, amor. We have the day off tomorrow. Sleep for as long as you need to. I’ll be right here.” You replied, smoothing some hair out of her face as her eyes fluttered shut. She forced them back open, though, eyes flickering from yours down to your nose.

“Wake me up if you are hurting? Please?” She asked, and you nodded, though you had no intention of doing so. Alexia hadn’t slept well in… you didn’t even know how long. This was the perfect opportunity to give herself a break, and you weren’t about to take that away from her, no matter how badly your nose hurt.

Alexia knew you too well, though, shaking her head with a frown as she settled her head back down on your chest, unable to resist the comfort that listening to your heartbeat brought her.

“You are lying.” She mumbled, somehow seeming already half asleep. Her head moved with your chest as you laughed silently, and as she smiled a bit, too.

“I am lying. I’ll wake you up if I need you, though, okay? I promise.”

“You better.” Alexia grumbled.

“Go to sleep.” You instructed, feeling her fully relax into you. It was barely 8pm, yet you were exhausted, and you fell into an easy sleep soon after Alexia.

-------

“Mi amor, wake up.” Alexia whispered, giving your shoulder a gentle shake. You grunted, opening your eyes. Well, you tried to open them. Your left eye was rather… swelled shut, and the right was only a bit better off. You could just barely make out Alexia’s face hovering over yours, worry contorting her features. Your head was pounding, and you gave up all hope of treating Alexia to a self care day today. You weren’t sure you’d be able to get out of bed. “I am sorry to wake you, bebé, but it is 11am, and your nose does not look too good.”

You weren’t very happy with being woken up, now very aware of the pain radiating from your nose, and all you could think was to make it stop. “Ice, please,” you murmured, feeling a gentle kiss pressed to your cheek, before Alexia’s weight was gone from next to you.

You didn’t open your eyes when she returned, just held your hand out for the ice pack.

“I can put-”

“Let me, please.” You insisted, knowing that no matter how gently it was pressed to your face, it was going to hurt, and you really didn't want to flinch away from Alexia’s touch right now.

Alexia handed you the ice pack, and you gently pressed it to your nose, letting out a sharp hiss of pain. Your girlfriend’s hand grabbed your free one, and you squeezed tight.

“Ow ow ow,” you cried through gritted teeth. A few tears escaped from your swollen eyes, and you fought back a sob yourself, now, feeling completely wretched.

“Shh, estas bien, estas bien,” Alexia cooed, feeling completely helpless. “I am so sorry, mi amor, so so sorry.”

“Hold me?” You asked quietly, ignoring her apology completely.

“Anything, cariño, anything you want,” she promised, gently pulling you into her arms. The pain began to numb eventually, but your tears didn’t stop. You were so incredibly frustrated with yourself. You were supposed to be taking care of Alexia, letting her need you, and instead, you were crying because of a broken nose, making her feel even worse.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled into her shirt, your cheek pressed to her chest. You liked it better, cuddling like this. You liked it when she held you, her large hands splayed across your back, her chin resting on the top of your head.

“Why are you sorry?” She asked.

“You’re upset, and you need me, and I’m crying and-”

“Stop, amor, do not be sorry. You always tell me to feel what I need to feel. You need to do that too, sí? You are in pain, you can cry, you can always cry. You never have to be sorry for hurting, and you never have to be sorry for needing me.” Alexia insisted, running her fingers through your hair, being very conscious of not letting anything come into contact with your nose.

“You need me, too.” You said miserably.

“I do.” Alexia admitted. “But I have you, right here, in my arms. I feel better already, mi amor, I really do. I am okay, I just want you to be okay. Let me take care of you. You can have a turn later, when you can open your eyes.”

You choked out a laugh, wincing when it caused pain to shoot across your face. “Don’t make me laugh,” you groaned.

“Well I should go then, amor. I cannot just turn it off.” Alexia said seriously, beginning to slide out from under you.

“Don’t you dare.” You warned, your hand tightening its grip on her shirt. Alexia smiled to herself, readjusting you against her.

“Te tengo, mi vida, te tengo.” She whispered into your hair. You sighed happily, the pain in your face lessened, somehow, by the affection the blonde was showing you.

“Talk to me.” You asked after a minute, tangling your leg with hers under the covers. Your nose might be shattered, and you might be almost concussed, but you weren’t giving up on getting Alexia to lean on you.

“About what?” Alexia whispered back, not stopping her fingers softly running through your hair.

“How are you doing?”

Your girlfriend was silent for a few moments, seemingly thinking through her answer. She was more honest when she did respond than you expected. “I am okay. I mean, it has been a rough few months. I was not really okay yesterday, but I am now.”

“Ale, you don’t need to be okay just because I’m not either,” you started, but Alexia cut you off with a shake of her head.

“No, I am not lying. I am okay. I feel better. Seeing you hurt… it puts things into perspective. All that matters, really, is that you are okay, and you are with me. Everything else is… not important. Not if I have you.”

You weren’t really used to Alexia making big statements like this. It wasn’t that she didn’t express her love for you, because she did. It was just… she normally did it with actions, rather than words. This was a welcome surprise, though, and you felt your already swollen eyes welling with tears.

“You’ll always have me.” You promised, forcing one eyelid open to gaze up at her. You knew you probably looked atrocious at the moment, all swollen and bruised, but Alexia still looked at you like she always did; like you were the best thing she’d seen that day, the best thing she ever would see.

“Even if I break your nose again?” she joked, but her voice was a little choked up.

“Even then.” You promised, puckering your lips for a kiss. Alexia leaned in, so delicately, barely brushing her lips with yours.

“Te amo, más que a todo,” she whispered, her thumb rubbing a light circle over your cheek. You shivered a little at the contact, whispering the words back. You could see in her eyes, even with your rather challenged vision, that she meant it.

-----

i've had this in the drafts for actual months

i feel like i say this with half the fics i post but i really... hate this one. which is why she's been hidden away for such a long time but i finally finished the ending and i just thought i'd post and delete it later if i hate it still :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso

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erwinsvow · 16 days

Note

rafe meeting shy reader’s parents for the first time

im thinking of right after... ♡

truth be told, you had been really nervous about the whole thing. rafe was a great boyfriend to you, but sometimes a bit too blunt. you worried your parents might not like him as much as you do, that they might not be okay with your new relationship.

and though you now understood that there was no force in the world that could keep you away from him, you still wanted your parents to like him. which, of course, they did. he charmed them easily, bringing a bottle of their favorite red and flowers for your home. he struck up easy conversation with your dad about business and how lovely your house was with your mom.

all in all, perfect. while your parents loaded the dishwasher, you excused the two of you, insisting you needed to give rafe some of his stuff back from upstairs.

when you get him into your bedroom, you close the door, pushing him against it and leaning in for a hot kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and against you, tongues wet against each other, with your biting down on his lip until he pulls away.

"hey, hey. easy. they're right down there."

"i don't care," you mumble, lovestruck. you pull him in again, mind going completely blank except for a want to keep rafe's lips on yours. he manhandles you a little, pushing away from the door to at least get further into your bedroom.

he only gets you pushed against another wall, legs wrapping themselves around rafe's waist automatically, pressing yourself against him in a way that has him concerned.

"woah, woah, hold on, kid. we're going back down for dessert, can't have it obvious-"

"who cares about dessert?" you protest, and you look up at him with your pretty eyes filled with lust, chest heaving in the pretty sundress he'd been admiring all night. you're flushed and warm, overcome with a wanting for rafe that needed to be satisfied now, though you're even a little confused yourself where it stemmed from.

"really? you wanna fuck with your parents downstairs?"

"is that so wrong? we do it at tannyhill.."

"no one's around at tannyhill. c'mon, calm down. i don't need them hatin' me already. they just started likin' me."

you sigh a breath of protest, shoulders falling, but you don't complain. you still stalk back up, close to your boyfriend, putting your hands on his shoulders, looking up with your swollen lips and fluttery eyes.

"i knew they'd like you. y'know, i like you too.. a lot."

"yeah, kid. i can tell."

"i jus' wanna show you how much i like you, s'all." your words are becoming a little slurred, eyes a little dazed, lips a little pouty. you lean up for another kiss, gentle this time, moaning into his mouth while your nails grip rafe's arm through his pressed button up.

"c'mon baby. you're gonna get me in trouble," rafe says when he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. he can make out the sound of the faucet shutting, the fridge opening to retrieve the cake you'd made earlier.

"not if we're quick, right?" you rake your nails—freshly done today, pink and pretty just how he likes—against rafe's chest. "and i can be quiet... right?" you lean in again, pressing a hot kiss to rafe's jaw. "no one has to know-"

in hindsight, it was a mistake letting himself get swayed by you like this. he blamed your boldness this time, usually too shy to ask for what you want, just relying on rafe to give it to you. but he's still a man, one madly in love—at that—and he doesn't think he can resist you if he tries.

rafe ends up in a position he's not used to—lying on his back on your soft, sweet-smelling sheets, against a pillow and next to a stuffed teddy. you're on top, your dress hiked up and panties yanked to the side. the top is pushed down just enough to show him your tits, one of his ringed fingers teasing your nipple while the other guides your hips.

you're close already, he can tell, the way your entire body trembles, how you're biting your lip so hard it's about to bleed to keep yourself silent. besides for the sound of his skin slapping against yours and your whimpers, the room is silent. it's not gonna take much, but he decides to give it to you anyways.

his grip tightens, thrusting up and fucking into you hard, controlling the pace. your hands which had been lying flat on his chest to hold yourself up, were abandoned to cover your mouth instead, his eyes glued to where he was sliding inside of you.

"c'mon, kid. fuck. you wanted it, didn't ya? gotta be quick, then. shit." you clench around his dick, a strangled moan escaping your lips. he has half a mind to push your face into the mattress and fuck you from behind, but it's gonna have to wait.

you're getting close. he's getting close. another second of rafe fucking you like this, with you on top but still having no control, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars and have your eyes rolling back. you're so close you can taste it, gushing around his dick and knowing he's gonna fill you up with the way he goes faster, until you hear a knock on the door.

"honey? rafe? dessert's ready."

"god! m'coming!"

ten minutes later, you're eating chocolate cake with rafe's cum spilling out of you, probably dripping down your thigh and making a mess. his hair is a mess, your lips swollen. you catch his eye while he's shoving cake in his mouth and neither of you can hold back your laughter.

your parents haven't noticed anything yet, but you can't make eye contact with them for a week after.

but it was definitely worth it.

#angel im so sorry i corrupted your innocent prompt like this #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #that being said i need his dick so badly or i may die

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reiderwriter · 7 months

Text

The One Thing You Can't Have

Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)

Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.

Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception

A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!

With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.

When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.

You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.

"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.

The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.

"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.

He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.

The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.

"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.

"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.

"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.

You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.

After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.

Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.

There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.

After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.

He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.

It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.

He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.

You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.

“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.

“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.

It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.

You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.

“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.

He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.

Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.

To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.

“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.

“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.

“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.

“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.

“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”

“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.

Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.

Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.

So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.

Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.

So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.

“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.

“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.

“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.

“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.

“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”

“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”

“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.

Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.

“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.

He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.

“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”

And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.

You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.

It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.

He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.

When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.

You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.

The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.

You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.

"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.

Derek was going to give him hell.

"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."

"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.

"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.

His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.

He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.

He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.

It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.

The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.

Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.

Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.

The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.

The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.

"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.

"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.

"Y/N, how drunk are you?"

"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.

"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.

"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"

"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.

"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.

"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."

"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.

"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.

He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.

And he had a third pair of your underwear.

He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.

He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.

Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.

It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.

In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.

The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.

You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.

They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.

"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.

You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.

"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.

Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.

"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."

"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.

You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.

"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.

Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.

Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.

He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.

You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.

You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.

"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."

"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.

By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.

Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.

Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.

Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.

You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.

This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.

Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.

You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.

He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.

But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.

Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.

You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.

Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.

The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.

With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.

Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.

His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.

He was screwed.

"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.

Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.

"What did I miss?"

"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."

"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.

"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.

"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.

But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.

But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.

He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.

"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.

You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.

He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.

"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.

"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."

"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.

"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.

For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.

"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.

“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.

“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”

You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.

Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.

When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.

“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.

“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”

“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”

The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.

“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.

He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.

Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.

“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.

“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.

“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.

“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.

“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.

“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”

“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”

“Was that a threat, Spencer?”

“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”

“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”

“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”

“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.

Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.

When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.

“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”

“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.

“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”

You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.

“Peace offering?”

He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.

“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”

He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.

Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.

“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”

“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.

“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”

“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.

His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.

Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.

You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.

You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.

“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.

“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.

When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up

You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.

“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.

You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.

You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.

“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.

“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”

“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.

You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.

“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”

You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.

Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.

Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.

“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.

“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.

There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.

“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.

“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.

“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.

“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.

“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.

“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.

“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”

“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.

“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.

“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”

“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”

“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.

“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”

“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.

“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.

You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.

“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.

“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”

“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.

“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.

“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.

“What?”

“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.

“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.

“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Spencer! What are you doing?”

“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”

“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.

“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #kinktober 23

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barcaatthemoon · 1 month

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good enough || alanna kennedy x reader ||

you meet alanna's friends, but it doesn't go as well as you had hoped.

alanna was excited as she held your hand and led you towards her friends. you were beyond nervous, but alanna was adamant that it would be fine. she believed that her friends would love you. she loved you so much that they'd really have no choice, and even if you didn't get along at first, alanna was willing to be patient about that.

she understood that there would be some difficulty with the language barrier. the two of you had lapses sometimes in your conversations. alanna didn't think she had ever been so grateful for google translate, which had become a staple in her apartment since you started hanging around.

you had moved to manchester for school. alanna had run into you at a coffee shop, saving you from a rather aggressive and angry barista who couldn't understand you. as a thank you, you had gone out with her. that was the beginning of your relationship, and you hadn't looked back since.

"oh, there they are!" alanna said happily. she tugged on your arm gently as she pulled you over to a table. you glanced nervously at the group of girls sitting there, all of whom embraced your girlfriend in tight hugs. "(y/n), this is mackenzie, caitlin, and steph. guys, this is my girlfriend, (y/n)."

"nice to meet you," steph said as she pulled you into a hug. caitlin and steph seemed a lot more excited to meet you than mackenzie. you understood why, alanna was her best friend, and you had seemingly popped up out of nowhere.

"why don't you sit down and i'll get us something to drink, okay?" alanna suggested. steph and caitlin shared a look as alanna pulled your chair out for you. mackenzie, however, didn't seem nearly as impressed by things. she wasn't being outright mean to you, but you could tell that she definitely didn't want you here.

"despite alanna talking about you constantly, she hasn't really told us much about you," steph said as she leaned forward a little. "she mentioned you're not from here, though."

"oh, um, yes, i came from france for school," you told them. steph and caitlin asked you a few more questions about yourself before alanna got back. once she was back, alanna took up the rest of your attention. she hadn't done it on purpose, but it was a habit that she had quickly fallen into.

while a lot of people would argue that you didn't really do anything for work, your videos took up a lot of time. you were nearly at a record for followers on tiktok and instagram, and nobody had even seen your face yet. you made sure to do everything that you could to engage with people without revealing your identity. the last thing you wanted was to get swarmed by people whenever you were just trying to enjoy a day out with your girlfriend.

"hey macca, are you staying over still?" alanna asked. the little brunch was coming to an end, steph and caitlin having left just a few minutes before. they seemed excited to see you again, even if you'd be wearing a blue jersey then.

mackenzie glanced at you for a moment before turning to alanna to answer, "of course. i didn't come all this way for a cup of coffee. you owe me a few drinks at least."

"and i promise you more drinks than either of us should ever have, but first, i promised (y/n) that we'd go shopping after this," alanna said. mackenzie let out a little huff at that, but didn't say anything.

the three of you left together after that, alanna seemingly oblivious to the tension. you could feel mackenzie glaring at you whenever alanna wasn't paying attention. that was why you were glad to have slipped away from alanna and mackenzie after making a few stops at different stores. at least you had been until you got to the check out.

you had a good amount of money from your videos and social media profiles. it was enough that alanna's jokes about you being the breadwinner had stopped being jokes. that being said, you didn't want to have to call alanna to come and pay for you, but the clerk didn't seem to be willing at all to help with the language barrier.

"hey babe, sorry it took so long to get here," alanna apologized. you were quick to reassure her that it as fine and apologize in your own language. you had spent a good part of the day speaking english, and your brain was a little tired of constant translating. languages had never really been one of your strong suits, and it was times like this that you were grateful for alanna's patience with you.

"hey lan, do you think we can head back to your place now?" mackenzie asked. you still had a few things that you wanted to get, but mackenzie already seemed to dislike you, and you didn't want to make it worse.

"babe, are you done?" alanna asked. you nodded as you cuddled up to her side, pretending to be tired. alanna took your shopping bags from you and carried them to the car. she walked ahead of you, just far enough for mackenzie to pull you back for a moment.

"you shouldn't take advantage of her, it's wrong. alanna isn't your little errand girl, nor is she your personal bank account," mackenzie warned. you seemed to look confused, and so mackenzie decided to rephrase herself. "it's not right to treat her like this. she's way too good for you."

while alanna did seem to notice that you'd gotten sort of quiet, she still didn't manage to pick up on the tension between you and mackenzie. the glares that you had been trying to ignore all day seemed to penetrate through the mental barrier you'd put up. her words echoed in your brain, constantly reminding you of the insecurities that you had earlier on in your relationship.

"where are you going?" alanna asked as she watched you start to gather your things. she had been excited about you staying the whole week with her, especially after you had opted to spend the weekend on campus. your school schedule had been hectic, but this was a slow week with no assignments, one that you could dedicate solely on alanna.

"i can't stay here tonight, i'm sorry," you told her. alanna frowned as she watched you slip your backpack over your shoulders. she leaned forward for a kiss, one that you didn't give her as you rushed out of her apartment.

"hey, don't get all pouty on me. come on, get another drink and let's have fun," mackenzie tried. alanna didn't even look at her as she shot up from the couch and ran to follow you outside.

"(y/n)!" alanna yelled as she chased you through the parking lot. she was faster than you, so she managed to catch up before you reached your car. "what's wrong babe?"

"i can't stay with mackenzie there. she hates me. i just want to be good enough for you. i've been trying so hard, and she barely knows me, but she can see through me," you cried. alanna pulled you in for a hug, holding you tightly in her arms. "i'm sorry, but i don't think this is a good idea anymore."

"stop it. macca is protective, and while i love her, sometimes she needs to get her head out of her ass. don't listen to her, she'll come around to you, she just has to get to know you. now, i don't know where you not being good enough for me comes in because it's not true," alanna told you. she cupped your cheeks and tilted your head back a little, forcing you to look up at her. "i love you, and you love me. if anything, i'm not good enough for you, understood?"

"i know that you want me to stay, but i don't think i should while she's here," you said. alanna looked disappointed, but she wouldn't force you to stay if you truly didn't want to. "i'm sorry, lani."

"it's okay-," alanna pressed a kiss to the top of your head, "-i'll see you in the morning for breakfast. if it's okay with you, i'd really like to try and get you and macca on better terms, but we can wait a while first."

"she is your best friend?" you asked. alanna was quick to give you a little nod. "then i will try again tomorrow, for you."

"see, there you go again being too good to me," alanna laughed. she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, careful to keep things soft and sweet. "i do wish you'd stay, but i'll pick you up tomorrow."

"tomorrow," you promised. "bye lani."

"bye babe, i love you." alanna dropped her hands away from you and started to slowly walk away.

"i love you too," you said back. alanna was smiling as she made her way back towards her apartment building. a part of you wanted to go back and spend the night, but you needed to clear your head a little and figure out what you were going to say to mackenzie the next day. you knew that alanna was going to have some words with the other woman, and you just hoped that she didn't say anything to ruin a friendship over you.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alanna kennedy x reader #alanna kennedy imagine

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steviewashere · 5 months

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Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

#stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #first kiss #Steve Harrington has a bisexual awakening #Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder

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bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

For kinktober, may i request first time with any of the tall boys? Do you thinn they'd be gentle or..? You can choose who :)

Oooo!!! There are definitely some who'd be gentle...and others who I think wouldn't be~

Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy!!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Gentle or Rough~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! First time, reader is a virgin! GN! Bottom! Reader, praising, fingering, c*mming inside, and eating out! Ayato calls the reader darling!

(Includes: Diluc, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Ayato, and Childe!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc: (He'd be gentle~)

"You're doing so good~"

He'd whisper into your ear before trailing kisses down your bare chest, worshipping your body and this special gift you were going to share with him, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel better than you ever had. He wanted to do everything you'd let him, his fingers slowly sliding from your hips down to your thighs to pull them apart, your entrance tight and ready for him...he wanted to watch as you came for him, eyes rolling back into your head while you breathlessly moaned his name~

𑁍༄Zhongli: (He'd be gentle at first~)

"You're more addicting than whine itself~"

He'd be so gentle at first, kissing the insides of your thighs with his soft lips while your face grew more blushed with each peck, then he'd look up at you with love filled eyes, once again questioning if it was okay to proceed...and then once you gave him affirmation, his tongue would slowly slide across your entrance, leaving a trail of his hot saliva before sinking it inside of you, moaning at how delicious you tasted. Once he'd started hearing your beautifully lewd sounds though, his pent up frustration would surface and after years of nothing...he'd go more than just a couple rounds~

𑁍༄Neuvillette: (He'd be very gentle~)

"I want to make love to you~"

He'd ask you more than once if you were okay, even when he was sinking deep into you, eyes glazed over with lust and want as your tight walls clenched around him. He knew his strength was above average and the last thing he wanted was for your first time to hurt, but holding himself back was so hard, your hole was mind meltingly addictive to him, to the point he became simply unraveled because of you. As you moaned out his name he'd whisper constant I love yous into your ear and by the end he'd have you filled with that love, warm and slowly dripping down your thighs~

𑁍༄Ayato: (He'd be a bit gentle~)

"Louder darling~"

He'd say, his voice dripping with candy coated lust and his tongue covered in your essence, he wanted you to be almost screaming for him by the end of the night, your entire body exhausted from the amount of times he sent you over the edge. He wanted to hear his name leave your puffy kiss covered lips over and over again while he came so deep inside you that you saw stars, and then he could just sit there and stare at his goregous darlings fucked out face for all eternity~

𑁍༄Childe: (He'd be rough~)

"Let's see who can make the other finish more times~"

At first you'd think he was joking, it was your first time after all and surely he wouldn't actually turn it into a competition, but you were very wrong. He'd chuckle as you came again, your tight walls slick with his hot cum, your body exhausted and covered in perfect marks that he hoped everyone would see in the morning. He'd keep going until you cried out his name, until his seed was spilling out of you and your virginity was completely ripped away. He just wanted to make sure it was more than memorable, even if you couldn't walk in the morning~

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Happy kinktober~*⁠.⁠✧

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satoruxx · 3 months

Text

pairing: poly!sashisu x f!reader | 2k words summary: mentions of injuries, sashisu fluff, tiny bit of angst, pet names, shoko is literally wife, suguru is super touchy lol, satoru's a menace but he loves you, protective sashisu, extra protective satoru, shoko and satoru bicker for like half of this lol rheya’s note: offers you more of these three and runs away (sorry guys they literally won't leave my mind i swear they'd treat you so good)

one look at shoko’s frowning face and you’re already nervous, squirming in place as she leans in close to inspect your body. you have to take a deep breath—because while normally her close proximity makes you flush and stumble over words, this time you are anxiously silent.

because you can tell that she is anything but pleased. her eyes are narrow as they take in the wound on your stomach, lips pursed like she’s holding back a scolding.

which you know, you definitely deserve.

she scoots her stool closer to the examination table you’re sitting on, fingers coming up to undo the makeshift bandage you had tied around your torso in the midst of the mission.

you try to hold back your wince as she pulls away the fabric that sticks to your blood, but she catches it. she’s always been overly observant.

you shake your head at her when her gaze flickers up to assess your pain levels. “i’m fine.” you don’t mean for your voice to come out so hurried.

“looks like it.” her voice lacks the usual warmth, normally so sweet as she teases and dotes on you like you’re the only thing in her world. but this, this disappointment that she’s not good at hiding, has something in your chest tugging.

you think you might go crazy if she doesn’t smile at you in the next few minutes.

“oh c’mon,” you shrug, laughing carelessly because it’s not that bad. “it’s fine. besides i have a great doctor. i knew i’d be okay.”

shoko takes a deep breath, honey brown eyes boring into yours when she looks up again. “listen to me—” there is something odd about the way she’s speaking that has you sitting up a little straighter. “this is the one thing i hate doing for you.”

your mouth clamps shut, any trace of a smile gone.

“hell babe, i’d do anything for you,” she sighs, leaning closer to your face—so close you can see her dark lashes brush her cheeks when she blinks. “but i hate hearing that i have to come down here and heal you.”

the intensity of her gaze has you chewing on your lip again, an action that her eyes follow. but she doesn’t say anything else, leaning back to continue her work—though there is a freer air about her, like a pressure has been released.

you don’t say anything either, too focused on her and her pretty eyes and her warm hands and the way she loves you.

you hear the sliding door to the infirmary open, and immediately feel a familiar overwhelming presence worming its way into the room.

“you serious?” satoru’s voice goes high at the end of the question—barely concealed panic. “what the fuck happened?”

you hold back a grimace knowing that his focus is only trained on your wound. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you offer weakly, but satoru is already in front of you, brows drawn tight in anger and something else.

“like hell,” he hisses, eyes darting between your face and body. “you almost died!”

“stop yelling at her.” suguru’s voice comes out exasperated as he enters, shooting satoru a weak glare—but you know him well enough to catch that he isn’t happy about this either. he takes a few steps until he’s directly in front of you, crouching next to shoko’s stool so that he’s in your line of sight. lavender eyes take you in, and you can see the the relief that seeps into them.

his palm comes up to gently hold your cheek. “okay baby?”

you’re nodding before he even finishes, doing your best to reassure because if there’s anything you hate it’s making him worry.

making them all worry.

suguru’s hand remains attached to your skin even as he turns to look at shoko. “how bad is it?”

shoko doesn’t look away, focusing on her hands as she sighs. ”it was deep. definitely could’ve been bad but…she’ll be fine.”

her eyes flicker up to yours, and you bite your lip nervously. you hear suguru inhale, fingers twitching against your cheek.

it is satoru who breaks the silence.

“what were you thinking?” he asks, low as he grits his teeth. there is a wild look in his eyes, cerulean glazed over with something you can’t quite place. the tone of his voice has shoko and suguru sharing a look, one that you don’t have the time to decipher because you’re too focused on the way satoru is clenching his fists.

your shoulders drop. “you’re mad.” it’s a statement, not a question, and you see the sharp look suguru sends satoru’s way.

“i’m not—” satoru inhales abruptly, interrupting his own words. “just—”

he stops speaking.

“he wants you to be more careful,” shoko fills the silence, still staring at your abdomen. “you can’t be careless like this.”

there’s a dip in her brows, one that matches the downward tilt of her lips. she doesn’t look at you, and you think you can feel the slight tremor of her hands as they press against your skin.

her expression has you unable to look away, feeling oh so cared for and protected under the warmth of her healing.

so you nod mutely, and almost cry in relief when you see the twitch of her lips as she finishes healing you. suguru chuckles under his breath, his empty hand lacing through your fingers and squeezing—a message that only you understand. “good,” he sighs, tilting his head fondly. “take care of yourself—at least for our sake, yeah sweetheart?”

shoko throws satoru a look even as he crosses his arms and glares at the wall, refusing to look at you. “that goes for you too, dummy!”

satoru’s head whips around to throw her an appalled glare. “i’m plenty careful!”

shoko wordlessly reaches out and tugs up his shirt, where you can see the faint remnants of a fresh battle scar. “didn’t i heal this for you not two days ago?” she rolls her eyes. “and the fact that you can heal it yourself is even worse.”

satoru pulls his shirt down and shoots her a glare that’s half a pout. “well maybe i wouldn’t be so bad at it if you were a better teacher!”

“like i’d spend my free time teaching you.”

“did you just wake up mean one day or were you born this way?”

“idiot. i told you—it’s fwoo, then hyoi!”

“what the hell does that mean, sho?!”

you watch the two bicker with a smile, and suguru looks down at you with a mirrored expression. “scared us a little there, baby.” he lowers his voice, palm sliding through your hair as he pushes a few strands back.

“didn’t mean to,” you grimace, leaning into his touch. “but it seriously wasn’t that bad.”

“i know,” he answers, eyes heavy with affection and fatigue and all the depth in the world. “we weren’t expecting it is all. we came back and nanami let us know what happened. satoru threw a fit y’know?”

you wince internally, knowing that it probably wasn’t very pleasant. “he did?”

“he’s an idiot but you should know he’s crazy about you, sweetheart.” suguru smothers an amused huff. “he stopped hearing anything after they said you were hurt.”

you don’t know what to say to that, but you don’t have to, because suguru’s smile widens like he understands. he always does.

“didn’t mean to make him worry,” you mumble, watching as shoko lazily punches at satoru’s gut, to which he dramatically groans even though he’s the one who had his infinity down for her.

“i know,” suguru grins, fingers brushing over your shoulder almost carefully. “he does too.”

you suppress a smile, feeling oddly grateful as you watch satoru whine and complain when shoko shoots sarcastic remarks at him.

something about all of this that makes you feel so blissfully comfortable.

“okay alright guys,” suguru finally sighs, shaking his head. there’s a tinge of amusement in his voice even as he shoots them an exasperated glare. “give it a rest.”

“she started it!” satoru says—indignant.

shoko huffs, rolling her eyes. “whatever.”

she turns back to you, gently cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip. “feeling okay, babe?”

“yeah,” you nod, feeling your skin warm under her touch. “feels a lot better.”

she stands up with a soft smile. “good. then you’re free to go.”

suguru exhales, his smile becoming a little more eased as he pushes your hair away from your neck. “that’s good. let’s go home then, yeah?”

you nod, starting to pull your shirt and uniform jacket back on. suguru steps away to give you room, standing next to shoko who nudges his shoulder affectionately.

“you know, i bet you do things recklessly just so that shoko can heal you,” suguru says to you—a teasing glint in his eyes.

you look up and grin, dramatically covering your mouth. “don’t expose me like that! i’ve been getting her attention like this for years!”

suguru laughs even as shoko shakes her head in amusement. “silly girl. you’re crazy.”

“you can’t blame me,” you shrug playfully, buttoning up your shirt. “it’s your fault for being such a good doctor.”

suguru squeezes shoko’s fingers in agreement, no doubt still lingering with the warmth of her technique. she laughs to herself, rolling her eyes fondly as she watches you finish getting dressed. “you should take a nice bath, babe.” she grins at you. “i can help you if the injury’s still a little sore.”

you nod and suguru smiles, slinging an arm around shoko’s shoulders. “good. then we’ll go back to the dorm and get it ready, yeah?”

you smile at them gratefully, no words needed, and they return the expression before heading out.

the echoing of the door sliding shut pierces the silence between you and the strongest. satoru is staring at the tiled floor like he’s about to kill it, shoulders drawn tight with tension.

you sigh, looking up at him almost meekly—so unlike your usual interactions. “you still angry at me, toru?”

you see the effort with which he exhales, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes just barely concealed by dark frames. he turns to take two full steps towards you, until he towers over your sitting form—and while most people would find it intimidating, you have always found satoru’s overwhelming presence to be a comfort.

his fingers reach up to push a strand of your hair away, deliberately tucking it behind your ear before his hand rests against your jaw. “‘course not,” he answers, voice low. his thumb traces over your jawline. “just panicked.”

“sorry.” you turn to press your lips against his palm, and you see his features soften.

he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your temple, an uncharacteristic softness that only you are privy to see. “‘s okay.”

“but you know i can take care of myself, right?” you ask him, almost imploringly because you have never wanted to look weak in front of someone who is so strong. satoru grins, eyes glinting with what almost seems like pride as he ruffles your hair.

“duh,” he laughs, taking your hands to pull you off the examination table. once you’re standing he slings an arm around your shoulders and presses his nose to your temple. “i’d be stupid not to. you’re crazy strong, y’know?”

you try to hide your pleased smile, even though you know that being acknowledged by him—by all three of them—will forever be what keeps you going.

“well at least you know,” you grin, and satoru rolls his eyes, fingers coming up to poke at your side.

“don’t get cocky.”

“look who’s talking!” you retort and he shakes his head, amused. satoru’s grip tightens imperceptibly, and you think yours does too, something telling you that you’ll never be able to let him go.

“c’mon sweets, let’s go get you that bath now, yeah? sho and suguru are probably waiting.”

you hum, a gentle smile tugging at your lips when you hear his words. you wrap your arm around his waist, leaning into him as he walks you back to the dorm—walks you home.

because that’s what the three of them are to you—home.

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