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freakshow-babyy · 3 days ago
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When your little brother and little sister are fucking with the enemy (romantically)
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starry-eyer · 7 months ago
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When I see stuff like this I kinda want to bash my head into a wall:
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To start off, I’m not sure whether this person was commenting on book or show Cersei, but honestly, it doesn’t even matter because she’s so much more than the ‘ambitious villain’ or the ‘murderous girlboss’ tropes in both the book and show.
(Of course, I do have my issues with the way Cersei was written in the show like most people but this is simply a rant post so I’m not going to go through the differences of Show vs Book Cersei)
Cersei is a female character who was shaped by her environment, who’s insecurities were created by her environment, and she’s a woman who’s idiotic mistakes can be traced back to how her environment shaped her. She’s much more than a murderous girlboss, she’s both a victim of the system and also a beneficiary of it, while also acting as an agent of it to keep the status quo while also desiring what the system denied her.
Cersei is NUANCED and complicated and even now people hate that about her and want her to have been a purely evil woman handcrafted in a vacuum, ignoring the context of her life because readers would rather not engage with Cersei’s victimhood and nuances because that ruins their idea of: She Was The Problem and Always The Problem. (People would rather say that she deserved her walk of shame instead of interacting meaningfully with the theme of systematic gender-based violence that is so prevalent in Cersei’s story. The exploration of patriarchal violence in Show Alicent’s story is done so horribly in comparison.)
And what really pissed me off about these tags is that this person has clearly decided that they don’t care to interact with the nuance of Cersei and are fine with flattening her, and yet they shit on others for not liking Alicent.
Because of the way Alicent is written in this show, she almost always has a ‘woe is me I can do no wrong’ attitude, which of course drives people away from the character (woe is me I deserve to take a child’s eye 🥺). However, what actually annoys me is how she’s made out to be stupid, foolish, ignorant, and inconsistent due to the horrible writing of this show, all of which are deviations from her book characterization. Also, I despise it when people want me to support writing decisions and changes made in adaptations that are downright misogynistic and are meant to attract the male gaze.
But what pisses many people, including myself, off is how the changes made negatively impacted many other characters. Alicent’s terrible characterization is like a black hole that distorts and warps the whole story! It’s annoying af!
So when people like this say: ‘She’s nuanced and people just can’t handle it 🙄;’ I say: No. She’s horribly written and a different character from the book and people have a right to be critical about these changes that stripped a female character of 1) her agency and 2) her intelligence!
And the thing is, there was little reason for the writers to have made all these changes to Alicent’s characterization! In the book she is an interesting character with clear motives and understandable reactions. She’s cunning and ambitious and acts the way a noble lady who became queen would. And despite her clear ambitions and dislike of Rhaenyra, she still makes a comment wondering about who would protect the Princess from Ser Criston, and yet she then takes Cole into her service after his falling out with Rhaenyra. That’s a perfect example of nuance! Show Alicent could never compare to book Alicent’s clear moral values and consistent disregard of said moral values in pursuit of power.
And because of this, Book Alicent isn’t easy to stomach. It’s hard for most people to come to terms with a character like her and it’s even harder for people to feel sympathetic for her at the end when she went mad with grief.
On the other hand, Show Alicent was designed in a way to garner pity, and when the writers felt like her current arc wouldn’t be enough to garner the specific reaction they wanted they would then throw in a time skip and suddenly she’s completely different and yet still Thee victim. She’s designed to be as sympathetic as fucking possible! The camera angles, the background music, and the lighting is set up in a way to make sure you the viewer feels pity or sympathy for her! Cause that’s her role in this series! She’s thee Ultimate Victim!
But too bad for the writers as many people are fed up with this kind of inconsistent writing. Even when the writers created a whole new challenge for Alicent where she’s shitted on by the green council and forced to face the beast she helped to raise, I and many others could never feel any satisfaction as it was clear that once again Alicent was being made to be Thee Ultimate Victim who was just led astray by the patriarchy and was a victim of it and was only just realizing it so don’t you pity her don’t you feel sad for her and now she’s trying to do the right thing so pls pls pls pity her 🥺~ So it shouldn’t be surprising that many people are annoyed by these eNLiGhtEnEd changes that have led to a complete deviation from the source material.
To summarize: Cersei is an excellent fucking character who’s by no means easy to stomach, and because she’s not easy to stomach she’s often reduced to annoying ass tropes by dumbasses who are reading above their comprehension level. But when you actually try to understand her, you can easily see why she turned out the way she did and you can feel sympathy for her while understanding that she’s both victim and perpetrator! On the other hand, Show Alicent is a mess and HOTD is trying to make her serve a different narrative role than she did in the books so ofc people are going to be unhappy with the changes as book readers are once again faced with the annoying reality that the writers don’t give a fuck about the source material.
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edenfire · 2 months ago
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🌸💗 "does it really look alright?" 💗🌸
the newest chapter of yaribu has me screaming, crying, throwing up🥰🥰🥰💗🎀💞🌸 I've been waiting SO LONG for this update and it was soooo worth it🥺💗💗💗
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eeblouissant · 10 months ago
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in this essay I need to talk about the way Dorothy acts around & reacts to stan in this clip (season 4 ep 5) specifically or I will simply perish.
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enjoy the unorganized (unedited, and definitely not reread) chaos, this will be more of a ramble than anything - it’s so late & I need to get these thoughts out of my head before I explode.
Firstly, the clip in question:
( 1:15 - 2:22 )
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now. Oh boy. Where do I even begin.
As much as I know it was done for comedic effect; the way Dorothy doesn’t hesitate to let herself cuddle into stan (STAN!!! CUDDLING. with STAN. And **publicly** there are so many layers here) when he puts an arm around her, describing what probably were the happier times Dorothy’s mentioned having with him despite it all (or at least a version of them. his version, that he’d created in an attempt to persuade her, as we learn pretty quickly) - oh god it just breaks my heart. She lets herself feel those memories for just a moment, before it all inevitably comes crashing down again. The way she snaps so quickly… that’s something we do not see in younger Dorothy. Younger Dorothy comes off much more passive-aggressive leaning more on the passive (shy?) side, she’s just very logical & no nonsense (but not in the way she is now). That’s something that Dorothy never really loses - Whereas current Dorothy has lost that (passiveness) completely with stan, and seems find it natural to come off as “aggressive” & dominating around/toward others. So - that ability to shut off & become defensive like that, & so fast, was developed later on. She’s got a bite now that was learned, because she had to bite to survive. For her own sanity. Do you know how much work that would take to unlearn & heal, if she ever even tried? oh my. Yeah I’m not well. I don’t think she would have much faith in it changing either, it’s become such a part of her. I think she would feel a little lost without it.
That first bit kills me - but what kills me about this scene most, is that last bit. Where she tries to push back further with a comment she know will be funny and just a little hurtful (towards stan, im sure she thought) and that will further deflect. But it backfires and hurts her instead. Her voice breaks. It breaks and her eyes soften and it looks like that just for a moment she lets the hurt shine through. Because that is especially painful, she cannot bury it. Her entire demeanour changes as those last few words are delivered (and Oh My God do they register fast - like she’d reopened that wound having no idea it was going to sting so badly.) and I just - oh my GOD. For that split second she looks like she might crack, the pain in her voice is so clear. & then the walls go right back up & it’s pushed right back down. I cannot deal. I absolutely cannot. Dorothy has let herself be vulnerable in the past, but has there ever been more than maybe (maybe) a handfull of instances where her voice & face soften that way? Anyway, I’m absolutely losing it over those little details. I’ve yet to find another scene where it feels like younger Dorothy shines through in the current. It hurt my heart so good and I cannot stop thinking about it :’) I think this is my sign to rebinge every episode in order. Because I am definitely forgetting - there has to be more.
Okay that’s all for now! If any of you have any thoughts or personal fav scenes (etc) to share as well please feel free!!! Dorothy angst seems to be my drug of choice lately lmao
(like two bits of this were my own interpretations of Dorothy’s character based on observation, don’t take them as canon nor am I claiming they are, because we obviously don’t know exactly what happened in between + younger Dorothy didn’t have much screen time :’)! Headcanons are just so much fun to throw around!!)
She <333 <33333333 <3 <3 <3 heart heart heart xxoo literal angel
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einsatzzz · 5 months ago
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Hello ❤️ I have some meta asks for your ocs
Kana: What controversies/drama would your character incite in fandom?
And (yes she gets two because I am biased and looking for crumbs)
What is the quote between your character and their love interest/whoever they might be shipped with that their fans would latch onto?
Kurumi: What would be the ‘incorrect but wildly popular’ interpretation of your character in fandom?
Yui: If your character had a breakout show/film/comic, what would the plot be? Who would be in their supporting cast?
- 🍎
Hello 🍎Anon 🫶✨👀 Thank you for sending this over and enabling me to yap more about my blorbos 🥰🥰🥰 I only know what to talk about when I draw them, but for pure text posts I often blank out on what to say, so I love asks! I will try my best to give you Kana crumbs too!
🍎Kana: What controversies/drama would your character incite in fandom?
If Kana were a canon character, Kana and controversies/drama are like blood brothers, like soulmates. They are a set package. It wasn't there at the start or perhaps there will be initial discourse about her gender. But fandom will find out eventually that they have bigger fish to fry. As more and more layers of her character gets revealed, the more fandom discourse there is. She is certainly not a character for people who view things in a black or white manner or those with low reading comprehension 😭🤣😭🤣 *looks at those gear grindingly loud mfs on twi//ter*
On the surface, she would prob be reduced to either a some kind of siscon (memes included) or straight-up a cruel/heartless character with ulterior motives ("maybe her love for Kurumi is just a facade? and she has ulterior motives?"). If you peel off the first few layers, you will see that she really does genuinely love Kurumi and her family, for better or for worse. If you peel off more layer, you will see an asshole. If you peel even more layers, you will see an even bigger asshole banned from hell.
Also do you know that one meme where they keep putting Oi\\kawa (from Hai\\kyuu, a VOLLEYBALL series) in a line up of actual villains/war criminals?
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Kana would be there, except she kinda deserves to be there. People who don't get the joke would complain about why Oi//kawa keeps getting included in these fuckass lists that includes Kana and other messed up characters lmao (truthfully i didn't get it at first when i saw it and was lowkey pissed since im an oi//kawa oshi lmaooo now it's just funny every time i see it. still crazy to see him lined up with characters like d//io or aiz//en or gri//ffith like damn wwwwww)
Did you know? My favorite character from Monster is Joh//ann Lieb//ert hahahaha nothing important, just wanna say it haha,,,hahaha,,,,, pls ignore if you don't know Monster sdkjfsdhvfsd
🍎Kana: What is the quote between your character and their love interest/whoever they might be shipped with that their fans would latch onto?
The least spoilery thing I can come up with on the spot on is Hibari telling her "You're so stupid (affectionate & relieved)" after she does (and says) something objectively very stupid that could even give YuiRumi&family a heart attack & a stroke simultaneously.
Short, simple, effective. ME, personally, I will lose my mind and latch onto it even on my deathbed.
If you want something that could potentially come from a Kana POV, I do have a quote like this saved:
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🎀Kurumi: What would be the ‘incorrect but wildly popular’ interpretation of your character in fandom?
For Kurumi, I think modern fandom would focus too much on her gender? There would be a divide in the fandom based on how they interpret the "Gender: ?" in her profile lmao We can see a lot of people insisting that she's non-binary. That's fine and all, everyone is free to interpret characters as they like (except if the creator has reiterated clear rules and boundaries for it). The problem is that we can also see people say that you can't refer to her as anything else but non-binary sjdgbhjsdfvhjsbfd
🤖Yui: If your character had a breakout show/film/comic, what would the plot be? Who would be in their supporting cast?
My understanding of this question is that it's asking for a Yui spin-off where he's the MC! It would be in a light novel format under the romantic comedy genre (with some sci-fi, perhaps? because he loves making robots hahaha inb4 it becomes a mecha story). The story's main couple would be him and Hiyori, because that's what Yui would've wanted. He is delusional and down bad.
In terms of shipping, we actually have three main ships we've committed to. It's just that I often end up posting about the two CanonxOC pairs more sjkdfjskdf but the third one is an OCxOC pair between Yui and Hiyori (YuiHiyo). Sowwwwyyy Yui! uwu Hiyorin is holding me at syringe-point and telling me to shut the fuck up about it.
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aromanticasterisms · 8 months ago
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i started this side quest off going girl i cannot POSSIBLY be this stupid. then saw my friends and went oh okay all of this was worth it actually :]
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Joking little comic, I drew ig
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Earth - 42
An earth that should host a spider... person? Being? Anyways, this earth doesn't.
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"My name is Ganke Lee, I live in a world run by criminals... and I'm not talking about the politicians."
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"We do have someone capable of going toe to toe with the criminals. Whether you call him a savior, a murderer, a hero, or a vigilante, whatever you want to call him."
"it's funny... I used to know him. just a year ago, we were friends."
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"Not anymore.."
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"We got into an argument, you know... morality wise,"
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"He viewed it as the only way. I tried to suggest other options, but he shot them down with an admittedly solid argument for why he did what he did."
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wolvertooth · 1 year ago
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ok so im scrolling thru my photos n its just like--
july 25th, reading origins n me drawing the first draft of lynx😇✨
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july 26th, hospital. iv in my arm.
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la-florecita · 1 month ago
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i hate (love) when i find a fic that just sucks you in from the very beginning and read till four in the morning where i have to force myself to sleep and finish it the next day, only to have it end on a cliff hanger
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valyvinny · 1 month ago
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╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:・゚✧*: Losing control ❞
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PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)
The lads boys can't help but lose control around you
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╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb
Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day. 
Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night. 
He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break. 
He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.  
You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours. 
But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle 
“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise. 
But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash. 
He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch. 
Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise. 
“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven. 
The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him. 
You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body. 
You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon. 
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╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus
Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms. 
The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.
“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout. 
Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds. 
However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him. 
He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule. 
Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you. 
He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch. 
He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard. 
It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper. 
His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further. 
So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. 
You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure. 
“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense. 
Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you. 
As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs. 
And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more. 
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╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne
Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon. 
He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him. 
Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.
In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness. 
You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you. 
The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you. 
Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. 
You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent. 
But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant. 
He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips. 
You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air. 
“Please Zayne…kiss me” 
How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly? 
The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you. 
So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally. 
Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.
He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you. 
But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly. 
“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started. 
He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night. 
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╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier
Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires. 
While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it. 
He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so. 
It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting. 
“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears. 
He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter. 
“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone. 
He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease. 
You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them. 
He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 
“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.  
You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now. 
The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you. 
Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place. 
He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting. 
The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin. 
It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself. 
He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips. 
And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined. 
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╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel
There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it. 
Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.  
You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.
And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.   
When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap. 
His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. 
“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin. 
Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him. 
On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks. 
With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you. 
His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them. 
“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath. 
You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably. 
You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length. 
But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface. 
Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination. 
Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants. 
His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans. 
It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you. 
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© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI
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fushitoru · 3 months ago
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the adventures of spider-man! a spiderman!gojo collection
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pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x f!reader
summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?
warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, smut, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, attempt at SA on reader, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied
playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics
a/n AHHH spiderman!gojo m list is here!!! THANK YOU for 10k+ notes on the first oneshot as well as 5k followers :') requests are open for drabbles and suggestions for the next oneshot are also welcome!! comment down below if you'd like to be tagged :)
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long fics
01 ⸺ infect me with your love
02 ⸺ meet me at our spot (soon!)
oneshots
i don't wanna lose this with you
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zepskies · 9 months ago
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Wanderlust
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader
Summary: Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.
AN: My nightly daydreams led me to Soldier Boy this time. 😂
I was imagining the Break Me Down-verse for this one (shortly after Checkerboard), but it can also be general Soldier Boy x Reader.
Word Count: 650
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, innuendo, Sleepy Ben, implied smut.
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You traced down his back with light, trailing fingers.
Lying next to him in bed, with scraps of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds in the window as your only guide, your mind was still drifting even though you should’ve been sleeping.
You couldn’t help yourself.  
You drew invisible patterns across his bare skin. Ben was warm, always warm, even though the AC was making the room almost frigid. You knew it was the ever-present radiator in his chest that made him your own personal heater.
You propped your head up better with an elbow on your pillow as you laid on your side. You then let your hand drift over every dip of muscle between his shoulders, every small freckle you knew just from memory, then down and down his spine.
You flirted with the idea of inching down the sheets, where his bare ass would greet you. From there, you supposed you'd decide what wandering direction your hand took next.
“If you don’t go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled, “I’m gonna wake up and fuck you again.”
You bit your lip against a giggle, but you didn’t quite succeed.
“It sounds like you’re already awake,” you remarked.
Ben grumbled incoherently in response. He was tired, you knew. He’d just come back from a week-long mission with Butcher and Co. for Supe Affairs. Hence the long night you two spent catching up.
If you were honest, you were still tingling between your legs. Your thighs and ass were a little sore too. Likely they’d be sporting a few fingerprints tomorrow.
You didn't mind it so much though. You two now had a safe word for that kind of thing.
You smirked, sifting your fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. Maybe you’d trim it for him tomorrow, since you both had the weekend off.  
Your hand meandered down the back of his neck, just to begin dragging your nails up and down the slope of his back.
“What does that feel like to you?” you asked curiously. You often wondered how much his invulnerability affected the way he felt things, especially the way you touched him.
“Like a tease,” he muttered.
You applied some more pressure with your nails. Not the way you’d scored his back about an hour ago, when he’d had his sinful mouth all over your body, but enough to be more than a tease. Enough that it would’ve left an angry, red trail on your own “fragile” human skin.
Still, you weren’t able to leave any marks on him. Just a faint whiteness of pressure against his skin that soon returned to normal when you moved your hand away.
“How about that?” you asked.
“Like you’re playing with fucking fire,” Ben said, though you heard the smirk in his voice. “Go to sleep.”
You smiled too.
“We'll pick this up in the morning,” he made sure to add, though he was already halfway back to slumber, from the sound of it.
“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, laughing lightly. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder. “G’night, babe.”
“Mhmm,” he responded.
He groaned deep in his throat and turned over onto his back. Your smile remained as your body tensed in anticipation, but all he did was slide an arm under your waist and curl you towards him, trapping you against his chest. His hand splayed against your lower back, heavy and warm.
His lips brushed your hair away from your forehead and lingered there. He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. You did the same, relaxing against him. Your hand came to rest against the steady thrum of his heart.
Moments like this with him still managed to surprise you…but admittedly, less and less the longer you lived and shared together.
A girl could get used to it though.
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AN: Lol should she have pressed her luck? Let me know what you think of this one! 😉💚
Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:
Next we have a little hurt/comfort drabble, A Simple Touch:
Summary: Annie still has reservations about Ben, and you dating him for that matter…until she sees it.
▶️ Next Story: A Simple Touch
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD Tag List (Part 1):
Including the BMD tag list on this, since that's what my heart was imagining. 😂
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28
@nancymcl @ashbatz @vavafaure1994 @kristophalis @wonderland2022
@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky
@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun
@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420
@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx
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Alr, uh, since as of right now, slugterra is winning the poll, and Shadowslugger is the au you guys want information on. Here are some of the tidbits I wrote down.
A slug-slinging competition is help every year, I think that's Canon but whatever.
Kord, Trixie, and Pronto meet at the competition (this completion takes place when Eli is fifteen). None of them made it to the final round, but they made friends.
Kord, Trixie, and Pronto become a little adventuring group, and about 9 months later, they stumble into the place where Will is (I think it was called corrupted caverns idk) they bring him with and he kinda joins their group making the Shane gang once Will has recovered Energy from being in the corrupted caverns. Eventually, three months later, Will Shane is ready to return to protecting the caverns, and he enters the competition to get his name out there to inspire hope. No one really believes that he is who he is until halfway through the competition. Burpy is also with Will. He kind of starts off like Eli did in the series, with only Burpy at his side.
And now to Eli's party of the story.
When Will was sent to the corrupted caverns, Eli was two. Eli's guardian, at this time, I might just say the guardian is Eli's cousin, brings Eli to slugterra to search for Will after he misses the time to visit. A resulting confrontation with Dr Blakk's men results in at least one more missing member of the family. The cousin isn't important, so they might just not re surface, but the important thing is that Eli is captured by Dr Blakk's men.
Eli escapes his capture with a member of the Shadow clan, who had been there longer than Eli. When this happens, Eli is about five.
He is raised by the Shadow clan, but he knows some Human-like slugterrans. He does have a rather close friendship with a human named Anthony
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nymphoniah · 5 months ago
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wonderful tonight | logan howlett
pairing: old man!logan x younger!reader
i’m yearning for old man!logan so fuckin’ badddd. just been thinking about curling up next to him in bed, resting your head in his lap while he’s propped upright, smoking a cigar.
content/tags: domesticity, pet names, hints of sexual content, just very fluffy tbh lol, implied age gap (logan is >200 years old, reader is in their 20’s).
one hand is occupied with rubbing finger eights with his thumb along your jawline, and the other is pinching the spine and pages of the book he’s reading. the cigar rests in the corner of his mouth, and he releases the occasional puff to let the smoke out.
he always pays attention to his girl. he’ll make sure of it. whether he’s busy or tired, he’ll always make time for you.
and right now, that’s petting you like you’re his own little cat, which isn’t too far off of a description—with every caress of his calloused fingers against your face, you’re mewling. all you need to do is grow a tail.
“such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, huffing out some smoke. he glances down at you, pinching your cheek before he moves his hand away from you to rest his cigar on the ashtray.
licking his index finger and thumb, he then flips to the next page of his book, looking down at the contents through his glasses.
“logan…” you whine, tugging at the hem of his shirt in an attempt to get his attention.
“don’t think i forgot about you, darlin’” he chuckles, running a hand through your hair, ruffling it slightly.
he folds the corner of the page of his book and stows it away on the beside table.
“now show your old man some sugar,” he lulls, patting his thighs for you to sit on.
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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago
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Hello could I please request a fic where maybe the team doesnt like reader at first?
Winning Over the Kids [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]
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Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4.5k|| AN: Thank you for the request; I love seeing all of them come in <3 Feedback is also always welcomed! xx
Tags/Warnings: implied age-gap, reader is a forensic psychologist, no use of y/n, secret relationship, team dislikes reader at first, protective Hotch, no mention of Jack--so up to you if he exists or not lol, mirroring the Lo-Fi vibes with Kate Joyner/Hotch/Team, canon-typical themes, some fluff, team dynamics, established relationship
Sypnosis: When Erin Strauss contracts a forensic psychologist to work with the BAU Team, Aaron Hotchner isn't sure if he is more frustrated with the fact that they dislike you as their newest team member or as his secret girlfriend.
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Aaron Hotchner had spent years mastering the art of control. His team relied on him to remain composed under pressure, a steady anchor in chaos. But when Erin Strauss informed him that she was contracting a forensic psychologist to assist the BAU, he felt his resolve stretch thin. Not because he doubted the decision—he knew you were exceptional—but because the team didn’t know the full story.
You were brilliant, sharp, and confident. You had risen through the ranks faster than most, your reputation built on precision and expertise. Yet, whispers of you being a “workaholic” and “cutthroat” followed you, a product of stereotypes surrounding young, successful women in high-stakes fields. Aaron had seen it before, but it infuriated him nonetheless, especially now that you were his… well, not officially, but close enough to feel the sting of those judgments on your behalf.
At the morning briefing, he broke the news. “The Bureau has decided to bring in a forensic psychologist to collaborate with us on our cases. She’ll be joining us starting tomorrow.”
Predictably, the room bristled.
“A shrink? Really?” Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “No offense, Hotch, but we kind of know how to read people.”
Emily Prentiss folded her arms. “Isn’t that the point of profiling? What does Strauss think we’ve been doing all this time?”
JJ added carefully, “Is this about our mental health? Are we supposed to… talk to her?”
Spencer Reid, ever the analyst, frowned. “I’ve read that forensic psychologists in consulting roles often critique operational dynamics. Could this be Strauss trying to monitor us?”
Aaron kept his face neutral, though he wanted to correct them all. You were nothing like what they imagined. “This isn’t about our capabilities. The psychologist has specific expertise in complex cases involving psychological manipulation. Her role is to supplement our efforts, not replace them.”
“Yeah, until she starts picking apart everything we do,” Derek muttered.
Aaron resisted the urge to snap. They didn’t know you yet. They didn’t see the meticulous care you put into every decision, or the softer moments when you let your guard down with him.
The next day, you arrived at Quantico with a polished confidence that turned heads. Ready to take on the next case, which was local to the BAU. 
You greeted the team with a professional demeanor, offering a firm handshake and an easy smile. But the tension was palpable. The team’s skepticism hung in the air like a storm cloud, and Aaron felt his jaw tighten as he observed their guarded reactions.
Derek kept his distance, observing you with a critical eye. Emily was polite but cool, and even JJ seemed uncertain about how to approach you. Spencer avoided eye contact altogether. Rossi…well, Rossi seemed to sit back and take it all in. 
“Let’s get to work,” Aaron said, more curtly than he intended, leading the group into the roundtable room.
You took a seat beside him, your notebook open and pen poised. “I’ve reviewed the case files,” you began, your voice steady and self-assured. “The unsub’s behavior suggests a deep-seated fear of abandonment, likely rooted in childhood trauma. But the escalation pattern indicates recent stressors. Have you explored potential triggers within the last six months?”
Reid blinked, clearly taken aback. “We—uh, we considered family dynamics, but we didn’t narrow the timeline that specifically.”
Your sharp gaze turned to him, not unkindly. “It’s worth revisiting. The timeline could give us a better idea of who influenced him most recently.”
Aaron noticed the way Reid shifted uncomfortably, and it grated on him. You were offering valuable insights, yet the team’s resistance was evident.
After the briefing, Derek muttered to Emily, loud enough for Aaron to hear, “Well, she doesn’t waste time, does she?”
Aaron’s patience wore thin. “Morgan, a word,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
In his office, Aaron shut the door and faced Derek. “What’s your problem with her?”
Derek raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t say anything she didn’t earn. She walks in here acting like she knows everything. What do you expect us to do—roll out the red carpet?”
“I expect you to treat her with the same respect you’d give any other professional,” Aaron snapped. “She’s here because she’s the best at what she does, and we need her expertise. Whatever preconceived notions you have, leave them at the door.”
Derek frowned but nodded. “Got it, Hotch.”
Aaron exhaled slowly after Derek left. He knew he couldn’t shield you completely, but it infuriated him that he had to watch you navigate the team’s cold reception.
That evening, after everyone had gone home, you found Aaron in his office. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, crossing your arms. “So, how bad was it?”
He looked up from his desk, his expression softening. “They’ll come around.”
You smirked, though your eyes held a flicker of vulnerability. “I’m not holding my breath.”
Aaron stood and walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to prove yourself to them. I know who you are, and eventually, they will too.”
You tilted your head, a teasing smile breaking through. “Is that your way of saying you’re proud of me, Agent Hotchner?”
He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Always.”
For a moment, the weight of the day lifted. Here, behind closed doors, you didn’t have to be the prodigy or the psychologist with a reputation. You were just you, and Aaron was fiercely determined to make sure the team saw that too—someday.
The next morning, as Aaron walked into Quantico, he noticed a huddle forming near Penelope’s desk. Derek, Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Penelope stood together, their voices low but animated. He had planned to keep walking, but a snippet of their conversation caught his attention.
“I’m telling you, I heard she’s impossible to work with,” Penelope whispered, her usual warmth absent.
“Yeah, and she’s already showing it,” Derek added. “Control issues, first day on the job.”
“So far, It’s just one case,” Emily said, though her tone was skeptical. “But she’s definitely… intense.”
“We don’t need someone analyzing us while we’re trying to profile an unsub,” JJ muttered.
“I don’t think she’s here for that,” Reid said hesitantly. “But… yeah, I’ve heard the whispers too.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened as he listened. He wanted to intervene, to defend you, but he bit his tongue. This wasn’t the time. Instead, he walked away, the sting of their words lingering. He felt almost betrayed. His team was usually better than this. They prided themselves on fairness, on seeing beyond the surface. But in this case, they were clinging to gossip and prejudice, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.
When you arrived, you carried yourself with the same poise and determination Aaron admired. You greeted the team briefly, your no-nonsense demeanor firmly in place. “Let’s get to work,” you said, spreading the case files across the conference table.
Your approach was methodical and efficient, and though Aaron knew it was how you operated, he could see how it rubbed the team the wrong way. They weren’t used to outsiders, especially not ones who came in with your level of authority and expertise. But they were professionals, and they pushed their reservations aside as the case progressed.
Aaron watched you closely throughout the day. You were unflinching in your analysis, your insights sharp and accurate. When you spoke, your voice carried confidence, but he could sense the subtle edge in your tone—a shield you had learned to wield over years of proving yourself.
After the case briefing wrapped up, Aaron found you in one of the quieter corners of the office. You were reviewing your notes, your expression focused but unreadable.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice low.
You glanced up, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’m fine, Aaron. It’s not my first rodeo.”
He stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “I’ve heard some of the things they’ve said,” he admitted. “They don’t know you, and they’re wrong. I’m sorry for how unwelcoming they’ve been.”
You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “You don’t have to apologize for them. I get it. They’re protective of their team, and I’m an outsider. It’ll take time.”
“It shouldn’t have to,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. He softened, adding, “You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to them.”
Your smile widened, though there was a flicker of something softer in your eyes. “I’ve been proving myself my whole life, Aaron. This is nothing new. Besides, I’ve got you in my corner, right?”
“Always,” he said without hesitation.
For a moment, the weight of the day lifted, and he allowed himself to take comfort in your resilience. But as he returned to the team, he resolved to address their behavior. They needed to see you for who you truly were—and he wouldn’t rest until they did.
During the next case you assisted on, the tension had been simmering all day, and Aaron could feel it building like a storm. You had just delivered a sharp, insightful breakdown of the unsub’s likely behavior patterns, pointing out inconsistencies in the case file that had gone unnoticed. It was the kind of analysis that would have earned respect from anyone else, but not today. Not from this team, not yet.
The briefing room was quiet for a moment after you finished speaking. Emily exchanged a glance with Derek, and JJ tapped her pen against the table, her lips pressed into a thin line. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating.
“That’s… an interesting perspective,” Derek said, leaning back in his chair. His tone was polite, but Aaron caught the subtle edge, the unspoken doubt.
You didn’t falter. “It’s not just a perspective,” you replied, your voice calm and measured. “The data supports it. If you cross-reference the victimology with the geographic profile—”
“We get it,” Emily interrupted, her tone sharper than usual. “But we’ve been doing this a long time. We know how to read behavior.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened. He glanced at you, but your expression remained composed, even as he could see the faint tension in your posture. You nodded slightly, as if conceding the point, and continued reviewing the case files without another word.
The meeting wrapped soon after, but Aaron lingered behind, pretending to organize his notes. That’s when he heard it.
“I don’t know how much longer I can deal with her,” Emily muttered as the others gathered near the coffee station. “She’s so… clinical. It’s like she doesn’t even care about the victims, just the data.”
“She’s got control issues, for sure,” Derek added. “Like she’s got something to prove.”
JJ sighed. “Maybe Strauss sent her to micromanage us. I mean, why else would she be here? We’re already the best at what we do.”
Aaron slammed his folder shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. The team froze, turning to see him standing there, his expression dark and unreadable.
“Enough,” he said, his voice low but laced with unmistakable anger. He stepped toward them, his gaze sweeping over each of them. “I don’t know what’s more disappointing--your lack of professionalism or your willingness to tear someone down based on assumptions and gossip.”
The team exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke.
“You think she’s here to micromanage you? She’s here to help. And the fact that you can’t see the value in her insights says more about your egos than it does about her methods.”
“Hotch, we didn’t mean—” JJ started, but he cut her off.
“No,” he said firmly. “You did mean it. And if you spent half as much energy working with her as you do undermining her, we’d be a hell of a lot closer to catching this unsub.”
The room fell silent. Aaron rarely raised his voice, and when he did, it carried the weight of finality. He let the silence hang for a moment before he continued.
“She’s not here to prove herself to you. She’s already proven herself, time and time again. It’s time for you to rise to her level, not drag her down to yours.”
With that, he turned and walked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he’d have to address this further later, but for now, he needed to find you. He wanted to make sure you were okay to remind you, in whatever small way he could, that he was still in your corner. Always.
Aaron Hotchner found you where he expected to: in one of the unused offices, deep in thought over the case files. You were perched on the edge of the desk, flipping through pages with a sharp focus that never failed to impress him. The tension he’d carried since leaving the briefing room eased slightly when he saw how calm you were.
You didn’t even look up when he stepped inside. “Didn’t expect you to find me so quickly,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
Aaron leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I needed to check in. The team…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “They were out of line.”
That made you pause. You glanced up at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Aaron, it’s fine,” you said, setting the file down. “I’ve been in this position before. People don’t like change, and they don’t like outsiders. I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t have to be,” he replied, his voice firmer than he intended. “It’s not fair, and it’s not professional.”
You tilted your head, studying him in that way you always did when you were about to cut through the noise. “They don’t know, Aaron. About us.” Your tone was even, but there was a hint of something deeper there--not accusation, just acknowledgment.
He stiffened slightly, but nodded. “They don’t. And I’d prefer to keep it that way. For now.”
You let out a quiet hum, leaning back on your hands. “For now, sure. But you should think about it. They’re already questioning why you’re defending me. If they find out later that it’s because we’re involved, it won’t sit well with them. They’ll feel like you’ve been hiding something important.”
“They’ll feel betrayed,” Aaron said, the weight of the truth settling over him.
You nodded, a small, knowing smile on your face. “Exactly. Look, I can handle their doubts, their gossip, whatever they want to throw at me. But you need to decide how long you want to keep this a secret. They’re your team. They’re loyal to you. But they also need to trust you.”
Aaron stepped further into the room, his expression softening as he regarded you. “You don’t care what they think of you, do you?”
“Not even a little,” you said with a shrug, your confidence steady. “I’ve spent years dealing with this kind of thing. It’s not new, and it doesn’t bother me. What does bother me,” you added, meeting his eyes, “is the idea of this coming out later and making things harder for you. Or for us.”
Aaron let out a slow breath, running a hand over the back of his neck. You were right, of course. You always were. He couldn’t keep this from his team forever, and things with you had grown too serious for him to pretend otherwise. He had never been one to let his personal life interfere with his work, but this was different. You were different.
“This is serious,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
You arched a brow, a teasing smile breaking through. “Wow, Aaron. Way to make a girl feel special.”
He stepped closer, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “You know what I mean. Things are serious between us. You’re not going anywhere, and neither is the team. I need to find a way to make this work.”
You softened, your hand brushing against his as he stood next to you. “You will. They’ll come around, Aaron. And if they don’t, well…” You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting in a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere either.”
Aaron felt a warmth spread through him, a rare sense of peace in the midst of the chaos. You were right, as always. He would figure it out--not just because he had to, but because you were worth it.
And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that it would all work out.
Aaron Hotchner had always believed in leading by example. Transparency, fairness, and honesty were core tenets of how he ran his team, and they had rewarded him with loyalty and mutual respect. But as he stood in the conference room, waiting for his team to gather for an unscheduled meeting, he knew he had failed to uphold one of those principles.
The team filtered in, curiosity and unease written across their faces. JJ and Emily exchanged glances, Reid clutched his ever-present notebook, and Derek leaned against the edge of the table with his arms crossed. Penelope, usually lighthearted, looked slightly nervous. Rossi lingered at the back, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought.
When the door closed, Aaron cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. “I asked you all here because there’s something I need to address—something I should have told you from the beginning.”
The team straightened, their collective focus sharpening. Aaron had their attention.
“You’ve all expressed concerns about having a forensic psychologist embedded in the team,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “You’ve questioned her presence, her methods, and, frankly, her character. Some of those comments have been professional disagreements, but others have crossed the line. I’ve let it continue longer than I should have, and for that, I take responsibility.”
Emily shifted uncomfortably while Morgan frowned. Reid’s brow furrowed in confusion, his pen tapping lightly against his notebook. Rossi, though silent, tilted his head slightly, a knowing look flickering across his face.
Aaron met each of their gazes in turn, his tone unwavering. “The reason I know she’s good at her job—why I trust her, and why I know she’s not here to spy on us or undermine our work—is because I’ve been seeing her outside of work. For a while now.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Reid blinked rapidly, his pen freezing mid-air. JJ’s mouth opened slightly as if to speak, and Penelope let out a small, involuntary gasp. Derek sat up straighter, his brows furrowed in disbelief. Emily’s eyes widened, but she quickly masked her surprise. Rossi, however, didn’t look shocked at all. Instead, his lips quirked into the faintest of smirks, as though confirming a suspicion.
“I had no say in her placement on this team,” Aaron continued, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Strauss made the decision, and she made it clear that the reason is simple: she’s the best. You’ve seen it for yourselves, even if you haven’t wanted to admit it. Her insights have already helped move this case forward. She is not your enemy, nor is she here to judge you.”
He paused, letting his words sink in. “I didn’t disclose our relationship because I wanted to keep our personal lives separate from our professional ones. But as your Unit Chief and as her partner, I will not tolerate disrespect toward her—whether it’s behind her back or to her face.”
Reid, finally finding his voice, asked hesitantly, “Does she…know about us? I mean, our dynamics, our methods? Or does she see us as part of the problem?”
Aaron’s expression softened slightly as he addressed the question. “She knows exactly who you are and how good you are at what you do. She’s here to help you do your jobs better, not to interfere. But she also deserves the same respect you’d give any other member of this team.”
Rossi finally spoke, his tone measured. “And you think telling us this now is going to smooth things over?” His words weren’t accusatory, but they carried weight.
“I think,” Aaron replied, meeting Rossi’s gaze, “that you deserved to know the truth. And I think it’s time we focus on the job at hand rather than creating divisions that don’t need to exist.”
The silence lingered until Derek broke it. “Hotch, we didn’t mean to—”
Aaron held up a hand. “I know you didn’t mean harm, but intentions don’t erase the impact. This team works because we trust each other. That trust goes both ways. If there’s something you need to say, say it to me or to her directly. Gossip and disrespect have no place here.”
JJ nodded, her expression softening. “You’re right. We were out of line. I think…I think we just felt blindsided.”
Aaron’s tone eased, though it remained firm. “I understand. Change isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. You’ll see soon enough why she’s here. Until then, I need your cooperation.”
Emily exchanged a glance with Morgan, then nodded. “We’ll work on it. I promise.”
Rossi gave a small nod of approval, his smirk gone but his understanding clear. “She’s good, Aaron. I’ve seen it. Let’s make sure the rest of the team sees it too.”
Reid looked thoughtful, his pen tapping rhythmically again. “I think we can…adjust. If she’s here to make us better, that’s not a bad thing.”
Aaron gave a single nod, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good. That’s all I wanted to say. Dismissed.”
As the team filed out, murmuring quietly among themselves, Rossi lingered behind. “You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “you could’ve just told me this a week ago.”
Aaron allowed himself the faintest smile. “Would it have made a difference?”
“Probably not,” Rossi said with a shrug, “but it would’ve saved you the speech.” With that, he left, leaving Aaron alone to gather his thoughts.
For now, he had taken the first step. And he could only hope it was enough.
Over the next few days, Aaron began to notice subtle shifts in his team’s behavior toward you. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it dramatic, but the signs were there. During case briefings, they no longer exchanged skeptical glances when you spoke. Instead, they began nodding along or even asking follow-up questions. Derek, who had been one of the most vocal skeptics, offered a rare compliment about your interrogation technique after a successful suspect interview.
“She’s got a way of getting under people’s skin,” Morgan admitted to Rossi when he thought Aaron wasn’t listening. “In a good way, I guess.”
Aaron didn’t respond, but he tucked the comment away, feeling an unspoken sense of satisfaction.
Even Reid, who had initially kept his distance, began peppering you with questions about your graduate work. You seemed to enjoy indulging him, discussing obscure psychological theories with the same enthusiasm he brought to the conversation. JJ and Emily followed suit, no longer as guarded, and Penelope—while still wary—had gone out of her way to show you how to use the BAU’s internal systems.
Aaron observed it all with quiet pride. His team was warming up to you, just as he had hoped, and it wasn’t because he’d told them to—it was because of you. Your intelligence, your confidence, and your ability to adapt were slowly breaking down the barriers they’d put up.
That evening, as the two of you wrapped up some paperwork in his office, you leaned back in your chair and smirked at him. “You know,” you said, your voice light with amusement, “you’re enjoying this way too much.”
Aaron looked up from his file, one brow raised. “Enjoying what?”
“You’re like the team dad,” you teased, crossing your arms. “All broody and protective, wanting the stepmom to be liked by the kids.”
He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, low and rich. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” you shot back, grinning. “Because I think you’ve been paying more attention to their approval ratings for me than I have.”
He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head but still smiling. “Maybe. But only because I know how much they mean to you—and how much you mean to me. I want this to work.”
Your expression softened, and for a moment, the teasing dropped. “It already is, Aaron. You don’t have to worry.”
His smile lingered as he looked at you, the tension that had been weighing on him for weeks finally starting to lift.
The real sign of progress came at the end of the week. The team had just wrapped up a grueling case, and as everyone packed up their things, Derek clapped his hands together.
“Alright, we’re going out. Drinks, food, and maybe a little dancing. Who’s in?”
JJ and Emily immediately agreed, and Reid nodded hesitantly, though he muttered something about “just one drink.” Rossi chuckled but offered a quick “Count me in.” Penelope looked around, her bright demeanor back in full force. “Where are we going? And more importantly, is there karaoke?”
Derek laughed. “No promises, Garcia.”
Then, almost casually, JJ turned to you. “You should come,” she said, her tone friendly and genuine. “You’ve had a long week too. You deserve to relax a little.”
Aaron didn’t miss the slight hesitation in your posture before you smiled. “I might take you up on that.”
“Good,” JJ said, already texting someone. “It’ll be fun.”
Aaron stayed silent, watching the moment unfold. The invitation wasn’t forced or reluctant—it was sincere. It was an olive branch, extended without fanfare, and he could tell by the look on your face that you recognized it for what it was.
As the team began filing out, chatting about where to go, you lingered by his desk. “That was unexpected,” you said quietly, glancing at him with a small smile.
“They’re coming around,” Aaron replied, his voice equally soft. “I told you they would.”
You smirked. “Well, Dad, looks like the kids like the stepmom after all.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood. “Let’s just hope I can keep them from embarrassing us tonight.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” you teased, grabbing your bag. “Now, come on. You’ve got to show me if Unit Chief Hotchner can actually let loose.”
As you both headed out to join the others, Aaron felt a rare lightness in his chest. Things were falling into place—his team, you, everything. And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to enjoy it. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago
Text
relax
in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment
18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!
You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 
“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 
“Hello to you too...” 
“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 
“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 
“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  
“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 
“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 
“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 
“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  
“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 
“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 
“I’m literally offering to help you.” 
“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 
Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  
“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 
“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 
“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  
The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  
“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 
You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  
But the essay... 
“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 
“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 
“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 
“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  
Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  
“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 
Oh? 
One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 
“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 
“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 
“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 
Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?
You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 
“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  
“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...
“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 
“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 
“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 
“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 
“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 
Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 
Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 
“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 
But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  
An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 
You flush. 
“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  
Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  
“I made you cum three times, right?” 
“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 
“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 
You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 
“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 
You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  
“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  
He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 
“Yeah,�� you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 
“Who’s that for?” 
“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  
Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 
“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 
Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 
“Look at that,” he breathes. 
“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 
Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  
“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 
“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 
“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  
You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 
“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 
“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 
“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 
“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 
“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 
“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 
You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  
“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 
A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 
The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  
“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 
His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  
Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 
“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 
Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 
A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 
Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 
“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 
“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 
You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  
“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  
“Feel better?” 
You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 
“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 
You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 
“What kind of tears?” 
“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 
“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 
Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 
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