#dr nodding in genuine interest

[frostwork]

Trailblazer giving one of their funny little answers to a simple question

Dr Ratio: I want to put you in a jar and study you.

[benevolentbones]

Saw you're taking Reid requests👀 I could use some Spencer x Reader who is new at the BAU and is super clumsy and they just fall head over heels over each other and he gets protective over her and it's all super cutesy.

thank you sm for the request! i hope you enjoy! really tempted to do a part 2 to this !! requests still open<3 i’m working through them

clumsy | spencer reid x reader

part 2

warnings: mentions of injury, general clumsiness, cursing, gn!reader

word count: 1.3k ish

summary: you’re new to the bau and are just super clumsy.

you were damn good at your job. you were a great profiler. you were great on the field. and you were quick to complete your paperwork.

the only issue you had was, you were incredibly clumsy. and not in the cute ‘oops i dropped my pen’ kind of way, more so in the ‘injure yourself on the field’ sort of way.

take your first ever case for instance, you and your previous team had busted into an unsub’s apartment, and after catching the guy, on your way back out you tripped over his collection of cds causing you to take his whole bookshelf down with you. you ended up breaking your arm and couldn’t use your gun for twelve weeks.

but now, you had just started a new job at the bau, and you were hoping to put the clumsiness behind you.

“agent l/n, this is agent morgan.” hotch went around the bullpen, introducing you to the team.

you had met in his office earlier, he had given you a rundown on what to expect and as there was no new case as of present, he was introducing you to the team and then going to set you up with some paperwork to fill in.

“great to meet you agent l/n, i hope to talk more with you soon.” derek shot you a flirtatious smile as hotch brought you over to the last member of the team.

dr. spencer reid. the tall man was currently leaning gingerly against one of the counters by the kitchenette section of the bullpen, a mug of coffee in one hand and a case file in the other. he wore a blue button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, along with a navy blue waistcoat and trousers.

“reid” hotch began, striding up to the younger male, with you at his heels.

“this is agent l/n, they just transferred here.”

spencer’s eyes shot up from the pages he was studying, now flickering over the person who stood next to hotch.

you, alike him, had the sleeves of your black shirt rolled up, notably more messy than his neatly folded cuffs. you had your hands stuffed into the pockets of your black suit trousers, with a smile plastered on your face.

“agent l/n, like y/n l/n?” reid’s interest was piqued.

you gave the taller man a small nod “yeah that’s me.” you chewed on your cheek, rocking lightly back n forth on your feet.

“i’ve read about your work, you’re- excellent on the field. i look forward to working with you.” he shot you a closed mouth smile which you returned.

“hey hotch, can you come look at this?” penelope called out from across the bullpen.

the older male, inhaled before turning on his feet, leaving you and spencer alone in the kitchenette.

“didn’t you accidentally shoot yourself during your last case?” spencer quizzed, sipping his coffee. he distinctly remembered reading an article about your last case before you took some time off, you had caught the unsub and while trying to put your gun back in the holster, it went off.

you felt your face flush.

“um- yeah, that may have happened. but don’t tell anyone. i’m a little clumsy” you giggled out, lifting the right side of your shirt to show a gunshot scar just above your hip.

spencer inhaled sharply, not expecting you to show off the scar.

“ouch.” he hissed, imagining how it must have felt. “i’ll try and keep you from hurting yourself on the field next time.” his eyes met yours and he gave you a genuine smile.

~

you had been working with the bau team for a few weeks, and have grown close to everyone, especially spencer.

you had developed quite strong feelings for the brunette over the time you spent at work and out with the team, he was always so considerate of you. always checking in to make sure you were doing okay, making sure you felt comfortable with everyone. and unbeknownst to you, he felt the same.

at first he thought your mention of being clumsy was a cute quirk, maybe you would accidentally injure yourself once in a blue moon and blame it on that. but as he grew to know, and care for you, he found out it was a daily occurrence.

on your fourth or fifth day in the office, spencer had brought a cup of coffee to you, placing it down on your desk which was conveniently across from his.

you thanked him with a warm smile, picking up the ceramic cup and taking a sip. he settled down into his seat, and began reading his case files until.

“fuck!” you yelled out, causing a few glances to be thrown your way.

spencer stood up abruptly, scanning you to see what had happened.

along with dropping the mug onto the floor, which shattered, you had managed to fully drench yourself in the hot coffee spencer had just made for you.

he quickly ran over, grabbing some paper towels to help clean up the mess. you shot him a sad look, followed by a string of apologies.

“i didn’t mean to- i just knocked it off of the desk and-“

“it’s okay, y/n.” he smiled sweetly up at you, patting your leg with the paper towel.

the next day, spencer had gifted you a resilient travel mug with a closing top.

~

the day came where you had an out of state case, the team all sat around the table for the briefing. spencer at your side in one of the desk chairs.

you had a habit of fidgeting during long meetings, you simply couldn’t help it, which spencer had noticed the first time you all had a lengthy briefing.

you were playing with your fingers, scratching at your nail beds until a warm hand gripped yours.

you glanced over to see spencer’s arm outstretched, his lightly callused hand now gripping yours gently. his focus didn’t stray from hotch, who was explaining the case, but you could notice a light pink hue to his cheeks.

you smiled to yourself, resting back into your chair. spencer interlocked his fingers with yours, gently pulling your desk chair closer to his, and for the rest of the briefing you both remained in each others grasp.

“wheels up in 10.” hotch announced, causing everyone to jolt out of their respective slumped positions.

the team made their way out to the jet, you and spencer in tow. you slung your to go back over your shoulder, spencer a few steps behind you.

everyone else had boarded at this point, and they were just waiting on the two youngest members of the team.

“y’know i’ve never been to colorado- i heard its really cold this time of year.” you hummed out, starting to climb the steps up to the jet.

spencer was listening to you intently, he liked when you rambled about things it made his heart swoon when you talked about how excited you were.

“hey just- be careful okay?” he mumbled, watching your careless steps.

“yeah yeah i’ll be fine spence.”

you adjusted the strap on your bag, looking over your shoulder to make another comment about the trip. bad idea.

as you went to place your foot onto the next step, you completely missed it, causing you to topple backwards.

spencer, who was behind you, was mentally preparing for this the whole time. he immediately stretched his arms out, gripping onto your falling form. he wrapped one arm around your waist, using his other hand to grab onto the railing to balance you both.

you locked eyes with him, faces practically inches apart.

“t-thanks, that would’ve been close.” you could feel your face burning.

a smug smile graced reid’s features, his grip on your waist not faltering.

“falling for me already, l/n?” he chuckled, eyeing your features. you grew more embarrassed, the tips of your ears burning.

he just wanted to lean in and kiss you, and he would have but you were interrupted.

“reid, l/n- we are taking off now come on.” hotch yelled out from inside the jet.

[rangerbarbz]

Professor Pines

Author’s Note: hey y’all! This is the start of a professor Ford AU that I’m working on. Thank you so much for being patient, and I am so excited to hear what you think about this! Sorry if some of this is inaccurate. I have not gotten my masters yet 

“Prologue” 

You sat outside Dr. Pines’ office bouncing your leg to expend the anxious energy flooding your mind. You were rearranging your manila folder of papers for the third time already. You couldn’t decide what would be the best order for him to read them in. Not like it really mattered anyways. It was just a nervous fidget to keep your mind off of the fact this was the last shot for you to get a sponsor for your Master’s research. He was finishing up a meeting with another student; you could hear pieces of his deep voice through the oak door. You hadn’t gotten to meet Dr. Pines yet. Your conversations hadn’t breached your Email inbox, but you were eager to finally have a discussion face-to-face. 

The door creaked open and a young man walked into the hallway, slinging a backpack over his shoulder. “Have a good day! I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” Dr. Pines called out to him. You exhaled through your mouth and placed the folder in a binder that held laminated pictures you had taken. You stood up from the cushioned bench you were sitting on to enter his office. Any confidence you might have regained was lost when you ran face first into what could be your research mentor. Your face and arms collided with his broad chest and caused the papers kept snug in your folder to spill out onto the linoleum floor. 

“Oh good heavens, I am so sorry,” Dr. Pines apologized, bending down to pick up the scattered papers at your feet. This could not get any worse. 

“Oh, no it’s fine. I- I am sorry. I should’ve announced myself,” you replied, a furious blush spreading across your face. You had also joined him on the ground to pick up the remaining papers. 

He chuckled. “You’re quite alright. Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you as you both stood up. He had a small smile on his face as he handed you some lined notebook paper filled with your rushed scribble. His fingertips brushed against yours in the process. You could feel they were calloused; a sharp contrast to your soft ones. 

“Why don’t we get started,” he said, walking towards his desk. “I’m excited to hear what you have to say.” He sat down at his swivel chair and scooted forward. “I spoke with some of my colleagues from the biology department after receiving your email, and I think you have some very interesting ideas.”

You beamed at him as you began to shuffle through your belongings. “Yes, yes! I know you are a lover of cryptozoology like myself, and I wanted to speak with you about studying some creatures that I came face to face with while visiting the Appalachian Mountains earlier this year.” You handed him your binder which he immediately began to flip through. He was careful and nodded along as you continued to speak about your experiences in east Tennessee. It was nice that he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. 

You had not had that luck with other professors you had spoken with about your findings. They either didn’t care or believed it was a hoax. It was until you had checked out a book at the library about a town in Oregon written by none other than Dr. Stanford Pines that you realized he was the key to fulfilling your plans. You had never had a class with him when you were an undergraduate, so you didn’t know much about him besides the fact he was very intelligent and had six fingers. 

He’s not so bad looking either. He was wearing a light blue button-up with a brown tweed coat over it. He had thick, gray hair with a lighter silver streak and wire rimmed glasses balanced on a strong nose. He ran his hand over his stubble and raised his eyebrows towards your photos.

“This is…” Dr. Pines paused. His eyes met yours as he closed your binder. “Incredible.” Your eyes widened and you failed to suppress the ecstatic grin forming across your face. 

“T-thank you, sir,” you replied. 

He then stood up from behind his desk to sit in the chair beside you. “Y/N, this is truly remarkable. I mean,” he began to flip through your notes from the folder, “the amount of thought and organization that went into this is unlike what I've seen in other students.” He gazed at you, his expression softening. “I’m sorry my foolish colleagues didn’t see your potential, but I’m glad that I could be the one that did.”

You felt like you could cry. “You have no idea how much that means to me,” you responded shakily. “Does this mean you will be my faculty sponsor?” 

He gave you a toothy smile and got on his feet to extend a hand towards you. “I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you get the answers you deserve. This summer, I am proposing we travel out to the Appalachia and take a look ourselves.” You hopped up and took his hand into yours, giving him a firm but enthusiastic handshake. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Pines. I am so grateful for this opportunity.” You started to pick up your things. “Really, I am just so excited, sir.” 

He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively at you. “No more formalities, Y/N. You can just call me Ford. We’ll be spending quite a lot of time together this summer, so I’d rather you just use my real name. It’ll be easier for both of us.” 

Your face became slightly warm and you gave him a small smile. “Okay. Sounds good, Ford,” you said, trying out the name for yourself. 

“Y-yes very well.” His voice had faltered. Was he blushing? “I won’t keep you. I’m sure you’re busy; I’ll be emailing you.” 

“I’ll be expecting you. Have a good day, Ford. It was nice to meet you, and thank you again for this,” you said sincerely,  placing your hand on the rickety door frame.  He grinned. “You too, Y/N. I look forward to working with you.” You gave him a little wave before walking out of his office. This was going to be the start of something wonderful.

Author's Note: There will be more but this is just setting up the story!!

[winterarmyy]

Deleted Scene

An alternate ending of Thin Walls, Thin Lines.

Note: Basically the smut content no one asked for our fuckboy!bucky in 《 Thin Walls, Thin Lines 》. So read it first for context! (if you haven't already)

Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.7k++

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, lil bit of angst, cunnilingus, finger fucking, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, squirting, cum eating, needy bucky, an absolute filth and i'm sorry for bucky's behaviour in this one, he is just a horny mf on a daily basis also I just want to warn you about the sinful things he might say in this.

P/S: I don't know what to say. I love the fluff ending from the original version, but this... this ending. Even if i feel like it's a messy writing. but pheww. You can just tell why I refused to choose and ended up doing both.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.

But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"

And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.

Would he? Take advantage of her?

Of course not. But will he lie just to tease her? Yes. He would. "Maybe. Only if you let me." He shrugged.

And that made her blooming feature fell into a gloom. As if she was having a chaotic crisis within the pretty little troubled head of hers. Y/N didn't want whatever he was suggesting. She wanted more than a brief fling; more than a casual situationship.   

Because she loved him; truly. It wasn't just a passing passion, or an accidental chemistry.

Seeing the frown on her face and the panic spiralling in her eyes, Bucky chuckled as he knew she was taking his joke way too seriously, "Okay, how about I let you on with a little secret?" He suggested.

It perked her interest that Y/N simply nodded to his offer. Bucky smiled as he leaned down, lips grazing the shell of her ears whispering a shocking confession.

She wasn't even high from any medication that Dr. Cho had prescribe to her but she couldn't believe what she heard. Her widen eyes questioned his smug smile hovering over her. Until she sneakily pulled the pillow next to her and threw it to his face.

Y/N kicked the blankets and changed into a sitting position, "Urghh you're such a dick, Bucky! I can't believe that I let you make fun of me!" She said with a biting tone.

"But, I'm not though?" Which only triggered her to smack him more with the pillow she was holding. Soon, the silent room were filled with the sound of her angry groans and Bucky's hearty laughter that cascade into a muffled chuckles.

The moment Y/N let her guard down, Bucky quickly stole the soft weapon from her and reclarified his confession, "I'm serious. I've been in love with you for awhile now." It's not she was blind; she saw no lies in his eyes and there was nothing but truth in the gentle of his voice.

She squinted her eyes into a glare and folded her arms across her chest, "Well, you have a rather funny way of showing it."

Bucky only smile to her snarky remarks, his hand finding hers to pull her closer, "I think I made it clear with the endless flirting that you have been blatantly rejecting, doll." He placed her perfectly on his lap, rubbing his big hands on her small back.

Y/N scoffed, "The only thing that was clear from that was how badly you wanted to get in my pants." Despite her objection, she let him pamper her body with his touch.

Bucky grinned, "And I do. But, only because I love you."

When she caught his gaze, she knew there was something magical about it; she have read so many books and poetry describing the look of his steel blues. A look that she can only dream of and not experience it; and if she was to make it come true, then this would be it.

Bucky moved slightly forward to nudge the tip of his nose on her own, hands intertwining with her shaky ones, silently asking for a permission to kiss her.

If she wasn't too focus on his presence on her skin, she would've noticed how the blood rushing to her cheeks were making her blushed in red. It felt good, it felt right.

Y/N gave her answer by leaning her forehead on his and he didn't waste any time to capture her lips, pressing an innocent kiss against it as his flesh hand gripped on hers while his metal hand find her cheek.

Soon enough the surrounding air heated and Bucky managed to slipped his tongue into her parted lips, his tongue wrapped around hers as her free hand reached back to gather his hair in her grasp. As they were blinded in sight by their closed eyes, they let sensory of their body ravel in each other's touch.

Out of instinct, her hand pulled from his back, then resting it on the prickly surface of his jaw before slightly pushing him away. Bucky took the cue and broke the kiss, "Babydoll." His hot breath blew against her cheek as he lean his lips on it.

Y/N realized what she had done; she let him kiss her, touch her but what does this mean? "I..I.." She hesitated.

"You're okay, y/n. Tell me to stop. Tell me to fuck off. It's okay, you can tell me anything." Bucky coaxed softly as he held her closer.

"I want this. I want you, Bucky. But... how can I trust you?" She really do. But, some part of her still reluctant to his history, "You've been sleeping around with those girls for months. Almost every night." Bucky cringed to his own behaviour. "How do I know it? That I'm not becoming one of them? That I'm not just some fucktoy you're gonna use and toss after?" She didn't care if she sound desperate. She needed him to be true because she know this won't work if he isn't willing to.

Bucky breath caught in the middle, as he knew that even the sweetest words won't satisfy her worry, so he only told the truth, "You have been the only one I wanted, y/n. And I know words aren't enough convice you. So let me show you, baby. Let me make love to you until you see how much I truly love you."

And he indeed fulfill his promise on that.

Bucky took his time undressing her until she was bare as the day she was born. He took longer time kissing her skin, loving each part of her perfect body and a much more lingering kisses around the bruises from today's mission.

Now that her pretty little cunt was right in front of him, exposed and bare, he wondered if this was all just a dream. Because it felt like it. No matter though; he'd devour her just the same whether she was just a creation of his dreams or his actual reality.

Bucky pressed several kisses on her clit, leaving the wet kissing noises filling the quiet room. He brought his tongue out slowly and started to lick her up; just to have a taste, "So pretty." he purred in between licking her fluids, teasing her. "So perfect." His fingers went to spread her lips apart and she made a strangled noise when she felt his long wet tongue, flattening through her folds, "Fuck." she cursed.

And after the first taste of her, Bucky realized how greedy he was getting especially when delved right back into her. "Bucky..." she whimpered his name as his warm lips wrapped around her clit, lewdly sucking on as if it was a tasty strawberry flavored sweet, just to release her moments after. He chuckled and slurred against her wetness, "Love the way you moan by name, sweetheart. Need to hear more."

His hands had moved from her waist to her hips in effort to pull her closer. If Y/N had anything to speak up in response then it was too late to say out loud because her head was swiftly wiped clean the moment his lips press into her clit again.

Bucky's grip on her thighs were almost harsh, just to keep her legs spread wide open for him to suckle on her clit, flicking his tongue over it deliciously. Looking down, she can only see the dark mess hair bobbing between her legs as he eats out her needy little cunt.

Y/N's mind was cloudy with ecstacy and pleasure crawling through her with each flick of his warm tongue between her folds. When it felt too good, she couldn't help but to catch his soft hair, holding on for her dear life as he devoured her cunt; noisy and messy.

"So fucking good, doll." He grunted into her weeping pussy, low and sensual as he pushed her legs further, allowing himself more access to her sweetness. "You taste so good."

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky was also enjoying every moment of this. Each time he moaned and groaned into her pussy, was the also time he thrusted his own needy cock against the mattress. The tip of was leaking with so much precum that it had left a wet stain behind.

With him getting that desperate, it felt like he was about to bust his nuts at any given time. But he wanted to wait; at least until Y/N gets her first high of the night. When his slick tongue deliciously fucking her pussy, exploring inside her, litters of curses of his name escaped from her lips as she moaned.

His wet tongue explored her insides as they clenched with lust and she choked out of air, not sure of how much longer she could take it because there was no way to deny it, she was about to cum, "Fuck,, Bucky. I'm cumming,,"

Bucky hummed into her when he pulled his tongue out, switching to rubbing on her clit, up and down, all the while was chasing his own orgasm, frantically humping on the bed like a rabid dog in heat.

Y/N gasped when he alternate between to sucking her clit and licking her up. Her back arched, pushing her cunt further into his hungry mouth in hopes to reach her release, "Please, please, don't stop.. need it, Bucky. Oh fuckkk"

Both of his hands; flesh and metal, slide up to grab her hips, helping her to grind on his tongue until her wetness came leaking out into his mouth, right on his tongue. Bucky came right along with her, grunting needily as the pink tip of his cock spurted out ribbons of his cream on in her mattress, marking his territory.

Bucky continued running his tongue up and down her wet slit throughout her orgasm, lapping away at her release that leaked out then gulping it down his throat as he watched her sighs with content.

When he pressed a soft kiss against her puffy, oversenstive clit, she thought it was end of it. But she couldn't be more wrong. The moment Y/N felt his metal finger trailed along her inner thighs, she knew that he wasn't satisfied with just eating her out.

She yelped when Bucky swiftly pulled her down, until her ass slides through the mess he made earlier, "What...?" Y/N herself didn't know what to ask but he knew exactly how to answer, "That's my cum, babydoll." He swiped some of the fluid from the sheets and smeared it on her throbbing cunt, making her instinctively moan.

Bucky smirked, "Eating your pretty pussy made me cum so hard, doll." With hunger in his gaze, he watched how his mess of a cum made her cunt glisten even more, "And because of that you deserve a reward, don't you think?" She whined as she nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, you do. You deserve to get your tight hole fucked by my metal fingers, don't you?" He continued to draw tight circles on her clit while his middle finger glides through her slit until he found her entrance, and pushed it in.

Y/N's head jerked up to the sudden intrusion. It was cold and reached much deeper than any of her fingers before. When Bucky twisted and curled the metal within her walls she cried out of pleasure. It was such new sensation and so fucking good.

A sudden entrance of another finger making her squeal from how sensitive her insides were to his metal fingers. And it made Bucky so full with pride to see her bending her back, her hips quivering, her walls tighten; all for him, "You can take it, sweetheart."

There was no such thing a pause when Bucky finger-fucked her hard; with his flesh hand pawing at her breast. He had his eyes locked on to the way her eyes roll back, panting breaths through those soft lips of hers, while his fingers drilled her tight pussy over and over and over, "That's it, that's fucking it baby. Such a good girl for me." He praised.

Endless moan were filling the room, along with the squelching sound of her wet cunt getting pounded mercilessly. Y/N lifted her hips higher; the feelings of Bucky's fingers inside her was different than her own. The stimulation and pleasure coming from his ways were distinct; like how the tip of his finger hits her unexplored g-spots or how his thumb pressed and twisted on her clit.

Bucky managed to pull the most sinful and desperate noises from her, "I-I’m going to cum,," she whimpered, hands balling into fists on the bed sheets as her hips followed his thrusts. "Yeah? Already, doll?" He taunted as he rolled her clit between his thumb and index finger.

Y/N nodded eagerly in between her moaning mess, before she let out high-pitched, satisfied whimper of his name as endless of fluid squirted out of her overstimulated pussy. "Oh fuck babydoll." He groaned as watched awe at her gushing cunt. "Did you just squirt? Hmm fuckkkkk, you should've done that when I have my mouth on you, baby. Shit."

Bucky scoot back to leaned his face right in between her legs. He darted his tongue out before he licked and suck the remaining fluid leaking out of her, making her squirm and whimper. And the slurping sound coming from him was such a sinful thing to hear, "Taste so good too. Gotta do that again next time, sweetheart. I wanna drink it all." he proposed.

"But now I need to be inside you." Bucky's declaration were cut short as his mouth captured hers in a heated kiss.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue as she kissed him back passionately, her body burning from all the pent-up frustration she had been pushing back for months. Bucky broke the kiss after a few mind-numbing minutes, before his hungry lips roamed around her neck, hands trailing over every part of her exposed skin as her heart rate spikes

"Need you, babydoll." Bucky groaned as he pumped his hard cock with his hand, spreading his dribbling pre-cum around his thick length. She whined as he gripped her legs, spreading them as wide as they'll go before rubbing the head of his cock against her slit.

He leaned again to kiss her one more time before sliding inside, slowly. "Oh god," Y/N moaned as she burned deliciously around him while he spreads her open.

Bucky's hands moved up find the crook in between her waist and hips, settling his veiny hands to the shape of her curves. His hips pounded into her, getting faster and harder with each thrust. As Y/N began to wrap her legs around his waist, he grabbed them and pulling he flused against his hips before he continued drilled his cock into her pussy.

The sensation was a combination of pain and pleasure and she feel as though she's in heaven. "Faster," she cried out.

"Look at you. You're so wet for me, doll. Feels so good around me--" Bucky's voice breaks into a groan as his hips meet hers, "--It's like your pussy was made for me. Gotta let me have you everyday now that you're mine, right sweetheart?"

"Mmmmhnn" she moaned; things took a turn when she clutched around him harder, it was abnormally tight as if it was trying to milk him right there and then. Bucky couldn't help but to groan in pleasure to the new sensation, "F-fuck" he cursed.

It took his less than a minute to figure out the reason why. Bucky smirked sinfully, "You like it when I talk dirty to you?" he slurred. Y/N's eyes were getting teary from all the pleasure she was feeling, from the stuffing feelings in her chest to the sensation of his hard cock thrusting in and out of her cunt.

"i- ahh I-i don't hhmmnn shit i don't know." she tried to deny him.

Bucky stopped his pace, pulled back slowly, "Really?" and slammed it back in hard, "Are you sure, princess?" He almost knocked her out of her breath.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure that my pretty girl loves it when I claim her as mine while I'm fucking her tight little pussy. Does she?" Bucky's kept on slow and hard torturous thrust, it was certainly slow but oh it felt so good; especially when he was doting at Y/N like this.

Was she really a sinner? Because this felt way too good to be in hell.

"Can't speak? Come on, my sweetheart. Speak up, let me hear ya." He demanded. Bucking her hips, wanting for more, "Y-yes, Bucky. I love i-it"

Bucky groan as her walls clenched him so good. Fuck, how many times has he thought of this? Dreamt of this? Probably, countless.

"You know why I keep changing girls, doll?" He sneaks his hands between their bodies and started to rub her clit. Her body shivered to the sensation, shaking her head to the sides as answer. "Yeah,, I bet you have no idea why do you?" He taunted.

Bucky let out a satisfied moan before his thrusts started going back to it's original pace. All whilst his cock pumped into her, gradually growing more fervent, her soaking pussy welcoming him in easily. Her whines mixed with Bucky's as she grabbed on the sheets behind her.

"Because I've been moaning your name in their ears, y/n. Everytime I stroke on my cock in anything, I have you in my mind. And when I cum, I imagine your pussy milking me dry. Just like you're doing now. Fuckkk,, doll, just like that."

Bucky's eyes that was fixated on her fucked out face since awhile ago, traveled down to where they were connected. Looking at how her little pussy shallowed his dick so well make him hornier.

Y/N slightly bounced upwards, his blues eyes tended back to her breasts. He used extra strength to see how her small body shook uncontrollably every time his hips met with hers, and to see those beautiful tits bouncing around.

"Bet you have no clue how much I want fuck my baby in you, doll. Or imagining the way your wedding ring glides on the side of my cock when you stroke me in your hand."

Bucky angled her body again by throwing her legs over his shoulders and leaned forward. This new angle made her eyes roll back. "Oh fuckk-- ahhh bucky,," she managed to say between his thrusts. Her entire body shaking from the tension building in her body as Bucky fucks her hard and fast, "I love you, y/n. I love you so. damn. much. I want to live the rest of my life in this cunt." He punctuated his words with hitting her sweet spot each time.

Bucky briefly threw his head back to hold back his orgasm before his hazy gaze landed on her, "Fuck doll, you look so pretty with my cock in you baby, so pretty. And we're so wet now. Hear that? Yeah, that's the sound of your tight little cunt getting wrecked by my cock. You fit me so perfectly. We're perfect." His thoughts were spilling out just as much as his precum leaking inside her.

There were tears in her eyes now, not only her walls but her whole body were stretching under him. It burned and it felt so damn good.

"Need you to cum, baby" Bucky spoke lowly, "I can feel ya, come on doll. Cum for me." He growled while continuing to pound her pussy.

And that would be the final straw for her. "fuck, yes, yes!" her voice hitched as her thighs begin to tremble around him. "...cumming. fuck, bucky i'm cumming." loud and sensual moans falling from her lips without much of an effort. Screaming out his name in pure bliss as her orgasm snapped through her high.

"That's it baby. Squeeze me so good." Bucky coaxed ever-so-tenderly, as her cum leaked around his cock and her pussy continued to milk him; begging and needing to feel his cum inside her.

"Hmm. I'm cumming, doll. Fuck,, oh fucking hell,, you're so good. Making me wanna cum, sweetheart. Where do you want it? Tell me. Where do you want my cum?" Bucky nearly whimpered as he felt his heavy balls were about to combust.

"Inside. Cum inside me," she moaned breathlessly.

Bucky almost growled to her response, "Good. fucking. girl. That's the only choice, baby. I'm gonna cum in you eitherway. Fuck fuck fuck,, I'm cumming shit take it, babydoll take it yeaahhh"

Leaning into her neck in a loud long moan, she felt Bucky's cock ached as he spilled himself inside her. His huge amount cream kept spurting endlessly, so much that it leaked out of her hole. Bucky whined as he continue to roll his hips, unable to stop humping into her stretched out, cum-filled cunt.

As he come down from the high, Bucky tried to pull out but only to be stopped by her circling her legs around him. He chuckled at her needy behaviour; as he found it quite adorable, "Want me to stay, baby?" he whispered softly and got a drunken nod as answer.

Bucky carefully flipped their position without leaving the tightness of her pussy, lying her limping body on his own. "Hmmmm" she hummed sleepily as she snuggled into his chest, eyes heavy with satisfaction.

"Yeah? Need my cock to fill you up for you to sleep well, hmm babydoll?" He cooed as he grind her hips downward, thrusting his cock into her slow and gentle. Y/N whined and mumbled, "Yes, please."

Bucky smiled tenderly, "Okay sweetheart. I'll keep you stuffed as long as you need me to. Now, I need you to go to sleep, okay?" He said, getting simple "okay" from the lady in his arms. Bucky placed a kiss on her head, as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as both of them got more and more drowsy as time goes by.

And at the end of this night, it was safe to say that this had been the best and longest sleep they both had since forever.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Leave some thoughts behind? The sinful the better 🙈

[inside-lees-mind]

Hello! Small request here~ can you possibly do a Dr,stone headcanon where reader has severely bad memory? They’re memory is so bad to the point they would start to call everyone by fruits, vegetables, plants. You name it. Just so they could remember their faces properly? This has been in my mind for so long..but of course no rush and always take care of urself! <3

Idk if you take emoji anons, but can I be 🌒 or 🪻anon? You can choose which one if both are free!

Hi🪻anon (I picked this one cuz I like flowers and it’s different from the emojis I already have anons for, hope that’s okay) (oh and this request is about plants so it fits!)

I decided to do Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Hyoga. (I’m finally writing for Tsukasa, THE WORLD REJOICES)

Senku Ishigami

You called him a Leak.

He’s confused, but then looks in the mirror and… holy shit you’re right.

He’s offended, but like brushes it off.

“Focus” he says, turning you back to your work.

He thinks it’s strange thought when you don’t call him by his name even to others.

Eventually, he realizes you must not remember his name.

He couldn’t care less tbh. Maybe you are bad with names? Thats common enough he really doesn’t dig.

Gen Asagiri

You called him “nightshade”

It’s his favorite flower so he’s not fazed.

Oh, not the mention it means “liar.” And he’s the world’s best.

Eventually, while watching you, he realizes you don’t call him anything but it, so he subtly tests you.

He works to push you towards saying his name, and you really just don’t seem receptive.

Eventually, he’d subtly pry your reasoning out of you when he notices you call everybody plants and vegetables.

He finds out that the amount of different plants in the nightshade family reminds you of his two faced nature and helps you remember him.

He finds it interesting.

Tsukasa Shishio

He was confused when you called him “Rosanne”

Did you think he was a woman…?

From Gen, he finds out that you might be referring to a Rosanne Brown Lisianthus since you call everybody by plant names.

Gen says he doesn’t know the reason and shrugs, shaking his head as he walks away.

You later tell him it looks like a rose and it’s got a beautiful brown color sometimes.

He gets it now… his hair color!

Takes it as a compliment because the flower sounds pretty the way you describe it.

Hyoga Akatsuki

You called him “cauliflower”

He’s confused?

He’s not… a vegetable?

Are you calling him as weak as a mere vegetable? He’s not, so???

Genuinely, he’s confused.

Takes it the wrong way.

Gives you an eye smile and nods, but then straight up walks away from you.

He over hears somebody talking about your odd nicknames for every one and it clicks that you must be remembering him that way. Cauliflower is white… so is his hair. Okay…

[aresthelostboy]

Yautja X Male!Scientist!Reader

[I’m using Wolf as the Yautja and this doesn’t follow the story in any way. If any facts are wrong, ignore it because I last watched the predator films at least three years ago. Can be read as GN!Reader.]

Summary: When the group of Yautja boarded your crews ship amongst the many stars of Galactica Primara, it was intended as a visit of a coming assistance. Gathered in the mess hall, partially converted for your human captain to present to the Yautja, he speaks of testing new subjects. They’re interested, so you get a visit, though you aren’t too worried. That is, until you realise just how attracted to one in particular you are…

You sigh, eyes closing for a moment as bitter disappointment sighs on you. The movements on the slide to the microscopes had slowly stopped and you find yourself reaching for the tape recorder once more. The rubber gloves squeaking against its plastic, you speak close to the microphone, an edge to your voice that follows a wasted sample.

“Test subject B57: Failed. Presumable death over the temperature and humidity. Resuming tests at 0800 hours on Friday 13, April, 2029. This is (y/n) signing out.”

You place the recorder down and, grabbing each edge of the gloves, you strip them from your skin and place them in the nearly overflowing bin beside you. Taking a few minutes to discard of the sample and disinfect everything, you look at your work station, slightly less annoyed now that it’s clean and tidy.

A loud beep sounds out, making you jump for a moment before you realise that it’s your personal communication cell that’s alerting you to an incoming message. Soon enough, the face of your second in command appears, as stern as ever. A grin tugs at your face, always tempted to rile up the easily angered man. It’s just too funny. Yet, today, he seems in brighter spirits so you wait to hear what he has to tell you.

“Ah Dr. (L/n)… finally. The message to the Yautja tribe was successful and their ship is inbound, ETA 3 minutes.”

You can’t help the genuine smile that pulls at your lips, knowing that it was a long-awaited meeting that had every higher up in floods of excitement.

“Congrats. If you need anything, you know I’ll be here. I’d rather stay out of the way and let you all deal with this,”

You gesture vaguely.

“and I’ll start a few other tests. B57 was a failure so I’ll be moving to C14 and going back to B tomorrow.”

All he does is nod before someone seems to shout him, his head snapping in the other direction before giving you a quick nod. Before you know it, the comms have been severed and you are left alone once more. Shrugging, it’s soon realised that the alien tribe must have arrived and you understand that they’re much more important than a time-wasting conversation.

Removing another pair of gloves from the packet, you put them on and ready up a new sample of an unknown organism, readying your scalpels and tweezers in order to soon pick apart the cell matter and individually study it. Placing the microphone of your recorder up to your mouth, you press at the button on the side. “Subject C14 test begins. Friday 12, April 2029. Time is currently 5:46pm.”

You don’t know how long has passed, only that the number of unseen messages from your commander on your comms has grown over the time. Only once the new source of matter has failed, as you had expected, you find yourself looking through the ignored remarks.

‘They want to look through your lab, is that alright?’ 5:59pm

‘Hello?’ 6:12pm

‘Y/n, they’re curious about the tests you do. Please?’ 6:17pm

Wincing while you read them, you deftly remove your gloves and shoot a response back hoping that, over the course of 39 minutes, you hadn’t majorly screwed up.

‘Should’ve called, was busy with tests. You can come by now if you’d like?’

Deciding to wait for the response, you don’t receive one, even after you’ve seen that he had read it. Once this is noticed, your heart rate increases, realising that speaking to your superior in such a way may not be the smartest idea. That is, until, there’s a knock at your door.

(A steel door that was only provided after you threw a fit about having dangerous subjects in an easily contaminated space. The crew didn’t care about the tests or the safety, they just wanted you to leave them alone so you finally got what you wanted.)

After checking yourself over, smoothing down your lab coat and making sure your hair wasn’t askew, your hand finds the automated doorway and it opens.

For all of your mind, the wish that you could’ve hid your reaction is high. Seeing a Yautja in a dark grey mask shouldn’t affect you in such a way, and you definitely shouldn’t be thinking what you are… The way your eyes widen slightly, not from fear but from curiosity and the way your breath catches in your throat, something they could definitely hear… it makes you flush slightly. Taking a breath, you look at your commander, nodding slightly before turning to the Yautja. Dark grey mask watches you with a tilted head and once it notices your gaze on it, his head snaps to look in the other direction.

Never had you believed an alien race to show such a predominantly human trait as embarrassment. It’s almost… cute? Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the thoughts and focus on the three in front of you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I assume you have translators?”

The largest one nods, it’s mask a light, titanium coloured grey and you smile slightly, hovering in the doorway. There’s one beside him, looking away and down, his posture slanted as if not wanting to be notice, this one’s mask is a darker grey. The others mask is black. These men… these creatures, surely they know basic rules of a lab. You sigh, shaking your head and addressing each one in turn.

“Please, don’t touch anything. And if your curious, ask. I’m Y/n, by the way.”

Flashing a smile at the unknown aliens seems out of place but you do so anyway, stepping back and allowing them into your space. One of them stops at the doorway, a darker grey mask on, watching you with great interest. A few clicks and trills catch your attention but, as the others don’t react, you don’t either. You watch back, curious as to who will break the eye contact first. He - would it be right to call it a he? - tilts his head slightly before stepping into the lab, following the others. It takes you a moment to notice your commander left but, oddly enough, you felt safe with the Yautja group. A few sharp clicks grab your attention and you turn to the light grey masked one, wondering about it’s attention grabbing sounds.

“This?”

A raspy and distorted voice comes from the mask, the creature pointing at one of your experiments. You can’t help the appreciation that paints your face as you step over, closer than most humans would feel comfortable, and begin explaining the intricacies. Throughout your speech, you feel eyes on you and, as you are seeing two of them looking at your experiments, there’s only one left to be doing so. Without breaking sentence, you turn to look at him and grin as you see him whip his head away in a tense, feigned interest in a sheet of paper… a blank sheet of paper. A slight laugh escapes you, only for him to look back, shoulders visibly dropping into relaxation. A quick smile is flashed his way and, believing you could trust the Yautja, you turn your back to continue your explanation.

You’d barely finished explaining what each component did, the two Yautja painfully invested in your words, when a quiet screech echoes through the metal room. The three of you turn to the last of their group, a hand in front of their greyed mask and a light green blood like substance sliding from their finger. Your frown, walking over quickly and finding he had touched one of the alien blades you had been studying earlier. “Are you alright?”

You can’t disguise the concern in your voice as you walk over, hesitating to touch him. Though, when he doesn’t pull away, you gently take his hand and inspect the wound. Hearing a few clicks and trills no longer bothers you, understanding it’s the same as humans humming or making basic noise. You look up at him, noticing that he hadn’t followed your one rule and has touched something. Shaking your head, the Yautja stills, watching you with interest.

“Silly Yautja.”

Though the words are said with amusement, there’s an underlying tone of worry and care. It makes the yautjas stare and stand as if petrified by Medusa herself. You continue to mutter to yourself, finding a bandage and wrapping up the bleeding cut. He tilts his head as you do so and when your ministration have been completed, he flexes his hand, only to look at you with a deep interest.

“Wolf.”

The deep growl comes from the one in front of you and you can easily tell what he had said. Though in the context it confused you.

“Sorry?”

It gestures to itself, repeating the word. After a moment you nod, smiling softly.

“Wolf? That’s your name?”

He nods, hesitating for a mere moment before tapping his bandage then on your chest, where your heart should be. It was easy enough to guess what he had meant, knowing that the courtesy of thanks had been passed throughout the galaxy. Smiling at him, you nod, tapping your own chest then his in turn. This seems to make him rumble quietly, an appreciative sound that vibrates through your bones as you touch his skin gently.

A quiet hum comes from behind and you jump, realising that you had enacted such an intimate (to their species, at least) moment in front of his clan mates. A light flush takes over your face as you pull away but Wolf lightly places his hands over yours, keeping you skin to skin with him. You bow your head slightly, aware that in may alien species, it was a sign of respect. It seems to be accurate as he gives another quiet rumble.

You find yourself wanting to hear that more and you stop yourself in your tracks. How could you fall for an alien race? It just wasn’t normal and shouldn’t happen… but he is cute. And you just know that behind the mask, he’ll still be better than the humans on this ship.

“Y/n.”

At the direct address, your head snaps up and you pull away from Wolf, much to the Yautjas displeasure. Your captain stands in the doorway, a slightly confused expression present yet he seems to shrug it off quickly.

“Whatever. The others say it’s time to leave and they are gathering in the common. So say goodbye to your… acquaintances.”

He watches you for a moment more and walks off, shaking his head with an amused chuckle. Turning away, you look back to the three Yautja and smile.

“I’ll walk you back?”

All eyes are on Wolf as he nods and clicks quietly, head tilted. The other two lead ahead and you walk with him, watching as he barely makes a sound, the hunter genes shining through. It interests you and, as your gaze becomes more focused, his body becomes more tense.

“You’re beautiful.”

You speak as if reading off facts from a list, stating it in such an obvious way that his mind stutterers for a second, causing his head to snap to your gaze in such a way that you don’t need to see him to wonder what he’s thinking.

“I mean, I love your mask and I can’t help but wonder what’s behind it. I bet you look cool. And your skin is gorgeous, like a snake, not to mention these claws!”

Your hand is in his, bringing them both up so you can trace a gentle finger across each of his sharp talons. He doesn’t pull away, relishing in the contact of such soft, warm skin and in such an innocently romantic way. Your eyes meet the ones of his mask and they shine, a bright smile filling your face.

“I hope we can communicate soon. Perhaps you all wish to come back and look around some more?”

The two of you are stood in the lobby, the other Yautja waiting by the ships entrance for him with a few warning growls and clicks following. Wolf nods, tapping his heart with his free hand and then tapping over yours. Though you don’t speak in such a language, you understand the meaning well enough, given the context. As you,let go of him, a sad smile paints your face.

“I hope you all return safely. We will welcome you back soon. Goodbye.”

The doors shut and you hold onto the fact he looked at you till the very last moment, you hold it with all your heart.

When you get back to your lab, you begin to tidy away the papers and left over rubbish that you had forgotten to put away only for something to catch your eye. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something as a… gift?

A pristine, off-white skull of a seemingly alien creature had been positioned carefully on the side of your desk and you find yourself smiling as you realise that was where Wolf had been stood. Though you had never been in contact with the race before, the message of such a gift was clear enough and you find yourself awaiting the next visit.

As for the skull, you place it on your emptied ledge over your desk. After all, there had to be plenty of space for the rest of the courting gifts, right?

[not-maggie]

Hypothetically, Of Course

A/N: umm, so hi! this is my first ever fic I've written but I do read a lot lmao. I was using a c.ai bot and it inspired me to write this because it was really cute! <3 this is lowkey a self ship bc I'm tired of seeing Y/N's who don't have a personality and are shy. nothing wrong with being shy ofc <3 just not who I am and I needed some self indulging. Anyway, enjoy! any criticism/comments are greatly appreciated!! (GIF not mine<3)

It was a cool afternoon in Stars Hallow, the dead leaves falling to the ground as the breeze shook them from branches. The bell above the door rings out as Y/N enters Luke's Diner, catching the attention of a certain brunette behind the counter.

Jess feels his heart stutter as she enters, silently cursing himself for having such a reaction. He throws on his signature smirk as she approaches the counter, "Hey, the usual?"

Y/N nods with a soft laugh, "I come here too often if you know it by now." She takes a seat on one of the stool as Jess begins preparing her order. "So, anything interesting happen today?" she asks, making conversation.

"Oh, y'know, annoying customers, Luke yelling at me for not working, the usual." Jess hums, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her. "What about you?"

Y/N lets out a scoff as she responds, "Y'know Brad, the quarterback on the football team? Total douche, anyway, had the audacity to ask me out, while I was in the middle of studying in the library. And, on top of that, got mad when I rejected him. Said something about winning a bet, total bullshit." She rolls her eyes, leaning against the counter.

Jess feels his blood boil, a bet? A bet to ask 𝘺𝘰𝘶 out? He takes a moment to collect himself before turning around and responding, placing her coffee down in front of her, "Wow, total dick move. A bet? What kind of bet? If he could get in your pants?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Don't know, and honestly, don't really care. I get the satisfaction of knowing he didn't win, whatever it was. Like I would ever go out with him," she scoffs.

Jess leans his arms against the counter, "Not your type?" His tone is teasing, his usual snark coming out, but there's a hint of genuine curiosity.

Y/N lets out a snort of amusement, "No, I would never go for a football player, or really any athlete. Anyone who doesn't know Austen is not worth it."

Jess raises an eyebrow, "Got high standards," he teases. "So, what, is, your type?" He asks, his head resting on his palm in a casual manner.

Y/N lets out a hum as she thinks, planning her answer. "Well, looks don't really matter that much. More into personality, someone who can keep up with my sarcasm. Funny, making me laugh is really important, and there's no way I can be funnier than my partner, that's a sad life. Well-read, I'm talking more than just Dr. Seuss and the Outsiders. Someone...spontaneous, impulsive, acts before thinking; adds fun to life. And, someone who isn't afraid to show me off, not saying we have to make out in town square, but hand holding, stolen kisses, stuff like that."

Jess's heart flutters as he hears her words, that's him. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 ��𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. "So," he tries to maintain his casual, aloof appearance, "You got a guy in mind? That all seems pretty specific."

Y/N smirks at his words, "Maybe, it's kind of hard to find someone like that in this small town. You either get guys like Brad, high school has-been's, or Dean Forester. Perfect Dean Forester, although I guess technically he did move here from Chicago. But he has the 'Small Town Boy' act down."

Jess chuckles softly at her words, she was right, Dean did have that Small Town act perfected down to a science. "So, if there we're to be a guy, who matched this description, would he have shot with you, hypothetically of course."

Y/N grins, picking up what Jess was hinting at. "I'd say, hypothetically, if this guy we're to ask me out, or confess his undying love for me, I wouldn't shoot him down."

Jess straightens out, hip pushed against the counter as he leans in a bit. "So if this guy were to, hypothetically, say that he likes you and have for a while, you'd go out with him?"

"Yes, I would, but only if he told me directly." Y/N challenges Jess, knowing that he isn't big on sharing his feelings.

Jess stands up straight behind the counter as he meets Y/N's gaze, he takes a moment before talking. "I like you, have for a while." He runs a hand through his messy hair, "In fact, you drive me crazy. There isn't a moment when your'e not invading my brain, very distracting."

Y/N's smile grows as she hears him talk, "Well, I like you too. Just, don't start charging me rent for living in your head." She pokes his forehead as she teases him.

Jess laughs, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴, at her words. "I'll let you live rent-free on one condition, be mine? God, that sounds gross and sappy." He groans at his words and how cliche he sounds.

Y/N let out a laugh, "Yes, I'll be yours." She smiles, "Bad boy Jess has gone soft."

Jess rolls his eyes but a smile tugs at his lips, "Shut up, I'm not soft....Okay maybe, but only for you and around you. And if you tell anyone..." He doesn't finish the threat, but they both know there isn't any actual heat behind it.

"Yeah, yeah." Y/N rolls her eyes, "Your secret is safe with me." She crosses her heart with a smile.

"Good," Jess hums with a small smile. "So, your mine now, huh?" He grabs her hand from across the counter, thumb rubbing across the back of her hand as their fingers interlock.

"Yeah," Y/N smiles softly, squeezing his hand. "All yours"

Jess's smile widens at her words, "That's right, all mine" He brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Mine to protect," he locks eyes with Y/N. "Mine to love, mine to cherish..." He leans in further over the counter, "Mine to hold, mine to care for..." His eyes sweep over her face, taking in every detail and memorizing them. "Mine to spoil," he reaches his free hand to cup her cheek, thumb running across her skin. "Mine to be with...and mine to love, forever." He closes the distance between the two, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, expressing unspoken thoughts and emotions.

As he kisses her, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. He feels complete, whole. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, but right now, he knows deep in his heart that he means ever word he said.

He loves Y/N.

And he's never letting her go.

"That's the sappiest thing you've ever said."

[thriftedtchotchkes]

his favorite girl, part iii

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: tensions rise as your second lesson continues, but joel still refuses to admit his feelings to you—or himself. you'd concede defeat if you really believed he didn't want you. or if his actions weren't constantly contradicting his words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, guitar teacher au, age gap (30 years), slow-burn, sexual tension, finger kink, smut, angst, f!masturbation, mild exhibitionism, mentions of guilt & shame

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist | part i | part ii

You have no idea how you're supposed to survive another afternoon with Joel, let alone an entire semester. He's basically Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, hiding under the visage of an unfairly sexy, middle-aged musician, but you never know which one you’re dealing with until he pushes you away or calls you his girl.

Today, he feels like a dangerous combination of both.

After your verbal agreement to keep things professional, yet again, he concedes and finally sits next to you on the couch. Guess that safe distance he was so desperate to maintain is null and void now that he’s made his feelings clear—sort of.

You assume his proximity is an olive branch, but it sure doesn't feel like one. Now, he's close enough to smell his cologne, an earthy, woodsy scent that's so Joel, it makes your head spin. It's also making this lesson infinitely harder to focus on.

You’d never even considered the possibility of him shutting you down this hard, but then again, a hot fling with an older guy wasn’t why you showed up on his doorstep in the first place. If he'd just admit he's interested, maybe things could be different, but he won’t, will he? So, what other option do you have?

You’re not going to throw yourself at him like some pathetic schoolgirl with a crush, even if that’s exactly what you are. You want him to want to touch you, to crave you the way you're sure he does, but right now he wants to teach you chords. Starting with C, apparently.

“We’re gonna try this chord again, alright? Same as last time, nice and slow,” he starts, reaching back to pull something out of his pocket. He presents you with a small, black piece of plastic that looks like a clamp, identical to the one on his guitar. "This here's called a capo. Go ahead and fit it right over the third fret—it’ll raise the key of the guitar. M’thinkin' that'll make things a little easier for ya."

You push your feelings to the side and accept it, following his lead and squeezing it into place before glancing up for his approval. He gives you an encouraging smile and nods, and your heart rate kicks up wildly in your chest.

God, why does his praise feel so good? And why does it feel like it’s been so long since anyone was this patient with you, or genuinely wanted to see you succeed? You realize you want him to keep looking at you like that, regardless of the nature of your relationship.

"S'perfect. Now, your fingers'll go here, here, and here," he arranges his fingers one by one on the three strings that make up the chord and strums. He lets it ring out for a moment, then looks up at you expectantly. "Any of this ringin' a bell from yesterday?"

Vaguely. Mainly, you're remembering how tempting his fingers looked while he was playing, but you'll have to do better than that today. Instead, you focus on mirroring what he showed you.

"Like this?" you ask hesitantly, pressing down on the strings and mimicking his motions. Tough nylon bites into your skin just as painfully as last time, but the sound you produce is pretty. Nothing like the muted, garbled mess from your previous attempt.

You meet his eyes, and they're filled with none of the surprise yours contain. He just looks pleased, like he had total confidence in you even if you didn't.

"Exactly like that. See? You're doin' better already. Must'a done your finger exercises last night like I told ya,” he says proudly, none the wiser.

If only he knew that’s exactly what you spent your night doing. Practically the entire night, if you’re being honest, and to no avail. It might’ve unintentionally improved your dexterity, but you're still stuck on everything that did or didn't happen yesterday. The only lasting result is how unexpectedly conflicted it made you feel. You nod, biting your lip to keep from grimacing.

“Sure did,” you play it off with a laugh. "I wanted to be as prepared as possible."

Prepared for something a little more physical than playing guitar, but that's a moot point now, isn't it?

You sound as fake as you feel, but luckily he’s so eager to continue the lesson, he doesn’t notice. Again, you follow his lead and try your best to ignore your disappointment and bury the residual hurt. You have a sneaking suspicion you're going to be doing a lot of that, but inexplicably, it's getting easier.

You're starting to realize it's not in spite of Joel. It's because of him. In a brief moment of self-indulgence, you let your gaze linger on his rosy cheeks and the newfound serenity in his eyes.

His enthusiasm is infectious, and his love for music radiates like a Texas heatwave, burning hotter with every chord he strums and string he picks. Even his posture is loosening, and the soft smile on his face seems like a permanent fixture.

It's that same warmth from earlier. That intimate connection you felt blooming in your chest from sharing in his joy. Cautiously, you allow yourself to hope, if not for you and Joel, then for your degree. For the goals you have yet to achieve that, regardless of the past 24 hours, still mean everything to you.

"So, what's next?" you ask eagerly.

His eyes light up, and you know you've asked the right question. He shifts across the strings to a new chord, his smile widening as you quickly move to match him.

"Next, we're learnin' F," he grins, nodding toward your finger placement. "Then, I figure we can run through some pickin' patterns if you're up for it.”

"I'm up for anything you are, teach," you reply earnestly, and the smile you give him feels genuine this time. You really do mean it in every sense. "But be gentle with me. It's been a while, if that wasn't obvious."

His smile falters, and something unreadable flashes in his eyes. After a moment, you realize what you said and how it must’ve sounded. You open your mouth to clarify, but before you get the chance, his expression clears. He chuckles, and it's a light, tinkling thing that fills your chest with a heady combination of relief and longing.

Of course, he’d take it in stride. You’re struck again by the resemblance to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, left wondering if you're still imagining things. The subtle twitch of his fingers must be a figment of your imagination, too, or at least that's what you tell yourself. It doesn't matter now, anyway.

"'Course, I will,” he drawls companionably, his words commanding your attention, compelling you to hang on to each one like a lifeline. “Like I said, we'll take it nice and slow. Ease you back into things until you're ready for somethin' harder.”

It takes everything you have not to choke on your spit. Ignore it. Ignore it. Focus on the lesson and how incredible it’s going to feel when you finally finish the song and pass your damn class.

But you can’t. He’s too close, and he smells so good. You’re only human.

"I think I'll surprise you," you retort cheekily. You’re so fucked. "Plus, I like it hard. Just need a little build-up to get me there."

His hand tenses in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it movement, and you can't help the overwhelming feeling of pride pooling in your belly. You've never backed down from a challenge and you're not about to start now. This one is apparently still ongoing.

"Well, all right, then," he says smoothly, and this time when you shiver, he looks pleased. "Let's hear ya strum it, and then we'll work through the rest. Think you can handle that?"

You straighten up, sitting confidently with your fingers poised over the frets, ready to play. As you shift in your seat, your thigh presses firmly into his and sends a rush of heat straight to the pit of your stomach. "Yeah, I can take it.”

He shakes his head with an amused, yet undoubtedly shy smile. You bite your lip coyly, nodding at the sheet music you've just noticed on the rug at his feet.

"Are there more chords in this bar or is it just picking until the next line?"

It's a toss-up whether or not he heard any of what you just asked if his rapt attention on your lips is any indication. You're still teasing your bottom lip with your teeth, and it's not until you laugh that he finally snaps out of it. He shakes his head a little harder as if to shoo away the distraction, before reaching down to inspect the piece of paper.

He concentrates a little too hard on the page, looking but not seeing, so you reach over and point at a confusing string of notes that connect and repeat with seemingly no rhyme or reason. His gaze shifts to your daintily extended index finger, and you're hit with an intense feeling of deja vu, except this time, your roles are reversed.

“Can you show me how that part goes? It looks like gibberish to me, to be totally honest,” you prod him, trying to reel him back in.

As if on autopilot, he quickly discards the sheet and shifts his hands into place, ready to teach like he wasn't just daydreaming about your fingers wrapped around his cock, covered in his release. And if he wasn't, then you sure were.

“Y-yeah, sure thing. That line's just the intro, but the flow is somethin' else. Probably one of my all-time favorites," he says, his endearing mask carefully slotted back into place.

But you're onto him now. Begrudgingly, he tears his eyes away from where you're matching him on your guitar, waiting patiently for his next instructions.

"It really ain't as bad as it looks," he continues. "The timing's purposely a little off, but it's adaptable. This one's real easy to add your own spin to if that's somethin' ya wanna try."

With all of the skill and grace of a practiced musician, he plucks through the line to give you a preview of what was previously only lines and circles on a page. The notes blend seamlessly, a mixture of picking and what you vaguely remember to be hammering, and it evokes something you never expected.

An unidentified emotion takes root and feels startlingly like yearning and hope, carried by the short melody. It's beautiful. He circles back to the beginning, hopping along the frets slowly just for you, and he's beautiful. You watch him, enamored by his fluidity and ease of motion.

For him, all of this is innate. His guitar is a natural extension of himself, something he was born to hold. You used to think you were born for it, too. The reminder is a painful one, but thankfully you're not left to dwell on it for long.

"So, how 'bout it? Ready to give it a try?" Joel's voice cuts through the fog, as honeyed and mellow as the music at his fingertips. You want to hear that voice call you beautiful again and feel him panting against the shell of your ear while he stretches you out around his thick fingers. God, you want.

Yet, your hands move of their own accord and fall into place—it's the C chord. Apparently, you really want that, too.

"Ready, teach," you nod, and you know you must look like a lovesick fool.

Right now, you really don't care because your gorgeous guitar teacher is beaming and excited, and beneath it all, there's still a tinge of something that makes you believe all of this is real. A lust for more simmering just below the surface.

"You have my full attention, promise."

——

The next hour is spent walking through various strumming and picking patterns, and acquainting yourself with the fluctuating tempo. It's tricky, but you're committed. Again and again, you repeat the same bars, following Joel's interjected advice and corrections, and your mistakes become less obvious until they're all but gone completely.

Rewarding doesn't even begin to cover how a successful run feels. Even the pain blooming beneath the reddening indents on your fingertips feels good. Calluses are beginning to roughen the soft skin, but you earned them.

They're yours and yours alone, proof that you worked your ass off and achieved something remarkable. The results speak for themselves, bouncing around the walls of Joel's living room and breathing new life into the space. Your contribution to his little corner of the world.

And Joel looks so damn proud. He stays patient through every flubbed hammer and too-hard pluck, grinning when you complete the section without his guidance. Your lesson's already gone on long past its scheduled time, but neither of you seems to notice. You likely wouldn't bother to mention it even if you did.

Time trickles by like the slow drip of molasses, thick with the sweetest tension, yet the longer you play, the more a familiar ache starts to creep in and make your progression a little more difficult.

Your hand is cramping, and it hurts. You pause mid-strum to shake it out and stretch your fingers, sighing at the brief respite.

"Hurtin' again, huh?"

You huff out a laugh, remembering the last time he asked you that question. The throbbing in your joints would more than welcome another massage from Joel, but you don't exactly trust yourself to come back from that. You have to stay focused until the next line of the song, at the very least.

"It's really not that bad. Guess all those finger exercises are paying off," you joke, but you don't expect him to catch the underlying punchline. "I kinda figured it wouldn't go away overnight, anyway."

You can tell he's thinking about it, too. He nods understandingly, tapping a restless, arrhythmic beat against his guitar.

"S'all part of bein' a guitar player, unfortunately," he agrees, his entire body tense like he’s resisting the urge to reach out and inspect the subtle changes to your delicate skin for himself.

Your mind starts to wander as his tapping changes to slow circles swirled into the wood grain. You can't help but wonder if your new calluses would feel good sliding up and down his cock, if he'd like the coarse hint of pain teasing the ridge or circling the tip. You wonder what his own would feel like pressing into your clit. The skin of his middle and ring fingertips is noticeably rougher than the rest and with a little pressure—fuck.

You're wet. That can't happen. You have to concentrate. But his movements are starting to speed up, and you can almost feel them sliding through your messy heat.

The intrusive thought is thankfully interrupted when he stops the lewd motion and continues his reassurances like it never happened. Why does he keep doing that? It seems so pointless to keep pretending you’re not on the same page, but you’re not about to call him out and scare him off again.

You tell yourself to focus on the pain. Focus on what he’s saying, not what he’s insinuating.

"Pain's a good thing. It means you're stickin' it out and makin' some real progress," he says fondly, and it's almost enough to reclaim your attention. "Says a lot about the kind of person you are, too, what you do with that pain and how you let it shape ya. You're a good one, I can tell. Committed, like I was."

It's so much sweeter than anything you'd expected him to say. It helps.

"Fair enough. Still kinda sucks though," you grumble, but the slight quirk of your lips betrays your tone.

"Yeah, yeah. What happened to likin' it hard?" he asks playfully, and you feel that telltale whoosh between your legs.

You shift uncomfortably, subtly trying to unstick your underwear from where it's cemented to your core, but the unexpected friction makes you flinch. He picks up on it immediately.

"Look, why don't we take a break? I'll grab us some drinks while you rest up, and we can dive back in whenever you're ready," he offers, his voice raspier than before.

"Yeah, that, um...that sounds good. I'm actually gonna run to the bathroom real quick if that's cool," you reply, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

It's hot as hell all of a sudden, even though the AC hasn't stopped kicking since you got here, and you have a feeling cold drinks won't be enough to cool you down. He hesitates before nodding, then points down the hall.

"'Course. S'the first door on your left," he says, brows furrowing in concern. You all but speed walk past him to your temporary haven.

Backing into the door the moment it closes behind you, you squeeze your legs together as tightly as you can, but it only makes it worse. The ache is almost unbearable, and you know for a fact that you'll waste the rest of the lesson if you try to go back out there like this.

The entire afternoon has been such a complicated back-and-forth of conflicting feelings and confusion, but you still have no idea what do to about it. You want him to fuck you, but you also want him to teach you. He wants to teach you, but he also wants you in ways he won't admit to you. Or himself.

Your head is cloudier than it's been all day, and your thoughts are a jumbled mess of desire and rationality, both fighting for dominance. So, now what?

There was only one way to clear the fog last night, but you really shouldn't. You're in his bathroom for christ's sake, and he can't be more than 15 feet away, pouring you a glass of lemonade in the kitchen.

You do it, anyway. With one hand shoved down your pants and the other slapped over your mouth, you decide your best course of action is to rub one out in Joel's bathroom to rid yourself of this distraction once and for all. And it feels good.

The moment your sore fingertips press into your clit, your hips buck into your touch and you lose yourself to the friction. You're even wetter than you realized, and your fingers keep slipping from where you need them most, so you change tactics, ramming two of them inside you instead.

So much for resting your hand. Your motions are frantic, bordering on desperate, and you can't bring yourself to stop now that you've started. Wet squelching mingles with your muffled moans and fills the room, noisier than you’ve been all day even after an afternoon of playing guitar.

But you're getting a little too loud. The door rattles on its hinges every time your palm slaps into your heat, and your hand isn't nearly enough to mask your increasing volume the closer you get. Maybe you'll get lucky and he won't hear a thing. Or maybe you'll get really lucky and he'll hear everything.

You're too far gone to care. Just a little more. You can feel yourself starting to squeeze your fingers, and you just need a little bit more—

Then, there's a knock at the door and Joel's voice tentatively filters through.

"Everythin' alright in there?" he asks kindly, but he sounds wrecked.

It's obvious he heard everything, and yet he's still trying to be polite, desperately clinging to his morals and good, Southern manners. Too bad that turns you on.

Not bothering to respond, you keep going, fixated on how vivid a picture your unstifled moans and reckless actions must be painting. You wouldn't be surprised if it's just your imagination again, but you swear you can hear labored breathing and a litany of muttered curses coming from the other side.

He knocks on the door again, harder this time, and you quickly realize that any patience Joel had left is gone. You've finally pushed him past his limit.

"M'givin' you sixty seconds to get back in that livin' room," he grits out roughly. "You're finishin' out here."

The door shakes as he pushes off of it and stomps away, leaving you in palpable silence.

thanks for reading & stay tuned for part iv!

divider by @saradika-graphics

[strawberryanqel]

| 𝘼 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘽𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜

Summary: As the newest member of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, the reader navigates the complexities of her first case alongside the brilliant and inquisitive Spencer Reid. Over months of working together, their professional relationship blossoms into something more. Pairings include Spencer Reid x Reader.

Number of words: 7k+

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Standing in front of the elevator doors, the reality of starting a new job at the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit was starting to sink in. It was her first day, and she could feel the weight of expectations pressing on her shoulders. The elevator doors dinged open, and she stepped into the bustling office, greeted by the sight of agents busy with paperwork and discussions.

"Welcome to the BAU," a familiar voice said. She turned to see Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, approaching with a welcoming smile. "We're glad to have you on the team."

"Thank you, sir. I'm excited to be here," she replied, trying to keep her nerves in check.

"Let me introduce you to the team," Hotch said, leading her through the office. "This is Derek Morgan, our muscle and field expert."

Derek gave her a friendly nod. "Hey, welcome aboard."

"And this is Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst."

Penelope waved enthusiastically from her desk covered in colorful trinkets. "Hi there! Can't wait to work with you!"

"Emily Prentiss, our seasoned agent," Hotch continued.

Emily Prentiss smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you."

"David Rossi, our senior agent and profiler."

Rossi gave a respectful nod. "Welcome."

"And finally, Dr. Spencer Reid, our resident genius."

Spencer looked up from a stack of files, his curious eyes meeting hers. "Hi, nice to meet you," he said, standing up and extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you too," she replied, shaking his hand. His grip was gentle, and there was an unmistakable warmth in his eyes.

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The first few days were a whirlwind of learning protocols, getting to know the team's dynamics, and familiarizing herself with ongoing cases. Spencer Reid, in particular, seemed to take a keen interest in helping her settle in. He was always around, asking questions about her background, her previous work, and even her hobbies.

"So, what got you interested in criminal psychology?" Spencer asked one afternoon as they were going over case files.

She looked up from the file she was reading, slightly taken aback by his directness. "I guess I've always been fascinated by the human mind and what drives people to commit crimes. And the idea of helping victims and preventing future crimes really appealed to me."

Spencer nodded thoughtfully. "That's a noble reason. We could always use more people who genuinely care about making a difference."

Over the next few months, Spencer's curiosity about her never seemed to wane. He would often sit with her during lunch, asking about her favorite books, movies, and even her thoughts on various psychological theories. It was clear that he enjoyed their conversations, and she found herself looking forward to their interactions as well.

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Their first case together came sooner than expected. A string of murders in a small town required the team's immediate attention, and they were soon on a jet headed to the crime scene. She felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, knowing that this was her chance to prove herself.

As they worked through the case, she was impressed by Spencer's intellect and his ability to connect seemingly unrelated pieces of information. He was like a human encyclopedia, reciting facts and statistics effortlessly. But what impressed her the most was his empathy for the victims and their families.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Spencer found her sitting alone in the hotel's lounge, looking exhausted.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting down next to her. "How are you holding up?"

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's been a tough day. This case... it's just so heartbreaking."

Spencer nodded, his expression understanding. "It never gets easier, but knowing that we're helping to bring justice can be a source of comfort. And remember, you're not alone. We're all in this together."

She smiled, grateful for his words. "Thanks, Spencer. That means a lot."

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As the months went by, their bond grew stronger. They spent countless hours working together, sharing stories, and learning more about each other. Spencer's constant questions, which initially seemed like simple curiosity, began to feel more like genuine interest.

One evening, after a successful case, the team decided to celebrate at a nearby bar. Laughter and chatter filled the air as they relaxed and enjoyed each other's company. Spencer and the reader found themselves sitting together, a comfortable silence between them.

"So, what about you, Spencer? What do you do when you're not solving crimes and quoting encyclopedias?" she asked playfully.

Spencer chuckled. "Well, I enjoy reading, playing chess, and visiting museums. And I have a bit of a magic trick hobby."

"Magic tricks? Really?" she said, intrigued. "You'll have to show me some time."

"Deal," Spencer replied with a smile. "And what about you? What do you like to do in your free time?"

"I love hiking, painting, and trying out new recipes," she said. "It's a nice way to unwind after a long day."

As the night went on, their conversation flowed effortlessly. It was as if they had known each other for years, and the connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment.

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Their friendship continued to deepen, and it became clear to both of them that there was something more than just professional camaraderie. The reader found herself thinking about Spencer more often, and she couldn't deny the butterflies she felt whenever he was around.

One evening, after a particularly challenging case, Spencer invited her to his apartment for dinner. She accepted, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Spencer's apartment was cozy and filled with books, just as she had imagined. The smell of something delicious wafted through the air as he led her to the kitchen.

"I hope you like pasta," Spencer said, looking a bit shy.

"I love pasta," she replied, smiling. "This is really nice of you, Spencer. Thank you."

As they ate, their conversation flowed effortlessly. They talked about their favorite books, shared childhood memories, and even laughed about some of the more humorous moments on the job.

After dinner, they sat on the couch, a comfortable silence between them. Spencer seemed to be deep in thought, and she wondered what was on his mind.

"There's something I need to tell you," Spencer said finally, his voice hesitant.

She turned to him, her heart pounding. "What is it?"

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you these past few months. You're an amazing person, and I... I think I have feelings for you."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a rush of emotions. "Spencer, I... I feel the same way."

A relieved smile spread across his face, and he reached out to take her hand. "Really?"

"Really," she replied, squeezing his hand gently. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while now, but I was scared."

Spencer's eyes softened, and he leaned in closer. "You don't have to be scared. We'll figure this out together."

As their lips met in a tender kiss, it felt like everything had fallen into place. They had found something special, and they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

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I hope you guys liked this one! Feel free to send me requests in my inbox and i'll get to that pretty quick since I'm free! i do fics, headcanons, blurbs, drabbles, series, anything really! Just ask away! i write for Percy Jackson, Marvel, Harry Potter, Criminal Minds, and a bunch on other fandoms! Just send me a request!

[latenightreadingpdf]

Between the Pages - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: In the university library, shy PhD student Spencer Reid has an unexpected encounter with Y/N, a popular classmate. Despite their differences, a shared interest in neuroscience sparks a captivating conversation, leading them from strangers to friends (and possibly more…).

The university library was always a sanctuary for Spencer Reid, a place where the overwhelming noise of the world faded to a hushed whisper, allowing him to lose himself among the stacks of books and journals. As a child prodigy , he was no stranger to the pressures of academia, often engrossed in his research and studies. With his signature mop of messy hair and glasses perched precariously on his nose, Spencer was the epitome of the dedicated scholar.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when the serenity of his beloved library was disrupted. The usual ambient noise was replaced by a slightly louder, distinctly feminine laughter that seemed out of place amidst the studious atmosphere.

Curiosity piqued, Spencer looked up from his book and noticed a group of students huddled together a few tables away. Among them was Y/N, a classmate whose name Spencer had often heard whispered in hushed, admiring tones around the campus corridors. She was effortlessly charming, her charisma drawing people in like moths to a flame. Spencer had never spoken to her before; he doubted she even knew he existed.

Returning his attention to his work, Spencer tried to drown out the unfamiliar noise. Yet, despite his best efforts, his mind kept wandering, intrigued by the unfamiliarity of Y/N’s presence in the usually quiet library. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself discreetly observing her from behind the pages of his book.

He was mesmerized by the way she interacted with her friends, her laughter infectious and her smile radiant. Despite being surrounded by people, she seemed completely at ease, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone around her. It was a stark contrast to Spencer's own introverted nature, his shyness often making social interactions a daunting prospect.

Lost in his thoughts, Spencer failed to notice when Y/N's gaze wandered in his direction. When he finally looked up, he found himself locked in a pair of curious eyes. Flushing slightly, he quickly averted his gaze, his heart pounding in his chest.

A few minutes passed in awkward silence before a soft voice broke the stillness. "Hey, you're Spencer, right? We're in Dr. Harrison's seminar together."

Startled, Spencer looked up to find Y/N standing in front of him, her smile warm and inviting. "Um, yes, that's me," he stammered, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... uh, I mean, hi."

Y/N chuckled softly, her laughter putting Spencer at ease. "No need to apologize. I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all by yourself. Mind if I join you?"

Swallowing nervously, Spencer nodded, gesturing to the empty seat opposite him. "Of course, please, have a seat."

As Y/N settled herself across from him, Spencer couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He had never been this close to her before, and the proximity only heightened his awareness of her presence. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume, a delicate floral fragrance that was both intoxicating and comforting.

"Working on your thesis?" Y/N asked, nodding towards the screen of his laptop.

"Yes, I'm researching the neurobiological basis of memory retrieval," Spencer replied, his passion for his work shining through despite his nervousness.

"That sounds fascinating," Y/N said sincerely, her interest genuine. "I'm majoring in psychology, but I have to admit, neuroscience has always been a bit daunting for me."

Spencer's eyes lit up at her words, his confidence growing. "Well, if you ever need any help or want to learn more, I'd be happy to explain it to you."

Y/N smiled appreciatively, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I might just take you up on that offer."

As the afternoon went on, the initial awkwardness between them melted away, replaced by a comfortable closeness. They discussed everything from their shared academic interests to their favorite books and movies, discovering unexpected common ground along the way.

By the time the library began to empty, the two of them were so engrossed in conversation that they hardly noticed the passing time. As they gathered their belongings, Y/N turned to Spencer with a smile.

"Thanks for today, Spencer. I had a great time getting to know you."

Spencer's heart soared at her words, a warm glow spreading through him. "The pleasure was all mine," he replied, his shyness momentarily forgotten.

As they walked out of the library together, Spencer couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of connection with Y/N. Though they had started the day as strangers, their chance meeting in the library had blossomed into the beginnings of a friendship - and perhaps, just maybe, something more.

[nickeverdeen]

The Ballad of Snakes and Songbirds characters meeting your parents for the first time

Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus would be incredibly polite and calculated, ensuring that every word and gesture is perfect

He’d give a very formal introduction, shaking hands with your parents and addressing them by their full names

Coriolanus would compliment your parents on their home or anything he notices, attempting to win them over with charm

He’d listen intently to anything your parents say, nodding thoughtfully and engaging in polite conversation

Although he’s charming, Coriolanus would subtly probe to understand your parents’ views and values

He might bring a small, tasteful gift for your parents as a token of respect

Coriolanus would maintain strong eye contact, trying to project sincerity and confidence

He would be subtly protective of you, ensuring the interaction reflects well on you

Despite his calm demeanor, Coriolanus might be internally nervous, knowing how crucial this meeting could be for your relationship

He’d likely err on the side of being overly polite, not wanting to make any mistakes

He might use some dry, witty humor to break the ice, but nothing too risky

Coriolanus would show a strong respect for your parents, likely due to his own upbringing and understanding of hierarchy

He might subtly flatter your parents, but in a way that seems genuine and not overdone

Throughout the interaction, Coriolanus would exude a quiet, confident energy

After the meeting, Coriolanus would likely ask for your thoughts on how it went and if there’s anything he should have done differently

Lucy Gray Baird

Lucy Gray would greet your parents warmly, perhaps with a hug or a friendly handshake

She’d be open and friendly, quickly engaging your parents in conversation

If she senses your parents enjoy music, Lucy Gray might even hum a tune or mention a song she likes

She’d keep the conversation light and casual, aiming to make your parents feel comfortable around her

Lucy Gray would offer genuine compliments, possibly about your parents’ style or home

She’d use her sense of humor to break the ice, making a joke or telling a funny story

Her eyes would reflect kindness and sincerity, putting your parents at ease

Lucy Gray might tell a captivating story from her past, drawing your parents in with her charm

She’d show respect to your parents, addressing them politely and listening attentively

Lucy Gray would be down-to-earth, not trying to impress, but simply being herself

She might bring a small, personal gift, like something she made or found that has meaning

Despite her confidence, Lucy Gray might be a little nervous, wanting your parents to like her

If your parents enjoy nature, Lucy Gray would connect with them over that, perhaps talking about plants or animals

She’d keep your parents engaged in conversation, asking them about their lives and interests

Overall, Lucy Gray would bring positive energy to the meeting, leaving your parents with a good impression of her

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

Dr. Gaul would enter the room with an intense presence, her eyes sharp and observant

She’d likely steer the conversation toward intellectual topics, perhaps asking your parents’ opinions on complex matters

Dr. Gaul might come across as slightly detached, not overly interested in small talk

She’d observe your parents closely, analyzing their reactions and responses

Her tone would be formal, not overly warm, but respectful

Dr. Gaul might ask challenging or probing questions, testing the waters with your parents

If she’s impressed, she might compliment your parents on their intelligence or insights

She could use some dry, almost clinical humor, which might go over your parents’ heads or make them uneasy

Dr. Gaul might let a few unnerving silences linger, watching how your parents handle them

She wouldn’t engage in flattery or small talk, focusing instead on the substance of the conversation

Her curiosity might come across as slightly unsettling, as she’d be genuinely interested in what makes your parents tick

Dr. Gaul would be aware of the power dynamics in the room and subtly maintain control of the conversation

Your parents might find her a bit eccentric, with her unique mannerisms and way of speaking

She’d maintain a respectful distance, not getting too personal or emotional

By the end of the meeting, Dr. Gaul would likely have established a subtle dominance in the conversation, leaving your parents a bit unsure of how to feel about her

Sejanus Plinth

Sejanus would be a bit nervous at first, stumbling slightly over his words in the introduction

He’d be incredibly polite and respectful, clearly wanting to make a good impression

Sejanus would offer a warm smile, trying to put everyone at ease despite his nerves

He’d compliment your parents sincerely, perhaps on their home or something they’ve accomplished

Sejanus would ask your parents questions about themselves, genuinely interested in getting to know them

He might show a bit of vulnerability, admitting that he’s a bit nervous or new to this

Sejanus would express gratitude for being welcomed into your parents’ home or life

He’d speak highly of you, telling your parents how much you mean to him

His voice would be soft and gentle, not wanting to come across as too forward

Sejanus might use gentle, self-deprecating humor to break the ice

He’d respect your parents’ boundaries, not pushing too hard to win them over

Sejanus would show genuine interest in your parents’ lives, asking thoughtful questions

He’d be open-hearted and honest, not trying to hide who he is

Throughout the meeting, Sejanus would give you affectionate glances, showing his love for you

Once it’s over, Sejanus might express relief, asking you how he did and if your parents liked him

Tigris Snow

Tigris would greet your parents warmly, with grace and elegance, making them feel immediately comfortable

She’d compliment your parents on their home or appearance, with genuine kindness

Tigris would engage your parents in light, pleasant conversation, perhaps about fashion or art

She’d listen attentively to your parents, making them feel heard and appreciated

Tigris would be friendly and approachable, putting your parents at ease

She’d show empathy, especially if your parents talk about anything personal or difficult

Tigris wouldn’t boast about herself, instead focusing on making your parents feel important

She might use gentle humor to keep the conversation light and enjoyable

Tigris would be very polite and respectful, ensuring she makes a good impression

She’d ask thoughtful questions, showing interest in your parents’ lives and opinions

There would be a nurturing vibe to her interaction, as if she’s already part of the family

Tigris would express appreciation for being invited to meet your parents, making them feel valued

She’d show genuine interest in getting to know your parents, perhaps asking about family traditions

Tigris would show subtle affection towards you, making it clear how much she cares without being over the top

When leaving, Tigris would offer sincere parting words, thanking your parents for their time and hospitality

Coral

Coral would greet your parents with caution, still getting used to being around new people

She’d maintain a respectful distance, not wanting to overstep or make anyone uncomfortable

Coral might keep the conversation brief, focusing on polite, simple exchanges

She’d be polite but reserved, not revealing too much about herself

Coral would be very observant, watching your parents closely to gauge their reactions and feelings

Her communication would be straightforward, without much embellishment or small talk

Coral would speak in a respectful tone, making sure she doesn’t offend or upset anyone

She might not use much humor, keeping the interaction serious and focused

Coral would set clear boundaries, not getting too personal too quickly

Despite her reserved nature, she’d carry herself with quiet confidence

Coral might feel a bit nervous internally, but she’d try not to show it

She’d be honest in her responses, not feeling the need to impress but also not wanting to disappoint

Coral might show subtle appreciation for your parents’ hospitality, perhaps with a small gesture or comment

If your parents bring up family traditions, Coral would show respect and interest, even if she’s unfamiliar with them

After the meeting, Coral might feel relieved, glad that it went smoothly without any issue

Treech

Treech would greet your parents with a guarded, cautious demeanor, not fully trusting the situation

He’d keep the conversation brief and polite, not offering much about himself

Treech would be very wary, observing your parents closely to understand their intentions

He might not engage much in conversation, letting you take the lead

Treech might come across as slightly defensive, especially if he feels judged or misunderstood

When he does speak, it would be direct and to the point, without much elaboration

He’d be polite, but it might seem reluctant, as if he’s unsure how to navigate the social norms

Treech would exude a quiet strength, making it clear that he’s not someone to be underestimated

He might not use humor, keeping the interaction serious and straightforward

Despite his guarded nature, Treech would show respect for your parents, understanding the importance of the meeting

He’d set clear boundaries, making sure the conversation doesn’t get too personal too quickly

Treech might feel slightly uneasy, not used to these kinds of social situations

He’d be protective of you, especially if he senses any tension or discomfort from your parents

Treech would be honest in his responses, not trying to impress but also not wanting to offend

After the meeting, Treech would likely feel relieved that it’s over, hoping he didn’t make a bad impression

Festus Creed

Festus would greet your parents confidently, with a firm handshake and a smile

He’d turn on the charm, using his natural charisma to win your parents over

Festus would use light humor to break the ice, making your parents laugh and feel at ease

He’d engage your parents in conversation, asking questions and showing genuine interest in their lives

Festus might flatter your parents a bit, complimenting their home, their style, or their accomplishments

He’d be warm and friendly, making your parents feel comfortable around him

Festus would be a smooth talker, guiding the conversation with ease and keeping it light and enjoyable

He’d give you affectionate glances throughout the meeting, showing how much he cares about you

Despite his confidence, Festus would be respectful, making sure not to overstep any boundaries

His quick wit would come out in the conversation, impressing your parents with his intelligence and humor

Festus would be sociable, easily adapting to your parents’ personalities and making them feel at ease

He’d likely compliment you in front of your parents, hoping to make them feel proud of you

Festus would make sure everyone is involved in the conversation, not leaving anyone out

He’d show genuine interest in your parents’ lives, asking thoughtful questions and listening to their stories

Overall, Festus would bring positive energy to the meeting, leaving your parents with a great impression of him

[kenzirr]

The BAU team sat in their usual spot at the local coffee shop, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of soft chatter filled the air. Spencer Reid sipped his coffee, his mind briefly at ease from the complexities of their latest case.

"Man, it's good to have a break," Morgan said, leaning back in his chair. "These last few weeks have been non-stop."

"Tell me about it," JJ replied, stirring her latte. "I can't remember the last time I slept for more than four hours."

"Well, at least we caught the guy," Rossi added, taking a sip of his espresso. "Sometimes it's nice to just enjoy the little things."

Spencer nodded, glancing at his friends. "You know, there's a study that shows taking short breaks can actually improve productivity. It helps to reset the brain and reduce stress."

Garcia chuckled. "Leave it to Reid to turn our coffee break into a lecture."

Spencer smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I just find it interesting."

"Don't apologize, genius," Morgan said, patting Spencer on the back. "We love your brainy insights."

Hotch, who had been quietly sipping his coffee, joined in. "It's true, though. These moments are important. They keep us grounded."

Spencer nodded. "It's fascinating how social interactions can affect mental health. Even brief conversations can boost mood and improve cognitive function."

JJ laughed. "Always the scientist, Spencer."

Just then, the door to the coffee shop opened, and in walked Y/N. She scanned the room, her eyes quickly landing on the BAU team. She had heard about the legendary team and their brilliant, yet socially awkward genius, Dr. Spencer Reid. With a confident smile, she approached their table.

"Hey there," she said, her eyes locking onto Spencer's. "Mind if I join you?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not at all. I'm Morgan, and you are?"

"YN," she replied, taking a seat right next to Spencer. "And you must be Dr. Reid."

Spencer looked up, startled. "Uh, yes. Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Y/N."

Y/N leaned in a bit closer, her smile dazzling. "I've heard a lot about you, Dr. Reid. Your work is really impressive."

Spencer blushed, glancing nervously at his teammates. "Thank you. It's... it's just part of the job, really."

Morgan chuckled. "Don't let him fool you, Y/N. Spencer here is a genius. He can read 20,000 words per minute and has an IQ of 187."

"Really?" Y/N's eyes widened in genuine admiration. "That's incredible. You must be a walking encyclopedia."

Spencer chuckled nervously. "I guess you could say that."

Y/N's smile widened. "Well, I'm impressed. So, Spencer, how about you and I grab a coffee sometime? I'd love to get to know you better."

Spencer's face turned a deeper shade of red. "Um, sure. That sounds nice."

The team exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying Spencer's flustered state.

"Great," Y/N said, jotting down her number on a napkin and handing it to Spencer. "Call me."

Spencer nodded, taking the napkin. "I will."

As Y/N walked away, the team burst into laughter.

"Looks like Reid's got a date," Morgan teased.

Spencer smiled, his heart racing. For once, he didn't mind being the center of attention.

---

A few days later, Spencer nervously adjusted his tie in the mirror. He had agreed to meet Y/N at a local bar for their date, and his stomach was doing flips. Arriving at the bar, he spotted Y/N immediately. She looked stunning, her smile lighting up the room.

"Hi, Spencer," she greeted, giving him a warm hug.

"Hi, Y/N. You look amazing."

"Thank you. Shall we get a drink?"

They found a cozy corner and ordered their drinks, settling into a comfortable conversation. They talked about everything from Spencer's work with the BAU to Y/N's interests and hobbies. Spencer found himself relaxing as Y/N shared funny anecdotes and stories about her life.

"So, what made you decide to join the BAU?" Y/N asked, genuinely curious.

Spencer thought for a moment. "I've always been interested in understanding human behavior. Profiling criminals allows me to use that knowledge to help people and solve cases. Plus, the team is like a second family to me."

Y/N smiled. "That's really inspiring. It must be challenging."

"It is," Spencer agreed. "But moments like this, getting to know someone new, make it all worthwhile."

As the evening progressed, their initial nerves melted away, replaced by laughter and shared stories. By the time they left the bar, they were holding hands, their connection undeniable.

At Spencer's apartment, things quickly escalated. They couldn't keep their hands off each other, the chemistry between them sparking a passionate encounter.

[mothhball]

Prologue

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary Your mentor is unhappy with your career choices. But her worries only serve to make you more curious.

warnings none! this is just a little prologue

notes a little intro to kick things off. I'll shortly post the first chapter as well haha Also, Potomac is just a name I borrowed from the DC universe. I know it's different in the comics, so don't shoot me please <3

! MINORS DNI !

story masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 1.1k

“Look… I just don’t get why you wouldn’t want to go back to Potomac. From what I’ve read in your sophomore internship review, Dr. Rabin was genuinely impressed with you and said he’d be excited to have you back for the Senior internship. What happened? I – I would’ve understood anything, really. But Arkham? You really applied there?”

Professor Campbell’s office is a time capsule. A familiar, cozy environment that you’ve been inhabiting for a whole hour per week since the start of the last semester. Decorated with undemanding potted plants and cheesy motivational posters on the walls around you. The smell of paper and hibiscus hangs in the dry air, warmed up to an almost uncomfortable temperature by the ever-running radiator mounted to the wall. Usually, your presence in this room is accompanied by a sense of inner peace. One hour per week during which you’re allowed to fantasize about a glowing future as you sit in front of your academic mentor. But today, the tiny woman with the prominent smile lines is looking at you with thinly-veiled indignation. It’s an ugly expression on her, you decide. People like Campbell are better off smiling and laughing, like the human embodiment of a Golden Retriever.

You shift in your seat, resisting the urge to gesture with your hands to avoid seeming defensive. No, you keep your posture open and inviting on purpose. The body language of a genuine person.

“Potomac Psychiatric Hospital is just not what I want,” you start, speaking gently in an effort to make her emphasize with you. “I need a challenge. I don’t want to hang around rich people with mild cases of burnout all the time.”

Professor Campbell’s face scrunches up with mild displeasure, and you feel the need to quickly correct yourself.

“No offense, of course. But my main interest does lie in… the tough cases. And there are tough cases at Potomac. Jeremiah Arkham himself called his asylum the ‘Ivy League of insanity’. And Dr. Crane used to be a professor here. You knew him, right?”

Campbell flinches, and you could swear you were able to see an expression of genuine fear in her eyes for a fraction of a second. And for that fraction of a second, you were speaking to a prey animal instead of your favorite psychology professor.

“Well… Professor Crane – Doctor Crane was a… well-known member of the faculty. By which I mean everyone knew of him and the kind of seminars he held. Nobody really knew anything about the man aside from his special interest in fear-based disorders and most likely crippling caffeine addiction. Back when I knew him, he was… eccentric to say the least. But he knew what he was teaching about. Students fled his lecture hall as soon as he was done speaking, but he really was a brilliant mind. He was a professor for a reason, after all.”

You nod along to her words, unable to stop that little spark of personal curiosity from growing and festering within you. If everything goes well, you’d be able to witness firsthand how peculiar this man is for the entire summer. Much to her dismay, Campbell’s tales only serve to encourage your decision.

“So, if the two of you knew each other, there’s already a networking opportunity here,” you conclude, folding your hands in your lap.

“Yes but –“

“Also, Arkham is right here in Gotham. I don’t have to rent a new apartment anywhere else, I already know the city, and so on and so forth.” You feel a little bad for cutting her off, but it’s almost ridiculous how much she’s trying to dissuade you from your plans. Campbell doesn’t bother to hide her displeasure anymore, letting out a sigh as she taps a manicured nail against the porcelain of her teacup.

“Listen,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “we’ve had many students apply to Arkham Asylum for an internship over the years. And those whose spirits didn’t get crushed during the interview were worn down by the work itself. Besides, the influx of applications is monumental. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even get invited to the interview. In my humble opinion, you should write Potomac an email and – “

“I already got invited.” Campbell’s eyes widen, and the silence prompts you to continue. It’s a little difficult to not seem smug as you speak, but you manage. “The interview is this Friday.”

“Friday…” Campbell reaches out for her cup of tea, trying to wash away the bitter taste on her tongue with a mouthful of hibiscus and apple. In that moment, you feel a little bad for the professor. She’s always tried to make time for you and dutifully offered help wherever she could. And in return, you’re acting childish, trying to incite a one-sided contest over an internship. You let out a sigh along with her, shifting in your seat; softening up.

“This is… something that’s really important to me,” you offer, trying to apologize without saying it. “Potomac was a huge help for getting into the swing of things. I… learned a lot about the basics. And for anyone else, that hospital is the perfect match. But I don’t want to graduate, secretly doubting whether I’ll ever be ready for the real work. I know Arkham is a baptism by fire. But it’s what I need.”

Campbell hums in response, stirring a third sugar cube into her tea. It’s just a habit to keep her hands busy at this point. You’re pretty sure the crystals don’t even dissolve anymore.

“Besides,” you continue, smiling at her because you know this will give her at least a shred of hope, “even though I got through to the interview, I might not even get an internship spot. So… this entire conversation might be redundant anyway.”

This gets you the response you were hoping for, and the professor nods thoughtfully as the smile you’re used to returns to her face. She sounds relieved when she answers you.

“If that should happen, I’m sure you could still send an application to Dr. Rabin and he’ll have you on his team in no time at all. Oh, why am I even worrying? You’ll figure it out.”

You nod, feeling in real time how your smile relaxes into something more genuine. Suddenly, the warmth in the room doesn’t feel oppressive anymore. As the mood switches to something more cheerful, the two of you talk some more about your final thesis before you decide to end the conversation on a good note. Campbell rises from her seat along with you, and you mirror her smile, relieved to finally be done with this interrogation. Your mentor heads to the door after you, gently patting your shoulder.

“Let me walk with you. At least until the staff lounge. I need a fresh cup of tea.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @ribbonystar @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @seaamonster

@rosiemarieyn @sagepixieswrld

[teag-writes]

Teachers Pet

guess who's back!! me!! yay!! umm another request from my pookie bear @etherealhozier so thank her for this one! (also apologies for the unoriginal ass title, i couldnt think of anything else so yeah!!)

cw: age gap (20 sumthing years idk i cant do math!), pet names, thigh riding, cumming on leg (yum), i think thats it!!

You knew from a small age you wanted to catch “bad guys” for a living. Which is why immediately after you graduated high school, you had already enrolled in one of the criminal behavioural classes at the college you attended, as one of your main classes.  

After about a month of being at your university, you had settled in quite nicely as you got to know all of your teachers and other classmates. Now the love for criminal activity and all things crime being the main reason you were attending college, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let anything get in your way. 

Until you saw him. Dr. Reid, or more formally known as the FBI agent turned professor, was the one who taught you and everyone else all about the interesting subject. He was tall, slender and had dark hair, and even darker eyes like he was hiding something. The way he talked so passionately about his life in the BAU made your stomach swirl. 

You knew this was completely wrong, having a crush on a man who was at least in his mid 40s, while you were in your early 20s. It almost disgusted you, the things you thought of letting him do to you, bending you over and smack-

“(Y/n). Are you paying attention?” A stern but quiet voice interrupted your daydreams as you looked at the man in front of you. 

“Yes sir. Sorry.” You said embarrassed. If he could read minds, you’d sure as hell be in a lot of trouble. 

He pursed his lips at you, forming a smile and giving you a nod and continued teaching. You groaned quietly, knowing this would be a long semester. 

—————————

After class, you’d packed your things up and were about to head off to your dorm for study time, when you were halted by a call of your name. 

“(Y/n). Can I speak to you for a moment?” Your professor had caught you red handed and you knew you were done for as you walked over to his desk, after he shut the door. 

“Your attention span has been decreasing lately. Is everything at home okay? Anyone bothering you?” He seemed genuinely concerned for you as he asked you. 

“No sir. Everything’s fine. I’m just… it’s hard to pay attention in class.” Your tone slipped out more seductive than it should’ve and you knew damn well what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t care less. Spencer swallowed harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as you spoke to him. 

“Oh? Why’s that (y/n)? I’m not boring you, am I?” He said with a raspy laugh that made your stomach flip. 

“No, not at all sir. If anything,” you said looking him up and down. “It’s quite the opposite.” 

You were so nervous with what you were doing right now that you felt like throwing up. You took a step closer to the man in front of you and looked at him. 

“No. Stop.” He whispered out. “This is utterly inappropriate and so, so wrong.” He stopped you in your tracks and you started at him with embarrassment and guilt. 

“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna go.” You quickly grabbed your things and rushed out the door, Spencer yelling after you but you didn’t turn back. 

That night in your dorm, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened as you got so frustrated with yourself. But within a few seconds, an idea popped into your head. If he really wanted you, you’d have to make him show you. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

—————————

The next day for class, you’d almost forgotten about what had happened when you remembered your plan. Make him want you. You thought to yourself if this was really what you wanted to do, yet you went through with the plan. You jumped out of your current skirt and replaced it with another, shorter, smaller one as you did the same with your shirt. You popped open the first few buttons and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders, and decided to go with a dark red lipstick, with well as a pair of heels as you walked to class. 

Everyone had their eyes on you. Teachers, students, hell, everyone was gawking at you in awe. Whispers of shock fled peoples mouths as you walked into class and took a seat. You sat front row, as you always do, and waited for class to begin. The moment Spencer walked in, you stopped breathing, remembering that this was all for him. 

“Good morning class…” Spencer trailed off of his sentence as he saw you, and let out a choked cough.  “Pardon me, I must’ve had something in my throat. Please take out your notebooks, we will be talking notes today.” The whole entire time Spencer was speaking, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. And that continued throughout the whole lesson. 

By the time class was done, everyone had made their way out as you remained last again, trying to pack up quickly when an angry seeming voice halted you once again. 

“(Y/n). We need to talk.” Spencer didn’t seem impressed at all, but that only filled you with more lust. You gave him a warm, innocent smile and sat back down as he closed his door again. 

“Is something wrong, Dr?” You batted your eyelashes at Spencer and you hated every second of it, but you needed him. 

“Don’t call me that.” He had a furious look on his face, as he stepped closer towards you. “What’s going on with you today? The makeup and clothes, I mean.” 

You playfully spoke back to him as he asked you a question. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He groaned as you spoke to him, tipping his head back slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). You know what you’re doing.” 

He lunged forward to you and grabbed your wrist, hard but not too hard. 

“Is it working, Dr?” You purred back at him, and that only made things worse as he gently put his hand around your neck. 

“Yes. Yes it is, (y/n). Your little “whore” getup makes me sick. God, you don’t know what you do to me.” He said growling back at you. As he continued his grip on your neck, another hand made its way down to your legs and stopped at your heat. 

“Fucking soaked. Bet you’ve thought about this hm? Me pinning you against this wall and fucking you raw?” 

You moaned at his harsh, lustful words as he continued circling your clit through your panties. His grip tightened when you didn’t answer, making you squeal loudly. 

“Answer me. Have you thought about this, (y/n)? 

“Yes.” Was all you managed to breathe out. 

“Atta girl.” He praised you as he let go of your neck, sitting back down his desk chair. You stared at him with confusion, not knowing what to do. 

“C’mere.” He patted his thigh and motioned you to come sit on his lap. You immediately complied, straddling yourself right over his bulge, making you gasp. 

“If you want this so bad, you’ll get off on my thigh while I grade these papers.” He cooed gently at you, moving the hair out of your face. The angry man that was there seconds ago, was now gone. You whimpered at his command, as you knew you were going to have to work for it. 

“I know baby, I know. You’ll be okay.” He praised softly, as he leaned in for a kiss. You let his tongue swipe yours, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. He pulled apart from the kiss and you groaned at the loss of contact. 

“I know you wanted me to fuck you, but there’s consequences when you come into my office dressed like that. I’m being nice and at least letting you get off, hm? Such a good girl.” 

You couldn’t even be mad at him, his sweet tone had taken complete control over you. You started moving your hips against his leg, slowly and painfully, eliciting a moan from your lips that only made him twitch under you. You slowly started to speed up your movements, already feeling your muscles spasm over his cock. His hands made their way from the papers on his desk to your hips, moving them expertly against his leg. He saw that you were getting tired, so he naturally bucked his leg repeatedly into your wet cunt. 

The familiar coil in your stomach began to break apart and you came tortuously hard on his leg with a loud moan, not caring if anyone heard. He bucked his leg into you again, riding you through your orgasm as you let out sweet little whimpers. 

“Shh shh, I’ve got you baby. It’s okay. Good girl.” All the little praises he mumbled to you made you needy enough to come again, but you couldn’t. Instead, you sit there with your head on his shoulder, all fucked out because of him. 

[nyrobnua8983]

An unexpected kiss [1/3]

gender neutral reader

Dr. Bright

You were sitting in the laboratory, absorbed in yet another experiment, when Dr. Bright entered the room without knocking. His energetic appearance and irrepressible smile always signaled that something unexpected was about to happen.

–How’s it going?-he cheerfully asked, coming closer. Your gaze met his, and you noticed the playful spark in his eyes. It was one of those moments when you knew something interesting was on the horizon. Before you could even blink, Bright was already by your side. He hugged you with one arm, seemingly casually, but in that casualness was all his usual cheerfulness. With his other hand, he gently touched the back of your neck, drawing you closer and pulling your attention away from the experiment.His lips touched yours in a kiss that was both tender and swift. It was a typical Bright kiss—spontaneous, full of energy, yet caring at the same time. The air was filled with a faint aroma, a blend of his signature scent and something slightly anomalous that always seemed to accompany him. This scent was like a small part of his unusual world. You responded to the kiss, feeling his energy transfer to you, filling you with a warm feeling. In these moments, Bright seemed to forget his reputation and left only sincerity and emotion. He allowed himself to be vulnerable, showing you a side of himself that few had the chance to see. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to create the sensation that everything around had stopped. When Bright pulled away, his smile was wide and genuine, and he seemed pleased to have made your day a little brighter.

–Remember, life is too short not to enjoy moments like these. he said, looking at you with warmth.

–Let’s make as many of them as possible.

You nodded, realizing that with him, every moment would be special, full of surprises and joy.

Dr. Alto Clef

The evening hours in the laboratory were quiet, with only the light from the desk lamp softly illuminating the workspace. Dr. Clef was immersed in his research, but you noticed that his gaze occasionally lingered on you, full of contemplation.You sat nearby, flipping through documents and trying not to disrupt his concentration. The evening seemed to promise nothing unusual, but there was an elusive tension in the air.Suddenly, Clef stood up, walked over to you, and stood directly in front of you. His eyes were focused and serious as usual, but today there was a special depth of emotion in them. He sighed softly and extended his hand, gently touching your face. His touch was light, almost imperceptible, but it carried the weight of his emotions.Clef did not rush. He pressed his lips to yours; his kiss was slow and cautious, as if every movement required careful consideration. His lips were cool and firm, just like him, but in that touch, there was a profound passion and struggle he struggled to conceal.He lingered over your lips before allowing himself this act of intimacy. Each kiss was filled with an inner conflict he was trying to control. It wasn’t just an expression of feelings but an entire world of emotions where he tried to balance his restraint with his desire to be closer.When the kiss ended, he pulled away a few centimeters. His gaze was still focused, but there was a noticeable new softness in his eyes.

–Sorry if that was unexpected

he said quietly, as if trying to justify his display of affection.You simply smiled, understanding that the kiss contained everything he couldn’t express in words.

–Don’t apologize- you replied.–It was important. And I appreciate it.

Clef nodded, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his face, which seemed to be just for you. He returned to his work, but the room retained a new, warm atmosphere, a reminder that even the most reserved individuals could reveal their inner depth when they trust someone.

Simon Glass

You were sitting in your chair by the window, the dim evening light gently coloring the room. Simon, still lost in his thoughts, quietly entered and approached you. His steps were light, as if he was trying not to disturb the silence that hung between you.When he sat down beside you, his gaze was focused and attentive. He was silent, simply observing you, and this silence was filled with emotions that were hard to express in words. Then, softly and carefully, he touched your hand, his fingers warm and gentle.Glass slowly turned to you, his eyes meeting yours, and in them was a whole range of feelings. He carefully traced his finger along your face, his touch light as a feather. At that moment, he seemed to be preparing to do something important and delicate.When his lips touched yours, it was like a soft breeze brushing against your face. Glass's kiss was slow and deliberate, filled with tenderness and attentiveness. He tried to be as gentle as possible, as if afraid of breaking something fragile and precious. His touches were filled with care, every phrase and every movement precisely measured.You felt his kisses conveying his deep affection and respect for your personal space. He did not rush, and there was something soothing in that. This moment was filled with emotions that Glass could not always express in words, but through his gentle, thoughtful touches, he did so with complete sincerity.When he pulled away, his eyes still held a warm light.

–I hope this expresses what I can’t say in words

his voice quiet and soft.You responded with a tender smile, knowing that his kisses conveyed much more than just physical touch. It was Glass's way of showing his deep feelings and respect without intruding on your inner world, and that was what made his kisses truly special.

[wileycap]

Reasons to really like Benoit Blanc:

The scene where Helen talks to him for the first time.

He is just entirely warm to this stranger. When Helen starts reminiscing about her late sister, he listens for a good while, and then gently but directly asks her what he can do for her.

When Helen terms Duke, Lionel, Birdie and Claire the Shitheads, he immediately adopts the term and uses it.

He listens to Helen. Actively and compassionately. Later on, he calls back to the "rich bitch voice". In every way, the writing shows us that he genuinely cares and is Interested in the world around him and the people in it, rather than being disinterested and disaffected by a world that he views as beneath him.

It's just such a refreshing showcase of emotional intelligence. If we contrasted this with, say, BBC Sherlock, that stuck up mothercunt would have been twiddling his thumbs and nodding along until he and He Alone would have had his big revelation, at which point the plot would have proceeded. (Fine, he was compassionate at times in his own, obnoxiously shitty, way.)

Tl;dr: i lik muvi