#and obviously there is hard evidence with my paper

[tardis--dreams]

Ok i reported her after she sent me two more emails. It's not gonna do anything but i just really wanted my lecturer to know so-

[letzgetsilly]

Pov I’m 9 years old, Fact Or Faked is up next, and I’m about to be traumatised by a picture of the mothman

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

[parfaitblogs]

ive got quite a few... but we will start off simple and with something ive been DAYDREAMING about for a while

so reader is a new forensic scientist that started a lab in office for easier analysis of evidence (garcia reasonablism and best friendedness obviously) and earlier seasons reid likes to go in and hang out with her often and just be with her and they are both idiots in love and the first kiss is super rushed and akward; TEETH ROTTING FLUFF

i am too cryptic i fear but i will sell my left kidney for this fic PLEASE

spencer reid x forensic scientist!reader. fluff. 1.4k words. s1 spence!! descriptions of a case (typical cm stuff). std discussion? sorta? it's about a victim. reader doesn't have one don't worry. they're nerds your honour. 

a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long?? writing fluff is not my strong suit (clearly). i researched bacteria for this fic. and std's. if penelope garcia looked up my search history she would ask why i'm asking about how to treat chlamydia. if the science talk is wrong, no it's not this is MY alternate reality. also i am but a wee acting major i know nothing about science? ANYWAYS thank u for the request angel it was so fun to write i hope i did it justice ♡ 

"Hey... I brought coffee."

Your head lifted from the computer screen you had been staring at for the past hour and a half, blinking your eyes to readjust to a light that wasn't blue — you were a big believer in warm toned overhead lights or nothing, and it was your first order of business upon getting a lab in the Quantico building. 

Your eyes softened upon recognising the man in your doorway, and your hands outstretched towards him to take the paper cup from him. 

It was a particularly gruelling case — a man putting victims through a meat grinder (charmingly so) meant your ability to positively ID victims based on... well, anything you'd usually ID them on, was out of the question. You were down to tampered with blood samples, and you were getting nothing. 

"Angel. Sent from heaven, I swear," you said, taking a sip of the warm, sweet (because anybody who drinks coffee black should be locked up) beverage that would help you in the long run. Spencer Reid's lips twitched into a smile — anxious, like the rest of him usually is whenever he's in your lab — and he dropped his gaze to the floor with a small shrug. 

"I thought you might need it. I know it's hard. This case," he said, and you nodded your head with an affirming nod.

"Tell me about it," you mumbled, spinning around in your chair, back to your computer, waving him over. "See this?" you pointed to the list of findings in one of the samples.

Your breathing hitched when you felt him behind you, not expecting him to be so close, his own breath audible by your ear. 

He hummed quietly as he read through the list, and you turned your head to the side to look at him. His lips were pulled into a frown as you watched him register everything — and God, was he pretty. "Yeah... Salmonella, Enteritidis, Listeria... they're all bacteria you can find in chicken. Raw chicken, to be precise. Did they send you chicken blood by mistake?" 

"That's what I thought," you said, snapping out of your Reid-induced-haze, and clicked at your computer until you pulled up another list. "But then I found these as well; Streptococcus mutans, Porphyromonas gingivalis, Fusobacterium and Lactobacillus. From the same sample. And I cross-checked it with all of them, and they're all like that. So I sent that to Garcia and asked if she could do some looking into butcher shops in the area, and she came up empty. So now I'm at a loss."

"Weird," he murmured, leaning further forward over your shoulder to stare at the screen a little more intently, and you found your breath hitching at it. Again.

"What do you see?"

"Chlamydia trachomatis."

"Oh. Yeah, all of the samples have it," you explained, and he nodded his head, before turning it to look at you. 

"Well, what do you do when you have a sexually transmitted disease?" he asked.

"Me? I don't—I don't know. I've never had a—" you cut yourself off when you saw his lips twitch into a smile, and your brain caught up with what he had just said, and your lips parted in an 'o' shape in realisation. "You'd go to your doctor."

"And if they all have it, then that means that—"

"—it's the UnSub whose got it," you cut him off, eyes lighting up as you sat up straighter. "Oh my God, I don't know how I didn't make that connection. Spencer Reid I need to reiterate that you are an angel sent from the heaven above, I could kiss you."

His eyes went wide, and his entire being froze, followed swiftly by you yourself freezing too, words you let spill past your lips registering a second too late. 

He stared at you. You stared at him. It was an awkward game of who would look away first, and it went on for hour long minutes. You needed to clear your throat but refused to, your lips opening and closing as you searched your brain for something — anything — to say to break up this tension.

"Are you serious?"

It was a meek whisper, and had you not been so hyper focussed on his lips, you probably would've missed it. You forced your gaze up to his eyes, catching the red tinge on his cheeks, mirroring your own. You decided if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you wouldn't complain.

"I mean, no," you force past your lips. A sentence you soon sorely regret when you watch a flicker of what you recognise to be hurt flash across his face. Maybe your brain made that expression up. Maybe it didn't. If it did, it was too late to consider that option, because you were already rambling again. "Unless you want me to be serious. In which case yes, I am totally serious. If not, then I'm not."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and an embarrassingly nervous laugh left your lips. 

"Yes. I'm serious," you finalised. Because at least if he found that embarrassing and didn't feel the same back, you could kick him out of your lab and avoid him until you manage to swap units. Or move halfway across the world. Whichever came first.

Neither needed to come first, it seemed. Because his tense body shifted, turning to face you, his own eyes seemingly locked on your lips, the same way yours were only minutes prior. 

"Is it okay if I..." he trailed off, a hesitant hand reaching up to your face, waiting for your confirming nod before his fingertips relaxed on your cheek. You weren't even kissing him yet, and you already felt that nervous-excited mix pooling in your stomach.

He was in the same boat as you, his own breathing hitching when you didn't pull away instantly from his touch. But then he simply stared at you, for maybe a minute too long, because an exasperated sigh left your lips before you could stop it.

"You know, you actually have to put your lips on mine to kiss, Spencer," you say, and though your intent wasn't to fluster him, you did. 

"Yes, I—um, I know. I've just never... what if I screw this up?" he stammered, and your lips pulled into a smile. 

"Worst thing you can do is be a bad kisser."

"That's embarrassing."

"Just a little," you agreed with a nod, watching his face fall, and you laughed at the expression. "I'm kidding. It's not that hard, and you're good at everything."

"Not this."

"You don't know that."

He fell silent, and you knew you had won the verbal argument — he was certainly still disagreeing in his mind, but he was always good at picking his battles. 

But you knew he was never going to kiss you first. Not when one hand was flexing weirdly by his waist, unsure of what to do with it, and he was so awkwardly holding one cheek with the other. 

It was the only reason why you placed two palms on his own cheeks and pulled his face towards you. He let out a shocked yelp that had you laughing for only a second, cutting the sound off short with your lips on his. 

Spencer Reid was in fact good at everything. 

He was hesitant at first, and you wondered if he was ever going to kiss you back. But he did, and then you wondered if he was lying about never kissing anybody before.

Because he was insanely good, and the way he kissed you was maddening and addictive and it seemed you were (addictive) as well, for he was chasing your lips even when you tried to pull away. So you didn't, and instead allowed him to keep kissing you with so much pace and force you thought you'd break. 

"Spence... can't... breathe," you gasped out, and he pulled back in an instant, his eyes going wide. 

He was stammering out apologies that fell on deaf ears, because you were staring at him and he was gorgeous. In every sense of the word. With hair that had fallen into his glassy eyes, cheeks as pink as his lips that were screaming to be kissed again, need for oxygen be damned. 

And actually, if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you would complain. Very loudly.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[amourane]

falling for you

pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff, college au

w/c: 2.6k

summary: in which soonyoung struggles to ask you out on a date.

warnings: none!

a/n: if you saw the first post u didn't cuz tumblr made a mess of it and now i gotta repost it TT

"Jihoon!" A voice hissed from behind him. "Jihoon, here! Behind you!" He spun around to face...a bush. 

"When did plants learn how to talk?"

"It's me you idiot!" A hand shot out grabbing Jihoon's arm, pulling him into the bush. Soonyoung had twigs, leaves and something that looked like a ladybug but no one could ever be so sure. He was fiddling with the hem of his sweater, his cheeks bright red. “I just saw Y/n!” 

“So?” Soonyoung’s eyes bulged incredulously like Jihoon was supposed to know why his best friend looked like he had been living in the wild for a week. 

“Jihoon, you don’t just reply with ‘so’ and make it some question. You should know this!” Soonyoung shook his friend by his shoulders, squishing his cheeks painfully. “Obviously it’s because I saw her walk by and obviously I went up to talk to her but obviously I fell. I don’t even know how I fell and I was going to stand back up and continue to talk to her but she was already gone. And I have this huge stain.” He pointed to the brownish green patch on his white cotton sweater. “Everything’s just a mess!”

“Okay first of all, calm down Shakespeare.” Jihoon rolled his eyes, picking his best friend up. He tugged the sweater over Soonyoung’s head. “You could’ve just taken this off, you’ve got a shirt underneath anyway. And it’s been a week and you still haven’t asked her out?”

“Well, it’s hard alright.” Soonyoung nibbled his bottom lip. “Also Mingyu’s always around her and I can never seem to get her alone.”

“Now you’re just making excuses.”

Jihoon knew his best friend. He knew Soonyoung. If Soonyoung wanted something he’d probably fight the world for it. He remembered that one time he’d been so desperate to win Mario Kart against Jihoon that he’d dumped his water all over him. Jihoon was positively fuming, not because he’d lost but because Soonyoung had gotten his favourite shirt wet. 

Needless to say, Kwon Soonyoung would eat avocados for the rest of his life if it meant he’d get to ask you out. That was why it was weird that the guy who could probably fight zombies single handedly in an apocalypse couldn’t ask a cute girl out. 

“Hey what’s this?” Jihoon reached for the piece of paper hanging out of Soonyoung’s pocket. The boy flushed red, trying to grab the paper back from Jihoon. When he realised it was no use he slumped back a pout evident on his face. 

“You’re not allowed to judge me-”

“You really are a dork.” Jihoon snorted, examining the A3 piece of paper with ‘ASKING Y/N OUT’ scrawled on the top in big black marker. The page was filled with annotations and little diagrams that were all coloured in neatly. All the possibilities were drafted out, some more silly than others. “You were thinking of taking her to NASA?!” 

Soonyoung’s ears burned. He squirmed. “I mean it’s always a possibility but I think that would kind of ruin me.”

Jihoon watched as his best friend avoided his gaze, fingers anxiously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smiled. He’d never seen Soonyoung this nervous to ask a girl out. It was oddly endearing. He continued to scan the paper, a little shocked that Soonyoung had put so much effort into this plan. 

So this was definitely not a little crush. 

//

“Okay listen.” Jihoon grabbed Soonyoung’s shoulders. They were currently outside the classroom you were in. He had devised this plan perfectly so that Soonyoung would actually ask you out without embarrassing himself. “Y/n’s going to come out here in approximately five minutes. You’re going to walk up to her and say ‘are you free this Saturday?’ and then she’ll say yes and then BAM instant date!” He clapped his hands together for exaggerated effect. 

“Jihoon, where are my flowers? And I can't be wearing this!” Soonyoung grabbed his black hoodie. “I can’t ask Y/n out like this. We need a suit and I need roses and some type of confectionery to win her over!”

Jihoon blinked like an owl. C-Confectionary?! Who the hell speaks like that anymore? Clearly Soonyoung had been watching too many romance movies. “You don’t need flowers or some fancy clothes to win Y/n over. You just need you, she likes you, not some dolled up Barbie.”

“It’s actually Ken who’s the main male-”

“Oh look here she comes.” He pushed Soonyoung hard. The poor boy stumbled clumsily, promptly bashing into you. He had to stop doing that. “Go get her!” Was all Soonyoung heard before he felt his soul die. 

You held Soonyoung steady. A small giggle left your lips. He blushed. You were even cuter today. Which was normally impossible but you were obviously special. The sweet smile you gave him nearly had him fainting. 

What was it Jihoon had said again? Oh yes, ask you out. He could do this.

“Did you need something Soonyoung?” 

Your voice was gentle and soft like a marshmallow. He could feel himself melting just at your words. Nope can’t do this. Soonyoung nearly spun around but when he caught sight of Jihoon’s deadly glare he retreated. Jihoon wasn’t someone you wanted to get angry. Guess he was going to have to do this.

“I...um…” He waved his arms around pathetically. It didn’t help that you were looking at him so innocently. “T-This Saturday you free...?” Soonyoung wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His cheeks burn bright red and he coughs. Not only did he completely butcher the English language but his voice cracked. Cracked! 

“I’m free this Saturday.” You grinned, eyes twinkling. Soonyoung felt his heart flutter. “I’ll text you okay?” You tucked a piece of paper into his hand before waving at him as you caught up to Mingyu. He watched as the two of you talked, you bursting into a fit of giggles, blushing.

The whole situation had happened so quickly it had made his head spin. A loud smack on his back brought Soonyoung back to reality. Jihoon stood behind him with a proud grin on his face. 

“Now we’ve just got to get you through this date.”

//

Soonyoung checked his watch for what felt like the upteenth time. It read, 11:13. He had said to meet him at 11 o’clock but maybe he was just early. Maybe you were stuck in traffic or something. He had spent about half an hour picking his outfit, with help from Jihoon of course because he could never decide on anything. 

It did look a little pathetic. Soonyoung sighed. Did you stand him up? You wouldn’t be that mean, would you?

“Soonyoung!” You were panting behind him, looking as if you had just run a marathon. Your chest heaved. “I'm so sorry. I lost track of time and everything kind of just went haywire-”

“I-It’s okay.” Soonyoung squeaked, wringing his hands. His eyes tried not to drift towards your chest. You were wearing a bright yellow sundress that hugged your body, little flowers dotted all over. The thin straps on your shoulders were tied in little bows at the top. He swallowed. 

“You’re not upset?” Your eyes were wide. The familiar scent of your jasmine perfume wafted to Soonyoung's nose and he shook his head. He could never be upset with you, that’d be ridiculous. You smiled. “Well, where are we heading?” 

He gave you a small grin. To say that Soonyoung has connections with people was an understatement. He had connections with everyone. That sounded a bit weird but everyone knew Soonyoung. It wasn’t like the town was small or anything, he was just known by everyone. Even the grumpy old lady that sold newspapers knew him.

Now normally he would have a plan for this, it was all written down. Sadly, Jihoon had ripped it up and threw it in the bin. Apparently having a plan was lame. Totally untrue, it was great to be prepared. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

//

“Oh my god!” You nearly tumbled to the ground at your shock. “How did you even manage to get in here? Isn’t this the Hong’s?” 

In front of you were rows beyond rows of strawberry bushes. The field seemed to stretch on forever. There was only one family in town that owned so many acres of land, the Hongs. You’d met their son, Joshua Hong, a couple of times at campus but everyone knew their strawberry fields were off limits. 

“My mum’s friends with Mrs Hong, used to go over to hers every week with apple pie. Me and Shua were friends for a while but then he got caught up in music and me, dancing. We still talk and I was lucky enough to get us in.” Soonyoung shrugs. “And it’s strawberry picking season.”

“Most boys would bring their date out to a fancy restaurant.” You picked a strawberry, popping into your mouth, savouring the sweet taste. “I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this.”

Soonyoung tried not to smile too wide. He couldn't contain his excitement. At first he wanted to take you to a lot of places in one day but Jihoon had said it was impossible to take you to the cinema, zoo, aquarium, ice cream shop and laser tag in 24 hours. So he settled on strawberries. Everyone loved strawberries, plus it was free because he knew Joshua. 

You slowly intertwined both of your fingers, holding his hand. Soonyoung felt his cheeks flare an embarrassing red as his eyes trailed down to both of your clasped hands. He felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest. There wasn’t a lot he could do but try not to faint. 

A small smirk crept up on his lips as he handed you a basket. “We’ll make a deal.” 

“A deal?” You looked at him confused, taking the basket. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s say, whoever picks the most strawberries decides where we’re having lunch and they pay as well.”

“Chivalry really is dead.” You rolled your eyes. If Kwon Soonyoung wanted to bet that he would pick more strawberries than you, then he best be prepared for war. You contemplated the thought. If you were to win you’d probably empty his pockets but if he won he would empty your pockets. It’s a 50/50 chance. 

You must have stayed silent for a tad too long because Soonyoung grew worried. 

“W-We don’t have to if you don't want to-” 

“Fine. No rules, just as many as we can pick.” You shook his hand, a playful grin on your face. “Be prepared to lose Kwon.” You dashed away.

“Hey, you’re cheating!” 

“No rules remember!” 

Soonyoung stood still, mouth open like a goldfish. He finally snapped out of it, chasing after you, determined to win. There was no way he was going to let you beat him. 

Or maybe he will. 

//

Soonyoung grasped his basket tightly. It was already nearly full with ruby red strawberries. No doubt they were sweet and juicy. He hadn’t seen you since you left him and it was slightly worrying. Hopefully you were fine. Hopefully.

"Y/n?" He calls over the bushes. No reply. Soonyoung trudged forward, still looking for you. A twig snapped from behind him. "Y/n?" He spun around only to see you reaching a hand inside his basket plucking a strawberry and stuffing it into your mouth. 

"They're really yummy, I should thank Joshua when I see him." You giggled, turning to flee again but this time Soonyoung grabbed your hand. A small squeak escaped your lips. 

"Don't you dare run away." His tone was light and teasing. You shrieked when he popped one of your strawberries into his mouth. "No rules remember." He smirked, playfully flicking your forehead. You threw a strawberry at him which he dodged. You pelt another and another. One hits him and you stifle your laughs. 

Soonyoung pulled you forward and you shut up. He leaned forward, breath fanning your face. You instinctively fluttered your eyes shut. 

"I'll see you later." He whispered, causing you to snap open your eyes, mouth dropping to the ground. You watched dumbfounded as he ran away. What happened to the shy Soonyoung?

//

“I only lost because you ate all of mine.” You pouted, folding your arms defiantly. It wasn’t your fault that he was so devastatingly cute that you just had to offer him some of your strawberries. He stole them from you, even if he insisted that you gave them willingly. 

“You’re in denial Y/n.” Soonyoung skipped happily next to you, swinging his full basket. Your pout deepened. “Now where’s the most expensive place to have lunch?” He pulled his phone out, tapping a few times before a smug grin took over his face.

“You’re going to empty my pockets.” You whined. 

Soonyoung grinned. “Come on we’ve got to catch the train otherwise we’ll be late. I’ll pay for the tickets.” A small smile flitted across your face before it reverted back into a pout. You huffed, letting Soonyoung clasped your hand as the two of you walked away. “If it makes you feel any better, you can have my strawberries.”

“I just wanna know what was with the personality change back then?”

His cheeks flushed bright red. “I can be confident too…”

“Don’t doubt it. I’ve seen you dance.” The look he gives you has you rolling your eyes. “You’re a totally different person when you’re in the studio.”

His cheeks flushed bright red again causing you to burst into a fit of giggles. 

//

“So what you’re saying is that the bill is too expensive and right now you’re hiding in the bathroom and, might I remind you, you left poor Soonyoung to fend for himself.” Mingyu said through the phone.

“It sounds worse when you say it aloud.”

“You can’t just ditch him Y/n, what are you going to do, climb out a window and escape?” He hissed. You stared at the tiny window at the back. If you did it right you could squeeze through. “If you’re thinking about climbing out of a window I will stop feeding you my brownies.”

“Hey hey hey. No need to deprive my need for brownies Gyu, have some respect.” He snorted, muttering under his breath. “I can still hear what you’re saying.” 

“Good.”

Okay maybe running inside the bathroom and hiding in a stall wasn’t going to solve all of our problems. But the bill was hefty and you would probably land yourself in prison if you did manage to pay for it. Also you couldn’t climb out of the window because you really did need those brownies. 

“I want you to go out there and say you can’t pay for it and ask Soonyoung to pay for it.”

“Gyu are you crazy?”

“You’re the one in a bathroom stall, not me.” And with that he hung up leaving you alone. You could do this. It was not that hard, not that hard.  

Soonyoung was still sitting at the table where you left him but this time all the plates had been cleared and he was staring at his phone. He looked up and smiled. “Thought you were gonna do something illegal. Don’t worry, I paid for everything.”

“D-Did you rob a bank before we came here?” Your mouth was hanging open. That was the only option, unless he really did have enough money but everyone your age was practically broke so…

Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “You didn’t actually think I was going to let you pay for all of that? You’re cute.” 

You were left gaping as he took your hand. What just happened? He said your line, your line. You were meant to call him cute. Soonyoung seemed to sense how confused you were because he shot you a dazzling smile.

“Told you I can be confident.”

[eloquentlytired]

the good cop chapter 1 𐙚˙ dark!walter marshall

pairing: dark!walter marshall x fem reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: always two steps ahead, the best in the department and your wise mentor; nothing could ever incriminate walter marshall because he is the good cop. but that ceases to exist when you discover who is behind your shadowy nightmares.

warnings for this fic : stalking — 18+ — non/dub con — age gap — angst — manipulation — creepy behavior

*no smut in this chapter. I will try to upload a new chapter once a week or faster if I'm rlly inspired ☺️

chapter two is out !

In the beginning it was unnoticeable.

“Don’t buy that. You will not like it.” Walter had said when you were choosing what to order for dinner during your night shift. There wasn't much to do tonight aside from paper work — at least you did not have any field work this time. For someone who had willingly and consciously decided to work as a police officer, it surely didn't make sense how much you preferred absolute peace. To most it was weird but to Walter it wasn't. “And how would you know? I happen to enjoy spicy food from time to time.” You replied while Walter simply rolled his eyes. “Buy it then. Beats me.”

An hour later your food arrived and Walter was peacefully enjoying his own noodles while you were practically gagging at yours because of how spicy they were. You shared a long awkward glance as your tear stained eyes silently pleaded with him for some assistance.

Walter let out a long-drawn sigh before switching your plates and offering you his own food instead. You watched in terror as he ate the spicy noodles without even blinking — how unfair yet at the same time charming. You shyly grabbed the noodles which once belonged to Walter and began eating them instead. “Thank you.” You muttered after a small bite. Perhaps it wasn't evident at that time but Walter was smiling and there was a rare glint in his eyes.

Halfway through it was discreet.

The job was well paid and you had been doing your best to decorate your apartment to your liking, in the closest to your imagination way. You were busy scrolling through your phone during one of your breaks that you didn't expect to suddenly bump against a hard chest. Two strong hands gripped you firmly by your shoulders and steadied you, not letting you fall. Your face blazed a little when you saw who it was.

“I’m sorry,sir. I wasn't looking.”

Walter of course scolded you, his eyebrows furrowed and his face strict. “If we were under attack right now, you would be dead because of your phone.” You gaped a little before shaking your head. “You underestimate my reflexes,sir. May I remind you of my score in—”

“Being distracted? I am sure it was splendid.” Walter cut you off before finally releasing the grip he had on you. You almost missed it because of how fast it had retreated but you obviously couldn't express such thoughts to him. He was your superior and your mentor. “Hey. Are you even listening?” Much to your embarrassment, you had managed to be distracted for the second time and never noticed Walter talking to you. That's what you got for daydreaming about him you guess. “Sorry what?” He couldn't possibly deny repeating himself when you looked at him like that. “You should stop smoking before patrols. I know you're anxious but it's a bad habit.” You looked at him dumbfounded for a few seconds before shaking your head. “How did you—”, “The smell. I always drive with the windows up in case you haven't noticed.” There's an evident flush on your face and it's definitely not there for a good reason. “I thought my cologne would keep me safe.” Walter nearly snorted at your words. “I’m a cop, not a child. But that's beside the point. Stop smoking.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask out of the blue which makes Walter look at you as if you've grown a second head. You sigh and explain further. “I have been trying to keep my anxiety a secret. I know we're all to be observant because of our job but...I thought I was hiding it well.” Something strange seemed to flicker within Walter’s eyes, an emotion you've never seen before, before he quickly blinked. His face was hard but composed. “I could only tell because of the time pattern. Perhaps I should've assumed you're scared of water and soap—”

You snorted. “Okay okay! Gums it is.”

Later on it was coincidental.

There was a loud ruckus occurring as Walter entered the office of the police department, his colleagues laughing while you were standing at the center with unshed tears in your eyes. His blood immediately ran cold and he tightened his grip around his water bottle, slamming it on the nearest desk. Everyone grew silent and you turned to look at him with your startled expression and puffy eyes — Walter couldn't shake off how pretty you looked when you were crying.

“What the fuck happened?” He asked out loud but no one dared reply to him except you of course. He was staring at you after all. “I..I lost something.” Walter stared at you for a moment before crossing his arms, seeming to tense a little. No one seemed to notice that part though. “What?” You sighed. “It’s my favourite lipstick. My mom got it for me for my birthday. It's the only one I wear!” It wasn't an emergency or anything remotely close to that which is why your colleagues had appeared amused. Walter, on the other hand, remained passive and with an unreadable expression occupying his face.

“You’re a cop. Calm down and retrace your steps.” Was the only help Walter offered to you before turning around and leaving the room. To you and the others, he was just pissed because you had disturbed the department’s peace.

To Walter, he was simply trying to shake off the feeling that your crying face gave him while he was clutching something solid in his pocket. A bright red lipstick encased by a golden wrapper with your initials on it.

He promised himself he'd return it. Sooner or later.

In the end it was a habit.

You were shaking as you sat in a chair across Walter, his office not giving you the comfort it used to. So many weird things were happening recently and if you didn't have an answer for them soon, you'd explode.

“And you’re certain this happened?” Walter asked while examining your report, his eyes appearing more intense than any other time. You immediately nodded at him while hugging yourself and his chest almost felt tight because of how scared you looked. “I swear. At first I thought I was imagining things. I mean... coming home during nightly hours will sometimes be dangerous and the darkness only enhances fear and the false thoughts that someone is following you right?” You were blabbering anxiously, your nails digging into your palms. “I was certain I was paranoid at first but then came the missing underwear.. some make-up and some jewelry too..” Walter’s gaze never strayed from you as you explained how things were, a stream of hot tears running down your rosey cheeks. You were crying and all he could think about was how pretty you looked again. “And I.. I wanted to confirm it myself.”

Walter clenched the report in his hand while leaning forward. “What do you mean by that?” Your eyes flickered from Walter to the floor. Your bottom lip was quivering as you spoke. “I fixed all my drawers one day and counted everything. The next day two underwear were missing.” You were surprised to see Walter’s face after you finished talking — he appeared nervous. Angry even.

There was utter confusion in your mind until Walter spoke. “While your method was fruitful, that was utterly stupid. Sacrificing one more night of sleeping with a potential stalker in your house for some evidence.” He made a lot of sense. As expected of a good cop. “I know but I—”, “This isn't the time to be a hero. You need our help. My help.” You watched him rise from his seat and circle his desk before coming to kneel before you, placing his hands on each side of your knees. “You’re not alone. You don't have to be.” He whispered and you shivered because of how genuine he sounded. How caring. Your eyes filled with hot tears again and before you could control it, you threw yourself into his arms and Walter immediately hugged you tightly. He shushed you softly as one hand caressed your hair whilst the other hugged your waist. “I’m scared.” You told him and Walter shushed you again, brushing his lips over your ear to soothe you. “I‘ve got you. I've got you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fell shut as you allowed yourself to grow limp against him. Walter rocked you within his arms, a low rumble making his chest vibrate. He could be a good cop for you with a few exceptions; like the amounts of lace underwear he kept in his house, well hidden in his closet, or the expensive jewelry he had stuffed inside some decorative vases. There were a few more exceptions of course — like candy wrappers and half finished cigarettes with lipstick marks on them.

And that red bright lipstick still swimming deeply into his pocket. But of course, you did not have to know that.

author’s note: I hope u guys like it so far!! please leave a like and a reblog if you enjoyed reading this!! I hope to see u again in the next chapter ☺️🩷 AND I RLLY LOVE COMMENTS & DISCUSSIONS !!

[luveline]

I feel like Hotch with a BAU!reader that has bad allergies? When they have to go elsewhere for a case and he knows to bring medication and plenty of tissues to subtly hand to reader because he knows they don’t like bringing attention to it even though it’s fairly obvious?

thank u for ur request! gn!reader

It's embarrassing —and a second, harder to explain emotion—, knowing your boss carries around tissues specifically for your sniffly nose. Worse knowing he has benadryl in his go bag, and worse again having to ask him for it. 

They're your allergies. You should have sufficient medication. Your job performance relies on it. 

You trudge across the grass of the field toward the big barn. You're on one of the biggest, most harrowing cases you've ever investigated, a mass murder hidden in the Canadian frontier under FBI jurisdiction because of the American victims. Hotch is especially upset by everything and hiding it behind silence and a brow furrowed so deeply you're sure that's it, that's how he's going to look for the rest of his life. 

You needing a tissue could not come at a worse time. 

Swallowing a lump, you cross the threshold. Hotch looks up at your steps. The zeroing in of his gaze on your red-rimmed eyes is nearly humorously instantaneous, but he doesn't ask, and you're ashamed to bring it up. 

"Emily back?" you ask him. 

"No. She and Morgan are still searching." He turns to the desk behind him, covered in old scrap tech. "How has handling the exterior evidence collection been?" 

"Um, it's still happening. You know. It's a lot to process physically." 

He gives you a look. If evidence is still being catalogued, why are you here?

"Hotch, do you have any benadryl?" you ask reluctantly. Your request is punctuated with a sniffle. 

Spencer comes barrelling into the room. "I found something." 

Hotch prioritises the case, obviously, but he gives you another look, this one saying, Come with me. You would've anyways, more than interested in what Spencer has to show. Together, the three of you head across the property to the barn, where Spencer climbs up a ladder into a hayloft. 

Hotch listens attentively, and he shoots off his own theories. You try very hard to listen and add your own input whilst smothering a sneeze, the itching sensation at the corners of your eyes like torture. 

A warm hand touches yours. 

You look down, already flushed with heat but your body is happy to do it again, apparently. Contact with Hotch is always so charged, at least on your end. 

His hand turns subtly outward, offering a small plastic wrapped packet of kleenex. You swear he holds onto it longer than he needs to, his fingertips brushing imperceptibly against yours as you take the tissues. 

You extract one without fuss to wipe your nose and dry your watering eyes. 

"I'm sorry," Hotch says quietly, as Spencer sorts through papers for something particular upstairs. "I meant to bring you these in the morning, but we've been here all night– it slipped my mind." 

You hate bringing any attention to yourself when it comes to your allergies, and you don't like thinking that Hotch is thinking about them when they aren't present, but then something twists into place in your head, so to speak, like an upside down puzzle piece righted, you can slot it into the picture without problem. The puzzle isn't finished or anything, but it's a clue. He's sorry he didn't give you any tissues this morning, preemptively, because he knew you'd have a reaction? 

Hotch must really care about you. 

But now isn't the time for that discussion. You're not sure what you'd say, anyways. 

You step in front of him a touch, a half step, and let your arm hang at your side. Hesitant, with your heart beating between your ears like a monkey toy on the cymbals, you reach backward. Your unsteady hand brushes against his. 

Hotch, brilliantly, astoundingly, brushes back. His index finger draws a slow, light line up your palm. 

"Here!" Spencer says, shocking you apart. He holds a drawing up over the wooden balcony. "Can you believe it?" 

Phantom heat crawls over your skin from Hotch's touch. You open your mouth to respond and find it promptly snapping closed as a sneeze rocks your entire frame. 

"Allergies?" Spencer asks. 

You groan. Hotch tells Spencer to keep working and turns to leave. "I'll go find those benadryl," he murmurs to you. 

You can't answer him, caught in the middle of a sneezing fit. 

[awsugar]

speaking of questions that exercise very mcr specific muscles in your brain. i was perusing mychem tumblr the other day and came across a masterpost about the SS/mayo blog frerard lore (i’m aware frerard is not PC these days thanks obama). i’ve been a dedicated fan for over a decade now and my brain is an mcr lore bank but i had literally never heard of this. do you know about it and if you do what are your thoughts

omg yea. ss/mayo is crazy. and unfortunately a lot of it has been lost to time and its not even saved on wayback. theres some stuff thats convincing, theres some stuff thats not.

so like lets preface this by saying that the ft willz myspace? confirmed to be frank. and obviously the stuff posted on skeleton crew, those screenshots of ft willz works that look like theyre on burnt paper? yea so those are confirmed and those are real fully frank no questions.

i personally am a skeptic of other accounts that claim to be ft willz. like the tumblr? i do not think thats frank. and i think that came at a time when people had already really speculated or figured out that ft willz WAS frank. so like i think the tumblr is honestly just someone who was pretending to be frank and managed to sort of emulate his style but yea i don't think it's him. i think the reason some of the stuff hits so hard in a frerard sense is because that was intentional by the person writing it. you know.

anyway ss and mayo. there were two blogs on blogspot started in 2007 i believe that fans thought were frank and gerard. well it started with mayo (its-mayonaise.blogspot.com). that blog is still up and so are a lot of the posts but i think a lot of them have been deleted as well, and not saved anywhere on wayback. im sure theyre on someones hard drive out there but i haven't seen them. then a blog appeared called iamthemodernprometheus.blogspot.com. some of those posts are still up but most are gone. that was ss/sss/shitsubou shita/frank (allegedly). ss started interacting in the comments on mayo's blog. and i think i may have read some mayo blog posts back in the day but i haven't been able to find them to answer this one. i just remember when i joined the fandom most people thought it was gerard.

now here's a couple things of evidence. THIS is a blogspot comment thread where people who have saved some of ss' blog posts put them in the comments. and yes obviously it could be an elaborate hoax by two fans who were invested in frerard. but like these things were being posted as it HAPPENED. you know? idk i wasnt there in 2007. but 2007 was when the fanfic took off and we really informed a lot of our perception of what happened with frerard on things like ft willz/stuff that happened on stage/and a lot of these posts really fit into the timeline. i would recommend reading that because its kind of hard to believe its like. a teenager pretending to be frank. it really just SOUNDS like frank. and he's really writing blog posts. basically to gerard lol. it gives the impression that they were on tour together (projekt rev) and doing the Thing but like there was def tension going on behind the scenes and we already know that thats true. frank didn't like eliza and thought gerard was moving too fast, the imnotokay.net post came from someone in mcr's camp that ppl thought was frank (or maybe brian) and then tbh its happening again?? just months later? it makes complete sense that if frank thought gerard was moving too fast with eliza that he DEFINITELY thought he was moving too fast with lynz getting MARRIED to her backstage just a couple months? after breaking off his engagement with eliza. anyway just read the comments. its very easy to believe its frank.

and then the other peice of evidece i found in this reddit thread: x comment in particular by u/ReallyKapu. they say that they have always gone by Kapunua online and that they met frank at a lm show, gave him a hat with the inscription 'sss' inside and later on he thanked them for it on the blog.

sure enough:

from what i've read it seems like the blog was actually a community. there were people who followed it and made friends in the comment section. and it does seem implausible but it looks to me like frank saved all of his gifts from tour and then made this post specifically thanking people for them. the person who claims this is them also says that they don't think mayo is actually gerard but that frank thought it was.

and i've seen stuff saying that if it wasn't gerard it was probably someone close to the band because they had like information that was posted on the blog that wouldn't come readily available (or make sense) until the show the next day.

anyway, i wasn't there for this. i was on the forums and twitter and tumblr for a LOT of mcr history but this was a little before my time and i think if i had been there OR if the blogs had actually been preserved in some way that i might be able to form a better opinion. i think theres a lot of evidence for frank, not sure about gerard. but i won't claim that it's true either bc we really don't know and this one i don't think we ever will!

[byhimawari]

“Chamomile”

(a RivaMika drabble)

“Captain?”

Really, fate could be so cruel. And he only calls it fate because given how comedically instantaneous this all happened – ‘this all’ being that he, her damn superior, was caught red handed pathetically slipping an envelope of his proclaimed feelings under her door like some lovesick teenager – it’s as though it was simply meant to be. Add in the fact that since that cursed letter is already in her room, he can’t take back the evidence of his humiliation.

But ever the stubborn type refusing to accept he’s embarrassed — because Captain Levi never gets embarrassed; no, not him — he plays it cool.

“Ackerman.”

“What are you doing here?” She asks, her tone a bit more surprised than curious, much to his relief.

“Hall monitoring,” his sarcasm a mask to hide any hint of suspicion, “What are you even doing out at the halls right now? It’s past curfew, you’re supposed to be in bed —“

“What did you just slide under my door?”

And like a fleeting bubble, the relief is gone. Of course it is. It’s Mikasa. Nothing ever comes easy with her, especially not the predicaments he puts himself in.

It’s when she raises a dubious brow that Levi knows he’s lost, that no matter what direction this conversation goes, Mikasa is inevitably going to see the envelope and read it. He obviously can’t take or ask for it back — because if he’s going to lose the whole battle, may he at least keep some dignity — so facing the music is his final card.

Though his mask stoic, he chooses to speak with honesty.

“A letter.”

“A letter?”

“Yes,” his heart races and it beats at his ear drums, but his voice is firm with resolve, “Read it thoroughly. Good night.”

“But — “

“I said good night, Ackerman.”

He feels her gaze on his back as he walks away, and when he turns the corner that, hears her door shut, the click of her lock an echo. By the time he reaches his quarters, she’s sure to have finished reading the letter. Levi tries to block off any possible reaction she may have, not wanting the picture the best in case it comes to the worse.

But still her smile creeps in.

Levi closes his door and approaches his desk, needing to keep himself productive before he’s consumed by the image of Mikasa finishing his letter with what he hopes is the same smile that keeps fighting to stay in his mind.

But on his desk is something that wasn’t there when he left. A small box. Inside the box are transparent mesh tea bags, a blend of tea leaves carefully sealed in each, its aroma herbaceous and floral. But it is what’s under the box that captures his eye: a folded paper. He unfolds it. It’s a letter.

—

Dear Captain,

I promise this is not a prank.

In fact, this is very hard for me to say, which I guess is why I’m writing to you in a letter.

I’m starting to fall in love with you. Actually, I think I already am. I miss you when you’re gone and I’m happy when you’re around, even if you’re grumpy and annoying. You make me feel complete, a feeling I believed no longer existed for me.

I know you’re my captain and that I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. I really don’t know when this happened. Or how. Or even why my heart chooses you despite it all. All I know is in this world of chaos, you are my calm.

And I hope when we next see each other, you’ll let me be yours.

Sincerely,

Mikasa

P.S. Chamomile is good for sleep.

—

He reads it, again and again. He even folds and unfolds the letter just to see if the words remained the same, if what he read is real.

Chamomile tea is good for sleep. Levi looks back at the box of teabags, each beautifully and intentionally handcrafted with care, with him and his poor sleeping habits in mind. Him in her mind.

Just how often does she look at him?

While his insomniac nature is no mystery to anyone in the Scouts, there’s this warmth in her gesture, this thoughtfulness that makes the act feel more than a result of mere observation. And as much as he’d hate to admit, he can’t deny the pull in his heart at the fact that this is the same stubborn brat who picks fights with him like a hobby – endearingly-so now to some degree, enough for him to write a damn confessional – that cares enough to individually tie bags of dried and diced chamomile leaves to help his with his sleep, gifted together with a letter of love…

A heartbeat thuds in his ear and his throat. His breath hitches softly as he looks back at the letter, entranced by Mikasa’s words that quite literally tell him she loves him, the tea a symbol of it. And if she read his letter, which he’s absolutely certain she did, she now knows that he does too.

And that realization alone is enough to tug at the corner of his lips, a rare smile that he’s not trying to hide for once, a smile reserved only for her. Levi’s never felt so elated. They’re in love with each other, now without any doubt, and it feels like a damn victory.

He has to see her.

But first…

—

Mikasa looks at the envelope in her hands, her name neatly scripted on the front with his distinctive handwriting. She doesn’t know what’s more incredible: that her captain just slipped a letter under her door or the fact that she literally returned from doing the very same. Albeit, she left hers by sneaking into his office to place it on his desk while knowing he’s out on night watch. Fortunately, she didn’t get caught.

And the only reason she didn’t get caught was because Levi, unbeknownst to her, was at her door.

Her heart races nervously as she rips open the envelope, pulling out the neatly folded paper.

—

Mikasa,

As I write this letter, I’m inconvenienced with emotions that words often struggle to convey. It’s not always easy to articulate what’s in my heart, but I feel it is essential to share these thoughts with you.

You’re a gloomy brat. Through and through. But it’s the way you carry yourself with grace and integrity, even in the face of challenges that made me fall for you in more ways than one.

And in this cruel life where tomorrow is not promised, I don’t want to live nor die with the regret that I’ve never told you that I love you.

Thank you for being who you are — stubborn, gloomy, and endlessly captivating.

Yours, regardless of not if you’ll have me.

Levi

—

The entirety of his letter was nearly overlooked with that pretentious closure of his, almost scoffing at his audacity. Of course he’d never miss the opportunity to make it clear that everything will always be his way.

Yet, it’s that very audacity that warms her cheeks and curves her lips, the kind that unleashes the butterfly-like flutters in her chest and tells her that this is the ‘calm’ she sought for from him all this time.

Her words and his, both hand delivered, a request…

In this world of chaos, you are my calm. And I hope when we next see each other, you’ll let me be yours.

… and an answer.

Yours, regardless or not if you’ll have me.

—

The smile on her face grows, her eyes softening into admiration and something like relief. His answer had already been ready for her, long before she dropped off hers.

He loves her. He *loves* her. A profound emotion overwhelms her, like that of a lost hope reincarnating into something that tells her she’s actually worth loving. And as she reads over the letter once more, the warmth in her heart and the glisten in her eyes reassure her that she is.

There’s a knock on her door, startling her out of her trance. Figuring it must be important for someone to see her at this hour, she quickly settles the letter down on her desk. She makes her way to her door and opens it…just to see the very man who, per his words, is already hers.

“I figured you’d still be awake.”

She still feels the heat in her cheeks from his letter, and now standing face to face with him knowing exactly how he feels about her, and him knowing exactly how she feels about him, she can’t help but feel bashful.

“Did you need something, Captain?”

He answers with movement, holding out a cup of tea to her, one that she didn’t even realize he was holding this whole time, the steam filling the space between them with its soothing and familiar aroma. Very familiar.

Chamomile.

Chamomile.

Mikasa’s eyes widen slightly in surprise as she gazes at the cup, realizing what it really is.

“Is that–”

“For you? Yes,” he answers simply, though his expression is softer than she’s ever seen it.

He extends the cup to her and she holds it with both hands, gazing down at it with the same confusion but surprise. It hits her then, the actual answer she was seeking, seeing now with certainty that this is indeed from the tea bags she made for him. And by realizing this, it’s clear he did see her gift…and her letter.

“Chamomile is good for sleep.”

A soft hitch of her breath escapes her. Verbatim are those words from her confession, a question written in a form of a sentence in which he alas answered. His voice is quiet but the words are loud, chiming in with this expression on his face, softer than she’s ever seen it, that tells her she got what she wanted.

But did she really? Is he really accepting her love for him? He’s beating around the bush here, his words so far all suggestive but not definite. But then, as though he just read her mind – something he’s frustratingly quite good at – he leans in, distracting her from all her unsureness.

“Yours,” he whispers tenderly, leaving no room for doubt, followed by a fleeting touch of his lips on her cheek, chaste and light as a feather, yet heavy on the promise that he was, is, and will always be, hers.

Just like he wrote.

“Now go to bed, brat, before I write you up for breaking curfew,” he says sternly as he pulls away, but there’s no bite to his tone, the familiarity of their banter turn love language making it all the more comfortable between them. .

Mikasa can’t help but respond in turn, a small smile on her face, “Not for sneaking into your office?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies with a short scoff, and like a warm blanket draped around her, he then gives a soft smile of his own, a rarity in itself, “Good night, Mikasa.”

With that, he leaves her be, and she retreats back into her room, sitting down on bed with the cup still warm in her hands. It’s when she takes a small sip that at last unveils the big smile on her face that she can no longer mask. And with every giddy sip she takes, each flowing through her system like a rush, she realizes that perhaps chamomile isn’t so good for sleep after all.

[jarofstyles]

Oh Baby, Baby! 4

It’s been a very long time but 🤭🤭🤭 here we go! Oh baby, part 4!

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!

Warnings: pregnancy

WC: 3.6k

—-

Harry was absolutely insane.

Y/N was positive about that. She sat on the couch as she watched him bob about the kitchen, installing baby locks. Baby locks- and her bump was still little. Despite all of this, though, she found it stupidly attractive. His desire to be a dad, his dedication to the baby that was just a tiny little seed inside of her stomach, his already overprotective soul, it made her fall just a bit deeper.

The shift had been evident and obvious and neither of them had any awkwardness about it. It was no longer two best friends making a child- they were in it together. Harry was just as dedicated to Y/N as he was to their child. She had found that out relatively quickly. When they’d gone to the bar to meet up with their friends, Y/N and Harry both sipping on plain sodas as they caught up with people. He had gone to the bar to get her a bowl of cherries that she had been obviously craving since he had caught her looking at longingly in Sarah’s drink. He’d been approached by a very pretty girl that had her stomach twisting, seeing her place her hand on his arm which she had wanted to rip off violently. He had taken the slip of paper from her and nodded before heading back with the cherries he had paid a stupid amount for.

She had been quiet with his return, his heavy arm sloping around her shoulder like nothing had happened. He sunk back into his comfortable space, kissing the side of her head as she took one of the cherries to pop in her mouth. It felt bit hard to swallow when she did, the burning in her gut outweighing the sweetness of the cherry. Y/N hadn’t been able to hold back, turning to him after staying quiet for a bit.

“Are y’gonna go for it?” She asked,, trying to feign nonchalance. She had done a very poor job of it, though. Y/N was never one with believable poker faces. Harry could read her like a book.

“Who? Girl at the bar?” He asked with a quirked brow, shaking his head at her irritation when she nodded. Her slight pout and her irritated brows made him want to coo at her. She was so cute. “Why the hell would I do that when you’re right next to me? You’re the mother of my child. I dont need to look elsewhere. I adore you.” He turned her face, pinching her chin and pressing his lips to hers firmly for a chaste but loaded kiss. “Threw it in the trash on the way back. Told her I was an expecting father. Don’t need to go searching anywhere else.”

And that was that.

Now, doting dad and committed… boyfriend? Partner? Whatever their label was, he was exceedingly good at it. Phenomenal, really. He kept the fridge stocked with jars of the sweetened cherries and switched his cologne to a less spicy one because as much as she liked the other one, her pregnancy hormones absolutely could not stand it. He made sure to set up tea for her and get coffee if out because mournfully she was also sick whenever she smelled it. She was just hormonal and unhappy that someone else had hit on him.

Y/N had been grumpy lately. She didn’t mean to be, but with bouts of morning sickness and her breasts feeling a bit tender, a weird craving for fried chicken tenders with peanut butter, she felt irritated all the time. There wasn’t much anyone could do for that. That didn’t mean Harry deserved to be on the receiving end of her grumpiness, though. She felt a bit bad as she watched him walk back over to test out the locks, not seeming to be bothered by it visibly but… she knew he valued her a lot and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was being mean in purpose.

Tears grew in her eyes, the sting making her even more upset. She kept fucking crying and she had been lucky to keep it from him this far, but it had only been a matter of time. A quiet sniffle was accompanied by rubbing over her eyes, not wanting tears to fall before she spoke. “I’m sorry, H.” She said, trying her best to keep her voice steady. Harry had quickly turned to look at her, concern etching over his features as he returned back to her side. “I shouldn’t have tried to start a fight. It’s not fair and you’re s-so lovely to me and I get scared you’re going to find someone who isn’t pregnant and whiny and eats weird things-“ she hiccuped, glassy eyes looking at his beautiful hands. It was hard to face him.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Y/N was full of emotion lately but Harry had thought he made it clear that he wasn’t ever going to leave. “Sweet girl… hey.” He grabbed her chin with his thumb, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not upset. I didn’t even know you had seen that. I’d never do that. I don’t want to. What I want is right here.” He moved to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. Her stuttered breathing had him squatting in front of her, getting them eye level. This needed to be cleared up.

As much as he had been thorough in telling her that she was his, he hadn’t been proper in his declaration of need for her. “Look at me.” His instruction got her to look right at his eyes, a harsh swallow taken as she held her breath. “There is no one else. Maybe it’s my fault for not being clear, but I’m yours. Your partner in all of this, if you’ll have me.” Gentle strokes of the damp skin and the shaky breath exhaled as she took another second to absorb his words. “We made a sweet little baby inside of you, we’ve bonded but… m’not just here for the baby. I’m here for you. You’re what I want, and I’m sorry that I haven’t outright said it yet. I thought you knew how much I utterly adore you.” He got on his knees between her legs, still able to look at her face on as he brought her face towards him.

Delicately, he kissed over her skin. Feather light, soft and breezy, he kissed her forehead, her nose, her eyelids as she closed them to feel his affection. He was so serious about her that it grounded her a bit. Finally letting her body unclench, leaning her face into the pecks when he finished off with her lips. “I adore you too.” She mumbled back, holding on to his wrists. “I’m sorry. I- I kind of knew but we never spoke about it and when I saw you talking to her my mind panicked a little bit.” It was silly of her. Harry was right in saying he had made it clear she was his- her still slightly over sensitive cunt was proof of that alone- but the lack of clarification had gotten to her.

“Don’t need an apology from you. I know that if I saw a man talking to you, flirting… handing you his number? I’d be very annoyed. Not at you, but.. the idea. It pisses me off and probably wasn’t fun for you to watch.” He sighed, pulling back slightly to stare at her. “M’here for you and little baby inside of you. You both are my world. And I don’t want you questioning it again. Alright?” He squeezed her cheeks slightly with his hands, making her laugh through the last of her emotional tears.

“Got it.” She sniffed, welcoming the kiss he paired it with. “I- I still don’t think we need baby locks yet.”

“S’called being proactive, my darling.” He chuckled against her mouth. “Keep up.”

—————

Harry’s hand was threaded through hers as they left the appointment. Y/N was happy that as she was in her second trimester, but even more so, she was amused at her boyfriends antics.

He was diligent and doting on her, more than he had ever been before. The friend she had before had erupted from his cocoon, showing her a new side to him that she hadn’t anticipated. Protective, present, and so damn affectionate. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her. It wasn’t just sexually, either. The man always had his hand on her, lips pressing against some part of her body, fingers tangled with hers. It was very new, but very welcomed.

“So… soon they’ll be able to hear.” Harry mumbled as they walked towards the car. “So we’re going to have to play them some good music. Got to be careful what my child consumes because I will not have a kid with bad music taste.” He gave Y/N a look. “No radio for right now. I’ve got playlists, going to get the family plan for Spotify or something and then y’can use that.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, approaching his black SUV with a shake of the head. “Harry, I adore you, but please.” She gave him a look. “They’re going to be perfect. With a father like you, there’s no damn way our child isn’t going to know the ups and downs of rock n’ roll history.” Harry was quick to open up the passenger side door, holding on to her hand as he helped her get into the seat. “Besides, it’s mainly my heartbeat they’ll hear. They won’t start hearing a lot of external noise until the end of this trimester.” He had been on the baby websites.

“I know that. But we have to be safe, don’t we?” He was deadly serious, too. “We don’t know the exact time they’ll be able to hear it so…” he shrugged, making sure she was buckled before closing the door. Harry was already an active parent and Y/N couldn't fault him for that.

When he was in his seat and buckled, his hand moved the car into gear before finding its new favorite spot on her thigh. It still gave her little butterflies to feel him touch her so intimately, so casually. These adjustments had made her exceptionally happier in the last few weeks.

“What did you want for lunch, petal?” He asked softly, the music playing lowly after Harry adjusted the playlist. “Is it still chicken tenders? Or are you wanting something else?” The cravings had varied lately. Harry was never sure what exactly to get her so he waited for explicit instructions so they didn’t waste time or money.

“Can I have Taco Bell?” She asked, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “Want one of the freeze things and.. maybe we get the taco box? With all the tacos so we can have it for later too?” Her stomach was growling, in desperate need of some food. “Want some of the chips and cheese too. Maybe 2. Your child is making me stupidly hungry.” The grumble made him laugh. It was very much his fault, and he wouldn’t change it.

“Course we can. Tomorrow I’m going to the grocery so I can get us some good food at home. Strawberries and greens for your smoothies.” While Harry was never one to dictate how she ate, he did encourage her to eat healthy when possible. He would cook for them since they’d basically moved in together, but Y/N was feeling too lazy to cook most of the time.

“Hm. Yeah, I think that’s good. I’d like some crisps and stuff to make dip… maybe some rice. I’ve been craving baby carrots with ranch a few times but we didn’t have it.” It hadn’t been so much that she would ask him to go out and get it. She was still able to go but Harry did like to take care of her so far. It had been a bit of an adjustment but she was learning to love it. “Y’know, you’re spoiling me. Going to make a monster out of me. I’m liking this ‘having Harry go to the shops’ thing.” Her grin was wide as she looked over to him in time to see him fondly roll his eyes.

“Well… I’m going to take care of you. You’re my girl, you’re carrying my baby. I’ve always liked spoiling you. Just didn’t do it as much because it would have been a bit weird.” He admitted. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds fluffy and white. The air was warm enough for them to have the windows down a bit as they drove, and Harry really felt like his heart was full. Just getting to experience this and spoil Y/N the way he had always had a weird itch to do? It was fulfilling a spot in his chest that had been vacant for a while.

“That’s good then. I like being spoiled so I think this could work out.”

—-

“Harry!”

The call of his name from across the house had him jolting, running from the kitchen where he had been preparing their meal, up the steps and down the hall to their bedroom. You never yelled for him like that. His brain had been on auto pilot, running over as fast as he could in his socks- dangerous- to find Y/N standing with wide eyes as their folded laundry sat in sorted piles on the bed.

Her hands were over her bump, visible in the cornflower blue dress that hung over her form. Her eyes were wide as she turned to look at him, mouth open as he approached. His hands immediately grabbed her face, looking her over. “What? What’s wrong?” He pressed. “Baby- y’cant yell for me like that and not tell me. Is there something wrong?”

“No! I don’t- I don’t think so?” She squeaked. “I felt them move! Like… s’not a kick or anything but it felt real this time! Not just the flutters. It’s like… squirming?” Her eyes were wide as she looked down at her belly, the shock of truly feeling their baby moving around inside of her taking her for a ride. “I didn’t mean to worry you but I just- I panicked and was excited. I’m sorry.” The woman hadn’t meant to worry him too much.

Harry felt himself melt in both relief and happiness at the clarification. His heart rate could finally slow down. Perching himself on the end of the bed, he was mindful of the laundry piles as he pulled her body in between his legs. “I’m not angry, Angel. Not in the slightest. You just scared me. Thought something was wrong. M’much happier with this result.” Hands moved from her hips to over her forming bump, stroking over it tenderly.

She had told him about flutters recently, how they’d made her excited- but this was a very new and exciting development. “I didn’t want you to miss out.” She peeped, looking down at him. “In case you could feel something. I know you love them a lot already and I didn’t want to keep the first couple times.”

Harry was in love. He knew that before, but her little moment now had solidified it even more. His lips pressed over the clothed belly, tilting his head up to look at her with his eyes full of fondness. “Thank you. I researched it and I don’t think I’ll be able to feel much until the end of this trimester, but I love that you wanted to tell me.” The moment had been more than enough for him. “What did it feel like to you, though? Tell me.” Holding her body to him and his chin against the bump, he listened intently.

“It was like… I don’t know exactly. They were squirming and bumped into the side of the wall? It’s hard to explain. It freaked me out at first.” A breathy left slightly moved his face as it rested on the belly. “Because I sometimes forget that there’s a real human in there growing. It’s incredible, isn’t it?” She placed her hands over his. “Like a little flower. Planted the seed and now the sprout is growing a flower.”

“Hm. Little sprout? I like that.” He turned to whisper into her belly. “Do you like that, Sprout? S’a cute little name your Mumma and I can call you. We’re going to find out if you’re a girl or boy later on but… it’s better than calling you ‘baby’, hm?” Harry more than liked that. “Can choose to be whatever you’d like, but think you’re going to be stuck with the Sprout nickname forever. S’already stuck. You’re going to be married with children and I’ll be calling you it.” He joked, rubbing her hips as he looked back up at Y/N.

She was so beautiful. Sometimes it struck him in the chest, like right now, how lucky he was to have been given her by chance. She had suggested this and they hadn’t anticipated this sort of thing happening, but it was the best thing to ever happen to him. She had that pregnancy glow, the beam of her smile. No more morning sickness and instead getting to enjoy her bump for a while. The leg cramps hurt a bit, but she and Harry worked on it with the massagers and vitamins. She was truly thriving, and he was elated.

“You’re so lucky, Sprout. Me and you. We get your Mumma, and she’s the most perfect woman. You will be grateful when you come out to meet her.” He felt her gentle hands stroke through his messy hair as he continued to speak. “Hope you’re nice to her the rest of the time you’re sprouting. She’s giving you some good genetics to work with here. M’gonna have the prettiest babies with her.”

“Babies?” Y/N rose a brow. “Who said we are having more than this one?” Her heart beat a bit faster as it did sink in. He meant it. He wanted the long haul. It was so exciting, so comforting to know. Harry reminded her often how how much he adored her, how he was proud to be hers, but that confirmation made it feel way more real.

“Well.. s’your body, so you. But I’d like to be the one who gives you more babies if you decide that I can.” He blinked up at her. “I’m more than okay with one, if that’s all you’d like. But… I would definitely like some more if that’s something you’d offer.” Obviously he would never pressure her into anything she didn’t want, but it was something he had been envisioning.

A full house. A dog or two. A set dining room table and sports practices, plays, dance recitals. Siblings spats and groans when Harry would kiss her. Picnics and beach days where he would remind the children to walk, do not run to the water. Applying sunscreen to grumbling kids and holding Y/N’s hand through all of their firsts. Perhaps it was a big dream to ask to follow through, but it was something he desperately wanted.

“You’d really want that? We haven’t even had this one yet.” She asked softly, surprise evident in her tone. “You like them that much?”

“Love them. And you.” He looked up at her again, pulling his lips from her stomach, letting the words sit in the silence for a second. “Love you a lot, Y/N. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Want to build a family with you, a home. Not just a house or a flat. Want to do it all with you. You’ve been my best friend for a long time but I love you a lot more than that. You’re the person I’ve always wanted to be with but didn’t particularly know it. Didn’t allow myself to think of it. Now that I have a chance, I’m taking it. Keeping it.” And her.

Eventually he would propose, but he didn’t want her to think it was just from the baby fever. He loved her wholly before this but it had grown and changed shape and color. She felt like gold. Bright, shiny, priceless. Better than anything else he had ever seen and she had him wrapped around her finger.

“I’d like that.” She caressed the tops of his cheeks with her knuckles. “You’re my best friend too… and- and I think that there’s no one better suited for the job as the father of my children than you. I’ve loved you for a long time and it’s changed the meaning, like you said but.. I like that idea.” Building a home and family with him. Something so perfect to them. It wouldn’t always be, but they’d love it despite the imperfections and hiccups. She knew his heart, and it was pure.

“But to be honest? To me, you’ve always felt like home.”

[audhd-author]

I definitely have an idea! Lab colleagues obviously in love with each finally confessing their love and making love for the first time

Hey Anon!

Thanks so much for your request, I hope you like it. It was my first time writing for Brucey so I really hope I did him justice.

- Audhd Author

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Lab Partner

You can't deny, you've had an attraction to Dr Bruce Banner since the day you first met. What you didn't expect was for him to feel the same way.

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2,767 words

NSFW (18+)

Soft sex, marking kink, nail scratching, hickeys, fluffy smut, mentions of disordered eating, creampies, nipple play

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Pen in your hand, you look blankly down at the hastily jotted notes from the meeting this morning with Tony, Fury, Agent Coulson, and Bruce. No matter how hard you try, you just can't find the motivation to keep your head focused. Your mind couldn’t be further from work at the moment as you glance up at Bruce, who’s resting his chin in his hand as he scrolls through blueprints on the latest tech Tony’s introduced to the lab. Letting out a groan, he removes his glasses, rubbing his face in his hands as he stares mindlessly at the screen, your breathing deepening at the sight. Quickly averting your gaze back to the notes, you sigh, randomly colouring in the corner of the paper as you let your thoughts take you anywhere else.

Unfortunately, that anywhere else happened to be on a random beach at sunset with none other than Bruce. His hand reaches up to cup your face as he leans closer to you, lightly brushing his lips against yours. His other hand wraps around your lower back, pulling you closer to him as your hand entangles itself in the back of his hair. Gently pulling your lower lip between his teeth, he extracts a breathless moan from you. “Y/N.” He breathes, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air.

“Y/N.” He repeats, the sunset quickly returning to the lab as you struggle to figure out where reality is. Looking up, a crimson heat spreads across your cheeks as you see Bruce, standing in front of your desk. “Ah, shit sorry, what?” You apologise, struggling to look at him without your heart beating through your chest. “Are you ok? I said your name like 3 times before you even noticed.” Your eyes widen as you try to avoid his gaze, the blush appearing more prominently over your features. “Yeah, sorry. I was lost in thought. What’s up?” You reply as he grins.

“Don’t blame you, these new designs of Tony’s are a lot. Are you hungry? I was thinking of heading out to get something to eat if you wanted to come- my shout.” He asks, as you gratefully nod, realising you actually can’t remember when you last ate. “Yeah, sounds good.” You respond, grabbing your phone from the desk as you stand up for the first time in hours. The moment your weight transfers onto your legs, you have to grasp at the desk for stability as your body sways dangerously, dizziness crowding your head as a hot flush runs through your veins. Bruce’s hand reaches for the small of your back, keeping you stable as his features convey his concern. “Jesus christ, Y/N. When was the last time you ate?” He asks, worry evident in his eyes as he looks at you. You shake your head as you take a deep breath before standing up straighter. “I honestly don’t remember. I can’t eat too early in the morning and I forgot to eat last night.”

“Fucking hell.” He curses under his breath, his hand not leaving your back as he guides you through the lab. The mere touch of his fingers has your body melting as you walk beside him. “As a scientist, you of all people should know the importance of regular nutrition.” He says as the two of you walk down to the underground carpark. "I do. I just don't realise how long it's been since I've eaten sometimes." You admit, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck as Bruce unlocks his 2012 Acura. Opening the door for you, his hand doesn't leave your back until the last second before he shuts the door, walking around to the driver's side of the car.

"Do you feel like anything or did we just want to drive until we see something?" He asks, turning the key in the ignition as he does. "I honestly don't mind." You hurriedly say, if there was one thing you hated it was making decisions like where to go and what to eat. Simple questions like that when another person is involved, absolutely not. You'd much rather have them choose than choose the outcome yourself. "Alright, well, what do you feel like?"

Damn it, Banner- you. "I'm happy with whatever." You can feel the red hot flush of embarrassment appear over your cheeks as you say this. "Y/N." Bruce says, letting off a singular chuckle. "Bruce." You respond, a slight grin pulling at your lips as you look over at him. "Do we need to add decisions to the list of things you avoid?" He asks and you can't help the chuckle escaping you as he responds. "Only when it involves another person. I'm happy to go along with whatever."

Exhaling deeply, Banner grins as he shakes his head in defeat. "You are a piece of work, Y/N." You find yourself laughing at his words. "Oh always, but you love me for it anyways." You respond, only realising what you said after you said it, a familiar hot blush spreading on your face. "Oh definitely." He grins before dropping his tone out of earshot from you. "How can I not?"

Turning into a small parking lot, a lonesome diner stands at the end. "I come here a lot on my breaks. It's small but the food is delicious." Bruce says, pulling into a parking space near the door. Putting the car in park, he pulls the handbrake as he turns to you. "Right so are you able to get out of the car or do you need help with that?" He laughs, a grin on his face as you send him a feigned look of offence before laughing. "I think I can figure it out." You chuckle, opening the door and stepping out, ready for the light-headed feeling overcoming your head as you shut the door behind you.

Walking inside the quaint little diner, Bruce follows you to a corner booth, sitting opposite you as he passes you the menu from the centrepiece. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the Chicken Bacon burger combo, your stomach rumbling at the sight as your hunger finally begins to catch up to you. A young waiter comes to the table, a friendly smile on his face as he does. "Hey Bruce, what can I get for you today?" Bruce gives him a small smile before responding. "Just the usual thanks Alex." He says before looking over at you. "And a Chicken Bacon Burger combo with coke, thanks." You say, hoping the order isn't too expensive. "Sweet, two chicken bacon burger combos. It'll be ready shortly." Alex says before disappearing into the kitchen.

A silent sigh of relief escapes you upon hearing Bruce got the same as he chuckles at the coincidence. "So what inspired you to get into the sciences?" He asks, trying to spark up conversation. A reminiscent smile pulls at your lips as you respond. "My father. He was an esteemed scientist, like you, he got exposed to gamma radiation, except he didn't survive it. He had pre-existing health issues and the direct contact with the radiation killed him. I was always with him in the lab working with him and the one time I wasn't, he died. I just always sort of blamed myself for it and decided to keep his legacy going." Bruce's face falls further with each sentence, unsure as to how to respond.

"Y/N… I'm so sorry." He says, gently reaching over to squeeze your hand comfortingly. Shaking your head, you give a reassuring smile. "Don't be, he died doing what he loved. Besides, if that accident didn't happen, I probably wouldn't be working as an Avenger, which honestly? The thought of not, is terrifying." Bruce laughs after hearing your response. "Understandable, you're around something so often that it's terrible to imagine not having them- it in your life." He says, a blush appearing over both of your cheeks as the both of you catch his slip-up. "Couldn't have said it better myself." You respond as a chuckle escapes the both of you.

_______

The rest of the day absolutely flew by. Both you and Bruce were in high-spirits for the rest of the day, engaging in playful banter as you worked on the logistics of Tony's new blueprints. Turning the shower off, you pull on a loose V neck T-shirt and a comfy pair of jeans before walking into the lounge, slumping onto the couch in the living room of your quarters in the Avengers facility. Flicking the TV on, you aimlessly scroll through the shared Netflix account, finally deciding on The Hitman's Bodyguard. A knock on the door stops you from relaxing, a soft groan escaping you as you slowly stand up from the couch. Unlocking the door, Bruce stands outside, a sheepish smile on his face. "I hope you don't mind but I brought you some dinner, just to make sure you have something to eat. I can't have my favourite lab partner losing out on nutrition."

A grin pulls at your face, as you pull the door open more, letting Bruce walk in. "You didn't have to." He chuckles at your response. "I know, I wanted to." He replies, as you walk into the kitchen, grabbing a set of utensils each as he pulls out two ramen bowls. "Make yourself at home, did you want a drink or anything?" You call from the other room, as Bruce takes a seat on the couch. "No, I'm ok thanks." He replies as you walk back into the room, taking a seat next to him, folding your knees up as you hand him a fork.

"Thank you. I hadn't even thought about dinner, to be honest I was planning on just watching movies until I pass out from exhaustion like usual." You sheepishly admit as Bruce sends you a look of disapproval. "And a messed up sleep schedule, it's a wonder you even manage to function." He says as you chuckle. "Hey, I can guarantee Tony isn't much better." You grin, pointlessly defending yourself.

"Tony has Pepper. I care about you, I want to make sure that you're ok." Bruce states before taking a bite of his ramen. A familiar heat spreads over your cheeks as you hear his words, choosing to have a mouthful of food before responding. "Is this from a lab partner point of view?" You boldly ask as Bruce pauses, avoiding your gaze. "Decidedly not." He starts, taking a moment before exhaling a shaky breath. "I genuinely care about you, but lately, it seems to be more than just being your lab partner. I like you, in a more than friends way. I understand if you don't and I hope it doesn't ruin our relationship but I can't lie to-." You lean forward, brushing your lips tenderly against his, stopping his panicked rant. Startled, he pauses before leaning towards you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek before breaking the kiss.

A smile pulls at both of your faces as you breathe for air. "I like you too, Bruce." You confirm before he leans forward, pressing his lips more confidently against yours. Tender and sweet, it was everything you imagined it to be. Your heart beats intensely in your chest as his hand comes up to lightly trail over your hip, fingers dancing over your clothed skin. A breathy moan escapes you as he gently nibbles at your lower lip, a groan falling off his lips as he hears you. Ramen abandoned on the coffee table, he pushes you gently backwards, hovering over your body. His hands get more explorational. His fingers lightly dance over the curves of your side, his mouth trailing from your earlobe, down to your collarbone, peppering gentle kisses as he does. Your breathing intensifies, a hot desire burning in your core as he gently bites down on the skin on your shoulder, running his tongue over the teeth indents. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." He groans, licking up the sensitive skin of your neck as you shiver in pleasure.

"Shall we take this to the bedroom?" He suggests as you nod. Letting you get up, Bruce takes your hand as you lead him into the next room. Turning back to him, you wrap your arms around his neck as his hands grab your hips, pulling your body tight to his as your lips reconnect. Bruce guides you backwards as you feel the edge of the bed behind your legs. He gently pushes you back, crawling over you as you hit the bed. His lips find solace on the skin of your neck, sucking it between his teeth as hues of purple and red blossom behind. His fingers grasp at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head as a groan emits from his throat upon seeing your lack of bra.

His mouth attaches to your nipple, gently sucking it as your back arches towards him. The flattened tip of his tongue gently flicks over the now hardened bud, extracting soft moans from your lips. His knee moves between your legs, pressing against your core. Your heat throbs with desire as he turns his attention to your other nipple, continuing with the same ministrations. His name escapes you in a breathless moan, pleasure throbbing in your core. Hearing his name on your lips extracts a low growl from him as his knee begins grinding over your heat. "Absolutely gorgeous." He murmurs against your skin, the vibrations travelling straight to your core as you feel arousal begin to drip down your thighs.

"Bruce, please I need you." You breathe as he pauses, looking up your body before lunging forward to press his lips firmly against yours. Your hands reach up to undo the white button down he's wearing as he runs his tongue over your lower lip, asking for access which you gladly give him. Shrugging the shirt off his shoulders, his hand reaches down to undo your jeans. Your tongues fight for dominance, working together to extract breathy moans from the both of you. Pulling both your jeans and panties down in one precise movement, a soft groan escapes him upon seeing your body fully exposed to him. Quickly undoing his pants, he positions himself in between your legs as his arms slide under your shoulders. Peppering kisses over your skin, his tip presses at your soaking entrance as your body shivers in pleasure.

Bliss fills your veins as he pushes inside you, a groan falling off his lips as your walls stretch around him. His thrusts are not fast nor slow, his hips setting a perfect pace that sends stars floating through your vision. You can't help the curses falling off your lips in a breathless moan, each buck of his hips makes him rub precisely over your sweet spot, ecstasy flooding your body. Your arms wrap around his back, nails digging into his shoulder as a soft whimper escapes you. "So fucking perfect." He groans against your skin, sucking it between his teeth as his tongue runs over the indents.

You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten with each movement of his hips, Bruce reading your body like his favourite book. Every ministration of his mouth, hands, and hips pushes you closer to the edge, pure bliss filling your veins as your body begins to shake beneath him. His hand reaches down to where your two bodies meet, his fingers expertly dancing over your clit as you fall over the edge. His name escapes you in a pleasured gasp, your back arching closer to him as ecstasy crashes over your body. Stars flood your vision as breathless moans fall off your lips, a hot flush burning through your veins. Bruce shudders above you, his hips stalling before you feel hot ropes of his secretion coating your walls, a low groan escaping him as the two of you gasp for air. He continues to thrust into you, slowly drawing out your highs as your body begins to regain its senses.

Gently brushing his lips over yours, he pulls his softening member from you, his hand coming up to brush strands of fallen hair away from your eyes. "You are better than I ever could've imagined." He murmurs, as the kiss breaks, his forehead resting against yours before you pull him down next to you. His arms instinctively wrap around you as you place another tender kiss to his lips, basking in the warmth of his bare skin against yours.

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A/N:

Definitely not sitting in my car at uni posting this 🤭

Will add Brucey to my masterlist on my break because I don't have time right now 🤣😅

[fraeuleintaka]

Official Investigations Artbook

This is the 78th post in the Ace Attorney Investigations Collection Countdown: 3 days left until release!

Today's topic: the official Investigations Artbook!

[Spoilers for Investigations 2 in some of the images]

Back when both Investigations games were first released there was not only a Complete Guide for the first game (sadly not for the second one) but also an official Artbook for both! By now it's also out of print and was, again, only released in Japan so it's difficult to get but not quite as difficult as some of the other books I showed in previous countdown posts. Since I also call the Artbook my own now (my newest treasure) and it's full of amazing art from the Investigations games I want to talk about it as well!

Firstly, I love it's unique cover art! Justified to show off both of the games' main casts and it's so pretty! Being an Artbook of course the book is on the larger side (compared to, say, the Guide) and the paper is thick and glossy to really make the art shine. It's not a hardcover, unlike other artbooks I own, but the spine is robust enough that it doesn't hurt that much. Still very nice quality.

The first few pages contain a collection of all kinds of promotional artwork for the Investigations games in large and wonderful detail. I especially love these illustrations with Miles, Gumshoe and Kay in various situations. Gumshoe holding Miles' umbrella. Them thinking hard together on the solution of a case. Kay and Gumshoe taking pictures together. Gumshoe draping his coat over Miles when he falls asleep in his chair. So cute!

Then we get two double pages of extensive relationship diagrams of all characters appearing in both games and how they relate to each other. Unlike the Complete Guide the Artbook doesn't hold back on spoilers so all of these connections are what you know them to be at the end of the games and not only what they might appear like at first. Really appreciate that, it's much more detailed and useful this way. (Though it does make total sense that the Guide doesn't spoil everything immediately like this.)

The main section of the Artbook is filled with character artworks (obviously), that includes their full body art, a collection of some of their chibi sprites and a large collection of their confrontation animations. These are drawn especially detailed and with various frames depending on the animation! The high resolution confrontation sprites of the collection (and the mobile version) are directly based on these. And they look absolutely gorgeous! So worth it for these alone!

The main characters are all put together at the beginning while the rest of the characters are sorted with the cases they first appear in. They also don't get as many pages to them as the main characters do which is to be expected.

Every case is introduced with a little summary at the beginning with all the major characters appearing in the case and all of the relevant pieces of evidence. We get a show of all the significant images appearing during each case and even the zoomed in deduction screens. Lovely! Before that though we get a complete timeline on the events that are important to the games' story, when they take place and what important things happened there. So nice and really useful for mapping everything out (like when writing fanfics)!

The next rather large section focuses on concept art for the characters. Especially for the main characters there's a huge variety of sketches, some of them from very early development! It's by far not all of them, as the Complete Guide had several that aren't shown in the Artbook, but it's definitely a lot and pretty much for every little character, even the victims. I especially love seeing what changed in different development stages and what stayed the same. There are even some additional treats in the sketches like an illustration of Shi-Long fist fighting de Killer that looks insanely badass!

Towards the end we have a bunch of shorter sections with one being a detailed show of all the background artwork of the two games including some fun commentaries from Gumshoe! On Miles' office, for example, he rants little about Portsman being a bad prosecutor and states that it was a lot of work to clean up the entire mess (because of course he's the one who cleaned it). There are also a bunch of interviews with the staff and a nice little Q&A section about some character detail (like what kind of ice cream de Killer holds). Definitely my favourite part of the interview was them delving a little into Shi-Long's design and how hard the character designer Iwamoto fought to make him shirtless! He even came up with a reason after being denied (that Shi-Long has 7 scars on his chest that are formed like the constellation Orion and he wants to show them off) but Yamazaki didn't buy it 😄 I wouldn't have minded a shirtless Shi-Long at all but I'm also very happy with his final design 😉 The spirit of the idea is definitely conveyed in it!

And speaking of favourites, the last and probably my favourite bonus in the Artbook that I want to mention is a couple of pages full of these short character interactions! They essentially play out a scene of the characters talking about something with these wonderfully drawn animations. I can't go through them all but I want to highlight my favourite one: Shi-Long and Miles meet in a restaurant. Unusually for him, Shi-Long is on his own without his subordinates and Miles asks him about it. Shi-Long quotes Lang Zi at him and says that he does do stuff on his own occasionally. Miles then notes the amount of food on his table (enough for more than 20 people!) and after trying to deflect a little by mocking Miles' "deduction" to which Miles doubles down Shi-Long admits that he tends to order way too much when alone and asks Miles to join him. Miles doesn't refuse but makes a little comment about Shi-Long apparently having some difficulty with being alone. Awww, so cute! The other interactions are of a similar kind, ranging from funny to heartwarming and wholesome. I can totally see Shi-Long having such issues when he's used to being accompanied by so many people (especially considering what happens inbetween I1 and I2) and I adore the idea of Miles (and the others) keeping him company. Reasons why this is my favourite cast in AA and I love their every interaction! Getting more of those is not something I necessarily would've expected from an Artbook but that's just makes it even more amazing!

[avatarkv]

Cupid’s got me on a chokehold.

✎ Synopsis ! You and Neteyam are obviously in-love with each other, so what exactly was holding you back?

Content & warning ¡ Aged up Neteyam! x Human!Reader. (aged him up because idk how ages work between na’vi and humans, no smut! just kissy-kissy) tooth-rotting fluff, finally. gotta keep my sweet child alive this time (wc; 4471)

You were always confined within the comfort of your lab and it amused Neteyam to no end. You were surrounded by stunning scenery that anybody would kill to get an eyeful of, yet here you are, laser-focused to whatever you were working on in front of multiple screens. 

You were tasked to step into the shoes of Grace Augustine and you took the responsibility gratefully, not wanting her work to be put in vain. You admired her deeply, to the point that you’d watch her every log before you sleep— remarkable woman, she is. It was now time for you to honor her legacy with ambition of your own— a worthy successor taking the reigns and continuing in her stead, pushing her work forward with every ounce of energy you had.

Today was no different; you were cooped up in your little space, desk cluttered with papers and coffee stains evident from the multiple drinks you had. A knock interrupts your focus, taking your eyes off your journal. 

"You've got some visitors," Norm abruptly announced, rolling your chair towards the door before you had a chance to reply. You gripped tightly onto the armrests of your chair as you felt yourself suddenly tipping forward, away from your workplace– curse Avatar strength. You could only shoot him a glare as you pushed your glasses upright, standing up from your seat.

“How’s my girl?” A smile immediately grows on your lips as Neteyam greets you. He had a voice like warm, rich honey; when he talked, it was difficult to hear anything else. He reserved such fondness in his tone just for you, it was hard not to swoon. You extend your hand from your forehead, greeting him their way. 

“I’m pretty sure your girl has not showered since the last time we visited,” Lo’ak joked from behind, earning a snicker from Spider. 

“Ha-ha,” You removed your lab coat and stretched, clothes tightening as you relieve your bones from sitting in a hunched position for who knows how long– you have got to work on your posture. You groaned in satisfaction as you heard your joints crack. “What brings everyone here?” 

The Sullys' had ventured out, with the exception of Tuk who was eagerly watching out for everyone’s return, with Spider. They were tinkering with the different machines that littered the lab, teasing each other, and chatting with the other avatar drivers they were familiar with. 

“Setting aside my disgustingly in-love brother and his constant requests,” Kiri gave Neteyam a knowing glance which he returned with him rolling his eyes, “We’re actually here to remind you that you need to move your legs and walk. You’re more busy these days, we’re kind of worried.” 

You were closer with Kiri, though you didn’t admit it openly, you shared many of the same interests. Much to the boys’ dismay, you went out with her more, exploring the forest and experimenting all sorts of things. While you busied her with your lifestyle, she was just as ecstatic with sharing hers. You learned how to weave, discovered the many healing ways of Na’vi as well as making new ones. You and Kiri were two peas in a pod, both intelligent and cunning, with a shared passion for learning.

“Just.. working on something new,” You replied sheepishly and it made Neteyam’s eyebrow quirk up in curiosity; it was unlike you to not tell him about your works and he could tell from your tone that it was something huge. “It’s going to be worth it, I promise!”

Neteyam couldn’t help but revel in your passionate display, he swears you glow when you talk of your interest, stars twinkling in your eyes. He absolutely hated anything related to the sky-people and their affairs, but he’d listen to you talk endlessly about it, even if the words that would often reach his ears were foreign and had no clue what it meant. 

He won’t admit it, but he would sometimes ask his father for English lessons; slyly asking him about words that he didn’t understand and Jake would eagerly answer nonetheless. Oh eywa, he was a huge simp. (He learned that word from Lo’ak, who knows where this man’s vocabulary is coming from.) 

“You okay, ‘Teyam?” You tilted your head and looked up at him through your lashes and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks when he realized he had been staring again– how easy you could make this mighty warrior helplessly smitten with just a glance was embarrassing. He had sharply averted his gaze, visibly gulping. 

Unbeknownst to him, you weren’t oblivious to his watchful eyes. He may have thought he could take in your every move without you noticing, but you knew all too well when his gaze lingered. No matter where you roamed or how hard you tried not to look back in his direction, his eyes had a way of finding yours and planting itself there. You both were absolutely enamored with each other and it was painfully obvious. 

Lo’ak was the one to break the silence, pushing you from the back, “Okay, nerd, get your mask because we’re going.” 

The walk to the village was peaceful, aside from Lo’ak and his loud mouth, you were actually grateful that they forced you out the lab. Sunshine cascaded in through all the leaves and greenery, casting its pleasant warmth throughout your path. You could feel its rays radiating on your skin as it moved across the landscape– it was a beautiful day. 

Neteyam kept a protective hold on your waist as you ventured through the forest. You felt his grip tightening whenever there were overgrown branches or gnarled twigs along the way– he was keen on holding down leaves for you to pass through and picking on every pretty flower to secretly tuck into your hair (He saved some for Tuk and his mother). 

When you arrived, Tuk was the first to rush and greet you, running towards you at full speed and nearly tackling you to the ground. Despite her being the youngest, she was almost your height. She gave you a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around your waist in an embrace. “__!” 

“Please be careful, Tuk,” Neteyam scolds from behind, holding you securely. 

You returned the hug, wrapping your arms around her “How’s my favorite Sully?” You asked, leaning in to kiss her forehead as if she wasn’t literally the same size as you. Tuk giggled in reply, while the other’s expression dropped in disbelief. 

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Kiri mutters from the side.

"I got the whole day planned out!" Tuk jumps around ecstatically, her enthusiasm contagious. "We braid each other's hair, then we make necklaces! We can go for a swim in the pond that's just further into the forest, and then!" She takes a big pause for breath before continuing with her plans. "After we get back from our swim, we can play some more–”

“Hold up, Tuk, What are we supposed to do while you do your girly things?” The youngest blew raspberries, as if to tell him that no boys were included in every activity. Being the child Lo’ak is, stuck his tongue out as well.  

“Well we do need extra hands on the spot right now,” Jake interjects, emerging from behind the bushes, breathing heavily like he had run back here. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, “There’s some movement down north and we’re heading to check it out. We need spotters while we scout the area.”

“Hello Mr. Sully,” You greeted him and the hard expression that had been on his face momentarily softened. He gave a single curt nod in response, but you could tell he was somewhat surprised to see you there.

“Is it serious?” Neteyam immediately asks, face contorting to complete worry. It might’ve been a bad time to bring you out here and he couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

“No, no.” Jake was quick to ease his worries, shaking his head. “Hopefully not, but it’s best if we move out now.”

Neteyam quickly turns to you and your expression mirrored his concerning one. He rested his hand on your shoulders, “Wait for me here, alright?” You nodded, taking hold of his hand and gently massaging it in comforting circles. This small gesture seemed to ease the tension within him and he squeezed your hand affectionately before running off to their hut and grabbing his bow. 

Jake watched as the scene unfolded before him, a feeling of familiarity washing over him. He couldn't help but grin as he said his goodbyes, catching himself in his own reminiscing– young love was just something else and he found it brewing between you and his son, just like how his and Neytiri’s grew. 

Your gaze followed their retreating figures as they were swallowed up by the towering trees and cascading vines. You remain still for a few moments, worried for whatever awaits their travel, not until Tuk softly grabs onto your wrist and pulls you to follow her alongside Kiri. With a deep breath, you trailed behind, ready to spend the day with them. 

The sun shone brightly as the day carried on. It was hard not to enjoy yourself, not when Tuk was radiating such energy. Even after all the hiking and climbing, her excitement remained in every activity. It was infectious, you loved this bundle of joy with all your heart. It only seemed to calm when you laid on the rocks, drying yourselves after swimming. She swears she only needs to nap, a recharge, before continuing with her plans– but as soon as her soft snores hit your ears, you knew she was done for the day. 

You chuckled before shutting your eyes yourself. The sun is warm and pleasant, the breeze refreshing. It feels like an eternity since you have been able to just let go of stress and simply enjoy the present. You take in all of nature's serenity, letting it fill every inch of you with solace. You breathe in deeply as your lungs fill with crisp air and then exhale slowly, releasing any tension that has gathered up within you.

After a while, the sound of Kiri’s voice jolts you awake. “When are you telling my brother?”

Unable to process her words yet, you turn your head to her in complete confusion, “What?”

“Oh you know, you and your obvious feelings for him.” She replied casually, almost smug even. “You both are so disgustingly in love with each other, what’s with all the hold up?” 

“Kiri, I’m human,” You told her, like it was all the reason she needs to hear, but her gaze is relentless– beckoning you to continue. “Not until my avatar is finished, at least. I wanna be able to hold him, to feel him without constraints. Do you know how much rash I’m getting from this stupid mask? It’s so itchy and the straps are never tight enough or loose, it’s just–” You were rambling at this point, frustrations boiling over. 

You groaned, “But that’s besides the point. I wanna be able to look at him like I’m capable of taking hold of his heart myself, not like this.” 

She chuckled, her eyes turning away from you and back up to the sky. “Believe me, you already have it.” 

Neteyam marched back to the familiar path towards their home, shoulders heavy in disappointment. It was a false alarm and they were greeted with nothing but stray animals littered around the forest. Unfortunately for him, the day was already ending and there was no doubt that everyone would be tired already when they returned. When he arrived, Tuk was sleeping soundly, nestled in Kiri’s embrace. Her chest heaved ever steadily with each gentle breath as you brushed back the braids that covered her face, careful not to wake her. 

He quickly strides over to you, gripping your shoulders in his hands and at first, you are taken aback by the sudden hold on your body. Then, as soon as you recognize who it is, a wave of relief washes over you; Neteyam was back and you were more than glad that he had returned unharmed, “‘Teyam! How did it go?” 

Before he could reply, Kiri gave him a teasing look before speaking. “I’m gonna go and tuck Tuk in, she’s all yours brother.” 

After a beat of silence, Neteyam was the first to speak. “Bet Tuk had tired you out,” You laughed heartily as you both stared as Kiri made her way back to their hut with Tuk, “But I need you for one more journey, you up for it?” 

He had a way of looking at you, one that couldn’t be denied. His eyes pleaded– begged for you to follow, and he could see the desire in your own eyes when you stared back. What’s a few scolding from Norm when you could spend time with Neteyam? “Lead the way, mighty warrior.”

You pestered him the whole journey, asked him where he was taking you every second. Neteyam would only laugh in reply, shaking his head to tell you that you just have to see for yourself. Not long after, the tree of voices shone from a distance, and you felt your lips parted in awe. 

You’ve only heard of it from Grace in her videos, so to finally witness it yourself felt absolutely unreal. You were completely staggered by its splendor, you couldn’t help but ghost your fingers over the glowing vine-like roots– it was beyond anything you had ever imagined. Pandora was quite the treasure, the lush greenery and the remarkable landscapes of this world amazed you at every turn; it always felt like a dream when you let yourself wander around. 

As you walked further aimlessly, like the sight itself had lulled you to come closer, Neteyam remained unmoved. His gaze was fixated on you, intently following each step you took, as the lights shone around your body like a gentle embrace. He was surrounded by such beauty, and it seemed like the only masterpiece here was you.

When you finally turned and noticed his absence, you smiled and beckoned him to follow– Oh Eywa, save him now, he knew he was as good as dead. His heart raced in his chest and he felt like his lungs had suddenly stopped working; the plan he so carefully thought of had evaporated and his mouth had gone dry. You stood there so prettily and it made him feel small. 

He slowly made his way towards you, holding onto your forearm. Only now did you notice his stiff shoulders, how cold his skin was in contrast to the warm atmosphere. You worriedly gazed upon him as you tried to decipher his expression, figuring where the underlying tension came from. You stepped back slightly, getting a good look on him. 

“Why did you bring me here?”

Your voice was quiet, but it was enough to draw Neteyam’s attention. He couldn't help but take notice of every detail in your face; the lilac light bathing you in its hue as he memorized the way you looked. His gaze dropped to the floor briefly before he met your stare again, unable to look away for even a second. “I am of age already,” his voice started out small, “Mother has been asking me if I have chosen.” 

You knew of their tradition, knew how life goes for everyone, but to hear it from him had caused a sting from the inside. Neteyam would need a mate– a strong Tsahik that would accompany him once he takes on the role of being the clan leader and it hurts to think that you could never fit that role.  “Have you?” Your eyes widens, peering up at him. It was difficult to ignore the distinct tone of disappointment in your words, and the way it hung in the air.

“No, not yet.” He was quick to answer, wanting to ease the worried look on your face, “Not until you choose me too.”

“Oh, Neteyam,” His words came as a shock and you could hardly process them. The sound that escaped your lips could only be described as dejected, like you had instantly denied him without a second thought and you were now considering how best to reject him gently. His heart sank, trying his best not to be discouraged– not yet. 

He chose you. He’s choosing you and he’s waiting. His words reverberated like an echo inside your mind and it caused you to complete dysfunction. This moment of indecision felt both exhilarating and paralyzing all at once; it was enough to make your heart pound faster in your chest as apprehension took hold of the moment. You clearly liked him too, the great mother knows how much your soul yearns for him, but this is something you shouldn’t decide on the course of your emotions. You knew very well how impossible it was. 

“I don’t think you should fall in love with someone like me,” Your words were heavy, unwilling, as they escaped your lips. You wanted nothing more than to run to him, to tell him that you’ve chosen him the very moment you laid your eyes on his– but you chose to bite your tongue. 

“Someone like you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unable to comprehend.

You shook your head and raked your fingers through your hair, feeling the frustration coursing through you. “Someone that’s not like you.” You rephrase, hoping that he gets the message. “You are to be olo’eyktan and I’m not even Na’vi– the people won’t approve of us.” 

You didn’t miss how his eyes had turned crestfallen; you were sure you could even hear his own heart breaking. His grip loosened as he walked past you, striding through the hanging vines, “This place is for prayers to be heard.” 

You trailed behind him desperately, “Neteyam, listen to me–” 

He quickly cuts you off, turning sharply towards you. “And I’ve been told what to do my entire life, __. What I must do, how I should act.” Neteyam’s shoulders are slumped defeatedly as he looks at you, grabbing both your hands, caging it with his, and warming it with a soft kiss. “You’re the only thing I’m asking for and I’m begging to be answered.” 

His voice is pleading and you hate to be the one to let him down. With another heavy sigh, you reluctantly drew your hands away from his, “Are you willing to wait?”

You plagued his mind. You had not visited, nor had he either. The days seemed to drag on, and still there was no word from you. 

It cost him his peace of mind; Neteyam has been slacking on his duties and his own family was not blind to the fact that their usual patient eldest had become irritable, a frown gracing his face everyday as he continued with training. His mind had been troubling him and his stomach had been twisting and turning into an ever-tightening knot. He wanted to come see you, heck, he’d even take his words back if it meant everything would stay the same.

This day was no different. The training went south and all his shots were off their mark, stance completely off. His frustrations mounted when the whisperings took place and realized they’ve been talking about him, the humiliation was unbearable– he just couldn’t think straight.

“Trouble in paradise, bro?” Lo’ak had followed after his brother, who had just gotten a scolding from Jake. He had dismissed him harshly, feeling just as frustrated from how his eldest was acting these days. “How did the plan go anyway?” 

“Horrible!” He immediately blurted out, followed by a loud groan. “It was stupid to catch her off guard, it was stupid to tell her by surprise.” He knew in that moment that he had erred greatly; there was no way to undo the shock and upset you must have felt that very moment. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, regret coursing through his veins with each passing second.

Lo’ak threw his head back in surprise. He had never seen his usually composed brother like this before, the last few days consisted of nothing but pure panic and it was hard not to enjoy seeing his brother all frantic. “What were you meant to do? Say, hey __ I’m about to confess to you at the tree of voices, compose yourself alright?”

He groans for what feels like the millionth time today, “What are you doing here, Lo’ak?” 

He crossed his arms with a smug expression, “‘bout to give you words of advice because unlike you, I’m a hit with the ladies.” Neteyam let out an exasperated sigh and swatted his brother’s shoulders in an attempt to silence him.

“Get lost, you’re not helping with anything.” His temper was reaching its boiling point as he desperately tried to convince Lo’ak to leave him alone, wanting nothing more than to be left to his own self-pity. 

Lo'ak finally concedes, turning to make his way back on the path he came from. "She likes you too, maybe even more than you do," he says before stopping. "Believe me, the wait is worth it!" He raises his voice and then continues walking away until he is lost among the trees.

He knew something that he didn't and it makes him more and more agitated. 

He ventured further into the forest, sitting down on a nearby stump and carefully tending to his arrows. He sharpened each tip with precision, eyebrows furrowed heavily in concentration. Not long after, his ears perked up at the sound of footsteps softly padding closer. As the steps grew louder, he knew someone was coming towards him. He tensed up, wanting nothing more than to send Lo’ak away again. 

“What do you want this time, Lo’ak?” His tone was harsh and he didn’t even spare him a glance. Neteyam was met with a chuckle that sounded nothing like his brother’s and immediately, his heart started to race.

“Penny for your thoughts, mighty warrior?” You cringed on the inside, feeling absolutely lame.

His head snaps up, eyes widening in shock. "___?" he blurts out in disbelief. 

“Surprise?” 

His mind has got to be fucking with him. Neteyam immediately stands, taking a few hesitant steps towards you– or at least, what he thought was you. You were Na’vi– You no longer bore your usual appearance of green cargo pants which were always slightly too large in size and that stained shirt that had countless coffee marks splattered across it, now changed with nothing but a beaded necklace and a loincloth like theirs. 

He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander— every curve and creases of your body, the stripes that adorned your blue skin, the plain between your breasts. You weren’t you but there was no doubt that it was your sweet voice that he heard; the same doe eyes that peered above him, the same gaze that held so much wonder. 

You visibly gulped at his reaction as his gaze continued to travel over your avatar, the silence making you a bit uneasy. You had worked tirelessly on your creation; multiple cups of coffee had kept you up all night, and your human body had most likely shed pounds due to the lack of nutrition. After he had confessed, you knew you had to finish immediately– wanting nothing more than to feel him around you without him being so protective of your fragile body. You tilted your head to meet his intense stare, nudging him softly, “Neteyam, say something.”

This was what you’ve been working on for months, he has realized, you had successfully created your own avatar. 

“__?” He called your name again, mouth agape and unsure. 

“Wanted to surprise you,” Your voice trailed off, fingers softly grazing his rigid shoulders. You bit your lip anxiously, nervously awaiting his response. He stared at you intensely, and you couldn't help but feel like a tiny little speck under his gaze. “So.. what do you think?” You finally asked him after a few moments of silence had passed between the two of you.

“Think I need to..” He said, barely above a whisper as he gently tugged you close against him, unconsciously licking the bottom of his lips. “Think I need to confirm a hypothesis.” He finished, grabbing your hands to rest above his shoulders while his hands landed on the curve of your hips, rubbing circles on the skin with his thumb. Your breath caught in your throat, the tiny flutter of butterflies beginning to riot in your stomach. It was unlike him to be so bold— always hesitant to hold you in any way when you were in your human form. You looked so fragile, so little beside him. 

But now he could hold you close and he was trying so hard not to close the distance, doing his best to keep his composure despite the unbearable temptation to bridge the gap between you and him. You kept him waiting for weeks, his needs were dire. 

A laugh slipped from your lips and Neteyam’s ears perked up delight from the sweet sound, “Hypothesis?” You muttered incredulously. The word rolled so foreignly from his tongue, accent thick, and you didn’t believe he was capable of picking up some of the terms you used in the lab. You realized he had been listening despite his dislike towards your kind. “Where did you get that word, huh?” 

He chuckled in reply, so low you could feel it vibrate from the lowest pits of your stomach. “Come on, pretty girl, just need a sample from you,” Neteyam lifted your chin, leaning in closer— “If you let me,” 

You closed the gap yourself, sealing a kiss on his lips. It was soft against yours, almost like it matched the sweetness of his voice– everything about him was goddamn perfect. You felt a shiver down your spine as he kissed you back, hand snaking up to hold your nape tenderly. The world seemed to stand still around the two of you, suspended in that very moment. Eywa had answered and she makes no mistake. 

You could feel his lips curving into a knowing grin as he feels you pulling away, both of you breathless and giddy. You drew away from him, trying to steady the pace of your heartbeat, “Final verdict?” You joked, smile growing.

His response was immediate, eager, as he reached out for you again. Neteyam brushed back strands of your hair while drawing you impossibly closer– his gaze remained fixed on yours and you could feel how his heart pounded against your own,

 “Think I need more than just one kiss from you.”

☆ mauve here! this has got to be one of my favorite works i have ever written here because god damn, i am giggling like a mad man over my own fic. love neteyam w all my heart it's crazy, this man deserves a rest !!!!!

tags: @aonungsmate @divineei (HI !!!!)

© avatarkv, do not repost.

[bowieandqueen11]

Jesse Pinkman Being Jealous Would Include...

Request: omg so glad you’re writing for breaking bad rn cause i literally just started watching it and i’m obsessed 😭 could you do jealous jesse pinkman please? (hcs or a fic whatever you want)

Oh my gosh yay I'm really glad you started watching it!! If you haven't already you 100% have to watch Better Call Saul afterwards it's one of my favourite shows of all time! :)

Warning: spoilers for later seasons of the show! Mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking/alcohol, mentions of burn injuries, light swearing, mentions of trauma!

(I do not own Breaking Bad or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @tilldeathdousart.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Baby boy, baby boy. meow meow cat man. its so hard writing you as jealous because i feel if anyone started flirting with your s/o you would just break down crying and honestly same we love an in touch with his emotions king loml honestly

Jesse has always been the jealous type. Hot headed. Easily wound up by bullies ten times his size and a thousand times more ferocious and cutthroat than he had ever tried to be. Almost as easily as he had slipped into that easy routine of being ass over heels, devastatingly in love with you. The kind where every night, he tosses and turns in his mildew spelling bed, plagued by thoughts of doing nothing all day but sloppily kissing your lips between blunts. The kind where he has to stare up at the sky after he's been caught staring, until his retinas burn the sunlight into the back of his skull, yet the pain is nowhere near as cataclysmic as the hurricane your smile brings to his heart.

He had far too many years to temper it, to try and smother his love, and yet over time he seemed to get worse and worse and worse at stopping it from choking at his throat. He wasn't so bad during high school: sure, you found him a little odd, the way he would brag to his friends in the corridor about how he'd never 'studied a day in my life, man!', and yet in Chemistry he would be chewing the edge of his pen and scribbling furiously down on his paper during the end of term quiz.

He was terrible at tempering it, and you were terrible at seeing it.

Little did you know, that all the words he scratched down with his shaking hand were either complete guesses, or absolute gibberish. He had no idea what the paper was even supposed to be on, but you were sitting beside him, and so he wanted to look as smart in front of you as he possibly could. Bless his heart, to everyone else he was so obvious: Mr White would just peer over his shoulder and shake his head, his mouth in a lined frown as he watched Jesse peer like a meerkat over the side of the desk to stare at you from behind his slipping down beanie.

Some of his friends, his 'gang' as he liked to call them, were snickering from a couple of benches behind at the way he was trying to look clever by placing his fist under his chin, but his elbow kept slipping off the edge thanks to his baggy hoody. Even Justin Treller, the guy sitting to your right, and the kid Jesse was getting more and more annoyed with every time he leant over to whisper something in your ear, was evidently enjoying the way the tips of Jesse's ears were beginning to burn with embarrassment.

Eventually, when you began giggling at the things Justin was leering further and further towards you to murmur, Jesse began to snap. That's when he began doing stupid shit to make you laugh, like plugging the tube in and flicking his hand through the Bunsen Burner flame to try and impress you with his pain tolerance. When Jesse inevitably ended up being sent to the nurse's office for such a dumbass idea, he was wincing so harshly at the pain that he nearly tore through his bottom lip, leaving a nice scar. You volunteered to bring him down, spending half of your lunch period taking care of him.

He sat caved in on himself, trying to make himself as small a target as possible on one of the fold out chairs. He was obviously embarrassed, by the way his voice kept cracking each time you tightened some of the new dressing over his fingers. Mainly he was talking to try and distract you from the way his hands were shaking, so desperate to reach out and brush over your cheek that he nearly sobs with the effort. He also doesn't want you to notice how pathetic he looks: how he so subconsciously prepares himself for the mental barrage from his mother, or the physical threats from the people he deals with out in the streets, that he looks like a meek kitten sitting there with his palms down on his knobbly kneecaps.

He had known then, of course. He had known, as you pressed your lips chastely against the back of his sore knuckles, and giggled at the way his cheeks immediately flushed like a blooming snapdragon, that you would always be the love of his life. The only thing, behind the emotional neglect, the gossip, the drugs, the constant damn pressure, that he truly had chosen to care about. Which is why, after he bought his parents house and asked if you'd want to live in it, free of rent, he was shocked that you said yes.

Good things don't usually happen to this boy. And seeing how you were the best of all, he had to swallow his heart and just smile at your words, terrified he was going to ruin you.

I mean, living there at first had been easy enough. You had been round (or smuggled in by Jesse) so many times since that day in the nurse's office, that it felt like a second home to you. His parents, while they had still been speaking to Jesse, had absolutely adored you. They would always be teasing their son during family dinners about how he had been saving up doing his *wink wink* 'paper rounds' late at night, just so he could save up for the big wedding he was planning. Blushing ferociously, Jesse would duck his head down until his forehead banged against the tablecloth, begging his mom with that tired drawl to 'please... just stop'.

Somehow, somehow you just... never saw it. Perhaps you were laughing too much at the way Jesse's father was pretending to elbow his son to notice. Maybe, you were trying to cover your own eyes in mortification. I'm not sure, but I do know that you never seemed to notice the gut-wrenching look of pure hope Jesse would throw your way, once he had mustered the strength to peek his head up again.

While he shook his head and bit at the corner of his fingernail, while he poked and prodded at his escaping garden peas, while he took an awkward sip of his water and pretended to glance around the table. He was always looking your way, as if you had tied his heart to a string, his compass pointing him north, directing him back to his true home. His eyes would just linger on you like a listless man possessed from between the prongs of his fork, stabbing harshly at the plate in time with his thudding heart.

His heart sure was beating now. So ferociously, he thought it was about to splinter and explode out of his chest, implanting the chards everywhere until they were all that was left in memory of him. He knew you were getting sick of the constant parties. Of him being dazed 24/7. Of not knowing why he lashed out all the time. He knew it wasn't fair, but every time he closed his eyes he just saw Gale's pleading eyes beginning to burn itself into the safe memories he kept in the back of his head. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't breathe from all the sobbing. He couldn't even think in peace. So he just bit the cap off another beer bottle and fell down heavily on the edge of his brand new thousand dollar sofa, imprisoning himself in self-isolation despite being lost amidst a sea of people.

It was right at that moment you decided to try and brave down the stairs, having to hold onto the bannister for dear life as you jumped down each step, the bass vibrating through the walls until they shook. As you peered over mountains of baggie hoodies and tripped over lumps of passed out people on the floor in your effort to try and find Jesse, you accidentally bumped into the back of one of Skinny Pete's friends. You apologised as he turned around, which would have been fine if he hadn't taken one look at you and decided you were his main entertainment for the night. The smell of stale weed and lukewarm beer radiated off his sour breath as he leant down to rasp against the shell of your ear, sending a chill rolling down your back. You tried to compress your shoulders and squeeze past him, but the guy would not stop trying to grab onto your waist and pull you back, staring very blatantly down at your chest.

You knew Jesse had been shoved into the deep end of some shady business recently, but the way he had been acting over the last while had been frightening you. So despondent. So careless. To come home every day and find him almost completely blazed out of his mind on the floor, seemingly not recognising you as he failed to respond to your greeting. Not realising that as soon as you wandered into the kitchen to put the groceries away, those desperate, love strung eyes were following your heels. He nearly cried out for you, voice hoarse and heavy in the back of his throat.

If he had mustered the energy, he would have gotten onto his hands and knees and crawled like a baby on the floor to follow after you. The way you would beg him at 2 a.m. to turn down the music, and he would just grab at your hands and try to get you to join in his terrible on the spot jump-dancing. You never discerned how heartbroken he seemed to be when you jolted back from him as if shot; his bottom lip would quiver and he would sink to his knees when your bedroom door finally slammed shut. 

He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore. First it had been his parents. Then the drugs. Then Mr. White, Gus, Gale, Mike, Saul, the pressure just kept building up and up and up and he didn't know how to escape it. Too cowardly to run away, just as he had always been resigned into believing you could never love him back. Too submissive. Too easily used. And now, now there was barely anything left of him. Sometimes, sometimes that scared kid would try to crawl out of his throat when he was alone at night, but he would just choke on his tears in the darkness until he had drowned him again.

So what does he do? Gets off his face drunk, and throws another mind numbingly monotonous party until the walls start spinning and he doesn't even know who's coming through those doors anymore. Hell, he still half expects his mother to come busting through, chiding him for having drugs in the house. For having you in the house, with such company present. For being a coward.

Now he had just brought more trouble on himself. If the company he now decided to keep didn't get his hands off you in approximately ten seconds, you were going to knock him on his ass in front of all his little buddies.

Thankfully, Jesse seemed to have a sixth sense as to when you were in trouble, and he had been steadily keeping his beady eyes on you ever since you reached the top step. Before you could shove the guy back, Jesse's already doing it for you. As soon as he’s by your side you can tell he’s wound up: not by the way he comes striding over, shouting over the beat and lowering his head as if he’s about to headbutt the guy. Not from the way his hand flies in his face, or the swears, the long string of increasingly ridiculous ‘bitch’ related insults he calls him, but from the way he looks so, so tired. He looks on the verge of tears, his eyes bloodshot as he brushes gently past you to start shoving the guy out the front door, yelling above the music to shepherd everyone else out as well.

'Jesse... seriously, you need to tell me what's going on, right now.'

When the door finally slams shut, you know him well enough that the best thing to do is just let his head cool down for a minute. When he was younger, that used to involve ringing you up whenever his parents had threatened to kick him out again; you would come clambering over the picket fencing lining his immaculately manicured side-yard to see him sitting on the edge of his windowsill, smoke rings blowing out the side of his mouth as he waited in the dark for you to arrive. His hand would shake as he hefted you up from the piping by his bedroom wall, awkwardly landing you down half on his feet as he would just stay beside you all night. He would speak from time to time, asking you about what you wanted to do once you managed to escape from this dump ass town. But mainly, he just leaned his head back and listened to your voice, gazing up at the faraway stars as if it were the only place he could possibly be truly free.

But now, he was far worse off than you ever could have imagined. He hunched over, as if he had a spiked collar weighted around his neck as he lumbered past you, crawling down onto the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest as he sat back against his brand new surround sound speaker, ducking his head into the gap and clawing at the back of his neck until you worried he was about to draw blood.

It was horrifying, hearing how he gasped between retching sobs as you sunk down on the floor next to him.

You tentatively reached out to place a hand on his back, kicking an empty pizza box out of the way with your foot so you could sit with the side of your thigh touching his. As soon as you made contact, he leapt at you like a rabid dog, clawing and clenching and biting his teeth into his shirt as he fell onto your chest.

‘Please. Please don’t leave me’, he gasped out between heaving cries, looking up at you with eyes so dejected, it were as if someone had stifled out the blinding stars once in them with dark clouds. Bits of saliva stuck between his teeth as he screwed his eyes shut once again and began bawling even harder, falling like a broken bird as you held the back of his head and guided it down to rest just above your breast bone.

‘I love you’, he starts sobbing, fists bunching up the material at the back of your shirt. It was you. It always has been. And if you walked out that door with the rest of them, he had nothing left. He would willingly roll over, and let himself just rot away. 

You sure as hell saw it now.

Eventually, after you rock him back and forth against the floorboards for a while and just cradle him in a way he’s never experienced during his years on earth, he becomes more placid against you. It helps that at some point, you had absentmindedly begun to trace the silvery wisp of an outline that had been left on his bottom lip all those years ago, your pointer finger glancing back and forth as it quivered. He was almost entirely curled against you now, pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t stop, but his breath froze when he heard you whisper ‘I love you too’ against the top of his hair.

He’ll feel really sheepish the next day when he finally wakes up, peering round the corner with his hand behind his head when he spots you trying to straighten out the crick in your neck after a night spent on the floor. He’ll come apologizing with his go to breakfast: a childhood favourite of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup; they were the kind his mom would make if she were in a good mood at the weekends. When he would sit at the table the morning after you slept over, watching stupid cartoons his brother had put on the small television, grinning to himself as some dripped down his chin. It had been the happiest he had been in his life.

Although he still has that boyish, soulful smile on his face as he sits criss-cross down beside you, you can tell that he’s still plagued by how wet his eyes are: how heavily he’s blinking.

‘I really do love you, you know that right?’, you whisper, taking the plate from him.

‘Yeah, I do.’

Suddenly your fork goes crashing to the floor, forgotten about as you lean forward to kiss him, nearly surprising the heck out of him as his teeth clash against yours. He’s quick to reach up and tenderly, oh god, so gently cradle the side of your cheeks, but that’s soon abandoned as he readily allows you to guide him until his back is against the floorboards. You clamber over until you’re almost straddling him, beginning to smile yourself as you feel him grin against your top lip, the soft peals of his giggles breaking out against the surface of your tongue as you dip down against him.

And suddenly, his life seemed like it was worth fighting for again. He was going to get out of this. He was going to escape. He was going to win. Not for himself, but for you.

[call-sign-jinx]

Spencer Reid X Reader - It was clearly just a simple mistake

summary: you and spencer have known each other almost all your lives. now, you both work for the fbi. when he's working on a particularly hard case, you spill coffee on some of the evidence and other papers. he immediately blows up at you unknowingly but as soon as he turns around and sees you, he says it was a simple mistake.

warnings: age gap, best friend's brother, making out, mutual pining (spencer started to have feelings for reader when she was 19)

spencer reid x fem!reader

Spencer Reid was my best friend's brother. I've had feelings for him since I was 11 and her was 14. I told my best friend and she fully agreed that we would be a good couple. But that was just our 11 year old minds dying to be sisters in some way.

But there was one thing in the way, well two. The age gap, and the kids at our school. Me and my best friend were the 'popular' types of girls. And Spencer was the 'nerd' that steered away from parties and big groups of people. Which meant the only times I ever saw him was when I was over at Amanda's house. Which was actually quite often. But he was always stuck in his room doing homework and reading books.

Now, I'm 22 and Spencer is 25. I'd say we both aged very well. We both work at the BAU but I'm just an assistant who gets everyone coffee and their lunch and answers the emails they can't be bothered reading while Spencer is a profiler who works on cases like kidnapping and serial killers. I see him a lot more often and we occasionally talk when we both happen to be in the breakroom.

At the moment, the whole BAU was working on a case that was particularly hard to solve. I heard Morgan chatting with Elle and this guy seemed like they knew exactly what they were doing. Left no clues, varied in the way they killed, thoroughly cleaned the crime scene, etc.

I could tell that it was infuriating for everyone, especially Spencer. He was sat at his desk, brows furrowed with a mix of anger and confusion, forehead resting on hi right hand, eyes dead focused on the paper he's holding. I quickly made him a new cup of coffee to hopefully cheer him up.

As I take it over to him, I trip and accidentally spill the coffee on the case files. Shit. Shit shit shit. Shit. For fuck sake. He's going to be so fucking pissed. I didn't mean to! It's not my fault someone else left their fucking bin in the way. I was too focused on not spilling the coffee anywhere that much that I spilt it. Ironic.

"For fuck's sake!" Spencer quickly stood up, some of the coffee spilling on him. He tried to move the papers quickly while muttering how could I have be so clumsy and stupid.

He then turned around and looked shocked to see that it was me who spilt the coffee on the case files. His whole angry demeanor changed into a calm and collected one. He had a small smile on his face as he brushed himself off.

"I apologize Y/N for how I spoke. It was clearly just a simple mistake." He sat back down at his desk and the few people that saw what happened had very confused looks on their faces, including me.

I just walked back to my little office to deal with any emails that the others sent over to me to look at. Baffled by the interaction me and Spencer just had.

--------------------------------------------

It was 1am. Everyone had left the office, except for me. I was too busy answering all the emails Morgan sent me, he clearly doesn't answer any of his emails.

That was until I heard a loud crash in the main area where everyone's desks were which caused me to practically jump out of my skin. My first thought was an intruder. But how could it be? This is a literal FBI building so how could anyone possibly break in? This clearly wasn't what I was thinking at the time because I went to grab the gun that Gideon had let me have - with a license obviously.

I quietly opened the door and pointed my gun and phone torch to scan the area in front of my office. I couldn't see anything. I then stepped out the door and scanned the area around me, making sure to check through other doors on my way to the main area.

Sweat began to run down my forehead as I thought the worst, this could be the night I die. My worry quickly went away when I saw that it was only Spencer, still at his desk.

"Spencer? What are you still doing here?" I make my way over to him and pull out a chair and drag it over so that I can sit next to him.

"Still trying to figure out the case, you?" I sigh as I leaned back in my chair.

"Answering emails that Morgan can't quite be bothered to even look at. One of them was about his gym membership! What does he expect me to do with that?" Spencer laughs as share my frustration.

"I think they treat you too much like a normal civilian. Which you are far from because you helped me get one step closer to closing the case." Spencer had a proud look on his face as he told me. My eyes widened in shock. How could I have possibly helped in the slightest?

"How? The only thing I've done is bring you all coffee and lunch, and answered your fucking emails." I add the last part with exasperation, it was not part of my job description.

"That's what helped me. You accidentally spilt the coffee you brought me on a piece of evidence and it revealed a big clue, it was the first 2 digits of the zip code of where the killer lives." How can someone be so dumb? Maybe they want to be caught?

"Really? How did the coffee help with that?" I look at the evidence and the first two digits are there but not fully visible. Me and Spencer look at each other - as this would actually really help the case - with pure joy in our eyes.

"Y/N..." His demeanor suddenly changed. He looked down and I followed his eyeline, my hand was on his thigh. How the fuck did my hand get there?

"Shit, sorry. Didn't know my hand was there..." I immediately pull my hand away and look to the ground.

"I-It's alright Y/N... stuff like that happens." I look up to Spencer and he looks at me with a certain glint in his eyes, one that I haven't seen before and one that I can't quite place.

"Spencer?... I-" I was quickly interrupted when Spencer placed his lips on mine. I almost immediately began kissing him back. I placed my hands on his shoulders and pulled him closer to me. He placed his hand on my upper thigh and my grip on his shoulders increased.

When we both pulled away, we couldn't help but smile. I giggled as Spencer just had a boyish grin on his face.

"I love you too Y/N. I have for quite a while now actually."

[macaron-n-cheese]

There is evidence that Thomas Jefferson may have been queer

Over the weekend I went to a history conference as one does. I was looking at the program and one of the lectures caught my eye. I was like "wait is that lecture what I think it is because if it is that would be awesome" so I went. It WAS awesome. The lecture was by an archivist who is doing a project on Jefferson's writings. Her background qualifies her to analyze 18th-century letters.

So basically she was reading books because that's what librarians do and the quotation “No body knows how much I wish to be with you” was very obviously right there. She realized that no one has done research on this before and decided to be the one to do it. The lecturer is still in progress if analyzing Jefferson’s papers and library.

To be clear, this lecture states that there is not enough evidence to definitively say Jefferson was queer, but just evidence that seems to be queer. The evidence is clearly homosocial, but anything beyond that can only be inferred.

my notes (my apologies if they are confusing at any point)

hahhahehheheh Jefferson: “No body knows how much I wish to be with you” Jefferson and Page and the Intimacy of Encryption

Same talk given to LGBTQ+ group

Coded letters to John Page

Page lives at Roseburg! Jefferson went there a lot

Scared people would find his letters so be encrypted

But he liked it like it was a game

Send real info but also bestie stuff

Impossible to determine Jefferson as queer but this is just fun

How do you define letters as queer or no?

Gender switch, Greek letters, codes

Coding citizenship, gender, sexuality

Homosocial bonds develop when yapping about exchange of women

Jefferson dirty enslaver grrrr

Sally Hemmings :(

Jefferson thought libraries, newspaper, education were essential to American nationality

Letters technology of collective fantasy

Lost history of cryptology

Jefferson father of American cryptology

Homosociality and stuff

Gay? 🤨 I mean he read ancient gay stuff

Trafficking women part of this (like using wives/daughters to connect families) :(

Connect families

Cedric mother of queer theory

Tools for examining must be subtle and definitive

Variable and political

Emerging subject categories in Jefferson’s writings

William Bendamen shows that Jefferson would be aware of queerness from what is in his library

Gay porn in 18th century WHAT

he owns gay porn caught in 4k

Lots of this is encoded, destroyed, difference in language & culture

Buggery laws

THE LETTERS to Page. 20 January 1763

Friends from youth to Page’s death in 1808

Letter from Shadwell. Jefferson is around 20.

“Why can you and I not be married, too?”

The commas, references, tenses, Latin is hard to attribute

Friendship or queer is unknown

Reference to laws of human nature. Early scientific musings of relationships

Elusiveness of understanding may be intentional.

Life together supported by letter 6 months later

Rebecca Burwell. Belinda

Plans to propose to her and writes to Page from Williamsburg “Devilsburg”

Refers to Belinda as “he”

Rejected by her

If it worked he and Page related by marriage between Burwells

Written like business transaction. (trafficking of women between men)

Many homosocial letters talk about trafficking of women

Jefferson thought his letter was interception and is super paranoid

Ask Page if he found this

Jefferson freaking out and asks him to being better code. I’m going to send you this.

Develops wheel cipher

3 months later Jefferson finds out Rebecca married to something else

Page marries. Jefferson moves to Monticello, marries Martha

Last letter

I can die with sweet resignation after reading your letter

Letters from Page lost in Shadwell fire

Page and Jefferson letters are ones between young men and are representative of such

Jefferson uncomfortable with women. Kinda misogyny but he’s so confusing so it’s hard to classify

Categorizing Jefferson but it’s all connected

This is technique to secure bonds among wealthy planter elite. College friends! This is before Revolution and stuff

There is so much to cover

Jefferson weird and paper expensive. He knows papers are to be shared and he decided NUH UH.

Jefferson morals vs action

Notes on Virginia. RACIST

Black writers at bottom in notes and in library

Boooo he’s a loser

Kicks off institutionalization in America

Jefferson isn’t the only one to code

Anne Lister codes. Puts lesbian letters in crypt.

This info puts my post from a year ago about Martha Jefferson’s epitaph into context, actually! The Greek reference and gender swapping is just Thomas’s thing with people closest to him. I wonder how many others got this treatment...Jefferson and gender is really something else, like bro can't interact with women yet swaps their gender in writing. What's going on in his silly autistic (probably) brain? Referencing mythology is also pretty cool like what a nerd using ancient Greek analogies.

I always found his coding interesting but just haven’t researched it. This new research is special to me because @asica-black and I used to discuss Jefferson’s coding and think “hey do you think these were coded and he worried that people would accuse him of buggery?” and answer is most likely yes!

So yeah it seems like Jefferson had a boyfriend.