#and engagement is gonna be even lower than usual so whats the point if no one's gonna see this anyway-

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

dw dw bud!! im takin care of myself as best as a lil rat can :] pretty excited for the 18th!!

and OUGH i hope you’re able to relax soon D: that’s so much stuff, good gracious

im rootin for ya tho, and sending you all the good vibes :]

as for paper’d! i’m keepin an eye on them! makin sure she takes care of herself n all, seein if she’s ight, and as far as i know, they’re doin ok!! im hopin everythin is okay still, tho, im worried too ngl

but WAGAAGH SQUEEZES YOU it’s so good to hear from you again!

THANK YOUU SM BROO both for checking on me and for making sure paper'd's doing great!! You're such a cool goose man muah muah 😔<3333

[tc-doherty]

TC's Practical Writing Tips

Like I said before, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I can teach anyone how to write – that's a level of hubris even I'm not capable of –but in honor of my rapidly approaching ~quarter century of writing original fiction anniversary~, I did figure I would share the tips that I live by when it comes to the act of writing.

So without further ado:

Write it now, fix it later

2. It is always permissible – and usually enjoyable – to write the stupidest possible version

3. "Inspiration" is great for poets, but poison for people who write prose

3.1: if you want to write often, you need to write often, and then you will find that you don't need to be "inspired" because you will have made a habit of it and it will come naturally 3.2: even one sentence a day is still one sentence a day. And even one sentence a week is still one sentence a week. It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop 3.3: believing in the concept that you need to be inspired to write will trap you into believing in the concept of writer's block 3.4: if you are having difficulty getting out words that satisfy you, lower your standards and keep writing (see point one)

4. A few months down the line you will not remember which words came easily and which words did not

5. It is always permissible to set a project aside for now, or forever, if you need a break

6. Read widely and often, both in your favorite genres and outside of them

6.1: pay special attention to both things that you love and things that you hate - study them, engage with them, learn what makes yourself tick and your writing can only get stronger

7. Never write for the lowest common denominator, via wise words I once heard: "if you open the window and make love to the world, your story will get pneumonia", have an audience in mind and the people who like what you write will find it

8. Never write for the bad faith critic, those people will always exist and you will need to deal with them at some point if you put your writing in the world, but they don't matter and you cannot live in fear of them

9. It's fine and normal to want engagement and praise, however you must find a way to make the act of writing joyful in and of itself – make the praise the cherry on top, not the entire sunday

9.1: writing is hard work, and it's a lot of work, if you lose the ability to enjoy the journey and are proceeding only for external rewards from others, you will gradually write less and less if the ratio of work to rewards is unsatisfying

10. For anything other than final copy editing, always write a new draft into a new document, or else the words you have already written will trap you from being able to make large, sweeping changes

10.1: any change you make will invariably snowball, and you must give space for that snowball to roll

11. If someone tells you that something doesn't work for them, believe them, because people know what they like. But if people try to tell you what to do to fix it, take that with an entire serving of salt because you are the author, not them

12. It is always morally correct to look at a critique that you received, even if you asked for opinions via beta reading, and decide that it's bullshit and doesn't apply to you

13. "write what you know" means "write what you're interested in"

14. "Show don't tell" applies to screenwriting, not novels. This is the thing that drives me the most insane every time I see it. Novels are words on a page, not images on a screen. They require a lot of telling. Not all telling, but a lot of telling. Become comfortable with that.

15. It is always, ALWAYS acceptable to use "said", do not listen to the lies of others

16. Have fun, do it out of love and you will never go astray

17. Become comfortable with who you are. Your work is always going to be yours and it is always going to sound like you wrote it, and this is a good thing! No one else is ever going to write exactly like you, and you should be proud of that

17.1: the concept of "originality" is vastly overrated, every culture has some version of Cinderella and we still love it. Your writing is yours because you wrote it, and it will always be unique because of that

[thepersonnamedsam]

heyy🤍

I was wondering if u could kindly write a little something about period cuddles and comfort with lando, thank you in advanceee

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: headcanons about period cuddles with lando

warnings: period pains, blood

note: i am so sorry it took me sooooo long to write your request!!! pls accept my apology, please!!!!

masterlist / taglist

it had started again, your period

what it meant for you was; pain, pain and more pain, it was unbearable

800mg of ibuprofen every 6 hours, warmth and curled up either in bed or on the couch was usually the solution for the week

when lando wasn’t around

if lando was there (which usually wasn’t the case), you cuddled - always

„baby, please let me help you, i can’t stand to see you in pain“

you smiled through your pain and just told him to go and buy your favourite snack

he called carlos - he for sure has some womanly advice for the youngster

c: „why did you not cuddle with her, cabrón?“

l: „she didn’t offer it, i didn’t want to overstep“

as he returned home with more than half the store, he slowly approached you

„baby? are you sleeping? do you want cuddles?“

you whined and nodded your head

„c‘mere baby“

his arms snaked around your abdomen, his warm hands rested on your lower belly, massaging lightly, trying to ease your pain

„does it feel good? am i doing something wrong?“

you told him he did everything right, which he let out a sigh

his body warmth made you feel sleepy

„just go to sleep, baby, i’ll be here when you wake up, promise“

his steady breath and light massaging let you fall asleep easily

your breath slowed and your eyes closed, lando knew you were finally asleep

he didn’t want to get up, but your hot water bottle had started to get cold

so he got up as slowly and as silently as he good, without waking you up

the hot water bottle was taken out of your grip and lando started to boil water in the kettle

he also tried to make you some sort of dessert, but he failed miserably

he put the now freshly hot water bottle in your grip again and turned on the tv

when you woke up, your favourite series was paused on the screen and lando was just scrolling through instagram

„good morning baby, how was your sleep, you in any pain?“

you nodded and he handed you a cold glass of water and the next batch of ibuprofen

„has it been 6 hours already“, you has asked him

„yeah, i got this period app where it lets you document your medication. now i always know when your next periods gonna be“

you were surprised about his engagement

actually you weren’t, he’s your boyfriend and a bloody good one at that

but it’s still lando

„press play already!“, you demanded

„alright“, he laughed and pressed play on the remote

he lightly started to caress your neck with soft kisses

a kiss there

a kiss here

it felt so good

„please don’t stop baby“

„never.“

you could never survive another period without lando

even if that meant travelling to grand prixs with him and sharing his time with racing

but it didn’t matter, because he was still as affectionate as ever and never stopped comforting you through your pain

even when you started crying over charles dsq in texas

he brought you to the ferrari garage to comfort charles - more for your comfort, but it didn’t matter

charles had to promise you, that he was fine and that he’s not gonna quit and accidentally end up on a ranch as a cowboy

lando thanked charles multiple times that day

or when you saw a little kid tumble and fall to the ground - you instantly started crying with the kid

lando hugged you and promised to help the little kid (even tho he was cackling up inside)

or when he had to get roscoe from lewis, because you needed cuddles but the race was about to start

you watched the race from his drivers room and cried when he drove into the points

you could get very emotional

but lando loved that about you

let’s be honest, that man loved everything about you

he still wasn’t sure how you were his girlfriend (lando norrizz)

but you loved him very much

°°°

@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraur , @heartmetaphor , @darleneslane , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

You’re Beautiful and Sick Like Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: The Quarry

Warnings: None

Summary: Even the toughest of the tough just need a gentle touch now and again.

*gif is not mine

“What crawled up your ass?” You asked, continuing to pin up the laundry on the sad little line Merle had set up for you. You practically had to twist his arm and, in retaliation, he had placed it just high enough that you had to stand on your tip-toes to get anything done. 

Daryl had returned from hunting, pacing and running a hand through his short hair. You could guess it had to do with the lack of deer beside the fire pit. 

“Goddamn geek got my deer.” He spat, vibrating with frustration but still taking the time to place his crossbow next to his tent almost tenderly. Then it was back to pacing. You watched your boyfriend with an arched brow, finally abandoning your task with a sigh when it became clear he was going to create a ditch. 

“Come over here.” You stood behind the stump you three used for a chair more often than not. Narrowed blue eyes slid over to regard you but he made no move to comply. “What? You think I’m gonna shank you or something? Come here.”

With a quiet ‘pfft’, he stalked over and stopped in front of you, head tilted questioningly. “What is it?”

“Sit.” You pointed to the stump. 

“Ain’t a dog.” Daryl huffed, kicking at a rock. 

Rolling your eyes, you reached across the space between you and grabbed the front of his tank top, pulling him forward so that you could grab his shoulders and spin him. He got the point and plopped down on the stump. Before he could ask, you placed your hands halfway between his shoulders and neck and began to knead the muscles there. Any snide comment died on his tongue as his head fell forward. 

“That sucks about the deer.” You placated quietly, using your thumbs to really press into some knots you felt in his tense shoulders. “Not much you can do about it now though.” 

“Don’t need ya to shrink me right now. If you’re just—”

Utterly nonplussed, you tightened your grip on his shoulders when he made to stand, pushing him back down with an ‘oomph.’ 

“Woman, I swear—”

“Stop being so grumpy and let me take care of you. No one’s watching.” You ran your fingertips down the length of his spine before pressing into the muscles of his lower back. The moan he let out had his face flushing all the way to the tips of his ears. You were thankful he couldn’t see your cheeky grin. 

You, Daryl, and Merle had joined up with this little group not long after the first corpse started walking. The boys had intended to rob the occupants blind and then you would all disappear and move on to the next. It was your initial apprehension after seeing the kids that gave Daryl pause, eventually leading him to approach Merle with the decision to just stick around. Merle hadn’t liked the idea. In fact, he was quite vocal about it. You had stood on the sidelines with your pistol, just waiting to shoot the elder Dixon in the foot if he raised a hand toward Daryl. 

Daryl had taken to hunting for everyone, unable to stand the thought of the children going hungry. He’d never say so out loud but he didn’t have to. You knew. The burden he had placed upon himself kept him busy, which in turn kept him away from most social engagement. He was never much of a talker. 

But now, the enemy had taken the day’s dinner. Merle’s group had arrived back from a run to the city at some point, though you had yet to lay eyes on Merle himself. They had, however, brought back a stranger. What’s more, Daryl only managed to bring back enough squirrels for maybe a stew. He’d have to go greet his brother in a moment. You’d accompany him, of course. 

For now, you had a moment to show him some tenderness he’d usually never allow outside of your tent. Your palms slid up to his shoulder blades, thumbs pressing in circular motions to help the muscles relax. His head was hanging, shoulders slowly dropping down from where they had been tensed nearly to his ears. 

You could literally feel the tension drain as the stress he carried began to release its hold. He hadn’t moaned again but the sighs and grunts were enough to let you know you were doing a good job. As you rubbed up over his shoulders again, he tilted his head to nuzzle his cheek across your knuckles, reminding you of a cat showing affection. 

Still kneading at the junction of his neck and shoulder, you leaned in closer. “Let’s go say hi to Merle and get it over with, okay?”

His eyes opened and blinked lazily. You thought he may have been content to stay on that log for the rest of the day, but sadly, you were right. Grunting at the loss of your touch, he pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the string of squirrels. He took a step but stopped and turned to you, taking hold of your chin and caressing your cheek with his thumb. The corner of his mouth lifted and he quickly released you and flicked the end of your nose. 

When he started down toward where everyone was gathered, you fell in behind him. 

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here!”

[femmchantress]

So like, the framing device sucked but I did appreciate that it, to quote my husband, “Spielberg’d at us for 15 minutes straight”.

I wasn’t enjoying “Stork” until I realized what it was doing: creating an intentionally shallow homage to first person shooter games with horror elements - down to cookie cutter antagonist designs; purposefully chosen tropes, names, and terminology; timely and witty quips; exaggerated body language; and even a fucking boss fight. Once I was keyed into the intent behind the segment and its decisions, I found it really fun. Not at all scary though. Also bonus points for a big wet puppet. Mama likes a big wet puppet.

“Dream Girl” had so much promise and I was following it eagerly, really intrigued by the premise of a story concerning (literally) manufactured celebrity, predatory paparazzi, and the role of agency in both these lifestyles but when it turned into a big dumb splatterfest it just lost all its momentum. I’m usually pumped for a big dumb splatterfest, but it was just such a disappointingly weak conclusion to a lot of really great setup.

“Live and Let Dive” just kinda sucked all around. The acting was bad (even for a low budget horror vignette), the pacing was atrocious, and the payoffs were disappointing even for my low expectations. When the UFO appeared while the crew was preparing for their skydive, I for a moment expected a story about the small plane escaping an extermination via aliens event as all life below them is wiped out, creating this sorta Open Water-esque scenario. Obviously that didn’t happen and what did ensue was infinitely less creative and engaging. The hand trauma effect was fun.

True to type for Justin Long, “Fur Babies” had promise thanks to a fun concept and a commitment to not taking itself too seriously. It fell short in a lot of areas, but the campiness of the antagonist was great and the dog training of human beings was enjoyably horny until it wasn’t. Still more fun than the last one and less disappointing than “Dream Girl” thanks to lowered expectations.

The final segment, Kate Siegel and Mike Flanagan’s “Stowaway,” makes this whole thing worth watching. I’m not gonna spoil much about it as it really is worth going in blind, but as a short film it really respects the intelligence of the audience and tells its story in a captivating and nuanced way that leaves you trapped in this existential melancholy towards the end. It really speaks to the idea of how larger truths leave us permanently changed, tapping into a more human and tangible form of cosmic horror. I keep finding more little things about it that I love (like how the little girl hints to us that the fate of our protagonist is one of her own making, and that there could’ve been a way out of this). Genuinely one of the best vignettes in this whole franchise, rivaling VHS 2’s “Safe Haven” (and if you were to argue that Stowaway is better I wouldn’t necessarily disagree).

[electricbluebutterflies]

predictable disadvantages

Joel/Tess, PG-ish, also on ao3.

Prompt - taking care of wounds (thank you @seethesunny)

Well this is a problem.

Tess’s baseline there has been questionable for years, maybe her entire life, but-

Her partner is currently shirtless in their living room and she’s never been less turned on by that visual. Too much else going on, she’ll blame it on that not-

“Please tell me the other guy is mostly dead,” she mutters.

This shit always happens when she’s not around, when she has to keep up appearances of being a functional member of society – an activity she engages in much less than her partner does, she can admit that, she’s also better at the logistical side of their enterprises so she’s still absolutely pulling her weight here – and the probable love of her life decides to…

Honestly, she’s not sure what happened and she’s not about to ask, and she suspects this ain’t everything, and-

“Maybe not quite that far, but… probably similar.”

Tess crosses her arms over her chest and gives the most unimpressed glare she’s tried for in a long while. “You’re an idiot.”

“You gonna make yourself useful or not?”

They have rituals for when one of them gets hurt worse than the other one – rituals that usually have her as the more passive participant, she will point out, she’s a smaller person and that really does have some predictable disadvantages – and she can be annoyed later, and-

“You gonna hold still so I can?”

She can do this, scrap cloth and cold water, looking for… he’s not vividly bleeding anywhere, at least there’s that, but it’ll be easier to find bruises by touch than sight and-

He flinches when her fingertips reach a certain spot, and that is not good, and-

She’s not asking. She won’t ask. She doesn’t. She can’t-

“You okay if I-?”

Joel nods, trusting her always, she’s not sure how this-

She’ll reevaluate their relationship dynamic later, she decides as she focuses on the pain spot. Her field-medic skills only go so far, and she’s worried, and-

“It don’t feel worse, if that’s what you’re-“

“Trying to make sure you’re not-“

“You worry too much.”

She tilts her head to take a kiss, easier than saying why, easier than-

“That a problem?”

“It’s not worse than that, okay?”

“You tend not to tell me things and… something goes wrong, I can only drag you so far and-“

“Just took a few hits, not-“

“I’m not doin’ this without you.”

That shuts him up enough to let her keep touching him, fingertips wandering, a few more possible lighter bruises but nothing that gets that kind of visual reaction out of him again, nothing-

“You get hit any lower?”

“You tryin’ to-“

Tess rolls her eyes. “Hasn’t even crossed my mind, but I’d like to know if you-“

“Not enough for me to notice. That make you happy?”

Given the state of the rest of him, no, but…

“It’ll do.”

[crystalelemental]

Engage, day 4.  Not as much to update, but you know.

I want to put this out there: I am an idiot who should not be allowed to do things. I like clearing everything that pops up, but doing the side battles absolutely over-leveled me for future chapters.  I beat the shit out of Hortensia, it was not a challenge.  Chloe could've soloed that map if she wanted.  She almost did.  I had to actively back her out of just annihilating Hortensia like it was nothing.  The side maps are...honestly the biggest challenges, though admittedly the one with the fog of war shit was the worst.  There were a lot of enemies, and I had a metric ton of issues with that map.  It absolutely broke me.  I used the Time Crystal.  I don't even care.  I hate Fog of War, man.

But I'm also an idiot because I kept using my mains for it, instead of the backup units like Boucheron and Clanne, and now they're way behind and I don't know if they can reasonably catch up.  I need to try.  But I feel dumb for letting it reach this point.  Ugh.  Once everyone starts hitting level 20, that'll be a good time to just leave them there, and work on the backup units.  I like getting like...all the supports in the first runthrough.  I like to know what everyone's like.

But as a preliminary assessment, it's already become difficult to choose a team. I'm on Chapter 8.  Chloe is MVP of this army, she is literally untouchable.  Solid defenses, fantastic speed, solid offensive presence, Sigurd ring for complete map control and Canter, just an absolute wrecking ball of a unit.  Celine is second best, but I'm ready for a slight drop-off.  Celine has been carried, in part, by Celica's ring.  Warp Ragnarok is obscene.  But, as I'm learning, Celine is also the only reasonable option for it.  I have it now on Cittrine, who is...super physically frail, so she gets annihilated really easily when she warps, and her speed is atrocious when Thunder is equipped, so she...really needs to be careful or she just dies.  Celine has none of these issues. I think she hit 10 defense, and is almost as fast as Chloe.  Celine just wins.  Third best is Framme, though she's gunning for second.   She's gotten so many strong levels that the only other unit who can beat her in Arena battles is Chloe.  She's bulky, decently strong, absolutely insane with Micaiah's Shine active, and just a delight overall.  These three are the backbone of the team.

"What about Alear?"  Yeah, not gonna lie, Alear's been fairly strength screwed. Not badly enough that she can't manage, but I think it's worth noting that 11 strength at level 13 isn't exactly great.  I also wanted to use Etie a bit, but no one has had worse level luck than her.  It's bad, guys.  It's real bad.  Barring the Marth situation, I think Lapis is just outright better than Alear.  Less bulky, but just as strong and fast with more room to grow.  Alcryst has also taken over as main archer.  He's, uh...he's really good, actually.  The other big name right now is Anna.  I adore that she's an axe fighter, and I kinda love kid Anna being adorable and also a goon.  Early access to Hammer and Poleaxe has also made her a really, really good generalist.  I just wish she wasn't so...the way she is. Her strength is just slightly too low to one-shot most cavs, her speed isn't fantastic, these weapons come with lower accuracy so she sometimes misses at critical moments, and her luck is really low so she gets crit, which is usually death.  It's a lot of problems to have.  I don't think this girl would survive Hard mode.

While I do like Alfred, he's just so far behind Chloe, and is more a tank than a well-rounded unit.  And I do mean in the physical sense.  He's Horse Louis.  Res is bad, he hasn't gotten the best speed growth, but he is bulky.  Which is good, he'll make a nice backup option.  And eventually Chloe will cap Sigurd's ring at rank 10, and it'll be his time to shine.

As for units I don't like...Boucheron isn't doing much.  Clanne was incredible right up until Celine arrived and took everything from him.  I don't really like Jean, and his growths have been sad for a high-growth unit.  I'm not really keen on Jagen characters, so Vander isn't doing much either.  I feel like I'm forgetting someone, so if I did, they're in this bucket too.

By tactics...I kinda like these new bigger weapon options.  They can smack a unit back one space and potentially into hazards, but they result in the foe attacking first, even on your turn.  It's a really cool idea, I just don't know how much it's going to matter.  I've also officially started using the guard effect on Framme and Jean.  Framme's new-found bulk means she's blocking a metric ton of damage for the team, and it's frankly hilarious.  I talked about that whole fog of war issue?  Yeah, this was a solution.  Block all damage from everything except one ally.   Completely stall out the enemy's movements and set them up for a KO next turn.  It's great.

The rings are...interesting.  I'm going to be honest, I think they're a ton of fun, but also hysterically overkill.  Sigurd grants +5 range.  +5!   Chloe, a flier who cannot be stopped by terrain, covers a map in like two turns.  And then gets Canter for another 2 move after combat.  It's nuts.  Celica's Warp Ragnarok has been a clean one-shot against any foe.  It's devastating in the extreme.  And Micaiah's Great Sacrifice is a beautiful effect that I've seen give Framme a full level, as late as level 14.  Like, that skill is free EXP, man.  If someone's behind, just slap Micaiah on them, turn them into a Staff-based utility bot, and let them farm those levels.  It's so busted.  The only one who doesn't initially seem as busted is Marth, but I assure you, he is.  The evade stacking is unreal, any fast unit effectively becomes untouchable.  Add in a skill that lets you recover to 20% when under 20% HP after battle, and all I'm waiting for is something that gives me survival at 1HP from a single lethal blow, and you're effectively immortal.  It's just so extreme.

But I also think that, for challenge maps anyway, that extreme response is necessary?  All foes move instantly, and you start out surrounded on nearly every challenge map.  This results in needing some really extreme solutions. Warp Ragnarok, while absurd, also becomes necessary sometimes to snipe out an opponent that could be a problem.  Micaiah's Sacrifice becomes a necessary hard reset after a rough round of combat.  Marth's evasion is necessary just to stay alive.  The only one out is Sigurd, who...might be my favorite, because his utility is just perfect for getting where you need to go.   Like, you know those maps where it's like "Oh no!  That enemy thief is so close to that chest, they're going to steal that thing!"  Sigurd ignores the danger and gets you right to them. Even his big attack is more about movement than damage.  I love it.  I love Sigurd's ring so much.

The story's reasonably simple, and if my character talk being focused on combat rather than characterization wasn't much of an indication, they're all pretty straight-forward and simple.  I like it, though.  It's fun in a simple way.  They just have to not do anything too stupid with the ending and I think we'll have a decent experience.

On the whole, I'd say I'm enjoying myself a lot.  This...might even be the rare Fire Emblem game I attempt to clear on Hard once I'm through the game once. My next mission is getting Lyn's ring, so I'm pretty excited about that.  And I met Goldmary!  Who...yeah.  I like her a lot.  Looking forward to that recruitment.

[kays-kg-works]

Lmao cool arguments, thanks for taking zero accountability during like any of that for yes - going after individuals. The crusade bit? The definition of ‘crusade’ is ‘a vigorous campaign for political, social, or religious change.’

If I see people on here making direct accusations and getting called out about it, even if it’s against someone I don’t follow and have never directly interacted with before to my knowledge where the accused seems nice enough and is trying to provide proof of their innocence while you’re out here literally demanding further proof because you claim their initial one was insufficient for you to stop being a dick about it?

Yeah, I take issue with that.

Also, I don’t care if you’ve been ‘mostly inactive for over a year’ - if you have followers who are gonna see that and YOU are their acquaintance, friend, mutual, or fave and/or they don’t have critical thinking skills? Then yeah it is kinda your fault if one or more of those people wanders off and harasses that person based on your potentially flawed testimony.

Also, I never said I supported Madasama, anywhere in my reblog or mentioned them at all, even though I did see their reply to your post - I just said I didn’t support you going and accusing individuals without proof. Though it is funny to me that you used them as an example of ‘You think people who use AI have the decency to own up to what they’re doing???’ when Madasama... literally in that reply to your post openly said ‘Yeah I use AI for my work, what about it’.

Seeing everything in black and white kinda... sucks, historically speaking, and while you seem to think that it’s impossible, I’m here to tell you that... you can dislike something without taking it upon yourself to shame, call out, demonize, or otherwise rail against individuals that you see engaging in that behavior. Or in this case, people you think you see engaging in that behavior. You are not some divine authority on what human-driven art should look like and have already admitted that the tools you used later to try and prove that image was AI-generated aren’t always right so the fact remains that neither of us has true proof on our stances.

In my personal experience, it super duper sucks to be accused of what essentially amounts to art theft after putting time and effort into a piece - someone I considered my best friend at one time accused me of tracing a piece of their art when I did a sketch of their character for them because the nose looked too similar to the one they’d drawn, and on another sketch where I’d had a photo reference up to the side while drawing which is something I don’t usually do so surprise surprise - the image turned out looking different than my usual sketching style.

They only backed down after I literally laid the photo-referenced sketch over the original image to show them how off some of the proportions were in comparison - one eye right on but the other lower and slightly tilted, head shorter and a bit wider, etc. Initially, I brushed it off as “Oh, they’re just protective of their art and their reputation and it’s for their webcomic so they don’t want us to get in trouble and wanted to make sure I wasn’t up to no good :)” But the more I thought about it, the more it was like...

“Huh... this person really thought I would do that to them...”

Obviously the situation is different here in that you’re two strangers on the internet, but my point is that if you’re wrong?? You are directly harming someone who’s just taken a bunch of time and energy to make something and put it out into the universe only to be told essentially “Oh I know you didn’t make that because you aren’t that good and it looks too different from your normal stuff, why don’t you stay in your box if you don’t want people to think you’re a liar and a fake?” and no amount of apologizing afterwards if they DID provide you proof would put you back in their/my good graces.

For the sake of protecting my peace? I will no longer continue to interact with you, because you seem far more determined to maintain your stance on the issue that you are good and right and should definitely be doing this than I have the patience to dispute. I’ve got too many things to be doing with my time that are more important than sitting here arguing with you about whether it’s good to potentially bully someone off a platform in the name of ‘justice’.

And in case you take my future silence as proof that I’m wrong and you’re right like you tried to do with Skykashi?

Good job, you defeated me 🙄 Enjoy the view from your high horse, Grand Inquisitor

Logging in after a busy weekend irl, and seeing no further responses from @skykashi presumably they've blocked me after I asked to see the layers of the artwork. I was anticipating it, but it's really funny nonetheless.

The easiest and simplest way to disprove my theory would've been to post a screenshot of all the layers in the art file, or better, in a video like here, but instead they went off on a lengthy 30 min video about irrelevant topics.

At the end of the day, they know what they have done, and no amount of defensive posts or deflection will take away from the truth. AI art obtained by a few clicks of the mouse for social media validation may feel nice temporarily, but I hope one day they truly improve their skills to match those of the artist they entered as prompt on mid\journey or the likes.

Going forwards, they will either have to use AI for all their future arts to maintain style consistency (or rather, inconsistency, since they said in their explanation vid that their style actually varies dramatically as per their wishes, which is. Cool?)

Or, the more desirable, but less likely route - they'll revert to their original art style, in which case, AI won't be used, which was the original point of the conflict.

[thefirstknife]

can we please. go one (1) week without the PVP obsessed people going off about how PVP is the only thing that matters in the game. im so very tired. "PVE people are probably about to find out that PVE can't carry the game because PVP is ruined and we're all gonna quit and play better games" please just can they shut up and go already instead of threatening us with a good time they never follow through on??

I saw that stuff as well, I know exactly what you're talking about. It's incredibly disingenuous and deliberately incendiary to cause more people to bitch about the game being doomed or whatever.

They are constantly using "steam numbers" to show that this is the lowest population count that Destiny 2 ever had and how that's proof that the game is being ruined and dying, that pvp bros and content creators are more important than we think they are, that Bungie needs to make Destiny 3 (yes, that is unironically stuff that people are saying) and other really incredibly tiring things.

Not to mention the vitriol towards the devs. Every time they bitch, more and more people show up in the comments saying awful shit about devs and how they are lazy, they don't work, they don't care, they are bad at development and so on. This is what eventually fuels harassment.

These "steam numbers" are disingenuous because they are taken out of context and they strip all other external reasons from the "low player count."

Is there a low player count? Yes! That is correct. Even when we account for console players, it's still low.

This is nothing new. This is a constant trend. Last month of the season ALWAYS has low numbers. People finished their story and their pinnacle grind and their seals and are doing other things.

More under for length:

Is this the lowest it's been so far? It seems to be, though the final month on steam charts isn't over so we can't fully tell yet, but it seems to be one of the lowest. However, there's been similar numbers before during seasonal end. It's quite literally nothing new. We go through this every season, except this season it's slightly lower than usual.

Why is that? Well, the chart Aztecross put to prove there's not many people playing happened on a Monday before the final Tuesday reset of the final week of the season. Yeah bro, very few people have things left to do in the season. They're not bothering. Unlike you, other people have other hobbies and games to play. I haven't played in days, I only got on on Saturday to finish my King's Fall seal and that took 10 minutes. This is what I mean by "disingenuous." It's a cheap bait tactic. Find the lowest number and ship it for cheap outrage engagement.

Others are constantly also posting the cummulative steam chart for every month of Destiny since the game came to steam and they're pointing out that we have lowest numbers now. Which is, again, posted for cheap outrage. They look at the number and see it's low and their conclusion is "game is dying." They don't care about the trend (every season end is "dying"), they don't care about external reasons (other game releases), they don't care about overall how some seasons are just weaker and have less interest (not the first time), they don't care about anything.

They just want people to be mad enough to harass the devs. Because like, what do they think is going to happen when they spend 2 months blogging to hundreds of thousands of people about the game being ruined by evil devs who don't do their job? When they constantly talk about how everything in the game is bad, pvp is bad, pve is boring and easy, story is bad, seasons are bad, events made for fun are bad, small community event is bad. What's going to happen is thousands of people are going to harass the devs. That's what going to happen.

I took the "steam numbers" chart that people are throwing around and I went into it in-depth to explain what the numbers mean and add context to them. You can see it here. It's a big image but you can zoom in and explore. It makes more sense when you see it separated by seasons; you can CLEARLY see the main trend of "low population at season end."

Another thing to consider with these numbers is the scheduling pattern. Shadowkeep released in October, Beyond Light released in November after a delay. October-November are usually months with a lot of other game releases and holidays. In 2019 and 2020, Bungie had an expansion themselves to cover that time. In 2021, there was no expansion in Oct-Nov; and that was the last time the game had the lowest population record ever. WHAT A SURPRISE. In this period, if Destiny doesn't have an expansion, people move on to play other games!!!! WOW! We have the technology to decipher the low numbers!

It's important to also note that back in 2021, that was the first time a game was delayed properly and significantly, so the year was without an expansion and there was a lull in Oct-Nov period. However, at that time, it was the first time this schedule happened and people generally didn't know how will it go. We were also kept in the dark about the seasonal story end (the infamous When Is Exorcism incident) so people had to keep coming back. Now, we're in the same situation; no new expansion in Oct-Nov, seasonal lull, nothing is happening. However, now, we know how this goes. People know how this schedule works AND we're not dealing with an extended season. We know when this season ends and there's nothing to wait for. People are more comfortable taking a break. So there's less people in Oct-Nov 2022 than there were in the previous lowest point, Oct-Nov 2021. It's almost as if there are reasons for this that go beyond "game is obviously dying."

These people also seem to be incapable of understanding that some players just... stop playing. For no specific reason. The game isn't dying, some people just lose interest. Content creators are especially guilty of this, because THEY can't stop playing, because they tied their income to a single live service game. To them, quitting the game is losing a job. Curious, maybe that influences their views about the game and about burnout and taking breaks and the quality of the content?

They simultaneously want Bungie to drop FOMO and reduce burnout, but they ALSO want for there to never be "content droughts." Which one is it? Because these two things cannot both be gone. If you want less FOMO and less burnout, then there will be less content. If you want more content, then you have to get on that burnout grindset.

It's the end of the god damn season. Yeah, nothing is happening. Yeah, fewer people are playing. Players finished their grind in the Destiny mines and are doing other things before the new season drops. Stop catastrophising it for cheap outrage bait. You not being able to take a break and having to keep making new content even when the season is ending and there no new content is your problem. Not Bungie's, not the other players'.

Bungie is not going to force their devs to crunch 80 hours per week so you can have brand new content every Tuesday that no regular player can catch up with. As it currently is, I want MORE downtime. I want seasons to be 4 months and to have less time and more downtime to catch up with stuff. Imagine the outrage though. Genuinely, society if these people would actually deliver on their promise and leave. Someone else will take your place, bro.

Also, as a final note before a dissertation in the tags: these pvp mains are weak. They whine about only having 2 new maps in 2 years. Gambit got -2 new maps. Like, literally we had 6 maps and now we have 4. LMAO. Crucible has a total of 24 maps and 8+ modes, constant updates, Iron Banner rework, multiple Trials reworks, incoming competitive rework, Crucible labs, three different sets of armour, prestige weapon loot, three different seals, entire twabs dedicated just to it. And they whine about not enough attention for the Crucible?

It's getting more attention than any other core playlist. Their problem is that they're not the ones being catered to. An update doesn't count if it doesn't satisfy mister Crucible Main #37. Fuck everyone else I guess! They are the most entitled selfish childish little pricks I've ever seen. They do not deserve Bungie talking the players at all.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

(Aiden/Lambert, game canon, washing, tenderness, hand job, dry humping, subtle "oh" moment, part of a longer work)

“Gonna wash me, wolf pup? Fuckin’ hell, the stories didn’t do Kaer Morhen hospitality justice.”

Lambert smirked and shoved Aiden in the shoulder. “Shut your face and sit the fuck down. I didn’t bring you here so the old man could break your back on the walls, but you went and did it anyway. I, just–sit.”

There was a new agitation in Lambert’s posture. He rubbed the back of his neck and the frown lines deepened. Shit, Aiden didn’t mean to be difficult. Just engage in their usual banter. Instead of pushing anymore, Aiden sat on the end of the bench near one of the carved drainage gutters, and placed his hands in his lap. They really were fucked. Nothing a dose of Swallow and a nap wouldn’t fix, but…

Lambert filled the bucket a little further, and Aiden heard the clatter of a ladle and the rustle of his own washkit as Lambert pawed through its contents. In the next breath, Lambert had straddled the bench, the heat of his body pressed up close, his thighs bracketing Aiden’s hips. A warm palm rested speculatively on the side of Aiden’s face, and he tilted his head back under the lightest pressure. Lambert’s touch left a phantom sensation in its wake, like light beneath Aiden’s skin, and he bit back a small, startled noise.

Aiden let the tension melt from his body as the water poured through his hair. “If all it took was a bit of building work to get this kinda treatment, I’d have picked up a mallet sooner.”

“Not like you can rely on your flirting skills. I've had better game from a bruxa.” Lambert dropped the ladle back into the bucket, and Aiden’s nostrils flared at the faint scent of soap lathering in Lambert’s palms. The feel of Lambert’s fingers pushing over his scalp sent sparks over Aiden’s shoulders and set a heaviness behind his eyes that he didn’t fight; they slipped closed with a contented sigh.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look, Lam-butt,” Aiden said softly, but the edge of mischief was missing from his tone. Lambert’s thumbs were rubbing circles at the back of his skull and it felt truly divine, until he tugged a soapy lock of hair in retribution.

"Yeah, cause I haven't heard that one a million times in the last fifty fucking years."

Lambert's hands disappeared to the ladle, pouring fresh water over Aiden's head until all the suds had vanished from his hair, and then returned with the pleasantly coarse fibres of a sponge. It wasn't from Aiden's kit, but one of Lambert's own, Aiden realised. Lambert applied a perfect pressure, sensitive scars prickled with sensation, sore muscles relaxing to softness under the wide, practiced circles that tracked over Aiden's shoulders and neck.

Lambert worked lower, following the valley of Aiden's spine to the small of his back. A gasp pushed past Aiden's lips as Lambert reached the crest of his arse, sensitive skin rippling with pleasure. His cock had been slow to show interest, although it sat half hard between his thighs from the feel of Lambert's hands in his hair, but the intimate touch quickened his pulse. Aiden felt his heart thump in his chest, and spread his thighs to ease the tension between his legs.

There was no point hiding. Lambert would rib him. Aiden had woken up hard before, and his body reacted so readily to simple touches; a palm at the small of his back, a pat on his knee. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him without payment, and even then it was cursory and professional. Nothing more than what needed to be done. Lambert's touches were lingering, leaving behind that same blushing light in Aiden's skin, and Aiden felt a swell of jittery energy build in his stomach.

As Lambert leaned forward to run the sponge beneath Aiden's arms, following the curve of his bicep and elbow down to his wrist, Aiden felt the heat of Lambert's chest press to his back. This close, each of Lambert's shuddering breaths puffed on Aiden's damp skin, and his movements became less certain. Aiden made himself pliable, arms turning under the slightest pressure.

It was the most intimate Aiden had ever been with another person, the excitement thrummed like molten gold through his veins, but with it came a barely contained desperation. He wanted to arch into Lambert's hands, to push his body into the source of his pleasure, but he balanced on the edge. His best friend, his only friend, sat behind him holding his breath. Lambert reached the wrist of his left arm, he paused.

Knowing how close Lambert's lips were, imagining how they would feel against his shoulder, like a brand, so powerful they would leave a mark, Aiden's cock was completely hard. It strained upward against his stomach, Aiden's thighs flexing as he felt Lambert's answering interest pressing to the cleft of his arse.

"Aiden…" Lambert implored, his voice rough. He leaned his forehead to the back of Aiden's shoulder, and Aiden felt the flutter of his eyelashes as his eyes closed. The sponge fell away from Aiden's arm, sloshing into the bucket, and Lambert's soapy hands rested, shaking, at Aiden's hips.

They sat in stillness, their bodies hot and twitching, until Aiden reached for Lambert's hands and moved them gently to his chest, pushing strong fingers beneath curves of firm muscle.

Lambert sucked in a sharp breath. Aiden felt the flicker of those long lashes again, and a very pensive, "Yeah?"

A lot hung in the question. A single word. They weren't good with words, not when they were weighted with meaning. Sure, Lambert could spit vitriol and anger and Aiden had a sassy clapback for most one-liners, but this was different. When it mattered, they were both men of action, their bodies speaking for them when their mouths failed, but Aiden could force one more free from the pressure in his chest. "Yeah," he rasped, and then, for good measure, "Please."

Lambert gripped with a bone-deep groan. He shifted a little closer and circled his hands over Aiden's chest. Soap-slick palms pressed firmly, curious fingers wandering over Aiden's perked nipples and punching a gasp from Aiden's throat. His cock flicked enthusiastically when Lambert returned for another pass, and then again at the first kiss against the back of his shoulder.

Aiden arched into the massage over his chest, throbs of pleasure coiling in his groin. His head flopped back, his hips twitching as Lambert's hands swept down his abdomen to the soft skin of his inner thighs. Lambert tucked his chin over Aiden's shoulder and gazed down the slope of his body, pushing Aiden's legs apart. "Fuck, Lambert," Aiden gasped, burning with the need for Lambert to touch his prick. "Lambert, please."

Tender fingers curled beneath the heft of his balls and then followed the seam to the thick base of his cock. The warm circle of Lambert's grip made Aiden's hips buck, the curling pressure in his belly threatening to split him at the seams. Aiden panted as Lambert stroked his shaft, his grip perfect, motions slow and slick. He paused only to play across Aiden's cockhead, sliding the foreskin back and forth with a shuddering breath of excitement.

No one had ever touched Aiden with such reverence, their body humming in responsive pleasure against his own. Lambert was shivering with barely contained energy, like he had knocked back a Thunderbolt and hadn't expended it. His hand still working on Aiden's cock, Lambert poured clean water down Aiden's chest, washing away the soap suds clinging to Aiden's skin.

Aiden nearly whined when Lambert's hands left, followed by the absence of his body heat. He wandered to Aiden's front and Aiden's eyes settled on Lambert's full cock, standing tall from the dark curls of hair at his groin. Lambert was stunningly beautiful, his face open and desperately vulnerable, his body glistening in the low light of the springs. When he pushed a hand to Aiden's chest, Aiden fell back easily, his sore hands taking Lambert's waist as he leaned over.

Their first kiss was breathlessly gentle. Aiden had watched those lips for years, full, plush, shamelessly expressive. They were soft, so soft, and parted nervously for the tease of Aiden's tongue. Aiden could feel Lambert shaking, his body rocking between assertiveness and anxiety, unsure but desperate to proceed. So Aiden kissed him deeper, letting the pressure out in a low, longing moan that made Lambert gasp.

Aiden's hands slid down to bring their hips together and rock up, fingers sliding to grip Lambert's arse and urge him into a long, slow thrust. Lambert's arms shook, his grip white-knuckled on the edge of the bench. Aiden could feel the soft skin of Lambert's inner thighs against his hips, Lambert so exposed, so intimately bare, that it stole his breath away.

The slick, velvet-soft slide of their pricks was perfect, desperate, barely coordinated, everything; the weight of Lambert's balls pressed to the base of Aiden's prick, hot and tight. "You're close," Aiden whispered when their lips parted, his tone wondrous rather than teasing, as he rubbed his stubbled jaw against Lambert's beard. "Fuck, you're so close."

Lambert's head lifted and Aiden stared into glistening eyes, bottomless pupils ringed in a tiny lip of bright yellow. "You…" Lambert tried, his voice thick in his throat.

And suddenly, with a sharp clarity, Aiden realised why Lambert had wanted him here. In his eyes, Aiden saw the raw vulnerability wreathed with pleasure and relief. He had feared rejection and so he had brought Aiden to his home, hoping to find strength to take the final few steps.

Aiden had foolishly mistaken Lambert's hesitance for disinterest. Not unfriendly, but a boundary. A temporary one, by the gods, and Aiden wanted to give Lambert the world, because he had wasted so much time thinking he wasn't good enough. "Tell me what you need," Aiden said, his words like syrup in his mouth, thick and so sweet. He had never expected to ask Lambert, not like this, not with him so gloriously strung out.

A soft moan broke through Lambert's long, beleaguered exhale, and Aiden's grip tightened on Lambert's arse, urging him on. Lambert canted his hips info Aiden's grip and Aiden interpreted as best he could. Or rather, he caved to his own desire to touch, to feel everything Lambert kept guarded, and brushed his fingertips over the soft rim of Lambert's hole. The reward was another quiet moan, so Aiden continued to rub and circle as Lambert thrust their cocks together, but it was clear what Lambert yearned for.

[rouge-variant]

Bad Day Headcannons Pt. 3

Cause we haven't done my favourite humans yet and I'm having a bad day

Erwin

With him being the commander, he has eyes everywhere

You show up to a meeting a few minutes late, pushing your food around at meals or even zoning out when your trying to do something are all red flags to him

He'll call you to his office despite knowing it might cause more stress on you but it's to prevent extra attention on you

'You're not in trouble' is the first thing that'll come out of his mouth and the first thing you'll feel is his arms on your shoulders

Very gently will he coax the problem out if you and you aren't leaving until you two solve the problem, no exceptions...not even titans can interrupt this, Levi will handle it no problem 😉

Afterwards, he's holding you close, gently swaying back and forth or patting your hair while you lay on his lap

Afterwards, he'll make sure no one looks into this and he'll follow out with the plan you two made to fix this situation and ensure it won't get this bad for a while

Levi

Even if you are as closed off as he is, he will somehow pick up that you're in a mood

Hes gonna struggle but it doesn't mean he isn't going to help. He's gotten to a really low point in his life and just barely got out of it and he doesn't want you to go through the same

Like Erwin, he's gonna get you in his office, but there's not going to be the usual tasks for you to complete

Instead he's going to have you sit across from him if you don't want to be next to him

He's going to have tea because...duh its him but also because then you have something warm in your hands which always feels nice but also something to look at since eye contact might be awkward in this situation

He isn't going to put up with the 'I'm fine' crap. He's going to try and let you get it out on your own but if he must, he'll force it out by slowly ticking you off further till you burst

Then it's soft mode activated. He's awkward with physical touch but he'll hold you, squeeze your hands gently, headpats if you end out falling alseep in his shoulder after the emotional drain took it out of you

The two of you even come up with a series of silent signals to prevent it spiraling out control again

Hanji (I'm gonna do them Gender Neutral but I apologies if I miss one occasionally)

For once, you're not engaging in their antics and it scares them. Instead you're zoning out and struggling on what's in front of you or working yourself to the bone worse than Moblit does

They will grab the things in front of you and toss it to the side, literally, you are more important than words on paper

They will pull their chair closer to you, sit down, lower their energy level. 'Spill' is all they say

If you stay silent, it'll turn into a guessing game. When you do talk, they are silent until your done. Small nods to let you know you that they are listening

'Good job' praises. Weird? No. They understand how much trust you put into them too keep your struggles silent and let you see your vulnerable side.

Headpats and gentle hair ruffles are the first bit of touch they'll try before with you or they try to something else.

They'll probably try to get Levi and Erwin on this cause if your close with Hanij then those two are probably close with you too. If you say no then lips locked, sorry boys.

Expect check-in sessions either in a letter system or in-person which ever you like better. They're gonna have your back...and your front cause everyone seems to forget this but them!!

So Miche, Moblit and...maybe Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie? Thoughts? And feedback is always welcome 😁

[beyondspaceandstars]

congratulations! 📚 could you do promos 4 & 7 from the smut with Natasha Romanoff???

by the way, I hope you have a great day/night!

Brat

Relationship: CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, fingering, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I went a bit CEO!Natasha with this one - hope that’s okay, I thought it lent well! Also, thank you! I hope you're having a nice day/night as well :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You really didn’t want to go and Natasha knew this but she was also quite the persuasive one, having such a dominance to her that you could rarely, if ever, say no to.

So, that’s how you found yourself a bit grumpily sitting in the car passenger seat while your girlfriend drove you two to whatever charity banquet this was.

Natasha was constantly getting these invitations being the high-up, fancy CEO that she was and usually you were fine with them. You liked the little appetizers and flutes of champagne. You especially liked your girlfriend parading you around, showing you off to fancy city people.

But tonight just wasn’t the night for you. You had had a ridiculous day at your own job and frankly, you just wanted to lounge around with your girl, maybe order pizza, and have lazy sex. Natasha had shut down your idea, saying she already RSVP’d for you two. Grudgingly, you shoved yourself into a dress and let her whisk you away

Little did she know, though, that you weren’t letting down easily. You had some potential ideas for the night, hoping that maybe — just maybe — you can rile Natasha up enough to keep her focus just on you and not the millionaires trying to network.

Upon arriving at the event, you hunted down the first tray of champagne you could find, taking a swig of the alcohol promptly. Natasha followed your path, stopping every now and then to chat, but once she was free of the schmoozing, she marched right towards you. An arm made it was tightly around your waist.

"What is your problem?" She gritted in your ear just below a whisper so no one could pick up on the tension. Your eyes darted around the room

"Nothing," you responded, taking another sip of champagne.

Natasha scoffed. "Well, you’re acting like a brat." She grabbed your glass out of your hand. You gasped but before you could protest, Natasha asked, "Is this because I made you come here tonight?

You shot her a look before taking back your champagne and finishing it off. "I’m gonna go get another drink."

Before your girlfriend could pull you back to her, you were already on a rampage for the bar. Luckily, no one tried to stop you. Thanks to your relations with Natasha, you had worked up a bit of your own status but it wasn’t like anyone genuinely cared. You weren’t negotiating deals.

You leaned on the bar and signaled for the bartender. You asked for something a little stronger. He nodded politely and got to making the drink. You turned your attention to the freshly polished wood of the bar.

Running a finger over it carelessly as you waited, out of the corner of your eye you noticed someone approach beside you. It was a man you somehow didn’t recognize. He looked very well put-together, almost like he was trying too hard, with his designer pressed suit and hair that could go up in flames from all the product in it.

You tried to ignore him, turning your attention to the bartender who was still at work, but it was hard when the man was not-so-subtly inching towards you. This wasn’t going to go very well, you thought. But you weren’t stopping it.

"In need of something to get you through the night?" The man suddenly asked. Your gaze shot over to him.

"Excuse me?"

He chuckled, "I meant the drink."

As if on cue, a glass was placed right in front of you. You wrapped your hands around it, slowly bringing it to your lips for a sip as you eyed the stranger. He was watching you quite intensely.

You hummed, delighted by the cocktail. "These things can sometimes be…draining."

He sighed. "Tell me about it."

The conversation fell into a lull. You tried glancing around at the other patrons, all completely oblivious to the bar, but just couldn’t shake this man and his eyes which were still watching you. They shamelessly took in the curves of your dress and even lingered a bit on your chest.

Your stomach dropped as you suddenly saw him step even closer, his finger lightly brushing your arm in the process. You froze but still made no chance to dash away. Maybe your goal of annoying your girlfriend tonight was going a bit too far…

"You know," he began, his voice dangerously low, "if you wanted to sneak away for a bit—"

"She doesn’t," Natasha gritted as she suddenly approached you two. You just about let out a sigh of relief as her arm came around your waist, pulling you into her side. You yelped at the action, stumbling a bit, but she held you tight.

The mystery man looked you two over, a bit of a pleased expression graced his face. But he didn’t press further, probably very deterred by the daggers Natasha’s eyes were shooting at him. He collected his drink from the bar and raised it at you two as if in some awkward toast.

"Fair enough, ladies," he said, and then he was back in the crowd, lost in the sea of aristocrats.

You didn’t know what to do now, opting to stare down at your drink.

"What the hell was that about?" Natasha asked.

"I- He just came up to me," you pouted.

Natasha shook her head in disappointment as she began walking you two away from everyone else. You didn’t know where she was leading you until you were roughly pulled into the women’s restroom. It was empty, thankfully, and you heard the turn of the lock as you placed your drink on the counter.

"He just came up to you," Natasha repeated. She was sauntering over, looking very much more like some powerful CEO than your sweet girlfriend. You gulped and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink. "He may have came up to you but I didn’t see you making any moves to walk away."

"Well—"

"And you let him touch you," she scoffed. "Don’t think I didn’t see his fingers on your fucking arm." For emphasis, she gripped the spot he had brushed over. You yelped. "What made you think he could do that, hmm? What, did you forget who you belong to?"

"No, Natasha, I didn’t mean—" You pleaded but she wasn’t buying it.

"I’m not buying it," she said as she roughly turned you around, her back pressing your front into the bathroom counter. "In fact, I think you need a little reminder."

You held your breath in anticipation as Natasha began gathering the skirt of your dress. You knew what she was going to find underneath. And you certainly knew it wasn’t going to help your case.

Sure enough, once your lower region was exposed, Natasha let out a gasp. “No panties? Are you kidding me right now?!”

"Natasha, please—"

"You really are a fucking brat, aren’t you?"

You tried shaking your head but it was no use. Her mind was made as she pressed into you even more, her hand now coming to caress your inner thigh. You whimpered out your girlfriend’s name as her fingers began slowly circling your clit. She chuckled in your ear before collecting some of the wetness dripping from your folds and putting attention back on your clit.

"So wet for me," Natasha murmured. "It is for me, right? Or did that man out there get you dripping like a needy slut?"

You groaned, captivated by the action happening between your thighs. "Just for you," you said as your eyes slowly fluttered. Natasha picked up the pace adding slight pressure as well. You squealed.

"That’s it," she whispered, holding you tighter around the waist. "That’s my girl."

Suddenly, though, she moved her fingers back to your folds where, without warning, she shoved two fingers inside you. You yelped, twisting in her grip. She didn’t even budge. You cried out as the fingers flicked upwards, hitting just the right spots.

"If you want to act like a slut you have to deal with being fingered like one, got it?" Natasha said. Her mouth was practically on your ear, she was whispering so lowly it sent goosebumps up your arms. She was pissed and serious. You were loving it.

"Y-Yes, Natasha." You barely managed to get the words out but your girlfriend seemed very pleased. Her fingers picked up — significantly. A squelching noise now filled the bathroom, coming directly from your wetness which was not stopping any time soon it seemed. Natasha was also taking the moment to make sure her hand was hitting your clit. With every single pump. It was getting overwhelming very, very fast.

You spoke again, "Please, please… I’m gonna cum."

"Yeah?" Natasha mocked. "My little slut needs to cum?"

You nodded your head profusely. "Please, please." The begging was becoming second nature at this point, your only instinct. Natasha seemed very pleased with that.

"Fine," she huffed. "Cum all over my fingers you greedy little girl. And you better scream when you cum. I want every single person, especially that man, to know who’s treating you so well."

Her paced picked up even more (how that was possible you didn’t know) and your body reacted wonderfully. Within moments, you were crumbling like a house of cards. Your orgasm rushed over you as you cried out much louder than you had actually intended. You couldn’t stop as Natasha continued to work you through the orgasm. She didn’t give up until you were limp in her arms.

She chuckled, watching your body practically collapse from pleasure. "Was that good, honey?"

"Yes," you mumbled, leaning into her body. Natasha fixed your dress and brought her hand to caress your cheek.

"Good," she said and placed a quick kiss on your lips. "Maybe that’ll teach you to behave."

Now it was your turn to laugh. "Why would I behave when that’s what I get for being bad?"

Abruptly, Natasha’s hand came around your neck, forcing you to look at her. Her gaze was dark, her CEO stance still very much engaged. "Don’t even tempt me."

You bit your lip teasingly but nodded your head slowly. You certainly didn’t mean it, though, already secretly planning the next time you could ruffle her feathers.

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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[maxwell-grant]

Who's your favorite Batman villain?

The Penguin. Was gonna put off this ask for a bit but I got surprised today with an incredible rendition of him, so now the dastardly bumbershoot waddled and squawked his way into my thoughts again and I gotta talk about him.

Penguin's not just my favorite Batman villain, he's my favorite DC character and comic book supervillain, the main reason I even want to write a Batman story someday.

I love the imagery that surrounds him, the trick umbrellas and the birds he so lovely dotes after and the WAKs and the Iceberg Lounge, which has become maligned in recent years as a sign of his downfall, but I very much appreciate as a concept in general still. I love a lot of the performances and actors who've taken him over the years. Burgess Meredith and Danny DeVito are some of my favorite performers of all time, Paul Williams has a wonderful voice and starred in my favorite film of all time. Tom Kenny, David Ogden Stiers, Robin Lord Taylor, Penguin's just had such great, terrific performances and adaptations. Batman Returns is my favorite Batman film by far and it was what got me to start paying more attention to Oswald.

I love the roles he can play in any given Batman story and how he's managed to endure all of his falls from grace by becoming an indispensable part of Batman's worldbuilding. I love his varied dynamics with Batman and Riddler and Catwoman and Gordon and his henchmen and those who get close to him. I love his style and the way he conducts himself when he's allowed to be more than just a generic mob boss. Penguin's design has, by simply staying unchanged over the decades, gone from "common rich person wear draped over a funny cartoon gangster" to "he is so out of touch and desperate for respectability that he dresses like an 1930s capitalist caricature, like a little kid's idea of what a rich and respectable man looks like, and Penguin's still stuck in that mindset". I love how absurd and plausible he is.

I like that Penguin can very easily fit just about any kind of Batman story, from the campy supervillain plots to the gritty urban crime ones. You can tell stories about Penguin falling in love, pretending to be legit because he doesn't want his aunt to learn he's a criminal, and opening up a comedy act with a talking penguin, or stories about Penguin terrorizing the city with giant robots and guided missiles and driving people to suicide. I like that he's a character who both relishes in his lifestyles of supervillain and crimelord alike, and yet is perpetually restless because the minute he acquires what he wants, he immediately starts wanting something else. He could have Batman and the Batfamily and all other supervillains wiped out and have Gotham in his pocket and maybe even become President of the United States, and he'd still want more. Because Oswald is nothing but wants, the wants of a traumatized manchild in a funny costume throwing money and toys and brute force and tantrums at the world until it makes sense, which only makes him far too fitting as a Batman villain.

Everyone forgets that Penguin was canonically the first villain to ever successfully escape Batman at the end of a story, completely bypassing the usual "villain swears revenge behind bars" ending to instead escape scot-free, and went on to establish himself as one of his biggest, most inventive and most cunning villains, second only, if not equal, to Joker. I love that he's ruthless and inventive and classy and cunning and brutal and how his main trick is using the fact that everyone underestimates the short fat man to his advantage. He's taken traits that got many of us in real life relentlessly tormented for them, and he uses them to pull the wool over those who think they are better than him.

It'ss a trick that works because even in real life people can't stop looking at this weird and silly little man and think "that guy's too silly for a Batman villain, he's not a murder clown or musclebound monster, what's he gonna do" and, yeah, that's the point, that's been the point from day one, he doesn't look scary or intimidating or even that evil, and he's the guy who pulls the rug under supergenius fighting machine Batman and becomes the top crimelord of Gotham City, a city ruled by terrors and manias and monsters infinitely bigger and scarier and stronger than he is, and he STILL made it to the top and he STILL maintains it, time and time again even when newer and flashier and scarier villains come and go. Batman is, at it's core, a fundamentally absurd character, and Penguin acts as a reminder of that. Because the minute we accept a man can terraform himself with training and money into a living legend on the level of gods, there's no reason why a tiny fat man with similar drive and resources can't likewise throw his weight with monsters and warriors far above his station.

Despite how ridiculously often he's disrespected by writers and fans alike, how far he's fallen off his former position in Batman's Rogues Gallery, and how often he's used as just a punching bag for assorted Bat-people, Penguin never goes away. He's the biggest survivor of all of Batman's villains, more so than the genuinely immortal ones, because he's the cockroach that won't go away no matter how many times you flush it.

Because once you get past the piles of money and the lounge fortresses and the armies of goons and the piles of cartoony gadget toys not too dissimilar from Batman's own, what the Penguin has is brains, and spite and hatred on a scale no other Batman villain has. He hates Batman, because Batman is nothing but yet another bully who thinks he can push Oswald around just because he's bigger and stronger. He hates the lower class for it's unsophisticated brutes and boors that made his childhood hell. He hates the upper class that's rejected and also tormented him since infancy, that he desperately spent so long trying to be a part of. He hates the monsters and supervillains he works with and has to associate with to stay alive. He hates the city that he fights to rule over tooth and nail.

And although he may never admit it, he hates himself, because he'a short paunchy man with a beakish nose who's brutal and immoral not just because those are the cards life dealt him, but because he likes what it affords him too much to give it away. Because he's never going to have the love and acceptance he desperately craves, he will never be able to accept it or keep it. Because he can never fully be a gentleman, or a monster, but instead a sad mix who belongs in neither of their worlds. Because at the end, he doesn't look like anyone else. He looks like one of him.

And still, I like Penguin because he's a Gentleman Villain. The one Gentleman Villain of Batman's rogues gallery, even if that's faded from a lot of his recent appearences that pushed the crimelord aspects to the forefront. He dresses like a gentleman thief, he's canonically a huge A.J Raffles fan, he's one of the most cunning brains of Gotham, he's got the money, resources, and adventurous spirit. Problem is, he's The Penguin. And suddenly, all that he has becomes overblown, outlandish, theatrical, and out of touch purely because it's him trying to do all those things. He's a gentleman adventurer gone rogue, the Count Fosco of the DCU, and that only makes it amusing, even endearing, when Penguin does engage in the swashbuckling antics he's so fond of.

When all his plans go to hell and so he starts fencing Batman, or when he commands henchmen with superflous fancy language, or even when Oswald gives the whole "hero" thing a shot and we see he's actually not bad at it, maybe he actually could have been one if it wasn't for the bile drowning his heart and the hellscape that warped innocent young Cobblepot into Gotham's Penguin, a name that immediately denotes something silly and ridiculous, and he carries it with pride, because he will make you respect that name.

And that's just a couple of reasons. I really, really love this character to the point of obsession and the main reason why I ever wanted to write stories for DC was to get to write Penguin and at least try to do the character a little more justice. But if nothing else, Penguin endures, regardless of what happens to him, in and out of universe. If nothing else, that's a very admirable quality in a supervillain. Oswald is the best.

[into-crazy]

little something

Just some headcanons where J gifts you Louboutins

Ledger!Joker x Reader

Warnings- Cursing, mentions of criminal activity, brief nsfw points, ages 18+

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim any rights to the products that are mentioned in this post. Copyrights of the mentioned products belong to Christian Louboutin.

This is probably the most random set of headcanons I've done so far. I don't know exactly how this came to me, but it did and I just kinda rolled with it. To be honest, I'm not sure if anyone will like this or not. But if you do, then hey thanks!!

J never criticized your style or choice of clothing. The man found you gorgeous in everything or nothing at all. It wasn't the clothes which made you attractive. No. The fact that you're so unapologetically you, now that he found attractive. You were fearless in expressing yourself in and out of your clothing.

Sure J didn't care much, but he did pay attention. His attentiveness had him noticing when one of your articles was new. Every so often would he even give his attempt at a compliment on them.

"I like that shirt. It's new, right?" // "Those jeans are lookin' real good on ya, doll." // "Oh is that a new little bra ya got there, bunny? Hm, I want nothing more than to tear that off of you right now. But I won't since ya just got it.. although, ya could get another.."

To others, these might have come off as creepy. But you found them pretty endearing.

With a unique taste for various styles, you appreciated going to thrift shops. Those places usually have the cutest clothes which you could mend to your liking. Cheap articles to style and wear as your own. Department stores with moderately priced clothing were a go-to, too.

Without bragging, you had a great talent for wearing cheap clothes and making them look expensive. You knew how to style and accessorize. Put together a $15 pair of jeans, $4 top, a $40 pair of shoes and you've got an amazing outfit to work with.

You avoided high end departments. Even though you had the money to indulge and shop in them, you simply chose not to. You didn't see the appeal for overpriced clothing.

Hundreds, sometimes even thousands, of dollars for something that you'd just wear. Simple attire that was priced as such because they're popular and high end. No way you're going to cough up $150 for a simple brand top with a tiny logo. That should be a crime all in its own for robbery! Plus, often times the department clerks and other shoppers in those shops were snobby, rude, and rather nosey.

Though there was one luxury brand item that struck your fancy- Louboutin red bottoms. The high-end stiletto footwear that incorporates shiny, red-lacquered soles. Now those are a sexy pair of heels. Very elegant and stylish. Also in the hundred/thousand dollar range, but ohh are they so worth it. Although you thought it would be nice to own a pair or two, you wouldn't buy them.

You casually brought it up to J one time as you skimmed through a magazine. On one of the pages, there was an advertisement for the stilettos. You'd shown him the picture. "Now, I'm not one for material things. But these, I'd definitely wear these."

J listened in curiosity, he knew you so well. You didn't buy expensive things for yourself, and you never asked him for them. However, he seen it in your eyes how much you wanted them. If you saved up, you could buy them for yourself. Plus J had a large amount of stolen money to give to you- which you never asked him for any of, either. He could steal them for you. But then again, you never asked. So he engaged. "If ya like 'em so much, why don't you have any?"

"Hell no!" You retort. "Could you imagine if I were to walk around Gotham in those expensive heels? I'd be a walking target!" You remind him that your goal is NOT to draw unwanted attention while you go about your daytime life.

I mean, you both know that you can take care of yourself. You had knowledge of basic self-defense combat and how to handle a various array of weapons. Special thanks to J for helping you spruce up on your tactics and even teaching you new techniques. Also, you always carry a concealed handgun when going out. So to the best of your abilities, you can hold your own. It's just better not to opt for any more problems.

J doesn't say anything after that, he simply hummed. But the thought had started bouncing around in his already busy mind. A new task. He figured since he wore custom high-cost clothing, the best of the best, then why shouldn't you own a nice pair of shoes? After all you're his, and he wanted to give it to you.

A few days later, you came home to a sight that genuinely surprised you- Set up nicely around your living space, there were 8 large Louboutin gift bags arranged on the floor. No question, you already knew they were from J.

You chuckled and shook your head in disbelief. You hadn't thought that J had actually taken that brief comment you made about liking these shoes into consideration.

Each bag contained a brand new pair of the signature stilettos in various colors and styles. Two of them being boots for when the weather's colder.

You were surprised that he'd gotten them in the correct size. He really does pay attention. Or perhaps he rummaged through your closet to find out for himself. Whatever the case was, you didn't care. Since J rarely ever got you any gifts, and never anything as pricey as these. So you savored the precious moment.

He left the receipt in the gift bag containing the classic black pair of stilettos. He'd actually bought them rather than just steal them, which would've been a more ideal and convenient thing for him to do. Come on, he's The Joker. When's the last time he ever paid for something?

He'd even left a note for you to find in one of the boxes. Written in his own scraggly handwriting- No one's gonna mess with you, I will make sure of that xoxo -J

Tears formed beneath your eyes, how much you wanted to thank him. Hug him, squeeze him tight. Kiss his painted lips and face repeatedly while his face scrunched in mock annoyance to your affections. It deeply frustrated you that you couldn't right then. But alas, he had a city to terrorize and a caped crusader to antagonize. So you had to hold on to that energy for a later time.

You don't know what you've done to deserve such a bitterly sweet(but will never fucking own up to it) man as your J.

Pairing the red bottoms along with the articles in your wardrobe was a tricky task. But with your natural talents and a bit of shopping, you've managed to put together some classy and elegant outfits.

You'd even purchased a tasteful, sparkly anklet with a letter J on it. Which undeniably, J surely liked to see on you- THEN coupled with a pair of heels he'd gotten you? Now that's a sight he's very pleased to see.

It was something which J was quite fond of- you expressing your appreciation for his gifts. Just don't expect him to admit that.

It's also no surprise that you'd wear the stilettos with lingerie(or nothing at all) and it leads to some pretty steamy sex sessions.

J especially savors the pleasant sting as they dig into his lower back when he's on top of you. So don't be shy to dig those heels in there!

When you just so happen to wear out your red bottoms, J might consider getting you a new pair or two. Again, as receiving gifts from him are rare occurrences. But at the times which he does surprise you with a gift, no matter what it is, it never fails to take your breath away.

[mandos-sluts]

The Apology

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dubious consent, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, alcohol consumption

Summary: You cause Mando’s negotiation to break down seek a way to make it up to him

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You and Mando have been working as partner bounty hunters for about six months. The two of you just apprehended and turned in a bounty that was incredibly difficult to catch. But Mando was especially driven to catch her not because the price on her head was super high (though it was), but because there was a possibility the two of you would be able to collect the payout in beskar. The agency that put the bounty on her has a considerable reserve of beskar, and Mando has heard that they have paid out in beskar before.

The two of you arrive at the cantina where you’ve arranged to meet with a representative from the firm to negotiate your payment. You are exhausted and extra irritable— that bounty put up a grueling fight. You and Mando slide into a booth as a waiter approaches your table.

“Your strongest spotchka please.” You tell the waiter.

Mando turns his head and looks at you. “Y/n.” He says in a low, warning tone.

“What, Mando? We just turned in a bounty which we spent over a week hunting. I’m allowed to have a drink.”

The waiter returns with your drink and it’s gone within the minute. You set your empty glass on the table as a frail middle-aged man walks up to your booth.

Mando rises eagerly to his feet. “Hello sir, thank you for coming.” He says, shaking his hand. You don’t bother to stand, instead offering him a silent smile. You and Mando are partners, but this whole beskar exchange is his forte, and you’re fine with letting him take the lead.

“I understand that you would like to negotiate for your payment to be in beskar.” The man says sitting across from you and Mando.

“That’s correct sir. Thank you for meeting with us.” Mando returns. You’ve never seen him be so polite and formal with someone before.

“My consortium pays out in beskar very rarely. And that is typically only when the value of the Imperial Credit or the Calamari Flan are especially volatile. But both currencies are stable right now, why should we pay you with our limited beskar reserves?”

Mando begins his argument. *see gif* You pretty much zone out, slouched beside him. You know he’s saying something about how beskar is sacred to Mandalorians and how the amount you’re willing to accept in beskar is much less than they would pay you guys in a different form.

“Well, we would like to be in good standing with you.” You hear the man say as you zone back in. “And you must be one hell of a bounty hunter if you’re able to afford escorts as young and pretty as her.” The man says pointing at you. “Maybe I'll use the credits we don’t pay you to pick one of them young things up for myself.”

You lift your head and sit up straight. Being a woman bounty hunter, you get sexist comments like this all of the time. You usually ignore them, especially in high-pressure situations like this. However, you downed that spotchka you ordered and the alcohol is overriding the voice in your head that tells you to keep your mouth shut.

“I’m not a sex worker, I’m his hunting partner.” You assert, completely unamused.

“Hahahaha oh that’s cute. Sure you are, sweetheart.” The man cackles.

“And ya know….you probably wouldn’t need to pay women to be around you if you weren’t such a creepy pervert.” You say harshly.

Instant regret.

The tone in the booth immediately shifts. Shock and offense cover the man’s face.

“...Excuse me?” He says slowly rising from his seat with his palms on the table.

Mando quickly stands. “Sir, I’m sorry, she didn’t mean that. Please we–”

“Who the hell do you think you are?! You come in here asking for a favor and then disrespect me!?” The man yells down at you. “Here!” He tosses a bag of coins on the table. “Enjoy your Imperial credits!” He spits before turning and storming away.

“Wait sir, the beskar–” Mando pleads, but the man is already out the door.

You feel the guilt rise in your stomach. “Fuck! Mando I’m so sor–”

“Shut up. Let’s go.”

“Mando wait let me go talk to hi–”

“Let’s go!” He barks at you, making you jump.

You spend the walk back to the Crest profusely apologizing to Mando. He stays silent and doesn’t even acknowledge you. He’s walking so fast you’re running to keep up with him.

You desperately seek a response from him, but Mando enters the ship without saying a word. He makes his way up the ladder and you follow.

“Mando! I fucked up, I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have said anything. I know how important recovering beskar is to you, and I’m so sorry. I was drunk and….and I’m so so sorry!” You plead as your eyes fill with tears.

“Mando.” You beg, voice cracking as tears begin rolling down your face, “Please, please say something.” You cry as you pull on his arm. He yanks away from you and walks silently into the cockpit.

Mando has been livid with you before. You guys have engaged in plenty of screaming matches throughout your six months working together. They typically stem from you doing things he doesn’t think are safe, or the two of you disagreeing on what strategy you should employ to catch a bounty. But you’ve never seen him like this before. He’s more upset than angry; he’s disappointed. So much so that he doesn’t even want to yell at you. This is his creed, his religion, his people’s stolen commodity, and you just fucked up a chance for him to get some of it back.

Mando sits down in the pilot’s chair. You’re standing in the door to the cockpit behind him.

You take a deep breath. Your eyes are glossy and streaks of tears stain your cheeks. “Is–is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Mando spins around in his chair so that he is facing you. “Yeah.” He says shortly.

Your eyes widened. “W-what is it?”

“Get on your knees.” Mando says in a low, rough voice.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get on your knees.”

Your knees shake as you slowly lower yourself to the floor. You sit on your knees and stare up at Mando with wide eyes and a confused desperate look.

“Take your hair down and take your dress off.” He commands flatly.

“Um, wh–”

“Are you gonna make me tell you again?” He interrupts you.

You pull your hair tie out of your hair, letting it fall down past your shoulders. You look up at Mando sitting in the chair, and see that he’s rubbing an unmistakable bulge over his pants.

Arousal shoots through your core and you can feel your panties become damp. He takes off his gloves and drops them to the floor. You begin slowly unbuttoning your dress, and Mando unbuttons his pants, removing his hard thick cock as he stares at you. He starts slowly stroking his length with his hand, sitting there, unapologetically watching you undress on your knees in front of him.

You can’t believe what’s happening. You’ve fantasized about Mando almost every night since you became a team, but you never envisioned something like this.

You pull your dress over your head and set it down on the cold metal floor next to you. You weren’t wearing a bra, so you’re completely naked except for a thong. Mando stands up and starts slowly creeping toward you, his cock in hand. Your head tilts higher and higher as he nears you with your gaze on his visor.

He stops when he’s standing directly above you, pumping his cock just inches away from your face which is still fresh with tears.

“M-Mando, I–”

“Shut up.” He snaps, grabbing your chin with his other hand. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “I only want your mouth open if my cock is in it.” He pulls your face toward his member and you instinctively part your lips as Mando pushes it into your mouth.

You’re in shock by what’s happening, but you manage to gather your composure and you begin sucking his dick. In any other situation, you would tease him by licking his length or starting only with the tip, but you figure it’s best to jump right in.

“Fuck.” Mando says under his breath, surprised at how readily you started bobbing your head.

You take a deep breath through your nose and move one of your hands to his thigh to steady yourself and the other to the bottom of his shaft and move it up and down along with your head.

Mando’s breathing picks up. “You’re such a fuckin brat.” He spits, weaving his hand into your hair on the back of your head.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and begin to take more of his length. “F-fuck your mouth feels so good.” Mando breaths out.

You let out a whimper and look up into his visor. His words encourage you to bob your head faster.

“Shit, y/n. You’re sucking my cock better than I thought you could. You do this a lot before, little slut?”

You feel arousal shoot to your pussy at the vulgar things that he— your hunting partner, your colleague— is saying to you. You can feel that your panties are soaked.

Mando’s grip on your hair tightens and he begins thrusting his hips. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about shoving you to your knees and forcing my cock into that annoying mouth of yours?”

Breathing through your nose, you try your best not to gag as you let him take control. You want to show Mando how good you are at this— how much you can satisfy him.You bring your hand up and start kneading his balls, and Mando grunts. He can’t believe how submissive you’re being.

“Pfft, you’re a– a desperate little whore, letting– letting me fuck this delicate little throat of yours.” Mando says between thrusts. “You know you could tell me to stop, but you like this don’t you? You like being treated like a slut.”

You let out a pathetic whimper, signalling how right he was. You love that Mando is using you and fucking out his frustrations on you.

“Bet your panties are soaking wet.” Mando says. He takes his cock out of your mouth and grabs your upper arms. “In fact, let's see.” He says as he pulls you up off your feet. Mando sits down in the pilot’s chair and throws you over his lap.

Your head is near the ground and your ass is perched up on his lap. Mando spreads your ass cheeks apart and peers down at the drenched thin fabric covering your pussy. He grabs the top of your thong and wraps it around his hand. He pulls it up, making the fabric pull against your clit. You let out a yelp but he doesn’t relent, pulling it so hard until it snaps. He tosses the stretched broken panties to the ground and gazes down at your glistening, soaking wet cunt.

“Ha. I knew it. Fuck. Look at this desperate pussy.” Mando runs his middle finger through your folds. “Poor little girl. That why you’re being such a brat? Huh? You needed someone to fill your neglected little hole?”

Without warning, Mando plunges his middle finger into your hole and starts pumping it fast. Your mouth opens and whines begin to fall from your lips. Mando’s other hand slaps your ass. And you scream out. He spanks you a few more times, each harder than the one before.

The sounds of your whimpers, the sounds of his hand striking your soft skin, and the sounds of your obscenely wet pussy gushing as his fingers pump it fill the otherwise silent cockpit.

“Fuck your pussy is tight, y/n.” Mando spits. “You did such a good job with my cock in your mouth, let’s see how your pussy takes it.” He says flipping you around so that you are straddling him.

“Mando, I-I don’t know if it’s gonna fit!” You cry as you bring your hand down to cover your hole.

“I’m gonna make it fit.” Mando growls back, shoving your hand away and lining his member up with your entrance. But then, noticing the genuine worry in your eyes, he changes his tone.

“Come on, baby girl, open up for me.” Mando purrs softly. With his hands on your hips, he slowly guides your hips down so that just his tip enters you. He can feel your body relax.

You let out a breath and stare deeply into his visor, your hands are wrapped around his neck. You begin moving up and down his length, each time taking more of it into you as your moans become louder and your mouth falls open.

Mando lets out a grunt once his cock is fully engulfed by your walls. He can’t help but thrust his hips up as you begin to pick up your pace. Your moans become screams as his harsh thrusts upward coincide perfectly with the drop of your hips.

Mando is driving deep into your cunt as fast as he can. He moves one of his hands to your throat and squeezes it. “You– you gonna behave now, you little brat?”

“Y-yes, daddy.” You whimper back.

“Yeah? You gonna be a good girl for me?” Mando says as he aggressively spanks your ass.

All you can do at this point is nod in response. Your mouth agape and uncontrollable wails fall from your lips.

“You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you? Letting me fuck the shit out of this prestine cunt of yours. Calling your partner daddy. Do it again.” He commands. “Call me daddy.”

“Daddy! D-daddy please– please don’t stop.” You cry out, gripping his shoulders and neck for dear life.

“Fuck, this pussy is– is so good. I might just have you sit on my cock while I– while I pilot the fucking ship.” Mando says.

He moves his hand back down to your waist and pushes your back so that he’s holding you up against him. His cold beskar feels so good against your nipples. Mando starts thrusting even faster and his grip on you tightens as he feels his orgasm approaching. Then Mando abruptly lifts you off his lap and drops you onto your knees in front of him. He stands up, pumping his member with his hand.

He’s panting. “I’m gonna cum on that pretty face of yours.”

You close your eyes and stick out your tongue, just as you feel Mando’s warm juices rain onto your face. “Ahhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkk.” He moans, looking down at your docile expression as he paints your skin with his cum.

“You look good like this.” Mando says with a slight chuckle as he bends down. He runs his thumb across your chin and then puts it in your mouth. You obediently suck his finger before he pops it out and grabs you a rag.

You wipe your face off. “Mando, I’m sorry.” You say flatly.

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry too.” He says sincerely. “That guy was an asshole.”

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