#it doesn’t help that i’ve also had a lot of stress at work too

[obitohno]

(quite possibly) going to change my username when i come back from my hiatus >.<

[seventh-district]

.

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[jerryseinfeldisafurry]

I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly

Warning: mouthwashing spoilers

So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”

And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody “supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.

When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.

Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.

Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.

When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.

Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.

Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.

My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation

[harksness]

A/N: i was so feral over detective harkness i wrote a quick lil smut fic (thanx to the rings anon who gave me an idea for this lol <3)

also I KNOW SHES TECHNICALLY AGNES HERE SHHHH JUST GO WITH IT

Warnings: SMUT, oral, Agatha receiving, hair pulling, degradation and praise. Dom! Agatha as per usual. Sub! Reader as per usual.

WC: 2.1k

Carefully, you push the door to Agatha’s office closed behind you and twist the lock. She doesn’t even notice that you entered, hunched over her desk with papers and files sprawled out beneath her, pen clenched in her left hand as she bends over the mess. Strands of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, hanging along the sides of her face.

Once in a while you’ll surprise her at work like this. She’s been so stressed lately that she hasn’t been sleeping through the night. That's not abnormal for your wife, she is a bit of a workaholic afterall, but sometimes she just needs you to drag her back into reality. And that's been hard to do with your conflicting work schedules and her long days lately.

Slowly, so you don't startle her, you walk over to Agatha’s desk. Her eyes glance up to you but don’t seem to process you right away as the flick back down to her work, before landing back on you again. As the realization finally sinks in, a smile grows on her features.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the way she shoots you a wide grin, legs spreading as she leans back in her office chair to look up at you.

“Hey, even hotter stuff.”

She snorts at your flirting, throwing her pen down onto her desk. It makes you feel a little too smug that it's so easy for her to forget her work when you're around.

“You don’t look in the mirror as much as you should. You’re obviously the hotter stuff.”

She argues lightheartedly as you turn and lean against the desk next to her, the plush of your ass digging into the edge of the tabletop as you smile down at her.

“Well I could say the same thing to you.”

Again, she snorts.

“I’ve barely slept the last few days, my eye bags are huge, my hair is a mess and I’ve got stains all down the front of my frumpy flannel. I’m not hot right now.”

Agatha's eyes are tired and her words make your heart ache in your chest. She's always the most beautiful thing in the world, the details don't matter. She's just always stunning.

You lean in towards her and take her face in your hands, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch.

“You’re always hot, baby.. It doesn’t matter the circumstances.”

You coo at her, a little laugh escaping her lips as you lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. You decide to speak up before she can continue arguing you, knowing her stubbornness wouldn't let this go unless you changed the subject.

“You look stressed, my love..”

Agatha groans at your words, frustrated.

“There’s just a lot going on right now.. Yknow?”

You nod your head in understanding. When you married her, you knew this is what you were signing up for. She’s obsessed with her job, gone for long periods of time and unable to take her mind off of her work. And that dedication is something you love about her regardless. You’re okay with being her anchor, tethering her and bringing her back to reality. She always floats back to you when you pull her back down to Earth, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 

You’ll happily keep doing this for the rest of your life.

Leaning down, you press your lips against her cheek in a lingering kiss, lips ghosting against her skin as you speak.

“Why don’t you let me help you take your mind off of things for a bit..”

You whisper against her soft skin, and she lets out an amused noise as you continue to kiss her, your lips moving to trace along her jawline as you guide her head to tilt to the side.

“Baby… Fuck.. We can’t-”

As she says that her hands are reaching for you, grabbing you and pulling you closer. You smile against her skin.

“Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you really want me to..”

She doesn't answer, torn between doing what she wants and the responsible thing.

You pull back, admiring her beautiful, tired features for a moment. She looks up at you with love pooling in her eyes as you trace your thumb affectionately along her cheek, under the deep purple bags creasing under her pretty bright eyes before placing a lingering kiss on her lips.

Then, you quickly glance behind you at the door you locked on the way in, ensuring it’s still secure before you drop to your knees in front of her, right below her desk and between her spread legs. The firm carpet is rough on your knees but you don't care, the woman before you is more important. She groans and lets out a louder curse at the sight of you before her.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this..”

She breathes the words out and you smile up at her, leaning forward and running your hands up her clothed thighs.

“Then let me make your fantasy come true, baby.. Please?”

You beg sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at her. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes flickering greedily over you as she contemplates what to do. 

“Fuck, you’re worth getting fired over.”

You’re grinning ear to ear as you lean forward, running your hands from her knees all the way up her thighs and to the waist of her pants. She watches you with eager eyes, greedy smile etched into her pretty pink lips as she raises her hips off the chair.

Quickly, your hands scramble to undo her pants before grabbing the hem and pulling them down and off her legs, underwear and all, leaving her bare for you as more and more of her soft, pale skin is exposed.

She laughs softly at your eagerness, raising a hand to card sweetly through your locks.

“You begged for this, sweet girl.. Now, you better do a good job if you’re willing to risk my career over it.”

She teases and you lean in, holding her gaze as you press a lingering, open mouth kiss to the inside of her knee. You’re a bit insulted by her words.

“I would never leave you unsatisfied..”

You mumble against her plush skin, taking your time as you softly, firmly press your open mouth against her thigh over and over again as you trail kisses further up her legs.

Here and there you bite softly, dragging your teeth across the sensitive flesh. You feel yourself turning into putty beneath her at every soft gasp that slips past her lips, one of her hands mindlessly toying with your hair.

You start to repeat the actions on her other thigh, wanting to lavish her with sweet kisses and worship her when she lets out a frustrated sigh. Agatha winds her fingers into your hair, slumping down even further and spreading her legs wider as she pushes your mouth against her waiting cunt. You groan, immediately parting your lips as you breathe her in eagerly.

“No teasing, sweetheart… You’re gonna be a good girl and give me exactly what I want, aren’t you?”

She coos down at you, soothingly rubbing her fingers against your scalp. Immediately you let out a needy noise against her and nod your head, desperate to please.

“Good fuckin girl.”

Her voice is low as you drag your tongue through her wet folds. She lets out a controlled, quiet noise, only loud enough for you to hear as you lick up her sweetness. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of her heavy on your tongue.

You begin toying with her clit, first using your tongue to ghost over it in experimental patterns as you try to wind her up. Her chair creaks as she shifts a bit, hand tightening in your hair. 

You can’t get enough of the taste of her. Heavy and metallic and so good, you don't think it could ever be enough. You’d live between her thighs, eating and surviving off of nothing but her pussy for the rest of your life if you could. You make out to kiss the little bud, puckering your lips as you drag them over it before opening your mouth and sucking it between your lips. 

She groans at that, throwing her head back against the back of her seat as you flick your tongue along her clit in quick passes, groaning against her wet cunt as you do. You feel her arousal soaking your lips, and you want to lick up every sweet drop.

“Fuck, baby..”

Agatha curses, heavy breaths dropping from her lips as she looks down at you with lidded eyes. You look back up at her, squirming desperately from your place between her legs.

“You’re such a slut, just for me, hm? So desperate for me to fuck your mouth that you had to crawl under my desk and beg for it, hm?”

Agatha's voice is breathy and erratic as she rests one arm against her chair, canting her hips up against your waiting mouth, her hand buried in your hair and forcing you down and against her with each thrust. You groan against her cunt, breathing heavily as she grinds herself against your tongue. 

You just hold your tongue out for her, letting her guide you however she needs as she fucks herself against your mouth.

“Say it, say you’re my slut with your mouth full of my pussy..”

You groan at her words, nails biting into her calves as you gargle out the words that are muffled by her cunt. She laughs softly, dropping her hips back down onto the chair for a moment and pulling your head back. You heave for air, a stupid smile on your lips as you feel her wetness soaking your lips and chin.

“Say it again.”

Agatha demands, a sadistic grin on her features as she sharply pulls your head back by the fistfull of your hair. You can’t control the moan that bursts past your lips as the delicious sting settles across your scalp.

“I’m your slut, Agatha.. Just yours.. I belong to you..”

You manage to heave the words between breaths and she grins down at you with a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Good girl. Now, get back to work, slut..”

She demands, leaning back into her chair once again and you’re eagerly diving back between her soft thighs, warm and dewey with a thin layer of sweat. Her moans are more frequent now, soft and quiet and deep as they escape her lips. You suck her clit between your teeth gently, flicking your tongue over the nub as quickly as you can.

“Ooooh.. Yes..”

Agatha breathes out, jolting a bit as she raises her hips off of her seat, pressing your needy mouth harder against her wet cunt as she begins to rut against your tongue desperately. You moan into her, meeting each thrust, making sure each movement of your tongue on her clit is calculated and precise.

She gasps sharply, freezing and desperately smushing your face harder against her. You know she’s close, and with that you harshly suck on her clit, hands desperately pawing at her soft thighs as they squeeze around your head, her mouth hung open in a silent moan as she curls in on you, curses dropping from her lips.

Your whole world stops and she’s the only thing that exists as she seizes up, sharp gasps escaping her lips as her eyes pinch shut, body tensing all around you as she cums against your waiting mouth. You watch her with wide eyes, drinking in every little reaction.

A strand of her lovely brown hair sticks to the side of her face, her long, pale neck exposed. You just want to pepper kisses along every inch of her skin. The way her fingers are tightly gripping your hair burns your scalp, but you revel in the sting because it’s just an expression of her pleasure as she cums for you.

With one last relieved gasp her grip on your head loosens and she collapses into her chair, the wheels clanking as she throws her weight back down onto it. She starts breathily laughing, raising one hand to push her stray hairs behind her ears while she rubs soothing circles against your scalp with the other. 

“Ahh.. You’re right.. You never leave me unsatisfied. You’re so good for me, sweet girl..”

She coos, smiling lazily down at you before she leans forward, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You hum happily, a lovesick grin on your lips.

“I’m always happy to be good for you.."

You smile up at her, resting a cheek on her soft, warm thigh. But the sweet moment is short lived, because your features drop and panic sets in when a firm knocking sounds from her office door.

[tlou-reid]

!smut, mdni!

thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.

and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.

so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.

and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case

that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.

time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.

“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.

“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.

he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”

he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.

her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”

her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.

his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.

this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.

her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.

and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.

he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.

[reiding-writing]

hiii, i hope you're well! i saw that you are taking requests for spencer and i really like your angst fics so i was wondering if you could write one with unrequited love?

preferably bau!reader who has feelings for him but he doesn't and she watches him get with someone else and everybody knows how she feels about him but he is oblivious, ending is up to you but i love me a sad ending heheh 😸

transgression [ s.r ]

You’re in love with Spencer Reid. He’s in love with somebody else.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MAEVE ARC, LOTS of misunderstanding, Spencer is kind of a bad friend, lots of arguing, major character death

spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 8.2k || masterlist!!

a/n: sorry for the delay, but i did warn you it was gonna be long so- also i listened to ceilings on repeat whilst writing this so take that as you will 🫶

did i bend the maeve arc to my will for this fic? yes. yes i did.

taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged): @babyspiderling @marsxoxo2 @vytvyvy @hpstuff244444 @frostooo @ohmysw33 @radioactiveinvisible @devilsadvcte @the-local-pendeja @kakashis-formal-simp @robinswrld

You suppose you did it to yourself.

Spencer’s migraines had gotten increasingly worse over the last few months, and after a few consecutive days of hounding him, he’d finally decided to go and see a medical professional about it.

You’d expected him to come back with news about how his brain stem was too active from how hard he was working himself, or that he’d managed to raise his blood pressure to an unhealthy high from all the stress he was under.

Instead he’d told you that they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with him and that he’d been referred to a geneticist to check if the cause of his sudden mind-numbing aching was due to an underlying condition that might have been passed down from his mother.

He’d come back and forth to you for weeks about his phone calls with the doctor.

How she was helping him with his sleep deprivation.

How she was helping to manage his diet.

How she loved classic literature.

How she and him had spent four consecutive hours on the phone debating over the logistics of a novel they both enjoyed.

You could see the change happening before your eyes, and you weren’t the only one either.

“Pretty boy’s chipper this morning,” Morgan joins you at the kitchenette, his eyes following Spencer as he takes a seat at his desk with all of the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy who’d been let off his leash for the first time.

You hum with a nod, focusing your attention on the two cups of coffee you were making, heaping tablespoons of sugar into Spencer’s Doctor Who mug to satisfy his insatiable need for sweetness. “They’re reading a book together,”

“Really?” You respond to Morgan’s raised eyebrow with a short nod and another hum.

“Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton, apparently she finds the religious analysis ‘fascinating’,” You can’t help the small contemptment that seeps into your tone as you reiterate what Spencer had told you to Morgan, and you can practically feel his pitiful gaze as he watches you make your coffee.

“I’ve heard of that book before from somewhere,”

“I tried to get him to read it a few months ago,” You take a sip of your coffee at the end of your sentence, barely able to taste it over the scolding water but not finding the mind to care.

You leave your conversation with Morgan at that, taking the two mugs in your hands and walking back into the bullpen, placing Spencer’s mug in front of him and walking around the cluster of desks to reach your own.

He’s sure he doesn’t need to verbalise it, but Morgan feels increasingly sorry for your situation, noting how you skirt past Spencer’s “thank you” without a response as you bury your head in your files.

he can’t imagine how much the fact that Spencer had seemingly formed a crush on his geneticist ripped you apart.

And the worst part? He’d never met her in person.

All scientific laws of attraction be damned, Spencer Reid had fallen in love with someone he’d never met in the span of three months, and you we’re resigning yourself to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man you had been in love with for six years find the happiness that you longed for with somebody else.

How you managed to keep up your facade you didn’t know.

You’d offered him change for the pay phone he’d call her from when he was running short. You’d let him rant to you about her opinions on a novel that you had failed to get him to read. You made excuses for him to leave the office early so that he could spend his time on the phone with her.

You were the one that sent him to the hospital and caused him to meet her in the first place.

He never hesitated to remind you of that fact, thanking you vicariously every time he relayed his conversations with the doctor back to you.

As the weeks progressed he stopped calling her that. She wasn’t ‘the doctor’ anymore. She was Maeve.

He didn’t call you by your first name and you’d known him for ten times longer that he’d known her. He didn’t even call Morgan by his first name and those two were practically brothers.

And that part was probably what hurt the most.

Maeve.

A name of Irish origin meaning ‘intoxicating’. How fitting.

Apparently the Irish goddess of love and desire was named Maeve. You could see the glimmer in Spencer’s eye that told you his Maeve was just as important as the mythological goddess he was describing.

His Maeve.

“So why haven’t you two actually gone on a date or anything?” You take a sip from the mug in your hands, swivelling your chair back and forth with your foot as a pivot. “You’ve been talking for what, four months now? Surely it’s about time you actually met her in person,”

“It’s complicated,” Spencer sighs as he collects the loose papers he was working on in a pile. He didn’t want to divulge Maeve’s issues without her permission.

“You’ve been saying that for the last six weeks Spencer,” You roll your eyes as you discard your half-empty mug on the table. “If I didn’t know any better i’d say you’re putting it off,”

Spencer shook his head adamantly at your suggestion. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He did want to meet her. Desperately. He’d wanted to meet her since the end of their first phone call. But he also wanted to keep her safe.

How do you meet up with somebody who’s hiding from a stalker without endangering them?

“I do want to meet her. It’s just- she’s dealing with something personal and it’s put a rift our plans, that’s all,”

“So it’s her not wanting to meet up with you then?” You raise an eyebrow at him over your desks.

“Look it’s- You don’t get it okay? It was a mutual understanding from both of us.” You can hear Spencer’s tone become more defensive as you spoke, and you raised both of your hands in surrender.

“Okay, i’m sorry for prying-” You ended your apology with a laugh, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite feeling your heart deflate in your chest at the way the friendliness his his eyes fizzled out the longer you looked at him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer’s late to work this morning.

It’s 8:06 when he finally walks through the glass doors, the coffee you made him stone cold after sitting lamely on his desk for the better part of twenty minutes. He doesn’t so much as offer an apology as he picks up the mug and makes his way over to the kitchenette to pour the coffee down the sink.

You follow behind him in a mix of intrigue and a want to refill your own mug, swilling it out with some water as you watch Spencer load a coffee pod into the machine. “Phone call last longer than you expected?”

“Hm? Oh- yeah, we were discussing the literary analysis of Annabelle Lee,” Spencer’s demeanour seems to brighten immediately once he’s given an opportunity to discuss the details of his phone call with Maeve, although the beginning of his ramble is quickly cut off by the beeping of the coffee machine.

You wait patiently for his coffee to finish before you begin making yours, raising an eyebrow as Spencer pulls out a regular teaspoon instead of the usual tablespoon he’d incorrectly use to load his coffee with sugar.

Your intrigue only heightened when he pulled a carton of milk from the mini-fridge. Not even normal milk. Soy milk.

“Since when do you drink coffee like a normal person?”

His eyes flickered from his mug to your face as he tipped a single teaspoon of sugar into his drink before replacing the bag back where it came from. “It’s a part of my managed diet, Maeve thinks that my increased sugar intake might be one of the risk factors for my headaches,”

“Did she tell you to put soy milk in it too?” You don’t know why you have the urge to be petty, Spencer had long since needed to change his coffee drinking habits for the sake of decreasing his sugar intake and Maeve’s suggestions were beneficial for his health.

It was just the fact that it was her that ticked you off.

“She did actually, it provides the same amount of riboflavin as cow’s milk, which acts as a soothing agent whilst also helping constrict inflamed blood vessels, but without all of the excess fats in regular milk that might make my migraines more frequent, it’s genius really,”

He thought that her ideas were genius. Him. Mr ‘I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187’, thought someone else’s ideas were genius.

You’re sure that he already knew the benefits of milk alternatives, and yet he attributed the ‘revelation’ of what they could do to Maeve. Of course he did.

“When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?” The question comes out much harsher than you intend it to, and you can tell by the way Spencer furrows his eyebrows that he’s taken offence to it.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” No it didn’t. “I’m just a little surprised that someone as independent as you is so… willing to follow blind instructions,” Your attempt at saving yourself half-works, that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears and you can see that the glimmer in his eyes is returning slowly.

“She’s a doctor, of course i’m going to follow her suggestions,”

You give him a soft nod as you pick up your mug from under the coffee machine. “Yeah, no, that makes sense, it’s just a little surprising is all,”

You don’t give him a chance to respond to you before you’re walking away from the kitchenette to retake a seat at your desk, fearing you might say something out of pocket if you continue the conversation any longer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You were really pissed off now.

You’d arrived back in Quantico three days ago, and you were still piled up to your neck in paperwork.

Maybe you would’ve had it finished by now if Spencer would stop talking about the fact that he was “-finally going to meet Maeve in person,”.

You had half the mind to snap and tell him to just shut up, although by the saving grace of Morgan you thankfully didn’t have to.

“Reid, give their poor ears a break man,” Your thankful for Morgan in times like this. He knew you were knee-deep in your feelings for Spencer, and he knew that every time Spencer so much as spoke Maeve’s name it carved another hairline fracture in your heart.

You were close to shattering, and Morgan could tell.

“Oh- right, sorry,” Spencer offered you an awkward smile which you mirrored back at him.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” You shake your head in a polite dismissal of his apology before turning your head back down towards your files.

“I take it you’re nervous then?” Alex’s voice cut through the beginning of an awkward tension between the two of you as she entered to bullpen with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Well- I mean- you know…” Upon being unable to find a sufficient response, Spencer resorts to shrugging into his chair. “I just don’t want to ruin anything,”

“But aren’t you curious what she looks like?” Alex raises an eyebrow with concern like Spencer was he son going on his first ever date.

“it doesn’t matter what she looks like I mean- she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me it’s just-”

You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation.

You sudden upheaval from your desk stops Spencer’s sentence as his eyes follow you across the bullpen and out of the glass doors, followed shortly by Morgan as he jogs after you.

“Hey- Wait up a minute-” Morgan catches your arm before you have a chance to get in the elevator, and as you turn your eyes towards him he can see the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this..”

Morgan can do nothing more than pull your head into his shoulder and wrap his arms tightly around your back with a soft mutter of your name. “I know kid, I know…”

“He thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” You turn your head up from Morgan’s shoulder to meet his eyes, a single stray tear cascading down your cheek, illuminated under the florescent lights. “How am I supposed to compete with that..?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Incidentally, Spencer’s date with Maeve didn’t end up happening. Conflicting work schedules or something, you weren’t really listening.

Maybe all of your subconscious thoughts had leaked into reality and finally gave you momentary release from the crushing defeat of having Spencer go on a date with someone else.

Maybe it was them punishing you further by forcing you to sit through him rant about the book she’d left him at the front of the restaurant.

It didn’t help that you already had a headache that made it feel like your eye sockets were being kicked by an annoying kid sat behind you on an aeroplane, leaving a dull ache in it’s wake and making you just want to bury yourself in a hole and hibernate.

“And right at the back she wrote ’Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another’ it’s a quote from-”

“Thomas Merton. Yeah, I know.” You dig the knuckle of your left thumb into cavity of your eye socket over your closed eyelid, hoping to relieve some of the tension that’s lingering there and disrupting your thoughts.

“Thomas Merton’s ‘Love and Living’ specifically,” If Spencer noticed your discomfort he didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s a collection of his essays on the importance of love to live, so for her to have written it specifically knowing that I would read it means-”

“Reid.”

Your tone stops him from continuing any further, and he blinks at you with that sweet puppy-dog expression that would usually have you weak at the knees.

“No offence, but I don’t care about your over-the-phone girlfriend or the quote that she wrote in your book.” Your tone carried a harshness to it that Spencer wasn’t used to hearing from you. It was cold and detached and not like you at all.

“Are- you okay?”

“No, Reid, I’m not, and if you’d bothered to ask about my life every once in a while instead of using me like a human diary maybe you would’ve realised that already.”

You practically slam your file closed as you speak, pushing your chair out from your desk and leaving him sat in shock at your sudden change in attitude.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

After a bit of introspection, Spencer did realise that he hadn’t been treating you very fairly. He hadn’t asked you how your life had been in 3 months and 26 days. Four of those days he’d spent in damn near radio silence. He wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.

He missed you.

It was a bit ironic considering you sat directly opposite him for almost eight hours a day five days a week, but after you’d snapped at him last week, he truly realised just how much of his day he spent socialising with you, and just how much he missed talking to you.

So he decided that he was going to apologise.

And what better form of an apology for being dismissive of your feelings than putting a personal effort into something for you.

He walked into the office that morning with a leather bound copy of The Parasite by Arthur Conan Doyle stored cautiously in his messenger bag, pages scrawled with annotations from Spencer’s own reading of the novel that he hoped would be insightful to you as you read it yourself.

He’d remembered you saying how much you wanted to read the novel a few months ago, so he figured giving it to you as a personalised apology would show that he really did care about you and had listened to what you’d told him.

“Are you busy?” Spencer asks, though he already knows the answer to the question.

He’d been watching you from the other side of the room all morning, hoping for a moment or two of eye contact to see if there was a possibility of a conversation. A look from one to the other; even a smile would’ve been enough to make him feel validated and content. And he would have been willing to settle for that.

But you never looked up. Not even once.

"Mhm," You continue to not spare Spencer so much as glance as he speaks, turning over the page of the file you were working through.

“Can I take a minute of your time?” He tried to catch your gaze again, only to be met by your continued focus on your work. The last thing he wanted to do was disrupt your work routine, but he also knew that he needed to talk to you sooner rather than later.

“Please,” he said softly. “It’s important.”

You exhale heavily through your nose, exasperation written clearly in your expression as you leave your pen as a page marker to close the manilla folder on your desk. You turn your head upwards, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands to agitatedly indicate for him to continue.

You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt being so openly cold towards Spencer, but you’d reached a breaking point, and you couldn’t bare sitting idly on the sidelines and letting him tear your heart to pieces anymore.

Spencer was relieved that you’d granted him your attention, but the look you directed towards him was enough to make him wince. You weren’t looking at him through a lens of indifference but rather cold, hard disappointment.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather the right words for what he had to say.

“I’m sorry,”

He seemed almost breathless as he spoke, like he’d just finished a tangent about something without taking the time to breathe. “I know that I’ve been spending too much time talking about Maeve and not enough paying attention to you.”

"You don’t say," You mutter the words under your breath to yourself, but your sure that Spencer heard you based on the way his eyebrows knit and the small gleam of hope in his eyes dwindles to barely a flicker.

He was trying not to react to your snide comment. Spencer knew that your tone didn’t leave any room to deny your meaning. He’d been selfish in talking exclusively about his relationship and hadn’t realised how it was affecting you.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated. “You mean so much to me and I haven’t been showing that.”

"Thank you," Your thanks are polite but dismissive, like you were acknowledging his apology but choosing to not actually consider it as one, and it left Spencer with an expression of clear frustration.

He was used to being able to read your facial expressions and emotions in the past, but now you were just an unreadable wall of disappointment. He had hoped the apology would've been enough, but it was clear that you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

Time to pull out the last resort.

He bent over and fumbled with his bag for a few moments before pulling out the novel he’d brought with him face up.

“I uh… got you this,” He holds out the book towards you. “You said you wanted to read it right? So I uh.. annotated it for you to make it more enjoyable,”

You take the novel from him with a raised eyebrow as your eyes scan the cover, a clear flicker of confusion in your expression.

Spencer noticed your expression and furrowed his own brow in confusion. You didn't seem to recognise the book. In fact, the look on your face made him wonder whether you even knew this book existed at all before this moment.

“I hope you… like it,” he said nervously. “I was going off what you'd talked about before. You mentioned the book was a classic?”

"I… have never seen this book in my life,”

“B-But…” Spencer knew this was going to be awkward at some point, but he'd hoped not this early into the conversation. He could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment, and it was only getting worse as he searched your face for an answer to this awkward situation.

“I… swear I heard you mention it once.”

You give him a short shake of your head and a pursed smile of awkward thanks as you put the book down on your desk.

Spencer looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. He hadn't even been able to deliver an apology properly, let alone make you feel special like he'd originally intended to.

How had he gotten it wrong? He had an eidetic memory for god’s sake.

When you put the book down on your desk, his eyes flicked back to the book. He'd spent almost 4 hours annotating and researching it and now it felt like all that effort had been wasted.

If you hadn’t mentioned it then who had? Someone must’ve. Someone he obviously equated with you to the point where he’d somehow managed to override his eidetic memory to mix the two of you up.

It takes him a few moments before you hear him whisper out a name under his breath, the palm of his hand dragging down the front of his face at the realisation.

"Maeve…"

The mention of her name had your eyes flickering away from the leather cover and right back to Spencer’s face, awkwardness completely rid of your features and replaced with a mix of negativity that Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to dig into.

"Are you serious?" Your words come out less questioningly and more accusatory, and you hold the book up so that he can see it once more, the gold embossing on the cover glinting under the overhead light as if to only taunt Spencer further for his mistake.

“You apologise for continuously disregarding me for your girlfriend by giving me a book that she showed interest in?”

You could see Spencer's face fall as your words sink in.

He hadn't even taken the time to think over what he was apologising with. It was almost as if his brain automatically just reverted back to his girlfriend's interests as an escape from dealing with his own guilt and sadness.

"Damn it," he whispered to himself. And in that moment he realised he'd just committed the biggest crime someone could make when trying to apologise.

“Like you constantly flaunting your relationship in my face verbally wasn’t bad enough.”

"I'm sorry I-" he says again, voice teeming with sincerity and guilt.

"You are truly and utterly unbelievable Spencer Reid." Your words didn’t carry anger as much as they did disappointment, and he could see the astoundment in your eyes as you pushed your chair backwards to stand, dropping the book straight in the trash bin by your desk before walking off.

It’s where it belongs; Right alongside the small sliver of respect you still had for him.

Spencer could've said so much more: he could've admitted how ashamed he felt for his careless actions and he could've apologised again and again a million times if it meant you'd stick around and give him a chance to make it up to you.

But you had already made it clear that you weren't in the right state of mind to discuss this matter further.

The best thing he could do now was give you space as he watched you walk away, a deep pain in his heart that slowly ate him alive from the inside.

He’d well and truly fucked up.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You were bordering tears by the time you reached Garcia’s office, unintentionally interrupting her lunch break with Alex in the process, though the two seemed to care less about the interruption and more about the fact that you liked like you were about to cry your eyes out.

You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you try to tape together the cracks in your composure, although with every one you seal three more seem to appear in it’s place.

“I-” You can barely get the first word out before the tears start rolling down your face, and Alex immediately stands from her seat to guide you to sit in her place.

“Hey, you’re alright, slowly,” Alex’s hands find your shoulders and rub reassuring circles against your shirt. The slow breath you take in doesn’t stop the flood of tears that’s blurring your vision, and you only manage to get out a single word, but it’s all the two need to understand what’s got you so overwhelmed.

“Spencer-”

“I swear I am two seconds away from smacking that boy over the back of the head,” You can hear the clear frustration in Garcia’s tone. “Surely he’s got to realise how much he’s hurting you by now,”

“He does… I lashed out at him and then left to come here…” You rub your eyes with the back of your hand alongside a small sniffle, trying to rid your vision of it’s blurriness from your tears.

“Good, the boy deserves to have some sense knocked into him,” You appreciate Garcia taking your side, but you can’t help that small lingering feeling of guilt that invades the back of your mind.

“He’s just in love, it’s not his fault…” The words almost physically pain you to say. The verbal acceptance that Spencer Reid was indeed in love with somebody. Somebody who wasn’t you.

“That doesn’t mean that he should be disregarding you though sweetheart,” Alex’s tone is soft and almost maternal, and your sure that it doesn’t help how emotional you are.

Garcia’s right hand reaches forward to straighten out the collar of your shirt, unintentionally crumpled as you try to wipe your face of your emotions. “You’re his friend, and you have been his friend for longer than he’s known this girl he’s talking to, it’s not fair for him to completely push you to the side,”

Garcia was right. It’s not fair. Nothing about how Spencer had been treating you since he’d started speaking to Maeve had been fair. And you were done making excuses for the boy just because you knees deep in your feelings for him.

You didn’t deserve to feel guilty. You didn’t deserve to feel bad for lashing out at Spencer for apologising for not showing interest in your life by further proving just how little he’d actually payed attention to you. You didn’t deserve to cry because he was the most stupid genius to ever live and couldn’t see that you were hopelessly in love with him. You didn’t deserve to suffer by his hand.

It wasn’t fair.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Maeve’s been kidnapped.”

You have to consciously suppress the small voice in the back of your head that celebrates the possibility that she might not be a part of Spencer’s life for much longer. It’s a horrible thought. You should never wish ill upon anyone, no matter how much you internally despised them.

Still, that part of you that was still petty, that was still infuriated with Spencer and Maeve, wanted you to tell Spencer straight to his face that you weren’t going to help him find her and that it was karma for how he’d treated you.

But you weren’t a bad person.

As much as you might hate her, she was still important to Spencer.

“I have a wealth of knowledge i should be applying to this case, but- i can’t focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time… which makes me the dumbest person in the room-” Spencer’s eyes are full of desperation as they scan across your teammates.

“So please help me… Please help me find her…” The desperation in his voice is heartbreaking, the remnants of tears staining his face as he explains the context of the situation through broken sentences.

“We don’t have an official case, so we’ll be working on personal time,” Hotch’s voice is much quieter than you’re used to. Softer, more considerate. “Does anybody want to leave?”

You can feel his eyes linger on you as he asks the question, and you subconsciously purse your mouth into a tight line to stop yourself from impulsively pulling out of the investigation.

You might be detrimentally frustrated with him, but you did want to help. Even if it ultimately resulted in your downfall.

Hotch gave you a short nod before turning to the rest of the team. “Good, let’s get to work,”

It didn’t take Garcia very long to track Maeve down, mostly attributed to her unique name and specialised job.

Dr. Maeve Donovan, a professor at Mendel University who took a sabbatical leave 10 months ago.

The group split into different groups once they’d found her, JJ and Morgan heading off to a loft her parents owned, Alex and Rossi heading to the lab she used to work at, and you and Hotch, accompanied by Spencer, going to speak to Maeve’s parents.

“Reid,” Garcia’s tone is soft as she looks over her laptop screen towards him as he begins to stand from the conference table. “I have a picture of her, do you want to know what she looks like?”

“No,”

Spencer’s answer is immediate, joined by a shake of his head.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You and Spencer watched from behind the one way mirror as the interview progressed.

They’d last spoken to Maeve five days ago. Her mother had cancer. She was also a geneticist. They were suspicious of her ex fiancé Bobby.

Her fiancé?

You can see Spencer’s face drop at the words despite the low lighting in the room, and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows yourself.

She had a fiancé?

Spencer practically storms out of the office after the questioning is over, and Hotch has to remind him to calm down as they reach the apartment of Robert Putnam with Morgan and Rossi in tow.

When the door opens the five of you aren’t greeted by Robert, but rather a girl, a girl who looked very confused.

You invite yourselves inside at the girl’s recognition that Robert was inside the apartment.

“And who are you?”

“I’m Diane, his girlfriend,” She raised an eyebrow as the five of you looked around, confusion cut short as Robert rounds the corner questioning the sudden voices coming from his living room.

“Hey babe what’s-“

“Robert Putnam, FBI we’d like to-” Spencer’s voice cuts him off harshly as he rushes to speak, although he stops his sentence halfway as a flicker of recognition falls across his features and his anger turns to dread.

“Hey, I know you,” Robert doesn’t have the time to say anything else to Spencer before Hotch forces him out of the room, shutting the door behind him to speak to Spencer privately whilst you Morgan and Rossi remained inside.

Hotch returned a few minutes later. Spencer didn’t.

You end up taking Hotch’s place as you push yourself out of the apartment with a small “excuse me,” to follow after Spencer as he walks out of the apartment building.

“Spencer- wait up a minute-”

He doesn’t stop at your call, and you’re practically running down the stairs by the time you get to him, already out of the front doors of the apartment building.

“Hey-” You take a second to catch your breath before turning your eyes back towards him again. “Are you alright?”

You could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes as he met your gaze.

The last time you spoke to him you threw away any remnant of your friendship with him in the bin alongside the book he’d given you, and now here you were, chasing after him to make sure that he was okay.

“Why did you agree to help?”

Your face falls from concern to surprise at his question, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I know that you don’t like her, so why are you here?” You could see the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes, clearly overwhelmed with how the investigation was going.

“She’s important to you Spencer. Like her or not I care about you. So therefore I care about her,” You don’t think as you speak, words spilling out of your mouth with no conscious filter.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer’s apology elicits a sigh from your mouth, and you shake your head softly at him.

“Forget it, let’s focus on getting Maeve home safe alright?” He obliges to your request with a purse of his lips and a small nod, turning his eyes towards the ground.

“What’re you thinking about?” His eyes fall on yours once more at your question, round with confusion and glistening with the starts of tears. “I can see it in your face, you’re calculating something in your head,”

He exhales through his mouth in a small laugh. You’d always been able to figure him out, and not just because you were a profiler.

“2,412 hours,” His tone is uncertain, mixed between gratefulness for you observance and something far more upsetting. “That’s how long Maeve and I have contacted each other counting letters and phone calls…”

“That’s what-” You take a second to do the calculation in your head. “100 days?”

“100.5…” He runs his hand backwards through his hair, pressing his eyes closed like he’s afraid tears will spill from them if he doesn’t. “What if that’s all I get?”

“It won’t be Spencer…”

“You don’t know that-“

“Yes Spencer, I do,” You have to consciously suppress the sigh that threatens to leave your mouth, pushing your lingering distaste for Maeve down with it. “She is going to be fine, I promise,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Turns out Maeve’s ex fiancé wasn’t the stalker. In fact, he was being stalked himself, and whilst JJ and Garcia were looking over the images posted to Robert whilst him and Maeve were still together they discovered something that changed the entire direction of the investigation.

Maeve’s face had scribbled out in eyeliner.

You and the team spent the next thirty minutes rebuilding the profile from the bottom up.

“Celebrity stalkers are usually non violent,”

“You want to tell that to John Lennon Rossi?” Spencer looked up from his lap towards the group at the table, having separated himself from the group to sit on a sofa lining one of the walls so he couldn’t bias the profile.

It wasn’t going too well.

“What was it that Mark David Chapman said after he shot him?” Spencer stood from his seat, anger flaring in his nostrils. “‘It was like all of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided’,”

You could hear the rise in his tone as he worked himself up the more he spoke.

“Spencer-“

“Maeve is somebody. And this- bitch is a nobody.”

“Spencer.”

Spencer caught your gaze, and immediately fizzling out of his eyes and replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry- I can’t be very helpful right now I should leave-“

“Yes you can Reid, you have 100.5 days of communication with this girl and a recall everything verbatim,” Morgan’s gaze is entirely concerned with Spencer’s outburst.

“There’s too much of it, and I can’t sort through any of it clearly-“ Spencer is clearly on the edge of breaking, and you can tell he’s not going to be able to keep his composure for much longer.

“Then pick one of us and we’ll go through it with you,” Hotch leaned his elbows against the table, his voice again portraying that soft, parental tone that said he knew how overwhelmed Spencer was getting.

Spencer didn’t even say anything, his eyes just silently flickered over to you and you knew you couldn’t refuse him.

You return his silence as you get up from your seat and pat your hand on his shoulder for the two of you to exit the room together.

Time to torture yourself for the sake of Spencer’s wellbeing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Diane Turner, a research assistant working for her PhD in the same lab as Maeve. A student who had her thesis rejected because it contained a heavy sample bias that included both of her parents.

It took a while, but Garcia eventually managed to track down a loft that was owned under Diane’s parents’ names, less than 10 minutes away from Maeve’s apartment.

“Take your gun and vest off,” Diane’s voice is harsh through the receiver attached to the front of the building, and Spencer’s eyes flickered up from the silk blindfold in his hands to the metal box.

He doesn’t question the orders as he immediately begins stripping the vest from his torso, dropping it and his gun on the floor.

“Now come in alone.”

“Spencer.” You call out to him as he reaches for the door handle, and he gives you that look that makes your stomach do flips in your torso. Except this time it’s not that pleasant fluttery feeling, but instead an existential dread at the fact that he might not walk out of the building alive.

“I’ll be okay,” He gives you a nod of reassurance as he pushes the door open, and you find yourself clenching your hands around your gun to stop yourself from following after him.

The six of you wait outside for what feels like hours, and you lean back and forth on the balls of your feet as you become increasingly restless with the situation.

Then, a gunshot.

And a second.

And your heart drops in your chest.

You’re not entirely present as you rush into the building with the team following behind you, gun raised at your eyes.

Spencer had to be okay. He had to. He was going to be fine. You were going to walk into that room and he was going to be perfectly fine.

You hoped Maeve was alright too. As much as she was unintentionally causing you literal hell, you knew that she meant everything to Spencer.

You knew that he’d choose her over anything. He’d choose her over you.

And right now you don’t care. You just want him to be okay.

You force the door open to the loft with your foot, gun pointed straight ahead at the first person you see.

“Stay back-“ Spencer practically shouts from where he’s half lying on the floor, right hand clutching tightly at his left bicep, trails of blood cascading down his fingers and onto the floor.

“Stay back stay back don’t shoot-“

You let out an audible sigh at the fact that Spencer wasn’t critically harmed, although upon a whimper of his name from further across the room you turn your eyes up to the noise.

And you finally meet the girl that’s caused you ten months of hell. Held at gunpoint.

That small voice in the back of your head tells you that this might be your chance to finally rid her from your life, to let her succumb to whatever Diane had planned and leave Spencer to you.

But you take one look at the desperation in her eyes and any loathing that remained in your mind immediately fizzled out.

It wasn’t her fault. Of course it wasn’t. She was just a girl that happened to be in love.

“Diane,” Spencer pushes himself to stand, and you can see the pain in his face as he does. “There’s still a way out of this,”

“You never wanted me. Never!” Diane pushes the gun she’s holding hard against Maeve’s neck, and you can see her eyes squeeze closed as she attempts to keep herself from crying. “You lied!”

“I didn’t.”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly, and you glance over at Hotch as you spread across the back of the room, guns raised in Diane’s direction. “Diane, I offered you a deal, and you can still take it,”

“Me for her. Let me take her place,”

You only have a view of the back of Spencer’s head now, but you can tell by the tone of his voice that his expression is a pure display of desperation, one that you’re happy you can’t see because you’d lose your composure in an instant.

“You would do that?” Diane’s question is angry and accusatory, tears rolling down her face as she presses the gun against Maeve’s neck once more.

Spencer nods with no threat in his tone. “Yes,”

“You would kill yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

You practically feel your heart stop.

“Thomas Merton,” Maeve’s voice is almost exactly as you imagined it to be. Soft, smooth and, as Spencer had called it all those months ago, ‘dipped in honey’.

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane’s tone contrasts Maeve’s tenfold, pitchy, uneven and overrun with manic anger.

“He knows,” You can see Maeve’s eyes flicker, and you assume that they meet Spencer’s as his shoulders drop. “He knows.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane shakes Maeve in her grasp as if to intensify the urgence of her question, and you tighten your grip on your gun in instinctual response. “Who is he?”

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve’s voice is confident and defiant despite the clear tears in her eyes.

Thomas Merton could’ve been something between Spencer and you.

“No.”

You can see a clear change in Diane’s expression at Maeve’s words, and she lowers the gun from Maeve’s head only to hold it up against her own, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes.

“Wait-”

Spencer barely has time to shout the word before the gun fires, and you flinch at the sound as you watch Maeve and Diane both drop to the floor, dark red blood pooling around the two.

You can feel the tension in the room as everyone computes what just happened, guns lowering slowly as their eyes lock onto the two women on the floor.

You’re not focused on that. You’re focused on the tightness of Spencer’s shoulders as he takes sharp breaths in and out of his nose.

The way he seems to forget about the bullet wound in his arm as his legs give out underneath him.

The way a sob that leaves his mouth despite the fact that he tries to muffle it with his hand.

The way that Spencer broke.

He's crying. Big, heaving, heart-wrenching sobs.

His shoulders are trembling.

His hands are shaking.

His head is hanging downwards so that his hair is covering his face.

You approach him slowly, kneeling down at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His eyes slowly shift from Maeve, his sobs only seeming to amplify as he meets your gaze. His eyes are red and closely with tears, his cheeks running hot and his lips trembling.

You don’t speak, knowing that you’ll break if you do. Instead, you guide his head into your shoulder and let him crumble in your arms, grieving the loss of the love of his life.

You’re sure you’re going to cry yourself to sleep when you get home, but right now, you needed to be strong. For him.

“I’m so sorry-“ Spencer speaks through broken sobs as you hold him, the rest of the team moving to secure the scene.

“Shh,” You shake your head against his softly, rubbing the palm of your hand up and down his back as you let him cry until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“I treated you so horribly-“ He pulls away from your shoulder to look into your eyes once more. “I’m so sorry- Please don’t leave me…”

You purse your lips into a line, your expression full of so many emotions Spencer can’t distinguish any of them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You pull his head back into your shoulder, leaning your head against his. “I promise…”

[revelboo]

I’ve been inspired to watch the old gen 1 cartoon and I can’t 😂 this show is an absolute trip and I love it

G1 was just so awesomely random, you have to love it 😊

Everything is Alright Pt 22

Starscream x Reader-curious

• Big, wide eyes stare up at him in silence. Starscream vents softly, working the softness of your hair with the end of the cloth and you just stare, your little heart pounding against him. He’s shocked you so badly, you aren’t resisting him anymore. Mass displacement isn’t ideal, but it makes dealing with your squirming much easier. Even if it is a risk. Being caught so small might very well mean his death. Too small, too vulnerable to defend himself. Is that how you feel around him? Helpless? He doesn’t like that thought.

• He’s little. Ish. Maybe eight feet tall now? The hand releases your chin and tugs at your blanket and that at least smashes through the shocked fog of incomprehension paralyzing you. And you slap his hand hard. He vents sharply and you both freeze. When he’s huge, he seems to find your attempts to smack him funny. Not so much now and you’d hit him hard enough for your palm to sting. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes watering.

• Huffing, he grabs your wrist to inspect your little hand. “Must you be so difficult?” He grouses as you try to tug free. Had you damaged yourself? It’d serve you right even as it doesn’t sit right with him. Grip gentle, he manipulates your little fingers, not really sure that he can tell if something is wrong, but also oddly fascinated. Five fingers just like his own servos, but so delicate compared to his hands. “I suppose if my plating was stripped away leaving only protoarmor, I wouldn’t like someone prodding at me,” he mutters as you blink up at him. Your expression going blank as he lets go of your hand to adjust the cloth around your shoulders. Covering you better.

• It’s as close to an apology as you’re likely to get and feeling brave, you catch his hand before he can pull away. His wings flick up aggressively and you drop your eyes, waiting for him to snarl at you. But he doesn’t. When you peek at his face, he’s just frowning while his wings do that weird little tremor you associate with anger or stress. But which? Dropping your eyes again, you study his big hand and wonder. His face, his expressions, they’re all too human. A lot of it is probably just seeing what you want to see, because Stockholm’s, but as he allows you to turn his hand over and you line up your much smaller palm in his, you can’t help but smile, because it’s like they’re almost made to fit together.

• What are you doing? Frame tense, he watches you press your palm to his, lining up your fingers with his servos like you’re curious about him. But he’s only aware of the warmth of you against his frame, the softness of your hand pressed to his. Of how incongruent, but strangely right this seems. But then his door is sliding open and he stiffens as Soundwave slips inside.

• Even with his face hidden by the visor and mask, the sheer disapproval in that stare is a physical, oppressive thing. And fury sparks through Starscream even as he shifts back to his full size as fast as possible. One hand grabbing the human and pinning you to his chassis even as the strain of using so much energy so quickly saps him, his processor feeling like it’s splitting open. He bares his denta at the other mech, wings trembling in rage. “Get out.”

Previous Next

They’re taking over…

[jammydodger3579]

Young Lust

Summary: Reader is an ex-widow. She escaped with Yelena and lives at the Avengers compound, though she denies being one. The X-men have been working with the Avengers quite closely lately. (I plan on making this a series so that's all the context you get for now hehe)

A/N: so this is the first piece I've put out in a long time so pls be kind, feedback is welcome as long as it's constructive. idk when I'll post the second chapter so enjoy this for now. Also couldn't stop listening to Young Lust by Pink Floyd and Closer by Nine Inch Nails while writing this iykyk ;)

18+, for mature audiences only.

1000+ word count.

Warnings: smut, p/v sex. cursing? I'm really bad at writing smut so apologies

It wasn’t the first time they’d met, it was just the first time he’d noticed her. Her hair, messily curled. Her makeup, strikingly bold. It suits her. Y/N noticed him too. Drink in hand, leaning against the kitchen island. He seems to have put effort into his appearance for this night. His hair was done, his beard freshly shaven. He even wore his nicest jeans and jacket. Y/N was half listening to a conversation between Kitty and Yelena. Something about how Kitty had come to be at the mansion. They all got along, especially since the Avengers, and their associates like Y/N and Yelena, wanted to bridge the gap between them and the X-men.

Professor Xavier had come to the compound around 3 months ago to discuss with Stark the future of the X-men and how they should all work together. They were practically already neighbours, Stark remarked, the Avengers compound being only a 20-minute drive from the school. Logan had visited that day, sparking up a conversation with Y/N and Bucky.

“So you’re an avenger?” She looked up and smiled at the large man. 

“Only by association. They give me a place to live, and I help them out with missions” She shrugged and stood up. Compared to her, Logan towered over her. “So you’re an X-man?”

“Only by association” Logan nodded and noticed the Professor leaving Starks office. And with that, he was gone. Y/N sighed. Bucky stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Guess we’ll be seeing more of them,” He said. He was right, Y/N would be seeing a lot of Logan. She wanted to know more. 

The X-men had successfully worked with the Avengers for a series of related missions, Y/N only onboard for some of them, so as a celebration of their success, Professor Xavier hosted a dinner night for the Avengers. Y/N parted ways with the woman and walked over to Logan. She leaned over the counter and poured herself a drink. 

“Enjoying yourself?” They’d only spoken a few times during their missions. They seemed to work well together without talking. Logan nodded and took a sip of his drink. “I’ve never actually been here before, it’s nice” 

“It is, have you had the tour yet?” Logan pulled a cigar out of his pocket. “I need fresh air anyway, so I can show you around a bit” Y/N nodded and followed him out of the kitchen. They walked through the dining room and a living room. One of a few, Logan had said. They made their way outside to the back of the building. Y/N watched as Logan lit his cigar and she took this opportunity to light herself a cigarette. Logan scoffed slightly. “Didn’t peg you for a smoker, bub” 

She smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes you just need a cigarette,” Logan nodded, understanding. He couldn’t help but notice her face, under the moonlight. Her makeup making her features more prominent. He’d recognized she was naturally pretty before, but tonight was different. She was wearing casual, nice clothing. Not her usual tactical gear. Her hair was down unlike how she usually had it. She looked almost regular, someone you wouldn’t expect to have a gun tucked under her skirt. But she was raised to be prepared for anything. “Tell me, how does the Professor feel about his teachers smoking on school grounds?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him. Besides, it’s a stressful job” Y/N was drawn to him, especially tonight. Maybe it was just the alcohol or the moonlight. Something in her stirred. She needed more. His massive body, his arms around her…

They’d had a moment, about 3 weeks back, a one-time thing. Logan was at the compound with Bobby and Kitty, discussing some information they had with the team. Y/N wasn’t a part of the conversation, she had just been training with Yelena. As she walked into the room, the conversation died down. Stark called the meeting there and everyone piled out of the room. Except for Logan, he stayed behind. They made small talk, but there was tension between them. He’d seen how she’d fight, still looking gorgeous after each punch. Even after she’d been training, she barely looked bothered. Logan was collecting files from around the table when he leaned past Y/N, brushing past her shoulder. He held his breath, fearing something would happen if he moved. 

“Good workout?” he finally said, breaking the tension. 

“Could’ve joined, y’know, since we’re a “team” now” She replied calmly, leaning against the table. “God knows I need a new training partner, Yelena is relentless” 

“You guys are very close.” Logan was still standing right next to Y/N. He extended his claws out to retrieve the last file on the table. 

“We were raised together, in the red room... We escaped together, and when she found her sister, she offered for us to stay here. We were family, shared trauma and all..” she trailed off, shaking her head “Sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping all this onto you” 

“It’s okay, I get it” Logan looked over. He saw a vulnerable woman, not the same snide-commenting one he’d gotten to know on the battlefield. His gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips, hurt washing over her face. And then it happens. Y/N had leaned in and kissed Logan. By instinct, he pulled back, shock all over his face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sor-” Y/N was cut off by Logan's lips crashing against hers. His hands dropped the files and moved to her waist, pulling her in flush against his body. He was rough, his lips chapped. She was comfortable, her lips soft. Y/N lifted a hand into his hair. That caused Logan to pull away again, second-guessing what he was doing. 

“No I’m sorry, you’re upset and I’m taking advantage.” Logan grabbed the files off the table and left the room, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts. It felt like second nature, the act itself feeling so normal that it left Y/N feeling confused. Why had she done that? Why did she open up like that? Logan was an X-men. They should be working together, not getting together behind closed doors. 

“You’re cold, here” That snapped Y/N back. Logan removed his jacket and put it around her, his hands lingering on her shoulders. Y/N leaned in and kissed his cheek without thinking. Stupid. Logan smiled and kissed her forehead. It was instant. Y/N put her cigarette out, took Logan's cigar away from his mouth, and kissed him. It was hungry, desperate. To her surprise, logan leaned into it this time, putting one hand around her waist and the other on her face. Then he pulled away. “I wouldn’t take a man's cigar away from him, sweetheart,” he said, taking it back. 

“What are you gonna do about it” The words escaped before she could think about it. Then, without warning, Logan took her hand and pulled her inside the building. This was exciting. He found an empty broom closet and the two went inside. Before she could ask what was happening, Logan had her pinned against the door. They could hear talking and laughter. Logan locked the door, just in case. Y/N was drinking in his scent, the cigar still burning between his lips. He removed it, put it out against his hand, and placed it back in his pocket. He was thinking about it, a suitable punishment. 

“Let's see, what would a dirty woman like you deserve” he snarled before kissing her again. It was heated, sloppy. Y/N had been waiting for a moment like this for months. Before this, it was stolen looks and glances towards the other. He would casually ask if she was okay during their missions. Constantly checking in. This was different. This was heading somewhere. Finally.

She moved her right leg to wrap around Logan’s left leg in an attempt to bring him closer. He kisses her roughly, poking his tongue inside his mouth to show whos boss here. Logan’s hands roamed her body, smiling when he found the gun she had hidden for emergencies. He removed it carefully before returning to explore Y/N’s body. He left marks down her neck, causing a loud moan to escape. Logan placed a hand over her mouth, the other returning to her leg. She leaned into him, desperate for him to feel her. She could feel his growing erection against her. She muffled something against his hand quietly. He moved it away.

“I need you” she panted, she was eager, he’ll give her that. He wanted to devour her. He pulled down her underwear and traced her clit painfully slow. 

“So wet for me already,” he purred. Her hips moved closer, wanting more. Her hands roamed his chest, then moved down to his belt. She started to unbuckle it, fumbling as she was very distracted when he stopped her. He moved away slightly, taking in his view. He quickly took his belt off with one swift tug and then freed himself of his pants. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight, daunted by his size. Logan smiled and returned his lips to hers. He placed his hands under her thighs and lifted her onto him slowly. Y/N moaned against the contact. “Shh, I’ll need you to be more quiet sweetheart” 

Logan got a good rhythm going before returning his lips to a special spot on Y/N’s neck. She whimpered, not wanting anyone to hear her get fucked against a door. Her legs wrapped themselves around Logan's waist, not wanting him to leave. His hand covered her mouth, not wanting any noise to escape. He nibbled and licked and kissed all along Y/N’s neck. Her hand reached into his hair, holding on for dear life. She was already close to her end. She bit the inside of Logan's hand. This made him speed up his thrusts, knowing she was almost close to coming undone around him. 

“Such a dirty girl, taking me so well,” Logan growled against her skin. His movements were getting rough and sloppy, also close to his climax. Lust filled his eyes when he saw the pleasure on Y/N’s face. He became animalistic almost, kissing her, dominating her mouth. Y/N could feel the build-up coming, moaning against Logan's mouth, no longer caring about the possibility of being heard. He placed his hand back over her mouth as she came around him. Logan continued until a deep grunt left his mouth, coming undone inside her. Y/N felt him fill her up, and it drips around Logan's waist. They're both breathing heavily and kissing each other sloppily. They rode out the high together for as long as possible before Logan placed her back down. Her heart was racing, she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Logan pulled his pants back up and adjusted his belt. He didn’t know what to say. Y/N was still trying to catch her breath when he handed her gun and underwear back to her. She put everything back into place when Logan broke their silence. “I hope we can do that again sometime bub” and before she could reply, Logan had left the closet, returning to the dinner night.

Part 2: here.

[nothorses]

I hope this is okay to ask but I’m pretty desperate and googling stuff has failed me, so do you or one of your followers have recommendations on how to deal with the BO that comes with taking testosterone? I never had BO that couldn’t just be managed by showering enough and putting on just any deodorant but now that I’m taking T I sweat a lot and I smell bad and I nothing I do seems to fix it. My boss has politely mentioned it several times now despite all my effort and it’s so mortifying and embarrassing.

Things I’ve tried and am currently doing include so many different deodorants which I bring to work and reapply, putting baking powder in my shoes, on top of general basic hygiene. But none of it seems to make a dent and it doesn’t help that I can’t really change clothes or shoes throughout the day. I have to wear closed toed shoes and a lab coat and my job is pretty active, plus it’s 10 minutes walk from the parking lot and it’s over 100F or 40 C right now so when I arrive at work I’m already pouring sweat. I also have a large chest so it all gets under my bra and soaks into it and by the end of the day the bottom part of my bra reeks.

I know some ocasional BO on a busy day can’t be helped but none of the other people at work including other male coworkers seem to have the same issue at all, so there’s got to be a solution but I haven’t found it. Im thinking of trying antiperspirants but I also know I need to sweat and I would rather not put my health at risk. So if anyone has something that works for them please let me know bc im really desperate here.

First I want to say: you're not doing anything wrong. You probably just sweat more than some other folks, and that's not your fault, and you shouldn't feel bad about it. I'm gonna give you some ideas to try if you haven't yet, but I don't know how much you've already tried, and it sounds like you've been through a lot already.

I also have always had terrible BO, and the only thing that helped at all pre-T was "prescription strength" deodorant. I honestly have had less of an issue since starting T, weirdly enough, but part of that is also that I physically cannot stand to shower any less frequently than every single morning (not necessarily a good thing lol), and I also started using antibacterial products on my armpits when I shower.

Currently I use benzoyl peroxide body wash on my armpits, which can be drying, but it hasn't caused me issues so far (just look for Panoxyl, other brands have caused irritation for me and my partner both). I used Betadine surgical scrub before that for a bit (you collect weird shit when you work with horses 🤷‍♂️) and that worked well, too- plus it's less likely to irritate skin.

I also find that certain shirts cause me to sweat there more, and those also tend to be the more form-fitting shirts that get up into my armpits. That skin def needs to breathe.

My partner has had trouble with feet/shoes in the past, and he's used cedar shoeforms to mitigate that (cedar is also antibacterial!). He also makes sure any shoes he gets are breathable (not leather), and if they are leather, he gives them at least a day or two between wears. Probably good practice if you notice any kind of smell on any of your shoes.

You mention baking powder, and I'm not sure if you meant baking soda and just mixed them up (which I do all the time lmao) but just in case: if you are using baking powder, the one you want is baking soda.

I don't have much advice for chest sweat, except that you may want to consider bringing an extra bra (and maybe an extra pair of socks if you're noticing it before the end of the day) to change into midway through the day. You can also look for more breathable fabrics in general, especially athletic-wear, which is already designed to help wick sweat and mitigate those issues.

Lastly, I want to stress again that you're not doing anything wrong. Some people have more trouble with this than others, and if you're really struggling in a way nobody around you is, it may be that you've got something going on in your body that they don't have to deal with. This could be a medical thing as well (like acne!!), and there's no shame in seeking medical solutions for it. Talk to your doctor if you can; it sounds like it's causing you distress, and you deserve to be comfortable.

[lycandrophile]

some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

[callmelola111]

loser!ellie ♡ dating app headcanons

synopsis: totally sfw hc’s of loser!ellie (modern au) on dating apps, including a cute little 1st date scenario. basically just pure fluff !!!

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 1.4k

a/n: never written headcanons before, crazy ass shit. idk if i did it exactly right but i think it will be an entertaining read no matter what. i’ve recently caved and downloaded hinge which is what inspired this---but there’s only like 40 gay bitches on there and that’s it (also like no mascs?? i’m attracted to any kind of non-man but still,,, the shortage is real y’all). ALSO let me know if this is something you’d like a nsfw/smut part 2 of. much loveeee ♡~ lola

| ❀ | loser!ellie who took weeks of convincing from dina and jesse to finally download hinge after she wouldn’t shut up about how she’s “never beating the loser lesbian allegations”. truly she could have any girl she wants but just doesn’t know how to speak to them in real life. they were so fed up with her bullshit.

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who only has like 3 pictures of her actual face so the rest of the photos on her hinge profile are just art pics and gay memes

| ❀ | loser!ellie who had to beg dina for help writing all the little prompts just to reject all her ideas because she’d “never say something like that!”

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who started getting so cocky as soon as those likes began to roll in. saying some shit like “ooo i have rizz” in the cringiest way possible. jesse just says it’s cause there’s a masc lesbian shortage and of course she flips him off in response.

| ❀ | loser!ellie whose cockiness immediately leaves her body when she realizes she has to go through the likes and accept/reject every girl. eventually she just gave up and stopped looking because it felt “too mean” and like “too much work”.

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who SUCKS at responding to messages and likes after she lost all interest about 2 days into having the app. that is until she stumbled upon your profile…

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - - 

| ❀ | loser!ellie whose glued to her notifications after she matched with you on hinge. at this point you’re her fixation, and every other message besides yours are going unanswered. as soon as she works up the courage to ask for your number, and you oblige, she immediately deletes the app.

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who stares at her screen for like 5 minutes straight at the first text message she plans to send you, even though it was literally just “hey, is this y/n?”. she even googled the difference in connotations between hi, hey, and hello. it’s safe to say the girl is straight up mental about you.

| ❀ | loser!ellie who gets more and more unhinged as y’all get better acquainted with each other through texts. eventually she's spamming you with updates about her day, instagram memes that she thinks are funny, and an occasional flirty message—but of course, she’s waiting for that first date to really test the romantic waters. like yes she’s obsessed with you, but to the extent where she’s so scared to screw things up so every little move she makes is with caution and regard to your feelings and boundaries. it’s honestly super sweet.

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who eventually asked you on a first date after you sent like 3 different flirty memes to get the point across that you like her a lot and wanna be taken out for real. you definitely were sending her some shit like this…

| ❀ | loser!ellie who planned out a whole agenda for y’alls first date so it would be absolutely perfect. she refused to tell you where she was taking you or what you guys would be doing because she thought it would be better as a surprise. and although you were kinda stressing about what to wear and what to expect, the element of mystery was kind of endearing.

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - - 

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who pulls up to your house in her little beat up sedan that she had cleaned for like the first time ever just before she came and picked you up. there was still clearly some reminisce of her mess as seen on the stained seats and crumbs on the floor, but you didn’t mind—yours was just as bad (probably worse).

| ❀ | loser!ellie who took you out for sushi as the first stop on your date, to which she graciously paid for even with you fighting to put your card down on the table first. she looked so adorable with her little california roll, and even cuter when she accidentally got too much wasabi in a bite and was fiending for water while simultaneously trying to play it cool in front of you. you just laughed which immediately made her feel better about the whole thing. 

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who then took you to your town’s expansive park to walk the dirt trails and just talk. neither of you had ever gotten along with someone so well, the conversation was absolutely effortless. you talked about all your interests, funny life stories, your fears, and so much more. ellie listened attentively with nods and affirmations throughout which made you feel so cared for, something most girls on dating apps could never do. you extended the courtesy back and ellie told you all about her own stuff, including her obsession with space, to which she pulled out her favorite book on the topic to show you. space had never really piqued your interest before, but when it was coming out of the freckled girl's mouth, it seemed like the coolest thing in the world.

| ❀ | loser!ellie who sat next to you on one of the park’s wooden benches. time had flown by and neither of you had realized until your head was resting on her shoulder as the sun set in front of you. the orange cast hit her auburn hair just right and it looked like she was practically glowing. you couldn’t help but stare at her beauty which she noticed and with a concerned look questioned if she had anything on her face. you informed ellie of the trance she had put you in and she blushed the color of your pink nails just before leaning in to give you the most tender, loving kiss you’d ever received.

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who couldn’t stop kissing you once she started. your lips remained locked with hers for a solid 5 minutes, lips puffy and saliva exchanging, until the sound of a dog barking a few feet away broke the exchange. the energy had shifted in the best way possible and the both of you quickly opened up about how much you liked one another. one thing lead to another and suddenly ellie has out her pocket knife and is carving an E + R (reader) into the wood of the park bench. how lesbian of you guys ♡

| ❀ | loser!ellie who didn’t want the date to end and you were right there with her, so you somehow found yourselves in an empty parking lot at 9:00pm, drinking slurpees while she tried to teach you how to skate. it started off as a real attempt with her teaching you the basics like where to put your feet and the importance of bending your knees. after about 4 different falls onto the dirty asphalt you gave up on your genuine pursuits. discouraged, you sat right down on the board, knees up, before ellie gave you a push and you rolled across the lot. she was laughing her ass off and you were too until you hit a bump and tumbled off. 

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who bolted into the CVS the parking lot belonged to and bought a bunch of unnecessary first aid items for the small cut on your knee. she came back out of the sliding doors and you died of laughter as she pulled out a box of peppa pig bandaids for your skating “injury”. ellie insisted you needed to be taken care of though, so you let her do her thing and she finished it off with a small peck to the cap of your knee and one on your forehead.

| ❀ | loser!ellie who spent the trip back to your place with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, driving you absolutely wild. you almost had to remind yourself that this was just the first date.

| 𓆣 | loser!ellie who had been parked in your driveway for 10 minutes already but continued to stall your departure with more of her shenanigans. soon she ran out of things to say though and leaned over to kiss you goodbye. this goodbye turned into more and you ended up in her lap before the night was over. it wasn’t until your back hit the steering wheel making the car honk that you finally exited the vehicle. 

| ❀ | loser!ellie who waited for you to completely make it inside before she drove home, giving you a final little wave as you opened the front door. after she was back at her place she instantly texted you about date 2 and thanked you for the best night of her life. in her eyes, you were a keeper!

✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

[cursedlovesstuff]

Fixing Us. Part 4.

In the car, Nat’s mind raced with doubts and fears as she navigated through the city traffic.

Wanda sat beside her, scrolling through her phone, looking for recipes, but it was hard to ignore the storm of thoughts swirling inside Nat’s head.

“Stop overthinking, Nat,” Wanda said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Nat glanced over, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Your thoughts are loud,” Wanda replied, not looking up from her phone. “You’re overthinking everything that could go wrong.”

“Because a lot could go wrong, Wanda. This is Y/N we’re talking about,” Nat said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“I know, which is why you shouldn’t overthink. It’s not helping,” Wanda replied gently.

“I can’t stop overthinking. What if she’s falling out of love with me? What if there’s someone else? What if she doesn’t trust me anymore?” Nat’s voice grew more anxious with each question.

“If she was falling out of love, she wouldn’t give you a chance to fix things. You’re Y/N’s blind spot; she still loves you and she’s still in love with you. If she wasn’t, she would have left by now,” Wanda said firmly.

“Maybe you’ll realize that when you stop pushing her away.”

“I don’t push Y/N away,” Nat retorted defensively.

“You push everyone away, Nat,” Wanda countered, finally putting her phone down. “When you get stressed out and when work gets tough, you shut down emotionally. You try to pretend everything is fine when you’re struggling. You lose focus and forget important things, and Y/N puts up with it.”

Nat remained silent, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.

Wanda continued, “She tries to get you to sleep, to eat, to train. She tries to keep you on schedule so you don’t fall apart. After so many years, I couldn’t tell you why she still tries to keep you from spiraling.”

Nat sighed deeply, feeling a pang of guilt. “I know I’ve been difficult. I know I’ve taken her for granted.”

“You need to show her that you appreciate her, that you’re willing to put in the effort to make things right,” Wanda said softly. “The reason why I’m helping you is not just for the sake of your relationship, but for the sake of Y/N. She deserves happiness just as much as any of us she has also had a rough life, especially after everything she has done for you.”

“Everything she has done for me?” Nat repeated, sensing there was more to that statement than Wanda was letting on.

Wanda’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, but she didn’t elaborate. “Look, we’re here,” she said instead, nodding towards the parking lot of the shopping center.

Nat pulled into a parking space, turned off the engine, and sat there for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Thank you, Wanda,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without your support.”

Wanda smiled warmly. “That’s what friends are for. Now, let’s get this dinner sorted out. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

They walked into the grocery store, grabbing a cart. Nat glanced at the shopping list Wanda had compiled. “So, shrimp alfredo and garlic toast?”

“Yep, and we’ll need fresh ingredients to make it special. Let’s start with the seafood section,” Wanda suggested.

As they moved through the aisles, Wanda continued to offer advice. “Remember, it’s not just about the dinner. It’s about showing Y/N that you’re willing to put in the effort, that you’re thinking about her and what she likes.”

“I know,” Nat said, picking out a bag of fresh shrimp. “I just hope it’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late if you’re willing to make a change,” Wanda reassured her, placing a loaf of fresh bread in the cart.

As they moved to the produce section, Wanda picked up a bag of flour. Nat furrowed her brow in confusion. “Why do we need flour? Aren’t we just buying pasta?”

Wanda shook her head with a smile. “We’re making the pasta from scratch. It tastes better, and only the best for Y/N.”

Nat was impressed but also slightly overwhelmed. “Are you sure I can pull this off?”

“With my help, absolutely,” Wanda said confidently. “Let’s grab some fresh garlic and parsley too.”

They continued shopping, selecting the best ingredients. As Wanda picked up fresh tomatoes and heavy cream, Nat asked, “What are those for?”

“Homemade alfredo sauce. Trust me, it’s worth the effort,” Wanda explained, placing the items in the cart.

They made their way through the store, filling the cart with fresh basil, Parmesan cheese, and a bottle of white wine for the sauce. Nat’s mind was slightly more at ease as they checked off items from the list.

Once they had everything for the dinner, Nat wandered off to another section of the store, intent on picking up some of Y/N’s favorite things. She grabbed Oreos, her favorite chips, and some wine she knew Y/N loved among with other things.

As they checked out, Wanda looked at Nat curiously. “You really went all out with the extras.”

Nat smiled slightly. “I want to show her I’m thinking about her, not just with dinner, but in all the little things she loves.”

Wanda nodded approvingly. “That’s the right approach.”

After checking out, Wanda and Nat headed to the car to put up the groceries. Once they got into the car, Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

Nat nodded, a mix of nerves and determination in her eyes. “Ready.”

As they drove back to Nat’s apartment, the weight of the evening ahead felt heavy but hopeful. Nat was prepared to do whatever it took to make things right, one step at a time.

Back at the apartment, Nat and Wanda unpacked the groceries. Nat carefully placed the fresh ingredients on the counter, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Wanda began to organize everything, setting out the flour, eggs, and olive oil for the pasta dough.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” Wanda said, tying an apron around her waist. “We’re going to make the pasta dough. It’s a bit messy, but it’s worth it.”

Nat nodded, following Wanda’s lead.

“Alright, Nat. Here’s how we make the pasta dough. First, make a hole in the center of the flour,” Wanda instructed, demonstrating with a mound of flour on the counter. “Then, we crack the eggs into it.”

Nat watched closely and imitated Wanda’s actions, cracking eggs into the flour. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” Wanda said with a nod. “Now, you gently beat the eggs with a fork, slowly incorporating the flour from the edges.”

Nat concentrated, her tongue peeking out slightly as she carefully mixed the eggs and flour. “This is harder than it looks.”

Wanda chuckled. “It takes practice, but you’re doing great. Keep going until it forms a dough.”

As the mixture began to come together, Nat used her hands to knead it into a smooth ball. Wanda added a bit of olive oil, showing Nat how to work it into the dough. “Now we knead. Press it with the heel of your hand, fold it over, and repeat.”

Nat followed Wanda’s movements, finding a rhythm in the repetitive motions. “How long do we knead it?”

“About ten minutes, until it’s smooth and elastic,” Wanda replied. “You’re doing really well, Nat.”

After the dough was ready, they wrapped it in plastic wrap and set it aside to rest. Next, Wanda guided Nat through preparing the shrimp. “First, we need to devein and clean these,” Wanda explained, showing Nat how to remove the shells and veins from the shrimp.

Nat mimicked her, quickly getting the hang of it. “This isn’t so bad.”

“See? You’ve got this,” Wanda encouraged. “Now, let’s season them with some salt, pepper.”

With the shrimp prepped, they moved on to the sauce. Wanda handed Nat a small knife and a clove of garlic.

Nat carefully chopped the garlic, as wanda prepared the pan with olive oil, waiting for Nat to finish. “Great job, Nat.”

After wanda put the garlic into the pan it wasn't long before the aroma of garlic filled the kitchen as it cooked.

Wanda added heavy cream and white wine to the pan, stirring gently. “We’re making the sauce now. Let it simmer and thicken.”

While the sauce simmered, Wanda brought out the pasta dough. “Time to roll out the pasta,” she said, grabbing a rolling pin. “Dust the counter with flour and roll the dough out thinly.”

Nat rolled out the dough, amazed at how it transformed. “This is actually fun.”

Wanda laughed. “Cooking can be therapeutic. Now, we’ll cut the dough into thin strips for the fettuccine.”

They used a sharp knife to cut the pasta into even strips, laying them out to dry slightly. Wanda checked the sauce, adding grated Parmesan cheese and fresh basil. “The sauce is almost ready. Just needs a bit more time.”

Once everything was prepped, Wanda and Nat cooked the pasta in boiling water, watching as it floated to the top. They drained it and added it to the creamy Alfredo sauce, tossing in the cooked shrimp.

After they put everything together in the pot, Wanda’s phone rang, pulling her attention away from their cooking. She glanced at the screen and her face grew serious. “Clint? What’s up?”

Natasha watched Wanda’s expression intently. After a brief conversation, Wanda nodded and ended the call. “Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

Wanda said washing her hands she turns her attention to nat "I have to go someone is trying to rob a bank across town"

"Do you need my help?"

"I think I can handel it but what I do need you to do is fix things with y/n".

“What am I gonna do without your help?” Nat asked, her worry evident.

“Relax, Nat,” Wanda said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Just let the food cook on low for the next 20 minutes.” She hurried to pull on her jacket. “Uh, I’ll send you the recipe for the garlic bread. It’s simple. Call Y/N and see what time she’ll be home.”

Natasha nodded, trying to absorb Wanda’s calmness. “Okay. I’ll handle it.”

Wanda squeezed Nat’s shoulder reassuringly before rushing out. Alone in the kitchen, Nat took a deep breath and began preheating the oven. She gave herself a pep talk, muttering, “You’ve got this. Finish dinner, make her happy, apologize, and talk. Be honest and open. Don’t push her away.” She grabbed her phone and dialed Y/N’s number.

The phone rang for about a minute until Y/N picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you at work right now?” Nat asked, her heart pounding.

There was silence for about ten seconds before Y/N responded. “I’m just getting off and heading to the store. We ran out of eggs and flour, and I need to get something to cook for dinner.”

Nat smiled slightly. “I already went to the store and bought groceries for the week.”

“You did?” Y/N sounded surprised.

“Yes. When will you be home?”

“I guess I can be home in less than 15 minutes.”

“Great. I’ll see you in 15 minutes,” Nat says.

“Oh...okay,” Y/N replied, still sounding puzzled.

After hanging up, Nat started setting up the bed neatly, placing Y/N’s basket of treats and goodies with care. She then returned downstairs, set the oven to preheat, and nervously began preparing the ingredients for the garlic bread.

She heard the door open and close, followed by Y/N’s worried voice. “Nat?” ~

[astropookie]

Sun houses and fathers 🌞

Yoshitomi Nara

✨first post of 2024✨

take what resonates, leave what don’t 🎀 you don’t have to necessarily identify with it.

*I use whole sign system -house system- for more certainty

9H: you’re learning constantly from your dad. he teaches you what he’ve learned through his life. he’s teaching you about his mindset, the origin of his beliefs, why he stands for them. he could be someone very religious or faithful, and through that faith he could have teach you things he know now. also, he could be really philosophical and probably has a fixation with politics, investing. he could seem very patient or is constantly worried trying to understand how he can help you.

10H: your dad could be someone really hardworking, who you could have seen work really hard through all this years, making sure you’re satisfied in the economic and study aspect. he could have not been present too much when you were growing up and when he showed up he was too strict, he probably wasn’t conscious or didn’t know how to approach you -could be bc they thought him to bottle up his emotions-. you could end up studying/working on the same career/field your dad’s in.

11H: your dad it’s okay with who you are, or what side you show to them🧐. you’re their fav or they left you. you could feel like the only child/you are. he could seem too disperse, take it how you want to. idk why but mostly of dads of sun 11H are younger than what’s expected. he’s permissive. you were a spoiled kid, that has to do with your dad. “dreams” that word is important, he had a lot of influence and power over yours, he could have destroyed them or making sure you have all the resources -depending on the aspects-.

12H: your dad won’t judge your decisions or you. he’ll be a support. he could have difficulties to put limits in a father-son relationship, you could have felt stressed when you’re seeing how your dad is being bullied by your siblings bc of that attitude. you could have being the one who is protecting them or you’re the more serious/introverted one in the dynamic. or the total opposite: he’s too strict and you had to be careful on how to act. there’s something that happened there… you two could share something obvious, an interest, physical appearance, an adjective, etc. something everyone can point out. also, you could feel a strong or subconscious connection with your dad’s sight of the family.

5H: idk why I have the feeling you didn’t saw your dad for a long time and then you saw him, I’m trying to express that your relationship with him it’s not constant. he could be explosive or impulsive. he could contradict himself so much. he could have had you without planning it/unexpected -you were a surprise for him 🤩-. could be that your parents were young when they had you and etc. that’s why you’re like an experiment 😭 your dad doesn’t know how to approach you and he has a temperament. emotions here are fiery, when each other express their emotions they don’t take a seat and have a chat with a cup of tea, they’ll say how they feel crying and screaming.

6H: your dad could have OCD, no, I’m lying, but he could be really fucked up about order. “thinks have to be like this, why you didn’t let me this at this time?” Or the total opposite, not in the middle. he could get sticker in his routine and if things are not how he planned he get stressed. a perfectionist. he could be strict or conservative. he’s sarcastic, that’s why you could be sarcastic too. he’s hardworking and also could help on campaigns and etc. at some point you could have helped him on working on his health. and you could be the one who end up taking care of him/being the sibling who spends more time with him.

♡ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[miguelhugger2099]

Hello! I’m not exactly sure if you’re taking requests right now but if you’re not then you can just ignore this lol

Would you be comfortable with doing a fem reader x subby miguel? Maybe he’s tired from all his work or he’s just willing to try out whatever she wants, but if you could make him very easily flustered by the reader too i think it would be super cute haha. Also maybe if you could add a lot of body worship? (Reader worshiping Miguel’s body lol, praising him and telling him how handsome/gorgeous he is, etc.)

I’m in love with your writing and your first smut that you wrote was SO good I knew I had to make a request. Your writing is honestly so good and I love how you write miguel!! 🫶🫶🫶

Melting

hehe this ask is super cute !! of course im comfortable w it i’d kiss the ground he walks on if i could !!!! Miguelito deserves so much love and relaxation <3 thank you thank you soso much for the kind words <3333 giggling and twirling my hair i was so sure i’d get clowned in the comments LMFAO but i’m so happy people really liked my first smut haha Thank you for the ask nonie ml and i really tried with this one </3 Sub!Miguel x Fem!Reader, Smut, Word Count: 4,451 And yes my requests are open ! c:

You often saw Miguel cramped in his home office, slouched in his chair as he gazed at the dimmed yellow monitors. If he wasn’t out doing his part as Spider-Man, he was home reviewing and watching the multiverse for hours and hours on end. You felt helpless watching him work to exhaustion and to a point where you had to help his half-asleep form back to bed with you.

At first, you tried to alleviate that stress by making him food. You’d make his favorites and freshly made too so you could then pop by his office or HQ to deliver it with a warm smile.

“Gracias, preciosa.” He’d murmur against your temple after giving it a small kiss. You beamed up at him and your chest swelled hearing the slight relaxed tone in his voice. Miguel tucked your hair back and gave you a small smile of his own, the yellow hue of the monitors enhanced the eyebags and tired look on his face. You’d offer to stay with him but he’d always refuse.

“Go home, mami. It’s nothing you should concern yourself about.” He placed the containers down on a nearby counter.

“I just wanna help, Miggy.” You frowned, reaching up to cup his face. Miguel felt his heart flutter from your touch and he pushed down the feeling of heat crawling up his cheeks.

He took your hands off his face, choosing to hold them in his own hands. “I know you do, mama, but I’ve got it. I can handle this. I’m used to it.” He tried reassuring you, squeezing your hand.

You squeezed back. “Just because you’re used to it, doesn’t make it right,” You protested and Miguel chuckled. “Let me help.” You offered again.

“No, I’ll be home tonight.” He let go of your hands and gently ushered you out. You let him with a pout on your face and before you two went your separate ways, you faced him.

“I love you.” You whisper. Miguel’s face melts into a gentle look, his hand tilting your chin up.

“Te quiero más que nada.” He leans down to peck your lips, lingering for a little while longer and then sending you on your way.

The next thing you tried was to be as cuddly as possible. Despite Miguel’s brooding persona and bulky frame, he was really just a softie inside. He’d never admit it or even show a glimpse of that side to anyone else, but when he came home weary and sleepy, his guard would drop tenfold after seeing you.

So here he was, trudging along inside the penthouse and dumping his body on your shared bed. You watched with a little bit of amusement and concern as Miguel took a deep breath and loudly sighed. You placed your holopad down and ran your fingers through his hair, making him moan in delight and lean into your touch. You tucked your legs underneath you and helped Miguel place his head on your lap. His arms wrapped around your waist and he nuzzled closer to your stomach.

“Rough day?” You asked gently. Miguel managed to grunt in response, his hands running under your shirt to feel more of your skin. You turned his head to the side and caressed his cheek with your finger. Your other hand still combed through his wavy locks, carefully detangling the strands and finding more gray hairs. “Pobrecito.” You cooed. Your fingernails scratched his scalp and you felt his breathing gradually slow down. You smiled down at him with his eyes closed, the stress lines on his forehead and eyebrows had lifted up which made him look more peaceful.

Miguel woke up with a start, his eyes opening suddenly and groaning as he got up from your lap. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and face. “Sorry, mami, I didn’t mean to, uh…sleep on you.” He sighed. You placed your hands on his forearms.

“No, no, no disculpes,” You shake your head with a worried tone. You reached up to help push back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “You’re tired. Come sleep, baby.” You tugged on his hand but Miguel shook his head.

“No, you’ve done more than enough. I have to get back to work.” He mumbled, bringing you in his arms and kissing the crown of your head. He left another kiss to both your cheeks and finally to your lips. Before you could convince him to stay, he got up from the bed and his mask phased around his head, making his way out the window to start late night patrol.

You watched his retreating figure swing out the window with his webs and you felt your heart sink to your stomach. Miguel worked too hard and too much. He was going to stretch himself thin at this rate.

So, you decided enough was enough. You were going to help Miguel relax whether he liked it or not.

Like usual, Miguel came home with heavy footsteps, yawning as he entered the bedroom. You watched as his suit materialized off of him and left him just in his boxers. He greeted you with a kiss to your temple. “I’m home, bebé.” He murmured before he sat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his knees and stretching side to side. He turned his back and you both heard a small pop from cracking it. Miguel groaned and rubbed the back of his neck and his shoulders.

You approached behind him, placing your hands on the sides of his arms. You kissed the back of his neck which made him shiver. “Tense?” You asked.

Miguel tried shaking his head, not wanting to bother you. “No, no, I’m okay.” But your hands continued to roam, sliding up his shoulders. You applied slight pressure where you felt a knot and Miguel moaned, his head hanging.

You smiled. “Mhm, yeah sure,” You teased. You leaned over him and kissed his cheek and you saw Miguel with his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed–embarrassed at being caught red handed. “You work so hard, baby. Let me take care of it tonight, hm?” You pressed another kiss to his ear, feeling a bit of heat radiating off it. The palm of your hand dug into a knot again and Miguel groaned.

With his cheeks a little flushed, he nodded. “Okay, okay…Fine.” In that moment, you began roaming your hands around his back, riding them up onto his shoulders and he visibly relaxed in your arms. You kept at that motion, just innocently massaging him and kneading out the tense muscles from his poor worn out body. Miguels’s eyes stayed closed with the occasional groan and hiss when you successfully eased that tension.

After finishing on the top, you trailed down the curve of his waist, which Miguel stiffened at. You glanced up and saw the tips of his ears darken. “So pretty.” You murmured. Your thumbs rubbed and dug into his skin in a caressing motion at his waist while you pressed a kiss at the back of his jawline. Miguel ever so quietly, let out a small whimper and the two of you stopped moving.

“Did you–”

“Thank you, mami, but that’s enough.” He spoke over you, turning his head away to hide his burning cheeks. He stayed facing away from you, preparing to get under the covers while you sat still and processed.

Before he could get under the covers, you stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Miguel, no, it’s okay! I wasn’t expecting it is all–”

You pulled his arms back to make him turn around and face you. The words on your lips cutting off when you scanned his dark red cheeks. It was hard to tell with only the moon as a source of light and his naturally tanned skin, but you saw just enough of the red hue across his face and the way his eyes still turned to the side to not meet yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion on why he was so embarrassed when you took a double take at the bulge growing in his boxers.

“Miguel–”

“Amor, can we just please go to sleep–”

“Miguel–”

“We don’t need to do anything and it’s late. We’re both tired, so–”

“Miguel.” You said firmly, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. Miguel pursed his pouty lips, his eyes barely containing his embarrassment as he glanced down at you.

You held his flushed gaze with your firm one. “Let me take care of you tonight.” Miguel’s lips parted slightly, feeling small under your intense gaze that slowly gained desire in them. He let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest before nodding.

His hands lifted up and were about to grab your waist before you stopped him again, your hands falling from his face.

“Tonight’s about you, Miguel.” You placed your hands on his chest and his mouth shut closed, gulping nervously.

He nodded wordlessly again, letting you take control and pushing him gently on his back into the soft pillows. Miguel stared up at you as you climbed on top of him, a goddess in the flesh, and his heart pounded loudly. The blood flowed through his body to make him hot and straight down to his groin where his cock strained against the fabric.

You leaned over him, capturing his lips with yours and he sighed against your cheeks, his hands immediately finding the flesh of your waist and gripping tightly. Your hands made quick work to roam his body, feeling the ridges of his pecs and down to his abs. He moaned softly, tight stomach tensing when your feathery touch grazed his skin. You heard Miguel whimper when you continued to feel his stomach, feeling the very small pudge of skin that he had started to gain after not being to work out as often.

You separated your lips from his and he subconsciously reached for you again. Miguel’s eyes opened with a desired haze to them even as you began to kiss down his neck and collarbone. He tilted his head up, feeling your soft lips brush against his hot skin and you could just barely hear the beating of his heart. He gripped your waist tighter, holding onto you for a sense of reality.

“Such a gorgeous body. All mine.” You mumbled against him. Miguel shivered, his heart stuttering in his chest. Your teeth gently bit into his neck, suckling and licking to give him a pretty purple mark. Miguel gasped before shutting his mouth shut to hinder his moans, but his legs shook and he bucked his hips up to your core.

Giving into his neediness, you grinded down on his cock, the two of you moaning at the friction that only fueled the fire. “You’ll let me love such a pretty man like you, hm?” You kissed his ear and then moved downwards again, your breath grazing over his nipples which made him whine.

“Haah, yes, yes, please…” He huffed, stumbling over his words and murmured your name like a prayer as he felt you leave hot kisses down his body.

You gently pulled down his boxers, watching his cock spring up and leak a bead of pre-cum over his tip. You lips kissed his tip which made Miguel whine and stiffen, his hands itching to push your head down but he was just too embarrassed still. You used your hand to grasp him and give an experimental stroke.

“Ay, Dios…” He choked out, arching his back and gripping the sheets tightly in his fists. “Wait, wait, wait…” He whined, writhing beneath you but you only shushed him by kissing his abdomen. Miguel’s body was already shaking and sweating, hot and bothered by a simple touch of your hand.

“What? What is it, baby?” You purred and began stroking him up and down slowly. His eyes rolled back, bucking his hips in time with the pumps and he moaned your name. Miguel's talons ripped through the fabric while he lolled his head to the side and breathed heavily. His fangs dug into his bottom lip, piercing the skin and a dribble of blood leaked out which he lapped up with his tongue. “Do you like it when I touch you like this? Do you want it faster?” You sped up a notch which made him choke. “Harder?” You teased, twisting your hand and made Miguel jolt with pleasure.

“Fuck, mami…” Miguel whimpered, thrusting into your hand with a desperate plea for more. He swung his arm over his eyes with his head tilted back and his mouth parted open. His plump lips quivering with each breath he took.

His squirming and whining made your eyes light up, a rush of heat running straight to your cunt when he called you mami oh so sweetly. “I love the sounds you make.” You praised. “The way you throb in my hand, the way I can tell that pretty mouth of you wants to moan louder.”

Miguel quickly shut his mouth, blushing darker and keeping his arm over his eyes, hoping you wouldn’t see how close he was to cumming so soon. He knew he couldn’t hide for long, you had him in the palm of your hand, literally and figuratively. You tutted softly, stopping your movement which Miguel gasped at the loss of it and losing the bubbling ecstasy. “Move your eyes, amor. I want to see you.”

He inhaled and exhaled a few weak breaths before lowering his arm down at his side. You gleamed up at him when your eyes met his scarlet eyes accompanied with the same delicious color on his cheeks. His eyes darted around your face, slightly unfocused and still very much aroused.

“Hi, beautiful.” You smiled and leaned up to kiss him which he reciprocated with quivering lips. When you pulled away, he smiled up at you bashfully.

“Hi.” He whispered back, his heart swelling with love for you.

You kissed his cheek once and then moved back down to face his painfully hard cock. You glanced up at him and Miguel felt his heart skip a beat at the eye contact.

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?” You held his thighs and felt the smoothness of his skin. Miguel nodded, though he knew you didn’t really have to ask since he was already bewitched by you.

You lowered your head and gave a small kitten lick to the slit on his tip and licked up the dribble of precum that had fallen down his shaft. He hissed and forced himself still to not fuck your mouth immediately. His legs spread further apart and gave you more access to his needy cock that twitched with every small lick of your tongue.

He watched as you wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked softly, Miguel’s hand finding your hair and gripping the strands tightly. He groaned and began panting heavily. “Shit, shit…”

You flattened your tongue under him and slid more of his inches in your warm, wet mouth, careful to properly take him down your throat.

“Fuck!” He cried out when his tip bumped against the back of your throat. His thighs tenses up and nearly squeezed your head between his legs. The saliva building up in your mouth coated his cock and ensued a lewd and erotic sound of slurping and sucking. Miguel, barely holding onto his sanity, yanked your hair by accident and he spewed mumbles of apologies before being cut off by his own sounds of pleasure.

You didn’t mind the pain. It only sent a wave of pleasure through your body and you felt yourself become wetter by the second. You could get off just by his cute moans and whimpers, succumbing to your mouth and tongue. You bobbed your head up and down with his hand helping you, occasionally taking all of him with your nose pressed up against the tuft of pubes which made Miguel sob and thrust into your eager mouth. “Please, please, please…!” He cried.

You moaned around him, your tongue swirling and tasting his musk and precum, your own hips wiggling around to feel something but you had enough sense to focus on Miguel’s pleasure first and foremost. His pleasure was your pleasure. Your hands felt up and down his waist, feeling the curve of it before going back to his meaty thighs. Your moans were added as vibrations to his cock and Miguel squirmed, his eyes glassy and his mouth continued to beg and plead.

“Más, mami, porfa–Oh, god,” He groaned, shuddering when your nails raked across his inner thighs. He felt his balls tighten up and his cock twitching in your mouth, almost reaching his peak. Your nails then dug into his skin, making sure Miguel wouldn’t pull you off. “Fuck, i’m so close–I’m gonna cum..” He choked out. His hand in your hair tried to tug you off but you held your ground. Your mouth continues to work, wet slurping and sucking loudly with his throbbing dick coated in a mix of his cum and your spit. Miguel took a hesitant look down at the erotic scene of your pretty face and wide eyes looking up at him while you slobbered over his thick length made him burst the bubble in his stomach.

Miguel let out a loud groan, bucking his hips up further in your mouth, his tip pressing the back of your mouth and spurting his hot strings of cum. He stilled in your mouth, twitching as a few more final ropes shot down your throat and his heart beating loudly in his ears. He pushed your head down as you swallowed as much as you could and the amount you couldn’t, dribbled out from the corner of your lips and down on his shaft and thighs. His face scrunched up and then his eyes rolled back when he felt you suckling the rest of his essence he had to offer. “S-stop…” He whined.

Instead of stopping, you gulped the rest of him down and licked him clean, sliding off him with a wet pop. You licked your lips and kissed his softening cock and watched him slowly come down from the clouds. Miguel’s body laid limp against the pillows, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths and sweat glistening his perfect body. He blinked slowly, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling in a daze. When he gained a bit of his mind back, he screwed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands. His post-coital clarity made him feel extremely embarrassed at how lost he got in it, cumming in your mouth like that. He felt his cheeks burn, the heat of it prickling the nerves in his system.

Miguel felt your hands move his from his face. He only became more flustered seeing the dribble of his white cream by your chin and your teasing smile. “You look so perfect when you cum, baby.” You purred.

Miguel turned away, his eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t say things like that..” He mumbled but you knew his heart skipped a beat whenever you spoke so fondly of him.

“Don’t be like that,” You pouted, tilting your head. Your fingernails grazed across his chest leaving goosebumps in your wake. “You know I could never get enough of you,” You felt around his warm skin, tilting his chin to face you again. “I can’t help but want more when you look so cute.” Miguel didn’t respond but it was just because he was holding back another whimper but he felt his cock twitch from your words. He gulped and your grin widened, crawling in his lap.

With you on top of him, even though you have been so kind and sweet to him this whole night, he always thought you were more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. So he let your hands wander after straddling him again. “God, you’re perfect.” You whispered, your hand resting on his chest, tracing the scars scattered across him. Miguel held onto your waist again, gently guiding your clothed pussy over his growing erection. Your praise was music to his ears even if he couldn’t admit it with words. He found joy in knowing you desired him and craved him especially with how you never seemed to stop touching his muscles and chest.

You lifted your bottom up to slip your panties off, Miguel watching as you tossed it to the side. You lifted your tank top off and revealed your breasts to him, his pupils blown wide. His hand lifted up your body and cupped one in his palm, squeezing it gently. His thumb swiped across your perked nipples and you moaned softly, arching further into his touch. Your sweet sounds of pleasure made blood rush straight to his dick and he let go of your tit to cup the back of your head and bring you down for a passionate kiss.

You both moaned into the kiss, both of you also grinding on each other, his cock slipping between your folds and coating himself with your wetness. “I love you.” You mumbled against his lips. Miguel wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you closer, his tongue slipping through your mouth to find yours.

“I love you.” He groaned back. In the midst of all this, he helped you sink down on his now hard cock. You mewled when his fat tip split you in half, sliding into your warm, velvety walls. Miguel whined and separated from your lips to dig his fangs into your neck. You squealed and clutched onto his shoulders tightly while he continued to stuff you full with his girth.

“Fuck, yes…” You moaned, finally feeling him inside you and stretching you to fit all of him. You wasted no time in moving your hips and grinding your clit on him. Miguel took his fangs out of your neck, gently sucking and licking the spot he had bit you as little apologies for causing you pain. But you were blinded with lust, pushing yourself up with your new freedom to press your hands on his chest as leverage while you bounced on him.

Miguel grit his teeth and his talons pricked your skin when he grabbed your hips. His mind became jelly once more, even worse with your tight cunt wrapped around him so snugly. He bucked his hips up to meet your bouncing and made your tits jiggle with every thrust. He couldn’t help but reach up again and play with your nipples, tweaking them and pulling on them. You arched your back and clenched around him, another gush of pleasure coating his already drenched cock. You hung your head, strays of your hair sticking to your face from sweat while the wet slapping of skin reverberates around the bedroom.

“You feel so good, god–Miguel…” You moaned, raking your nails down his chest, cupping his slim waist. Miguel whimpered, becoming putty underneath you while you slammed yourself onto him. “Perfect body, perfect lips, perfect cock–ah!” You choked out, your voice shaking as you succumbed to the feeling of desire.

Miguel’s face scrunched up in pleasure, huffing and sobbing as he chased that same high he had when you were taking his entire length down your throat. The image reappearing in his mind and his cock twitched violently inside you, smacking up against that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars.

“I’m gonna cum again, mama…” He slurred. He should’ve expected this. He was still so sensitive after you gave him a blowjob. You just looked so good, he wanted to be inside you–embarrassingly desperate as it was. He felt tears prick his eyes, whether from lust or shame he didn’t know. “You just feel so good.” He tilted his head to the side and back against the pillow, his eyes shut as he focused on the way you clenched so perfectly around him–your pussy stretched to the perfect size of his dick.

“It’s okay, baby, I know, I know,” You whined through the sounds of lewd squelching between your bodies. You leaned over him again, your breasts pressing and rubbing against his chest while you rode him faster which made Miguel clutch at your back. His large arms surrounded you while pathetically thrusting up into you even while his hips stuttered every moment. Your hands curled through his hair and you rested your forehead on his, half-lidded eyes watching him chase his pleasure.

“C’mon, cum. I can feel you, you’re so close, yeah? It’s okay baby, let go. I’m right here, pretty boy.” You panted and Miguel’s back arched up at the pet name, finally blowing his load into you. You couldn’t tell whether his nails or talons scratched your back but you welcomed it all the same, grinding on him to prolong his orgasm and reach yours. Miguel sobbed your name while he was pumping the rest of himself in you, your pussy clamping down on him as you came with a squeal. He was an absolute mess, sweating, heaving and shaking while you convulsed around him and milked him dry.

You fell on top of him and your bodies relaxed again with his hands weakly on your hips and your hands around his head. You buried yourself in the crook of his neck, blinking at the purple and red marks you planted on his skin. Eventually your breathing slowed down enough to speak again. You lifted your head up slightly to see Miguel’s eyes were still shut but his mouth was still open and regaining stability.

“Are you relaxed?” You huffed. Miguel barely opened his eyes to glide his eyes towards you. The flushed color on his face was returning back to his normal color slowly and he swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing in motion.

“More than relaxed, Christ.” He groaned, his eyes closing again for a moment before turning to look at you again. “Thank you…for that…” He mumbled.

You smiled. “Of course. I said I’d take care of you.” You nuzzled against his cheek and he nodded.

“Yeah… Yeah, I know. That too but also that, um…” He hesitated. “The nice things you said…during…it…” He looked away, the red color returning to his cheeks. You stood up on your elbow with a growing grin.

“What? You mean when I said your body’s perfect? Or when I call you pretty? Or maybe when I tell you I’m glad you’re mine.” You leaned in closer while Miguel leaned back trying to turn away from your teasing, but you knew better.

Especially when you felt him twitching inside you.

A/N: im really nervous about this one i dont think i did that well

[celestialtarot11]

Small astro observations ☕️🤍

• Those with cancer moon in the 1st house come across “witchy,” some may even describe them as moody or reserved. There’s a certain kind of witchyness in them that I like 👀 my best friend has this placement, and she knows how to read peoples energy just by looking at them. I believe that’s her source of witchyness.

• She also has a youthful, round face. Being ruled by moon, her features are softer and delicate.

• Also, her moon is in Leo. This astrological polarity creates lots of unique sides in the native. Other people may think of these sides as “contradictory,” but the native can be very deep as a person. They explore all parts of themselves, and if they haven’t, part of their mission in their lifetime is to embrace all aspects of themselves, regardless of what others think.

• Jupiter in Leo people don’t chase that bag 💅🏻 they CREATE. They do enjoy when others buy things for them and when men especially (if the woman has this placement) provide for them financially. Men with this placement don’t like to rely on others for money, their pride comes with having a lot of money under their belt.

• Pluto in the 2nd house goes through radical financial changes. Whether that’s due to an issue with being careless with their money, to an event happening outside of them that causes them to struggle financially. The native does not feel secure financially and feels worried. Depending on the aspects in the natives chart, they can attract abundance just as easily as they lost their bag 💅🏻

• Earth mercuries and leaving their phone on DND, or ignoring notifications to preserve their peace 😌👋 hi ya’ll.

• A capricorns loyalty is not one to be messed with, especially if the native has healed past wounds, and is self aware. They have the ability to hold themselves accountable and do better. However, I’ve noticed capricorns who haven’t worked through their past issues have no problem leaving you to struggle, and only coming back when they need help.

• Male capricorns, if your father figure was not structured and present emotionally, do yourself a favor and go to therapy ☕️🤷🏻‍♀️ it’ll help you tons. Especially those with Saturn retrograde in the chart, because Saturn represents the father. If the natives sun placement is afflicted, the same applies here.

• I knew a guy with Saturn in the 10th house retrograde definitely had daddy issues growing up, and still does. The father relies on his child to be cared for, instead of the other way around. The father finds himself struggling to provide basic living, so the child takes on the stress of providing for the parent at a young age.

• Virgo placements & libra…what’s up with wanting to be hidden? I’ve met a man who at the time was struggling mentally, was borderline checking out of reality. He couldn’t hold a proper conversation without his head being lost in some far land 🤣 every topic was too vague, and too abstract for it to make sense. And as soon as I asked his placement and guessed it correctly, he gave me a look and said he didn’t like what I knew of him. He was bothered and seen 👀

• Virgo venus, ya’ll females are so beautiful. Even though venus doesn’t like it here, there’s something so beautiful, and effortless about these individuals. They may have a mature look depending on their other placements, and aspects.

Thats all I have! Thank you all for reading and supporting 👋☺️ this was fun to create. Feel free to add on and share your thoughts!

Book a reading with me here 🤍