#this is the best ask i’ve ever received ever. i literally can’t even begin to express how over the moon i am.

[oldbutchdaniel]

your rpf posting has worn me down enough for that link you posted to be the first rpf fic i ever read. now i need to get into contact with management at big rpf to get you promoted because i had a great time

us right now and i’m not joking

[panbotter]

Hey so in reference to my previous ask, can you do one were the reader is having trouble controlling their powers (you can decide those) and either Kurt or Erik comfort them after a bad day and end up confessing to the reader. You can ad smut if you want but if not that's totally fine too☺️.

Your Existence is Grand

Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader

Erik notices you having a rough day with your powers and decides to shower you with praise.

(This is my first fanfic literally ever so feedback appreciated, but also... Sorry for any mistakes!!!!)

Trigger warnings: cursing, suggestive themes (I don't know what else to write here, pls let me know if there's anything else I should add!)

The air around me begins buzzing and crackling, becoming charged with electricity and I sigh, deeply frustrated before I reach for the metal doorknob in front of me and receive a shock so strong that all the muscles in my arm cramp up painfully. I curse under my breath, forcing my arm to bend and stretch the tense muscles as I walk into the lounge, getting a glimpse of the others outside. Some might say I’d been gifted with a particularly powerful mutation, that it made me strong and intimidating. That I am admired for it, as if it’s a blessing to be grateful for.

But in this god-forsaken world, all I could see was a curse that plagued my body. I never bothered to understand the science behind it, as much as others might have tried to explain it to me. Something about the electricity in my body behaving abnormally, affecting the air around me and in turn, other electronics or conductors of electricity, turning me into a walking hazard around power lines, or thunderstorms. Let's not even mention the sheer amount of electrical fires I’ve caused. Sure, it sounds cool. But the reality is basically hell.

One of the ‘best’ parts about my mutation is that it is terribly unstable, especially when you’re constantly surrounded by electricity no matter where you go. Everyone else who charges up some static then touches a piece of metal receives a little sting from a silly little shock. It might be a little funny or perhaps surprising! Maybe it happens when you touch fingers with someone else and you shock each other, what a cute moment!

Try getting fucking electrocuted every single time.

Nowhere near as cute, nor as fun.

Some days are worse than others and the more restless I become, the worse it is for me in the end. But unfortunately, I can’t lay in bed immobile for an entire day to lower the voltage my body is producing, resulting in my current conundrum. Avoiding the rest of the X-Men in order to avoid any potential accidents, especially with Jubilee. Fireworks and a highly-charged mutant body surrounded by a bunch of high-tech only spells out bad news. Luckily, it seems like most of them were outside on the basketball court. That’s what I thought, at least.

“I take it you’re having a bad voltage day?” the voice of none other than Magneto startles me out of my thinking. It’s been more than a few months of him living here with us, but his presence is still unexpected. I had a hard time training the knee-jerk defensive reaction out of my body for the first few days, my body becoming charged up so quickly that I wouldn’t even have the chance to blink before I shot a bolt of electricity at him.

He was quick to show that a little spark didn’t do much to him, given that he was essentially a walking magnetic field.

I turn to him, his large form standing at the entrance to the lounge, “What makes you say that?” I turn back to watch as Scott and Logan start another argument, their voices muffled by the glass.

“The air keeps crackling and I have a hard time believing there’s a storm inside the building” he approaches until he pauses at my side. I chuckle a little, giving a wince once I feel my sore muscles constrict. He turns to watch me.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe Storm has had enough of those two at each other’s throats” I try to joke but my voice falters, as my heart begins to race again and the sound of the air buzzing around me becomes overwhelming. Tremors begin rippling across my muscles, a mixture of them cramping and relaxing too fast for me to keep up with. Losing the strength in my legs, I stretch a hand out toward the glass in front of me to hold myself up but I miss the glass by a couple inches. Erik’s hands are quick to grab onto my arms before pulling me into his chest, supporting my weight as the crackling noise fills my ears and I let out a pained shout. My body releases a strong burst of electricity, most of it absorbed by Erik’s magnetic field, whilst the rest causes the power in the building to go out. I pant loudly, trying to catch my breath, feeling like my heart might’ve stopped in the middle of that.

The lights flicker around us before the power in the school hums back to life. Erik’s hands are still around me, I realize before beginning to step away, but his hold on me tightens. He pulls me back against his chest and I try to fight back the heat that’s slowly creeping up to my face. This is a bit embarrassing. I’ll admit it, I had grown to like Erik in the time he’d been with us, not to mention I had quite a few run-ins with him before I ever joined the X-Men. He always seemed so… Powerful, he always felt safe to be around. As radical as the Professor may claim he is, he always seemed… Right. You could hear the passion in his voice when he spoke of mutantkind and it made you want to side with him, to be loyal and to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

He had a powerful presence, and as I am now discovering, a powerful touch. One of the very few people who could come near me without fear of being electrocuted. My muscles had begun to twitch in the aftermath of the shock. These are the unfortunate moments where I wish I could be rid of my mutation. I could barely hold myself up and here I was in Erik’s arms.

“You should be resting” his voice was stern, but there was a hint of concern in there. I raise my gaze to meet his, feeling a bit of shame.

“I can’t just lay in bed all day, the world is still turning, there’s things to do…” I muttered.

“Precisely, the world is still turning and it will still continue to turn if you are at rest. You, on the other hand, are not a planet and you need to care for yourself”

I stare into his eyes, feeling them pierce through my soul. He always seemed to be right about everything… I chuckle under my breath as I regain some strength in my legs, straightening back up.

“I’m sure you must be tired of having to run after all of us like a babysitter” I joke as his arms come to rest on my shoulders once I’m stable on my feet.

A glint crosses his eyes, “I do wonder how Charles managed, and then I remember he’s a telepath, so it must’ve been quite easy for him” he replies with a smirk gracing his face that makes me laugh a little.

“He still struggled, you shouldn’t compare yourself to the Professor”

He begins to lead me toward the couch behind us, helping me take a seat before joining me. I still feel a hot streak of shame across my stomach, having him help me. Burdening him.

“Sorry, by the way… You’re right, I should be a little more considerate of others” I mutter.

Erik turns to look at me as I avoid making eye contact, “I don’t believe those were my words…” his hand reaches out toward my chin, gently turning my head to face him, “I only ask of you to rest and care for yourself, forget what the others may think”

I blinked up at him, “The Professor always wanted me to push past my limits, so that I can perhaps get stronger… Control my powers better”

“In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to restrict your abilities, you could rule this planet with a wave of your hand, what you have is something to be proud of, not ashamed” he places his hand against my cheek and I find myself leaning against his warm touch, “Your mutation is a blessing, not a curse”

I scoff, “Sure doesn’t feel that way, I can’t even live among humans without shutting down an entire city’s power”

“Your powers shouldn’t be hidden, controlled, or restricted for the sake of humanity” he says the word with disdain, “but those are my beliefs, your existence is grand mein liebling”

My heart thumps against my chest loudly at his words. It feels… Intimate. How could he speak such high praise toward me?

“I see you hurt and I watch as you restrain yourself around others, as your mutation basically eats your body alive and it pains me…” his eyes gaze across my face, pausing at my lips before trailing back up to my eyes, “It pains me that you live in a world where you feel you cannot rest, where you feel you must hide the power within you”

“Erik…” I whisper, almost afraid to shatter the moment between us, “What are you… What are you saying…?” I peer into his eyes, seeing something brewing behind his gaze. Could it be possible that he’s… No, there’s no way.

“What do you believe I’m saying?” he whispers softly, leaning in toward me. I jump as a few sparks fly out from where he has his hand on my cheek. I can’t help my eyes dropping to his lips before rising back up to his eyes.

I feel the tension rise and in a desperate attempt to avoid it, I joke, “If I was delusional, I might think you’re trying to confess to me right now” I laugh a little to dispel the tension. His gaze was still just as intense so I failed, but I tried my best.

A smile graced his features, “Yes… Perhaps if you were delusional, you might see that I am actually confessing my feelings for you right now” he says it so casually I almost think he’s playing along with my joke, but as my eyes widen, so does his smile.

“Are you…?” my voice wavers a little. I feel my heart drop, realizing he’s probably joking with me. I turn away from his hand, lightly pushing his chest to put distance between us.

“Is this some sort of joke? Come on, Erik… You know that’s… It’s unrealistic” I mutter, a man like him would never love someone like me, that’s not how it works… Maybe in the movies, or in a fairytale perhaps.

“Mein liebling, perhaps I haven’t been clear enough with you” he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close, closer than before, “do you prefer a visual demonstration instead? I can give you that, you only need to ask” he smiles before slowly leaning in, giving me enough time to back out if I wished, but I find myself leaning in, eager to feel his lips against mine.

As soon as our lips locked together, sealed at last, a burst of electric sparks flew out from our lips and I giggled into the kiss. I mean, how ironic is that? I felt real, literal sparks and fireworks from the kiss and it made my lips tingly. Erik smiles into the kiss before deepening it, his hand rising up toward my hair while the other trailed down my back and I found myself desperate to be closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, clumsily climbing over to sit on his lap. We part right as I begin losing my breath and he trails a burning, tingly trail of kisses down my jaw before he stops by my ear.

With a whisper that blew across the nape of my neck, “I see more than just greatness in you, so much more…” The words are charged with intention, passion, and sincerity. I shudder as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I bite back a moan as he continues kissing down my neck. I take a sharp breath in as he begins sucking on a tender spot before I suddenly realize what we’re doing…

Where we’re doing it.

I turn slightly to peek at the windows, making sure the others are still thoroughly distracted with playing before I feel Erik bite my skin and a moan breaks out, “Wait! Erik… We’re… In the lounge…”

He lifts his head, and the dark look in his blue eyes makes me clench my legs in anticipation, “We’ll just have to be fast… And quiet… Can you do that?” He taunts me with a question I don’t even get the chance to answer before he lays me down on the couch, climbing over me, “I’m just helping you relax, that’s not a sin, is it?” He looks down at me with a hungry gaze and I feel my cheeks burn.

“I guess not”

“Show me what else you can do with these sparks of yours”

[sorryimananti-romantic]

hi! i just wanted to come on here to firstly ask a question, then praise your work!

first, my question is what’s your writing process? whenever i try to write, i always end up getting distracted because i worry so much about how i start the story. should i begin with a line of dialogue? should i start with a rhetorical question/vague backstory that leads into a character’s current situation? should i just start with action straight off the bat? i literally never know. there are some days where i get the inspiration to write all day, but i never end writing anything because i get stuck on the intro or research.

i even have a document with the first few paragraphs of multiple works that i like just to see how these wonderful pieces start. one document of mine is like one page long and it’s only filled with possible intros. LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE!! and they’re all so different from each other! yours always lead into the story so well and they’re never the same, so i applaud you!

anyways, onto your well deserved praise! you are literally the only writer on this site that i genuinely look forward to. when you released guerilla, i literally squealed and i don’t do that. maybe a giggle here and there, but never a squeal. not only do you write long stories (which i personally prefer. 20k - 50k words? AND it’s good writing?? you deserve a kiss on the head from God himself!), but quality writing, good punctuation, no overused dialogue tags, badass reader characters, and always a happy ending. you’re truly a godsend! especially because of your happy endings (and badass reader character— emphasis on badass). there’s this one seonghwa piece that’s like over 50k words, but it doesn’t have a happy ending so i haven’t read it. for me, fiction should end with the reader being happy so if i won’t be happy at the end, i don’t want to read it. but that never happens with you. i’m sure i’ve read all your pieces at least once and i can positively say that i’m always smiling like an idiot after i finish.

overall, you’re a writer that i learn from and you’re writing is absolutely awesome. keep up the good work and make sure to take care of yourself! i may not know you personally, but that doesn’t mean i can’t think you deserve all the good things in the world for creating a universe that readers can get immersed in and forget about reality for some time. all for free at that too. you deserve the world and more. so does everyone else reading this though! can’t wait for your next release! you’re awesome!!

omygod. this has to be the best message i have ever received and i'm smiling so hard. i read this like three times before i came up with a few words to respond (if you know me, you also know i struggle with this ahaha 😭)

first of all, thank you so much for the praise, i can't tell you how much this means to me and this came at the right time- perhaps, you're godsend for me! (struggling with this one fic and i refuse to write anything else until i finish this one bc it's collected dust for far too long now). you squealed when you saw guerrilla? 😭 you prefer long stories? 😭 and you like happy endings? 😭😭 that's me yes ahaha

thank you so much, glad to have another person here who likes the length of my fics (bc of you all i have been physically unable to keep my oneshots short). i'm glad my writing style appeals to you! i know my english isn't perfect but thank you for appreciating it! one thing i refuse to write is a basic reader character (not that we don't like a basic reader character once in a while-- i just always gotta add a little sth 😭) (might write a basic reader soon tho ahaha) as for the happy endings, i do have a few tragedies planned for the year but you're absolutely right-- we love our happy endings. if i have to make sth tragic, it will be ending on a bittersweet, it-had-to-be-this-way note and i hope i can write it well and i hope you read that whenever i post it too! i'd love to hear what you think of it (it's far in the future but one day i will)

to answer your question, my writing process for a long time was literally just sit and write whatever's coming to me. most of my fics have been spontaneous like that-- sudden impulse, unplanned everything, just a general idea of the roles of the main characters and a basic idea of the plot-- not even the ending. i don't like to plan the ending, actually. i like to simply plan how it begins, what the key points are, and the ending comes naturally from there.

one thing i've started doing recently is just write my thoughts in a paragraph or bulletpoints (bc i have the memory of a goldfish) but it helps if you want to prefer planning and then writing. the most important advice i can give to anyone here is to not be afraid to write. literally write whatever you want, and do not be afraid to edit. or even rewrite. cannot stress this enough. i'll give an example:

with guerrilla, i had the trope: serial killer/doctor/biker yunho and crime fiction writer reader. no background of the characters. no ending in mind. simply that they were housemates, there will be dark humour involved and yunho will gradually warm up to the reader. that was literally all i had! when i opened the doc to write, i thought about how i would want it to start-- i think with intros, you gotta write sth that gives the readers a basic idea of where they are, why they are there, who they are, etc. and then you can continue the story, so you gotta shape the intro to attract their attention with a general idea, right? now i just went with the flow, wrote whatever i wanted to, and whenever i would add some detail, i would go back and edit it in- either in the form of dialogue or some foreshadowing (we love foreshadowing). when i thought of their tragic past? went back again to edit that in. so basically just a series of writing, editing what's written, cutting what looks unnecessary now, and voila.

so how should you start your story? depends on the story. sometimes, it needs to start with action when it's an action heavy plot, right? we would like to find ourselves in a middle of a fight or sth like that to set the tone immediately. so whatever the theme of your story is, you gotta set the tone in the first part! also, don't be afraid to start from wherever you want- you can always add parts later! like my series take me home-- i literally started from the middle and when i came up with a plot twist that supported what i wrote, i went back and wrote the first half LOL and then i planned the ending from there. i think readers also prefer if you don't add unnecessary details/scenes in the beginning, yeah? fillers are for inside the story, not in the beginning or the ending.

also, don't be afraid to experiment! write what you're the most comfortable writing, don't be too hung up on research and facts-- you can literally make anything up because it's fiction. it's your world and your rules. i literally make up whole new universes to save myself from the hassle of real-life technicalities (you may have noticed how i never use real places or setting lmao). if you have an idea that you really want to write, start with there, and simply, write. let the words flow, let it go wherever your mind takes you. you'll find your hands typing by themselves! you can worry about if it's good or not later, just write! (you won't believe me but as i'm finishing writing a fic, i begin to kind of hate it. no amount of reassurances convince me that it's good enough bc i am the writer. i still post and when i receive feedback, that's when i realise it might be good! and when some time has passed and i reread it, i'm sometimes amazed- i wrote that? how will i top that? and the cycle continues 😔✌️)

also, thank you for that sweet little msg at the end 🥹 literally sending my best to you. you deserve all the good things too! i'm glad you're able to get yourself lost in the universe i create for my fics, that means i'm doing a good job 🥹 thank you again! <33 i hope you won't be afraid to write and simply wing it LOL that's how i do it and you know what?

the most unplanned and spontaneous fics have been the most loved here.

[odaatlover]

I want to start T but I’m terrified of bottom growth. Reading your trans cole fics have made it sounds really awesome but I don’t know if I’ll like it. I think I might but I think it scares me that I can’t go back if I don’t like it since it’s there forever. Did you feel this way?

Hey there! I think this is common for a lot of people wanting to start T based on what I’ve seen, so you’re definitely not alone! For me personally bottom growth was a huge selling point because that area is the biggest point of dysphoria for me.

I’m gonna get a really personal here as I share my experiences, but when have I not gotten personal on this blog 😂 I’ve never in my life enjoyed penetration. And I don’t just mean I’ve always had trouble enjoying it, I mean I’ve always hated it so much that I’ve never even fully tried it. As a teen I tried fingering myself one time, and literally two seconds later I was like nope nope nope nuh uh NOPE. And never again has anything ever been in there. I just knew from early on that it wasn’t right for me and so I’ve always disassociated from that part of my body and pretended like it didn’t exist - as I still do today. I could only experience pleasure if I imagined I had a penis, and this is something that I’ve experienced literally from the very beginning of puberty. It’s all I’ve ever known. It’s like my brain tells me I’m supposed to have one, like it’s just so wired in me. How did I not know I was a trans guy? Beats me…I thought this was a common experience for girls and everyone just wished they had a penis 😂😅

Because of this mental disconnect from that part of my body, everything involving sex was a huge struggle for me. I could only use toys during solo times because it was easier to convince myself that way and actually touching myself would remind me that it wasn’t real. And when it came to sex with another person I never received, only gave. I had accepted that I’d never get to experience sex like people usually do, and I had made my peace with it.

So when I was discovering myself and doing research on testosterone and how it changed that area, I was shocked. I was like, is this real? Could this really happen? And it has really changed my life. I’m able to connect with my body in a way where before there was such this huge disconnect. I still struggle with dysphoria and sex, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was before. Eventually I want to get bottom surgery - currently leaning way more towards metoidioplasty — as I know that’s going to make it even better. But for now, bottom growth has really been one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I’m not as pissed off at the world 😂 Don’t get me wrong, I still envy cis guys and get pissed off about it sometimes, but now it’s only occasionally instead of 24/7 lol

So, it can definitely be pretty awesome. Especially if you’ve always wanted to have at least something down there. But if that’s not you, it’s really not that different because it won’t be huge you know? It all depends on your perspective. But I will say, you definitely do experience random boners, especially in like the first year. Of course nobody will be able to see it, but you can definitely feel it, and it can get very distracting and annoying. But over time it calms down more. That and having to wear boxers now are the main things I’ve had to get used to. And keeping it clean like uncircumcised cis guys do.

This was probably way more information than what you asked for, but I hope this helps!

[ineloqueent]

hey, tina! i know i'm literally YEARS late to the party, and you're not really as active as you used to be on here, but i genuinely NEED to tell you that starstruck absolutely changed the trajectory!!! of!!! my!!! life!!!

there's so much to say about your fic, i honestly don't even know where to start.

first of all, you're an absolutely brilliant writer!!<3 and when i tell you this is my new favourite fic OF ALL TIME i really mean it, and i've been reading fics for, i don't even know how many years, at this point??? :')

everything about starstruck is, to put it simply, PERFECT!!!🥹 your writing is so unique and descriptive, i could picture ALL of the scenes in my head perfectly. honestly, i'm genuinely convinced you're a genius, and it's safe to say i'm in awe!!!

as a slowburn enthusiast, startstruck is actually EVERYTHING to me— the yearning, the pining, the longing, it was so exquisitely written i don't think i'm ever recovering, it just hit me right in the feels??!!!?❤️‍🩹 i genuinely went through every emotion known to humankind, and it was the best experience of my life, and i'm NOT exaggerating. i don't think i've ever smiled this much, and don't get me started on how many times my heart literally melted!!! <33 i'm not going to lie, i cried my heart out when i finished reading it, because what do you mean one of the greatest pieces of literature i've ever read has an ending??? i'm still not over that, i must admit. :')

the banter, the interactions, the dialogue, and everyone's characterisation were so wonderfully crafted i'm still speechless, it's just THAT good. i genuinely couldn't stop reading, i literally had to restrain myself from binge reading the whole thing, because i wanted to savour it for as long as i could‼️

i adore this fic so much that i went as far as writing down some of my reactions, so i can go back and reminisce the magical experience that this fic is and now i have a folder in my notes dedicated to starstruck and starstruck only (as one should, obviously)!!!

okay, this little ask is turning out longer than i anticipated, but i swear i could literally go on forever🫶🏻 this fic literally changed me as a person, and i think about it all day everyday agh <3 you have no idea how much i appreciate you for sharing this work of art with us, simply no words can do it justice!! <33 i can't even begin to explain how much it means to me🥹

i hope you're doing amazing, because you truly deserve the world!♥️ sending you lots of love mwah🫶🏻

oh. oh my god. i don’t even know what to say. this might be the best ask i’ve ever received, wow 🥹

i can’t believe you took the time to write all this out to me!!!

my days of writing starstruck were some of my favourites; i can’t remember the last time i felt so inspired and just full of joy sitting down to write, so the fact that you loved starstruck so much means the absolute world to me!!!!

you flatter me so much, and i greatly appreciate your incredibly kind words about me and my writing.

i think that i will treasure all of these compliments forever. thank you ❤️

[mishibashimori]

Two Of Us || Cecil Stedman x Reader || Chapter 2 (Revised Version)

Synopsis: You are an alien who crash landed onto Earth. You have no name, and no more home to go back to. The Guardians of the Globe have rescued you and brought you to get intensive care under the great Cecil Stedman. In helping out your new home, Earth, will you develop a relationship with the coldest man you know?

General Info: AFAB Gender Neutral Reader, Cecil is Younger in the Beginning and it Will Lead to Current Events, Reader is a Bubbly Optimist, Reader Description is Intentionally Vague so You can Imagine the Alien Species They Are However You’d Like

TW: Verbal and Physical Past Abuse, Failed Pregnancy Mentions, Depression, Self Depreciation, Cannon Typical Violence, Eventual Sexual Content

Specific Chapter TW: (Specifically at the End in a Nightmare) Physical Child Abuse, Failed Pregnancy Alluded To, Traumatic Dream Sequence

—————————

Your healing process was going very well. When Cecil told you he had the best medical staff in the world, he definitely wasn’t lying. The doctors and nurses were very kind, helping you every step of the way, most times literally. You’ve been in physical therapy for about six weeks after healing for a few months, and the amount of support you’ve received is incredible. The wires were out of your jaw now, too, and it had healed up very well. It felt incredibly wonderful to be able to speak again, and taste Earth food— which was admittedly delicious.

Over the months The Guardians of the Globe would come to visit often and cheer you on. War Woman, who you learned is named Holly, started to warm up to you, showing you different exercises that would be good for your certain situation. Apparently she’s been in your boat quite a few times despite being a pretty powerful hero. It was definitely comforting to hear. Dark Wing had similar experiences, too, but he was a bit more reserved. You didn’t mind though, he didn’t have to be social.

Alana, Immortal, and Samson never had a shortage of stories or funny quips, making the whole ordeal a lot more entertaining, certainly. The amount of times you accidentally hurt yourself during PT by laughing too hard were more than you’d like to admit. Red Rush, or Josef, joined in from time to time too, but he was usually busy with other things. It was a shame, because he was quite entertaining when he wanted to be.

The chats with Martian and Aquarus were definitely something you found solace in. Having fellow aliens - one literally, the other more metaphorically - made you feel more welcome in the organization. It helped that they were very understanding of your reservations and anxieties about being in a whole different environment, as they had gone through it themselves.

Even Cecil would drop in from time to time, if just for a moment. Usually his conversations consisted of work, and what the plan was going forward, but there were a few brief, nice moments where the words between you two were genuine fun. You were talking to him now while trying to balance on your wobbly legs, a walker clutched in your hands for support.

“I can’t believe Jell-O,” you chirped, making your way slowly to one side of the room, “it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Cecil was staring at a tablet, tapping away at it busily. He glanced over at you, a slightly amused expression on his face, “you should try ice cream.”

“Do you have some here?” You asked excitedly.

“No, not in the hospital.” Cecil chuckled, “but you can get some tomorrow.”

You tilted your head in confusion, pausing your exercise to look at him, “why tomorrow?”

“You’ll be getting your own room. No more hospital bed.”

“Wow! Really? That’s so kind of— Whoa!” You leaned forward too far in your excitement, your hands slipping from the walker. It clattered to the floor as you fell forward. Cecil moved to catch you, but you caught yourself, flailing your arms frantically in a circle to regain balance. Once fully upright, you gave a small laugh. “I’m okay.” You leaned down carefully to grab the walker but Cecil beat you to it, setting it upright for you to lean on. Looking up at him, you gave a smile. “Thank you.”

He stepped back a few paces and cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable by the sudden closeness. “No problem.” The tablet in Cecil’s hand gave a frantic beeping, catching his attention. He gave a sigh and glanced at you. “I have to go. Me or one of my men will show you to your room tomorrow.”

“I hope it’s you.” You stated, unfazed by Cecil’s startled expression. “I like talking to you.” You’ve noticed humans aren’t as straightforward as they should be, especially with feelings. Unlike your species, they like to dance around subjects, or say one thing and inadvertently mean something completely different. It gave you a headache.

Cecil gave an awkward smile, and you could see his cheeks flush a bit. A sign of human embarrassment, you learned. “You really wear your thoughts on your sleeve, don’t you?”

“But I’m not wearing sleeves.” You responded, puzzled. This only made him laugh, a genuine one you hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re in a good mood today. I’m glad.”

“Yeah, well,” Cecil rubbed the back of his neck, “it’s uh, it’s been a good day.” His eyes sparkled a bit as he gazed at you. A rush of delight ran down your spine. All you could think of was how blue his eyes are.

Seemingly snapping out of a daze, Cecil turned and walked quickly towards the door, looking back briefly to say a short goodbye before disappearing. You stared after him for a moment, smiling, before continuing with your walking exercises.

“It’s huge!” You exclaimed, shuffling into your new home, cane in hand.

“That’s what she said.” Alana jeered, making Cecil roll his eyes. She had decided to come with and check out your new living space, too, after hearing you talk about it when she came to visit the day before.

Your new living arrangements was a rather large room in GDA headquarters, about as big as a full house and complete with a bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom. It was pretty barren though, save for the essentials, and a small bundle of presents on the dining room table. Your eyes lit up and you immediately wobbled over to them.

“Wow, you guys,” you picked one up. It was blue and from the Immortal, with yellow ribbon tied sloppily at the top. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. “I don’t know what to say. I haven’t done anything but cause you trouble, and you’ve been so kind to me.”

“Oh, please,” Alana came up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’ve known the Guardians for years. I’ve known you only six months and you’re already my best friend.” She gave you a small squeeze. “You’re no trouble at all.”

“We had a choice to bring you in or leave you bleeding, and we chose you,” Cecil chimed in, “don’t be so hard on yourself. You can pay us back by getting better.” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against a wall, giving you a smile. “Plus, I don’t do so good when people cry so— don’t.” You gave both of them a nod, too choked up for words.

After opening up the gifts, your new place felt more like a home. All of them were from the Guardians: decorations they thought you’d like or appliances you’d need. You had no idea what a panini maker was but apparently Josef really thought it was important, according to his card.

You sat with Alana and Cecil for a while, chatting about different things. It was calm, nice, something you hadn’t had in a long time. Your thoughts drifted to your previous life, to the turmoil, and to how far away it seemed now. It felt almost unreal how good everything seemed to be going, and how kind these people you met were in comparison. A satisfied sigh slipped through your lips and you leaned back in your chair. Suddenly a beeping rang through the room, and both Alana and Cecil looked at their watches.

“Oh shoot, gotta go,” Alana said, getting up and slipping her green stone into her mouth. “Emergency. I’ll talk to you later.” Morphing into her Green Ghost form, she flew towards the door and opened it, rushing to leave the building.

Cecil stood too, walking over to your new fridge. “I better go too, but first,” he opened the freezer, pulling out a carton of ice cream, “I was hoping we could all share, but work calls, as always.” He set the carton down on the table and turned to walk out the door.

“Wait!” You called, unable to control your sudden outburst. Cecil looked back. “Can I help? Or at least come along?” He thought for a moment, considering your words, before shaking his head no.

“Not yet. You will, I promise, but for now just sit tight.” With that he disappeared in a flash of light. Startled, you blinked away the sudden brightness that just assaulted your eyes. That certainly had never happened before. Must be an Earth thing.

With a frustrated sigh you put the ice cream back in the freezer and went to go lay down, drained from all the walking you did today. You were happy with your progress, but at times it seemed to be going so slow. You wanted to help, to be included. It didn’t feel good to be left behind, especially if there was something you could do. It got lonely.

Healing from injuries had been no stranger to you, but before now you had only dealt with flesh wounds, never something to do with bones. It was a whole new experience, and a long, tiring one. Once comfortable in your bed, covers up to your chin, it wasn’t long before your eyelids had grown heavy, and you drifted into a nightmare-filled sleep.

You’d had this one many times before. It was dark, and the iron tang of blood filled your nose. Heart racing, you whip your head around, frantically looking for anything in the darkness. Then, you see him. A tall, lean man with long, beautiful golden hair. He wore vibrant orange and red robes, and a crown the color of the flesh of grapefruit sat atop his head. He’s bathed in a beam of light, holding a young boy by the throat. The boy is screaming, gargling out urgently for help and thrashing his limbs in a futile escape attempt. There are deep gashes in the boy’s legs, arms, and torso, leaking streams of red that pool onto the black floor.

The man stares at you, narrowing his eyes maliciously. “Come here, pet.” He growls, shaking the young boy violently. “Come save him. Maybe your parental instinct will kick in if you see a child in agony.”

Your eyes grow hot and your throat tight as you try to fight your way towards the wailing boy, but some invisible force holds you in place. “Take me!” You screech. “Please, let him go and take me! I’m so sorry! I’ll try harder! It’ll work this time!”

Suddenly, you’re falling. Your heart leaps into your throat as you plummet down into a cold, dark abyss. Invisible knives slice into your side and carve up your face, sending blood spatter upward in a red shower. Weariness dragged at your bones, a soul sucking dread accompanying it. You were dying. Oh, god, you were dying.

“Help.” You breathe out, a pitiful noise in a wide expanse of nothing. “Help.” Your eyes began to close. The fight left your muscles. There was silence.

Then, your eyes shot open.

—————

Disclaimer:

I try to be as accurate as possible to the source material for this fan fiction, but at times I’ll get it wrong. The timelines for the Guardians of the Globe as well as Cecil are not as accurate as they should be but for the sake of wanting to have all the characters in here I fudged it. Just know that I understand not everything is accurate but let’s just try to have a good time regardless!

[the-travelling-witch]

Okay so I started writing, HOW DO YOU WRITE?!

I am trying to think of things to write but it is literally impossible to think of things to say. I know what I wanna write, but when it comes to typing it I'm completely lost

ah yes, the eternal question which strikes both reverence and absolute terror in creators far and wide

“where do i begin?”

[everything below this cut was written in a sarcastic 2am frenzy, read at your own risk]

i guess it depends on what you already have: is it a character, a setting, a plot or a dialogue prompt; sometimes you might only have ✨a vibe✨ but none of the formerly mentioned, which is, to put it lightly, the absolute worst in that case i pray upon thee good luck my friend

i mostly start off with a line of dialogue because that’s just what usually comes to me first, everyone’s a little different in that regard though and there’s absolutely no right or wrong answer to what motivates you

from what i have i try to fill in the rest of my blanks, mainly “who could say that?” and “in what context could this line be said?”, often enough i can imagine a scenery and a rough story line around that already; if not, it’s though luck and i procrastinate until the missing puzzle piece just comes to me, forcing it wouldn’t help anyway

it can also really help to bounce your ideas off of someone else; even if they don’t contribute anything new or helpful at all, voicing and describing your thoughts to someone else can help visualise what you’re working with and often enough inspiration strikes you in the process; also every now and then, others do have a sensible thought too jsjsh /lh (to everyone who’s ever had to listen to me ramble about me fics, you’re a god-sent, i love you, mwah mwah <3)

that’s when i usually sit down and prepare to meet my arch nemesis: the first sentence

my tip: just rip the band-aid off; you have to start somewhere and contemplating the first five words for hours on end does absolutely nothing but hold you back and you can come back and edit it later anyway (i almost never actually do that bc spoiler alert: the first sentence won’t make or break your fic; a “bad” first sentence won’t make it unreadable but a neat one also can’t save what is unsavable)

then i proceed to word vomit onto the page, have a couple mental breakdowns every now and then, finish about 95% and procrastinate the ending again (same tip as before: just get it over with, not writing it is not finishing your fic either; also, believe it or not, the end is changeable as well)

i continue by promising myself i will go over and rewrite the abomination again, then i throw it at my best friend so she can tell me that a) i’m in fact not delusional and people won’t think i’m completely weird for writing that and b) yes, i have in fact used the language known to most as “english”; although, deep down, i know i mainly do it so i can further procrastinate actually posting my fic and opening myself to potential criticism from people i do not know

if i’m feeling particularly motivated, i might actually start formatting my tumblr post, putting in the tags and writing the head of the fic (summary, pairing, warnings, author’s note etc)

i receive feedback from my friend, reread my fic a bajillion times just to miss a bunch of typos and grammatical errors, proceed to break my promise and not change my fic at all, paste it into tumblr, and hover over the post button for a disgustingly long time

once i’ve actually decided to press the damn thing, i immediately close tumblr and bring a safe distance between me and the app

now all that’s left to do is wait for validation from strangers on the internet in form of tags, comments or asks

those were a lot of very sarcastic words to basically say that you should just get started and not worry about it too much; every fic is different and sometimes the words seemingly don’t stop flowing and other times it feels like you’ve never seen a word before in your life; you can also flip-flop between these two stages within the same fic

at the end of the day, we write because we like torturing ourselves visualising our ideas on a page so we can share them with others; art is hard so this is the next best medium to share the headcanons and the brain worms and the rants and the incoherentscreaming the voice in your head does when you see your favourite character

we’re no professionals, we’re just silly little people on our silly little blogs sharing our silly little stories with other silly little people on their silly little blogs who in turn share their silly little stories with us

this is my guide to how i write 90% of my stories; why only 90% you ask? because every now and then a monster comes by, takes up all your brain space, ends up being 11k+ words and you just know you would’ve gone absolutely mental writing it without some form of planning before hand

if you don’t write anything like that, the dumpster fire above might help (mainly the beginning because it just got weirder and weirder with every added paragraph)

to close this off, i’ll leave you with some wise words

roses are red,

violets are blue,

don’t ask me for advice,

i ain’t got a clue

this is your sign to never let me write a writing guide, ever

[chrisevansredbelt]

hello bestie you wanted requests ???

frank and spitting 😛

something soft and filthy mmm

oop i’ve said too much bye

Taste

YES. nah bc like i literally had a spit kink fic in mind prior to this request,,,

but omg first ever request slay.

pairings: frank castle x reader

warnings: smut! spitting, oral (f receiving), spitting. spitting. also spitting. oh and i think some spitting as well?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

“How long do I put it in for, Frankie?” You call behind you to Frank, as you press a few buttons on the oven to get to the timer option.

“Says 14-16 minutes.” He mumbles, his fingers in his mouth as he licks them clean from the brownie batter he’s scooping out of the bowl. You press the buttons so that the timer is set to 15 minutes and turn back around to now clean up the mess of a kitchen you and Frank had made, “Best part of making brownies.” Frank beams, pointing to the nearly empty bowl of leftover brownie batter. You just laugh at him as he rambles on, “Not even when they first come out of the oven can top this.”

You load the other dirty dishes into the sink and throw out all of the rubbish that had come from the brownie mix that you bought from the store.

It had been sitting in your cupboard for a long while, but when Frank saw it it was like he struck gold.

Now that the kitchen no longer looks like a hurricane had gone through it, you hop up onto the kitchen counter to dangle your legs and watch your child of a boyfriend enjoy the simplicities of brownie batter.

He sees you eyeing him off and scoops some batter from the bowl on his finger, offering it to you with a raised brow. You just shake your head and smile, grabbing his hand nonetheless and bringing it to your mouth.

You hum at the taste of the chocolate on your tongue, licking his finger clean before pulling it out of your mouth with a pop. You didn’t mean for it to be sexual, which is why you were so concerned at his reaction when he looked at you dumbstruck, “What?” You ask, rather concerned. Instead of giving you a worded reply, he discards the bowl and reaches for you. He grabs at your waist and pulls you off the counter with ease, making you squeal in surprise as he carries you towards the couch, “Frank!”

He says nothing. Just claws at your pants like a starved man as he brings them down your legs. You at least know where this is going now.

He kisses all up your leg and down your thigh, over your closed cunt and making you buck your hips into his face. He teasingly licks a stripe along the fabric, making you whine in desperation.

He smiles at one of his most favourite sounds in the world, finally giving in and bringing your panties down your legs. You keen at the cool breeze of air that you’re suddenly exposed to.

Frank wraps his arms securely around your legs, and you wait patiently for him to dive in.

You gasp suddenly as you feel the harsh force of spit that coats your folds and drips down your clit. It arouses you more than you’d like to admit, but before you can even think a second thought, Frank is diving in.

Your hands fly to his hair, gripping at the strands as he laps up his spit and the sweet nectar that’s slowly oozing out of you.

“Oh, she liked that, huh?” Frank teases, marvelling at how fast your body had responded to his previous action.

He smiles up at your dazed expression, before focusing back on your clit. He brings his hand around your thighs and spreads you open to allow him more access and spits a few more times.

Each time you moan and soak a little more. As much as you loved the sensation, it was doing nothing but edging you and you now so desperately craved a release.

“Please, Frank,” You beg, running your fingers through his hair.

He presses a few kisses to your clit now, and one last spit before he’s devouring you. In motions you can’t even begin to describe, he sloppily eats at your cunt. “Tastes so fuckin’ good.” He then resorts to tongue-fucking your hole whilst his beautifully sculpted nose rubs at your clit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch your back off the couch. God, is this what heaven is like?

Your thighs trembled under his hold, threatening to squeeze around his head but he strong arms only stretched you out even more.

He picked up the pace, impossibly faster now, and removed one hand from your thigh to begin fingering you and you swore you saw stars as you threw your head against the cushions. Now that his fingers replaced his tongue and his tongue focused back on your clit, your orgasm was fast approaching.

“Cum in my mouth,” He mumbled against you, sending vibrations straight to your core, “All over my face and on my fingers,” You let your orgasm take over you, moaning loudly as you came undone.

You clenched around his fingers, his thrusts becoming much more sloppy as you released all over his fingers.

He pulled out his fingers and sat up now, bringing them to your lips and watching in pure lust as you sucked them clean.

He just smiles lazily before going back to your leaking cunt and slurps the rest of you up. You sit up once he finishes up, and harshly grab his jaw just as he’s about to swallow.

“Spit in my mouth.” You basically order from him.

His eyes darken and become a little hooded at your order. He brings his hand up to your chin, opening it up as he hovers over you now and you crane your neck with your mouth wide open.

He purposely keeps himself at a distance, wanting to see the string of his spit, mixed with your cum, fall into your own mouth.

The white substance falls from his lips and straight onto your tongue and you have to refrain from swallowing straight away as the rest of it follows.

Once there’s not much left, Frank forcefully ejects the rest of it into your mouth and nudges your chin to close your mouth.

You swallow all that’s been given to you, smiling up at Frank contently as you fall into his lap.

“Fuck.” He huffs, wiping the excess cum from around his mouth, “That was so hot.”

“You like that stuff, huh?” You ask, looking up at him. You always had an inkling that he liked it- well when he twitched in your hand every time you spat on his cock, it was kinda obvious, “I think she liked it too.”

He breaks out a smile, leaning down a pressing multiple kisses to your lips… the lips on your face that is, “She can get it whenever she wants.” He mumbles against your lips, “Anything for my girls.”

As your press your lips to his, the sound of the oven timer goes off, causing you to regain your senses and realise the smell of the cooked brownies filling the apartment.

“It’s like a reward.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

a/n: SCREAMING CRYING this has ME all flustered.

thank u so much for the request @beepitybeepboop i had so much fucking fun writing like SO much fun omg

ALSO HIT 200 followers wtaf?????

[sariahsue]

I'd love to know what movies get wrong about orphanages if you wouldn't mind sharing!

Oh, I'm so glad you asked!

So imagine all the movies with orphanages in them: Annie, Despicable Me, Meet the Robinsons*, Stuart Little, etc. The narrative goes like this. A bunch of poor orphans live in a home run by usually one person. When prospective parents come to visit, the children eagerly all line up, hoping to get picked! So exciting! The parents find the child they want, fill out a bunch of paperwork, and go home with their new child. There may be a couple bumps as everyone gets used to the new family dynamic, but they work themselves out by the end of the movie. Happily ever after!

Literally every single thing about that scenario is wildly incorrect. First off, and this comes as a surprise to most people, there aren't any orphanages in the United States. None.

Not many kids are orphaned these days thankfully, and if they are, there’s usually extended family or other arrangements previously made by the parents (like through their wills or godparents). If there’s truly no one that can take the kid, they’d be put into foster care and given an adoption worker along with their normal social worker.

The closest thing we have to orphanages are probably residential programs and group homes (which are basically a step down from residential and in a house with a smaller group of kids). I say they’re similar because they look it from the outside. A bunch of kids living together being cared for by adults who aren’t their parents. 

That’s where the likeness ends, though. Kids in residential aren’t up for adoption. Strangers can’t go in and visit. The kids are there to receive extra care. They have something going on that make them too much to handle for their parents or foster parents, and it could be physical disability, behavioral issues, or mental health struggles. Most kids are in programs like that temporarily, though some live there for years. The adults that work there don’t live there. It’s a normal 40-hour workweek and many people work in shifts to make sure it’s properly staffed.

The government does line the kids up to show them off to prospective parents sometimes. They’re called adoption parties, and for some reason they’re held at Jordan’s Furniture store a lot. (Because they volunteer the space, I think.) There’s food and music and lots of kids up for adoption and lots of parents hoping to adopt. 

Little kids tend to like them because they’re too young to understand what’s going on and, hey, lots of people to pay attention to me! Older kids HAAATE them. If they want to be adopted, then this is a great way to feel judged and rejected for a few hours. Most aren’t really excited about being adopted. Most kids’ birth parents are still alive, but their rights were forcefully terminated by the state. The kids can feel lots of things about this. Angry. Disloyal to their birth family if they want a new family. Scared of being hurt by the new family. Sad to leave their foster family. Still want to go home even if it’s not possible. It’s not a fun time. 

Nothing concrete comes of these parties usually. Parents can talk to social workers afterward if there’s a kid that they want more information on, but it’s really the beginning of the process. There are other ways to begin that process. I’ve heard of teachers meeting a foster kid and wanting to adopt, or someone knowing a foster family taking care of a kid who’s up for adoption. Others simply talk to an adoption worker. I don’t know what the process is like for that. Quite often, foster families will take care of a kid and then adopt them. (That’s what happened to us. We fostered a newborn. He wasn’t up for adoption until he was two, and we were couldn’t even contemplate giving him up at that point.)

Sometimes, social workers will try to get prospective parents to meet kids without the kids realizing the adults are thinking about adoption, to spare the kid the worry and rejection. Once the parents have decided to move forward, there is paperwork, but I think it’s normal foster parent type paperwork because, surprise, you can’t adopt them yet. Kids have to live in your house for six months before you can adopt

Since most kids will be with a foster family before going to a pre-adoptive home, and they probably are comfortable there and attached to the family, the transition to the new home is gradual. They start out with visits for a few hours, then sleepovers. If the kid hasn’t figured it out already, they’ll let them know these people want to adopt them around this time. Some kids take it well. Some... don’t. Longer sleepovers, then finally they officially move in. This could be a couple weeks if the kid is already familiar with the adoptive family or longer if they’re particularly attached to the foster family. 

If six months are up and things are still going well, the real paperwork can start. There are home evaluations, interviews with the parents, interviews with the children already in the family, psychologists determine if the adoptee is adjusted well and securely attached. I’m sure there’s a ton more that I don’t know about. It freaking takes forever. When you’re done, you have to go to court and have papers signed by a judge. I’m sure this is the best part of every judge’s day. There are smiles and pictures and kids happily banging the gavel to make it official!

Unfortunately, the issues that come from adoption are not all solved at the end of the 90-minute movie. My brother, who never lived with his birth mother and has only had us as his family, still has issues. I know a girl who was straight up abandoned by her mother. She’s got serious mental health and self-worth issues years later, even though she and family adore each other and they are so good to her and super supportive. On the other hand, some people have zero issues over it. They don’t know and don’t care about their birth family.

Some issues go away after time and love. Some people start out with no issues, but after a few months or years, things start to change. Their subconscious realizes that they’re not in danger, and this is a safe environment where they can finally start to work through the trauma they’ve been through, and suddenly they’ll start having mental health or behavioral problems, and sometimes they’re severe. 

It’s sad, but occasionally adoptions fail. This is part of the reason for the six-month wait. Sometimes the kids have so many issues that the parents can’t help them and keep them safe. Sometimes the parents weren’t as good people as they pretended to be and should haven’t kids. Thankfully, this type. of thing is pretty rare. I’ve never met anyone who it’s happened to. Most of the time, kids are put into good homes with people who love them and help them heal from the things their birth families put them through. 

TL;DR There aren’t any orphanages in the US. Adoption is very complicated and emotionally messy, but it’s great! I’m sorry not sorry I wrote an essay. 

*I give Meet the Robinsons a pass. Lots of kids who are up for adoption or who have been adopted struggle with it a lot. For some, they feel worthless because their foundational belief about themselves is that not even their own mother wanted them. For others, they feel guilty about betraying their birth family when they start to love the adoptive family. Some are rejected repeatedly. Almost all of them have been deeply hurt in the past. Meet the Robinsons acknowledges issues like these and told the story of a boy who dealt with them in a healthy way, and showed kids that it’s okay for them to be happy, and made a very cute and imaginative movie out of it, and I love it for existing. 

[reidscanehand]

The Statistical Probability of Falling in Love

Master List to The Statistical Probability Series

Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

Category: Fluff 

TW: Mentions of bullying, cursing, kind of a depressing mental space at the beginning, mentions of an erection, and again, like...desiring somebody beyond the realms of friendship. 

Also, good lord, he’s so awkward, so this is kind of overdramatic, but all in good fun. It’s also kind of super long because I have no filter. And I loved this request by @radtwinkie .

This request has taken me literal ages to complete and I am so sorry for that! It’s really just because I genuinely loved this request and thought it was so precious and lovely; I really didn’t want to mess it up...all that to say I’ve rewritten it at least twice, so I hope it’s close to what was imagined when requested. Thank you @radtwinkie for your patience and I hope you all enjoy! xx

~ “Most of us have nicknames - annoying, endearing, embarrassing. But what about your true name? It is not necessarily your given name. But it is the one to which you are most eager to respond when called. Ever wonder why? Your true name has the secret power to call you.” - Vera Nazarian ~

Spencer is not a huge fan of nicknames. Part of it, of course, was the intense bullying he’d received as a child and teenager. Which was, frankly, rather hard to get past, even as an adult. He loved his BAU family, and for the majority of his time working with them, he felt loved and seen and accepted. But every so often Derek would make a comment that hit too close to home, Hotch would shut down one of his tangents with a slightly more annoyed tap than usual, Rossi would roll his eyes a little harder than usual, Penelope would seem genuinely overwhelmed, or Emily or JJ would be just a little too relieved to get to walk away as he began to ramble. It felt vastly unfair; Spencer wasn’t one to believe in karma, but there was something in him that felt like...maybe he deserved this acute loneliness. The brain he had been given, the intelligence he had...only for it to be received with...not hatred, exactly, but a sort of begrudged acceptance felt like a penance for the brain he was lucky to have, but never asked for.  

No one is perfect, but in those moments when he allows his anxieties and insecurities to get the better of him, Spencer can’t help but feel that his perceived imperfections are maybe too much? 

JJ is overly competitive, but Will loves that about her. Hotch is borderline humorless, especially when it comes to the job, but both Beth and Haley were able to see beyond that. Rossi is sarcastic, too wry sometimes for his own good, yet he is loved and respected. Derek can be testy to the point of meanness, and yet he always seems to be showered with affection by Penelope and many, many women. Penelope is quirky, sure, but always adored and never doubted. Emily could be borderline cruel and yet still manages to maintain a level of intimacy with the team that Spencer just does not seem to have. So, though nobody is perfect, Spencer is worried that he is so imperfect that his brain has muddled himself a hole he will never be able to leave. It feels like an absolutely hopeless situation...that is, until he meets you. 

It was after a particularly gnarly case in Los Angeles that Strauss decided to hire a new communications liaison. The publicity surrounding the case was fierce prior to the BAU’s arrival, but their involvement only brought more attention. The case was incredibly complicated and the investigation dragged on longer than anyone wanted it to. The press was practically vicious by the time the thing had been solved and, upon arriving back at Quantico, the whole team was shuffled into several meetings with Strauss regarding how best to handle press moving forward. Strauss didn’t want to add anyone to the team, nor did anyone else, really, but after an exploratory meeting with you, she was impressed and you were hired. 

Had it been literally anyone else in the universe in your position, Spencer’s convinced they would’ve fallen flat on their face. The team really didn’t want a new member, Emily and Derek were borderline hostile about it prior to your arrival, and Penelope was so nerve wracked by change that her thoughts flew from hacking every piece of technology you owned to hugging you like a teddy bear in a matter of seconds. Spencer himself didn’t love change. The balance of life at the BAU was temperamental at best with the type of work they did, so the addition of anyone was jarring. However, from the moment you walked through the glass doors of the BAU, Spencer knew everything would be alright. At least, for the rest of team. He was well and truly fucked. 

First of all, and rather most importantly to Spencer, you’re super nice. Not just “nice”, but rather so nice that the word itself feels inadequate. After your first case with the team, you noticed that Hotch was having a hard time. Well, everyone noticed (they are profilers, mind), but you were the only one to do anything about it. Spencer is still unsure of whether you were unaware of Hotch’s incredible reserve, or you’re just so kind you weaseled your way around it, because when you offer him a hug before boarding the jet, he not only accepts it, but leans into you and reciprocates. He thanks you for it. The team is dumbfounded. Not to mention the absolutely cracking job you’ve done of handling the publicity surrounding the case. You’re quick to underplay your work on this one, but it was a rural town in Mississippi and you handled the delicacy of the case with a level of grace and tact that blew everyone away. Thus, secondly: you’re rather mind-blowingly excellent at your job. Spencer swears you could be a profiler with the capacity you have for human emotion. Whether it be a newspaper reporter, a grieving parent, an obnoxious local television personality or the unsub’s family, you seem to have a knack for talking to people, making them comfortable, and keeping the entire team safe, well cared for, and out of harm’s way in the public eye. Spencer even heard JJ mention to Emily that, had you always been the communications liaison, the BAU’s position in the bureau would never be questioned. And finally, though Spencer’s a little ashamed that he has such a fixation on it: you are incredibly pretty, which is always just a little hard for Spencer to get around. And had you behaved like everyone else, he would have acclimated to it, as he had with the other attractive women he worked with. But, the thing is...you don’t behave like everyone else. 

~~~ 

It’s on your first case with the BAU that it happens. 

Spencer’s been careful not to say too much around you. He desperately wants to make a good impression, though at this point he’s not sure why. He wants you to...like him, he supposes. Not in a loving way (not yet, anyway), but just in a generally pleasant “you’re not so bad” kind of way. Thus far, to his mind, he’s gotten away with it. It’s sad, really, that he almost feels as though he has to pull off a trick, a magic trick of sorts, in order to make a good impression with new people. Truly, you’re so kind and lovely that he could probably be himself and you’d still like him, but that’s something Spencer’s not very willing to leave to chance. He’s cut himself off on at least three different tangents since the case started, worked carefully to correct people in a more gentle manner than usual, and allowed his answers to come at what feels like a more natural pace than he typically would. Hell, he even shook your hand when he met you, just to stave off what Spencer feels is the inevitable stasis of weirdness he’ll be in when you finally get to know the real him. He’s fashioned what he hopes is an appealing version of himself in order to get to know you. He’s damn near head over heels for you already, but nothing prepares him for this. 

While he’s worked hard to cut back on The Reid Effect in order to keep you at arm’s length, the Mississippi heat and intensity of the case are waning on his determination quicker than he’d like. There are obvious burns on the victim, dumped unceremoniously in a creek in a woodsy area, but the burns had gone unmentioned by the local cops prior to the BAU’s arrival to the scene. As it’s your first case, Hotch pairs you with Spencer and Rossi to go to the most recent crime scene to get a feel for the back and forth with the BAU and the local police department. Spencer can feel the sterile version of himself falling back with every second as the local PD prove themselves to be relatively useless. 

“The burns,” Spencer says, slowly, trying to forestall his corrective nature. “Why weren’t those mentioned in the initial reports?” 

“Oh, we assumed those were from the sun. Exposure, ya know?” answers Sherriff Riley. 

“That seems a bit...farfetched,” Spencer corrects, carefully, ever so slowly. 

“Now I know y’all don’t know nothin’ ‘bout the Mississippi sun, but-”

“Actually, this area of Mississippi sits in the 2 to 3, low to moderate range of the UV index, meaning that, while it’s advised to cover up on bright days if you’re prone to burning and wear the suggested average 30 SPF sunscreen, which is the average SPF suggested for the majority of the country, it’s not that far removed from what you’d find in Quantico or D.C. In fact, in a wooded area like this, it’s almost entirely unlikely that someone would sustain burns of this nature.” It’s out before he can stop himself and Spencer cringes inwardly at the quickness with which the facts fall from his mouth. He can feel you looming behind him, can almost feel your breath hitch as Sherriff Riley stares at Spencer blankly, attempting to take in what he just said. As is typical when this occurs, Rossi steps in.

“Basically, we think the unsub is burning them as part of the signature,” Rossi explains. 

“Oh,” Sherriff Bailey says vaguely. “Okay. We’ll let the medical examiner know, then.” Rossi smiles and steps toward another part of the crime scene, diverting the attention of the Sherriff. Spencer gulps, his throat suddenly dry as you sidle up next to him. 

“How did you know that?” you ask, quietly. Spencer can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s terrified that he’ll see some form of ridicule or rejection in your eyes and, even in the mildest of forms, his not really sure he could deal with it. 

“Um,” Spencer begins, awkwardly. “I have this...eidetic memory thing?” He cringes inwardly again as he phrases this fact as a question because he feels kind of ridiculous. 

“What does that mean?”

“It’s like...I’ll read something, or even, sometimes see or hear something, and I just...remember it. Auto-didacticism, to some extent,” he answers, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels.

“Like, forever?” you ask. “You remember stuff forever?” He gets it together to look at you because your tone is confusing to him. You’re not being rude or teasing him, you’re just genuinely asking questions.

“Uh, kind of...I don’t forget much,” Spencer says. “I can also read really fast, so I gather that information at a relatively rapid rate.” 

“How fast do you read?” you ask, turning your body to face him. Spencer stares at you for a moment, sifting through your facial cues and mannerisms, perplexed at the honest curiosity you’re exhibiting. 

“Well,” he swallows, scared that, at any moment, this genuine air of interest that you’ve granted him will shift into something he’s more used to. “20,000 words a minute.”

“Wow,” your eyes widen. You look down for a moment and smile to yourself. “You’re a proper genius then, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I don’t really believe that genius can be quantified-”

“That sounds like something someone who’s definitely a genius would say,” you tease, gently. 

“Then I guess I am a genius...because I did just say that,” he responds quietly. You stare at him for a moment allowing a gorgeous smile to play on your lips before throwing your head back in the prettiest laugh he’s ever heard. Spencer feels a grin growing on his face because you’re not teasing him meanly, but playfully. And you’re not laughing at him, but with him, at a joke he made. And he’s pretty sure you’ve complimented him. You, a pretty and sincerely nice woman, just complimented him, Spencer Reid, awkward nerdy man that he is, in the woods on an FBI case. And he made you laugh. And now he can’t stop grinning. 

“Got any other facts or figures for me?” you ask, again, so very genuinely. He just stares at you, unsure of what to say as his brain can barely comprehend what’s happening, let alone come up with a singular fact or statistic. “Seems like I’ve got you tongue-tied, Stats,” you smile. 

“Stats?” he asks, cautiously, your kind stare not allowing the bona fide grin to move from his face. 

“Do you mind if I call you that?” you ask, a sudden hitch in your cadence making Spencer recognize that you’re also nervous. “It’d be nice to...have a friend, you know?”

“Stats, huh?” he whispers to himself, his grin not abating. “I'd love that, actually, Y/N.” 

“Cool,” you smile, giving him a look that he’s damn near sure he’d kill to keep. “You feel free to make up a nickname for me too, if you’d like, Stats,” you say, walking away. 

And now Spencer knows he’s in trouble because he literally can’t stop grinning. Even when the case gets harder, the idea that you want to be his friend...that you think he’s worthy of a fun nickname, that you might think he’s interesting, that you’re - dare he believe it - playful with him.... he simply can’t wrap his head around it. 

~~~

It happens more often than he’d like to admit and being the baby of the BAU family (even though, much to his annoyance, you are definitely at least a couple of years younger than Spencer and he is still considered the baby) comes with its price. And when you’re a certified genius in possession of an IQ of 187 and the social skills of a scared butterfly, things like this tend to happen. For Spencer, it’s really not a big deal at this point. 

The team has been called to help the Sacramento Police Department due to a string of medically coerced heart attacks. The unsub is forcing heart attacks on his victims by delivering them an overdose of caffeine. The victims are all mild caffeine addicts, either drinking excessive amounts of coffee, tea, or energy drinks which the unsub is lethally dosing with absurdly high amounts of the stimulant. At the roundtable, Spencer chimed in with the average amounts of caffeine found in typical sources: 80 mg for the average energy drink, anywhere from 50 to 235 mg for the average black coffee - only to be cut off. He’s used to being cut off, either verbally or, as had just occurred, a gentle tap on the arm from Hotch. What he isn’t used to is your response. The briefing is over, everyone breaks to gather their go bags and prepare for the incredibly long flight to Sacramento when he feels a gentle pressure against his back, right in between his shoulder blades. He turns and almost smacks into you. 

“God, you have long legs,” you say, “you’re almost impossible to catch up to, Stats.”

“Sorry,” Spencer replies, not ever quite sure if people are joking or not. 

“Long legs are a virtue,” you correct, whether you’ve caught on to his apprehension or not, Spencer’s not sure, but he appreciates it either way. 

“How can I help you, Y/N?” he asks. He still hasn’t come up with a nickname for you. As you’ve grown closer over these past few cases, he’s not sure what to call you. You seem set on a platonic friendship, though he’s very quickly gained a completely understandable crush on you, meaning that his ideas on nicknames are tending toward the rather overly affectionate variety. Plus, your name suits you. It’s just as lovely and perfect as you seem to be, anyway. 

“I was wondering, Stats,” you begin, awkwardly, “if you could finish what you were going to say.” 

“What do you mean?” Spencer stares at you, a little lost in your eyes. 

“The average amounts of caffeine thing you were saying,” you amend, staring up at him all wide-eyed and curious again. “I was listening and, um, I think Hotch tapped you or something and you stopped? It seemed kind of rude, to be honest, but...well, I wasn’t quite done learning yet.” 

Spencer is so dumbfounded he can barely speak, let alone recall the average amounts of caffeine found in typical sources. You want him to finish a statistic. A borderline meaningless, completely random fact that he knows from a glance at a newspaper or medical article. You caught up to him in a hallway, nearly chased him down, to learn something from him. He opens his mouth to speak, the beginnings of a sound dying in his mouth. Once again faced with your abject kindness, Spencer finds that he can’t quite string two words together, much less finish his thoughts from moments before. 

“Have I done it again, Stats?” you grin at him, all twinkly and precious. 

“Done what?” he rasps out, still in a daze of confusion. 

“Rendered the resident genius speechless?” you sweetly tease, that delightful smirk toying with your mouth again. It takes Spencer a second to realize he’s straight up staring at your mouth rather than responding. 

“Uh, yeah,” he manages to say. “Uh, yeah”? What the fuck? His mind is moving again, but not in a helpful way. 187 IQ, my ass. “I guess you have.” 

“That’s kind of fun,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. You look back up at him and Spencer is once again bowled over by the fact that you’re just being kindly playful. You’re not being mean or even too terribly jokey, you’re just...God, you’re so sweet. “It’s nice to be able to keep you on your toes.” 

All of my body parts - tip to toe - will be at full attention as long as you keep looking at me like that, he thinks, jarred by the abrupt, ever-so-slightly salacious turn of his thoughts. He’s suddenly very aware of how very pretty you are, how good you smell, and how playful you might be in- 

“Is it?” he gasps, the air finally deciding to reappear in his lungs as he attempts to break through any thoughts of you in his bedroom. Despite how delightful those thoughts may be. 

“Yeah,” you say, wrapping an arm through his and walking you both toward the bullpen to gather your things. “It’s a nice reminder that even geniuses are human. I’ll hit you up for facts just to keep it interesting, is that all right?” You can hit me up for literally anything and I will worship the ground you walk on, he thinks, but all he can manage is a kind of nod. Spencer swears his body is on fire from your touch, but he feels almost sad as you begin to pull away. You squeeze his arm and look down before deciding to continue. 

“Just know that I’m always listening to what you say. No matter what it is,” you reassure him. And as you walk away, it’s not his sexual attraction to you that plagues his mind, it’s the fact that Spencer’s falling in love with you. 

~~~

Spencer had been quite certain that, almost a year into knowing you now, your relatively regular habit of sneaking close to him to ask him for a quick statistic or fact would assimilate his entire body to your presence, but no such luck there. You do it more regularly now, and Spencer’s very nearly got the hang of it. Part of it is the closeness, this he knows. And it has nothing to do with his semi-germophobic tendencies and everything to do with the fact that his lungs can’t seem to get used to how absolutely gorgeous you smell. And his eyes can’t seem to get used to how beautiful you are. And his ears can’t seem to get used to how melodic your voice is. Again, IQ Points? Almost entirely useless for something of this nature. 

At this point, he’s relatively sure you know the effect you have on him. It’s pretty hard to miss. He knows this because, obviously, he’s an incredible profiler, but you also both work with a bunch of incredible profilers who have all noticed your effect on him. 

“Seems like Pretty Boy has found himself a Pretty Lady,” Derek sing songs one afternoon. You’re all on the flight back to Quantico from a successful case in Montana. Despite the fact that you've most definitely just entered the jet’s bathroom, Spencer nearly throws his back out as he whips around in his seat to make sure you don’t hear. 

“I have not,” he defends, lamely, his cheeks burning. 

“Oh, come on, Spence,” Emily tags in from across the aisle. “You’re pretty obvious.”

“Well, obviously not, because she doesn’t know. And if she does, she clearly doesn’t want the same thing, so will you please, please not say anything?” Spencer knows he sounds frantic and desperate, but if any of them ruin...whatever this is between you, he’ll almost certainly kill them. JJ stares at him for a moment, her eyes widening at his panic.

“You don’t think Y/N likes you?” JJ looks genuinely surprised, as does Derek and Emily. 

“Not...not in that way,” Spencer murmurs, pretending to brush some lint off of his sweater so he can look away from them all. 

“Kid,” Rossi jumps in from his spot across from Emily. “She calls you Stats.”

“It’s just a fun nickname-”

“You always sit with each other on the plane.”

“I just sit near her, it’s not usually the other way around-”

“You hang out with each other outside of work.”

“I don’t have any other friends and she takes pity on me-”

“Reid,” Hotch says from his seat near the front of the craft, not looking up from his paperwork. “Don’t be dumb. You’re way too smart for that.” The conversation thankfully dies as you reenter the cabin, returning to your seat next to Spencer. He gives you a quick smile as you return to your book. He also tries to pretend everyone isn’t staring at the two of you, but it’s hard considering they’re all being annoyingly obvious. About twenty minutes later, you put your book down. At this point, JJ and Derek have fallen asleep, and Emily looks no more than a few minutes away from it. 

“Hey, Stats,” you whisper, very close to his ear now. So close that he’s pretty sure you can feel the heat from his blushing cheeks.

“Yeah?” 

“What’s the statistical probability of you allowing me to use your arm as my pillow right now?” Your playful smirk is toying so preciously with your lips that Spencer thinks he might agree to a root canal if you asked. 

“100% likely,” he smiles, trying not to sound giddy. 

“Thanks, Stats,” you sigh, laying your head on his arm. Your breath evens out rather quickly. Spencer attempts, he really does, to focus on his book, but the gentle weight of your head, the sweet smell of your shampoo, the adorable scrunch of your nose as you dream, all give way to him giving up on the book and deciding to simply stare at you. Stare at you in awe, it would seem.

“Don’t drool, kiddo,” Rossi whispers, “it’s unseemly.” 

“I’m not drooling,” Spencer argues weakly, his hand twitching with the desire to check whether or not he’s actually drooling. 

“Listen, Reid,” Rossi says, moving to sit across from you, next to a sleeping Derek. “I may not know what it’s like to have an IQ of 187, or an eidetic memory, or be able to read 20,000 words a minute, but I can imagine that it can’t be easy to wander through life with that kind of brain.” He glances at you and, as if on cue, you snuggle slightly into Spencer’s arm. Without thinking, he wraps his arm around you, thankful the armrest is already up, as you snuggle into his side, a small grin decorating your pretty face. Spencer stares at you, unabashed affection in his gaze. He looks back up to Rossi who is watching the scene before him with a wistful smile. “I’m sure it’s not easy to wander through life alone with a mind like yours. And if I had a girl like that-”

“But, I don’t have her, Rossi,” Spencer whispers, the truth of the statement creating a gentle, but unignorably present lump in his throat. He swallows, trying to keep it together. 

“I think you do,” Rossi disagrees. “Look, I know we tease you from time to time, and I’m sorry if that ever goes too far, but...if I may: don’t let this pass you by. Y/N is the only person I’ve ever met who fully recognizes and celebrates how lucky we are to have you. And that’s something you can’t lose, kid.” With that, Rossi stands, crossing back to his seat. 

Spencer rubs the back of his free hand over his mouth now that Rossi is looking away. He wasn’t drooling, but he knows he might as well be. Because he’s in love with you. And it’s a fact he’s been avoiding admitting to himself because he’s not at all sure what you’d do with this information. Or what he will do with this information.

~~~

The jet touches down in Quantico and Spencer gently wakes you up, but you’re so tired he lets you lean on him, nearly carrying you from the plane. When you get into the office, Hotch quietly orders Spencer to drive you home as you’re far too tired to get there safely. He agrees because he kind of planned to do that anyway, but it’s nice that he doesn’t have to bring up the concept to you. He gets your keys from your desk, and leads you to your car on the parking deck. 

Spencer helps you into the passenger seat, and you immediately are fully asleep again, which leads to him buckling you in. Your nose scrunches up in your sleep and, without thinking, he leans forward and places a gentle kiss on it. You groan slightly in your sleep and Spencer snaps his head back, hitting it on the roof of the car.

“Fuck!” he yells in pain. Your eyes pop open, suddenly very awake. You take in the scene over you with a great deal of confusion, as Spencer looms over you, clutching the back of his head. 

“Spencer!” you yelp, “are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” he grunts through gritted teeth, “just superb.” 

“What are you doing?”

“Um,” he winces, pulling his body out of the car. “Buckling you in to take you home.” 

“Oh,” you say. “Did you hit your head? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he whispers, now lying to you and himself. “Let’s get you home, Y/N.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking deck, heading toward your apartment, which happens to not be too far from Spencer’s, a fact he is not proud to be thrilled about. You’re about five minutes down the road when you speak up again. 

“You still don’t have a nickname for me, huh Stats?” you tease. In the dark of the car, Spencer can’t see it, but can hear the smile on your face. He’s also relieved that you can’t see his renewed blush.

“Can’t say I have, Y/N,” Spencer smiles.

“And why’s that, Stats?” You sound like you’re fully enjoying yourself, but he’s still amazed at your ability to tease him without being mean. 

“I don’t know,” he states, surprising himself with his honesty, “nothing seems to suit you.” 

“Oh, really?” you counter. “Let’s see, I used to be called lots of fun and horrible things...my family calls me Y/N/N, which I actually can’t stand, but you knew that one. I got called ‘Four Eyes’ in school when I first got glasses-”

“Same here,” Spencer mumbles. 

“Ah, kids are nothing if not somewhat unoriginal,” you joke. “A mean girl in middle school called me ‘The Grotesque Girl’.”

“Seriously? How...why?” There are many words that run through Spencer’s mind when he sees you and not a singular one involves the word grotesque...or any of its synonyms. He’s rather horrified that you ever had to deal with that.

“Um,” you murmur, your voice slightly quieter now, “I don’t know. I’m not the prettiest of girls, and I most certainly wasn’t back then-”

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupts, trying not to sound as utterly in love as he is, “you’re one of the most beautiful women I know.” For the first time in a long time around you, he feels himself cringing inwardly at his overly honest admission. 

“You have to say that, Stats,” you say, somewhat wistfully, “you’re my friend. Besides it’s alright,” you perk back up, “not all of us can be as gorgeous as you.” 

“Y/N,” Spencer speaks slowly, trying not to reveal too much, even though his resilience is waning fast. “Please understand that when I say you’re one of the most beautiful women I know, I mean you’re actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

“Stats-”

“I will brook no arguments,” Spencer insists, attempting to turn the conversation back toward more lighthearted fare. “I’m a genius, remember.”

“Well, fine,” you joke, and Spencer can hear the smile in your voice again. “I suppose if genius thinks I’m beautiful, I must be.” You’re quiet for a moment before speaking again. “You know I call you Stats in, like...a nice way, right?”

“Of course,” Spencer answers quickly.

“Good,” you whisper, partially to yourself. “I just...I know that bullying can be rough and kids call each other names and just...I...”

Spencer pulls into your apartment complex and turns off the car, looking at you as you stare forward, clearly trying to decide what to say. 

“I just so highly respect you,” you whisper. “And I know that you still get teased and you still get... I know that it can be really rough sometimes. And I never want you to think that I’m...making fun of you. I just want you to know that you always have a friend.” 

Spencer feels the tears forming in his eyes and he can’t confidently tell if it’s because of how overwhelmingly genuine your reassurance was, because he’s exhausted, or because you’ve, in the space of about ten minutes called him your friend twice. And he loves being your friend, really, but he has now admitted to himself that he wants to be way more. He covers your hand with his own and squeezes it. You squeeze back and his heart is melting. He sniffles, trying to control himself.  

“Let’s get you to bed, Y/N,” he manages to say. Spencer gets out of the car, grabbing your go bag from the back. 

“Stats,” you say, as you get out of the car, “how are you getting home?”

“Oh, I can walk from here,” he says, vaguely, rather looking forward to the ten or twenty minutes of silence to contemplate how best to work on his aching heart. 

“Would you,” you start, clearly a little unsure of yourself. “Would you maybe want to stay here?” 

Spencer doesn’t trust himself to respond. His brain and body feel as though they’ve separated in this moment. There are so very many thoughts running through his brilliant head and half of them make him blush. In this vast chaos, his body opts to simply stare at you. You look away for a moment, contemplatively, then look back at him. 

“It’s really late,” you continue, “and it’s kind of cold. And, not to be selfish, but it would give me far more peace of mind if I knew you were safe.” 

He looks at you, ever in astonishment at the utterly uncomplicated quality of your kindness. He simply nods, grabbing his go bag as well, and follows you into your apartment. He’s been here before, but this time feels entirely different. More intimate and intense, though he’s fighting at the feelings, trying to quash them with every breath. You easily convince him to share your bed. He’s mildly pleased by the fact that he pretended not to want to for about five seconds longer than he thought he would. As Spencer gets into your bed, you scoot closer to him than he thought you might. Arm to arm, leg to leg, you begin to doze off, which is the only reasoning he can give to the fact that you turn your body in towards his as you fall asleep. He watches you for a moment, allowing himself to prop his head on his arm and unabashedly admire you. 

“Got some facts about sleeping for me, Stats?” you ask, yawning, barely awake.

“Sure,” Spencer whispers, finding it easier to speak to you now that your eyes are closed, “you got enough energy to hear them?”

“I just like hearing you talk,” you admit. Another flutter pokes Spencer’s heart. 

“Alright,” he says, glad you can’t see the heart eyes he’s sure he’s giving you. “Um...humans can survive longer without food than they can without sleep. This discovery is mostly attributed to the 19th century Russian scientist, Marie Mikhaïlovna de Manacééne.” You hum in response and he smiles as he continues, “She conducted one of the earliest experiments on extreme sleep deprivation. She found that when she deprived puppies of sleep, they all died within four or five days, despite every effort to keep them alive, like food and water.” 

“That’s sad,” you breathe, the cutest pout in the world adorning your face. Spencer clears his throat. 

“Hmm, no more dying puppy facts, then,” he jokes, ashamedly proud of the breathily delicate giggle that escapes your lips. “When you sleep, your brain sort of unifies all of your thoughts and skills. So it reorganizes and strengthens when you sleep. That’s why sleep is important.”

“Mm, m’glad you never get a full night’s sleep then,” you hum. “Imagine if your amazing brain got a full night’s strengthening sleep? You’d be unbeatable, Stats.” 

“I think you’ll find I’m pretty unbeatable now, Y/N,” he jokes. You snuggle slightly closer to him, rendering him almost breathless.

“S’not true, Stats,” you tease. “S’why I like to keep you on your toes. S’fun to see you speechless for a second.”

“I’m not speechless right now,” he half-heartedly argues, just happy to have you so close to him. He can hear the slight tremor in his voice and hopes you’re exhausted enough not to pick up on it. 

“'Cause I’m indisposed. Half asleep Y/N isn’t at her full powers of genius incapacitation.” 

“Big words for a sleepy baby,” Spencer breathily laughs. 

“Mmm,” you hum into his arm. “You should call me that more often.”

“What’s that?”

“Baby,” you whisper, your voice fading as you fall further asleep. Spencer can’t breathe. This is too much. It’s so intimate and you’re so warm and beautiful, and you smell so good, and you just told him to call you baby. 

“I can’t call you that, Y/N,” Spencer mumbles, almost hoping you don’t hear. And the universe seems to take pity on him as you’re finally fully asleep. 

~~~ 

He may be a genius, but it always takes Spencer’s brain a second to click on when he wakes up. He’s actually spent an embarrassingly large amount of time thinking about this brief span of time between sleep and full awareness. He wonders if, due to the substantial abilities of his brain, it might take his brain a longer time to catch up to his body when he wakes up. He’s also wondered if it might go faster because of his brain’s capabilities. This thought process briefly cross his mind when he opens his eyes and it takes him a few minutes to fully process where he is. And the fact that you’re still asleep next to him. 

Next to him is a generous term for what you’re really doing. You’re nestled so closely into his side that Spencer’s scared he’ll wake you up if he breathes too deeply. As if aware of his thoughts, you nestle your head impossibly deeper into his chest, and it’s so precious that Spencer’s suddenly worried his now pounding heart might wake you up. He’s just happy he’s got a shirt on. If your head nestled into his bare chest, he feels positive he’d never recover. He returns his head to the pillow, finding that it slots just perfectly above yours. And that’s when the universe decides to turn the intensity up a few notches. 

“Mmm,” you hum into him, a sound that rumbles through Spencer’s chest with a warmth he’s only dreamed about. “Darling.” 

What. The. Fuck. 

Spencer blinks ten times, rapidly, not convinced he’s awake. He allows his eyes to flicker towards you. You’re still asleep. You have to be, you would never-

“Mmm, Spencer,” you keen gently, eyes still closed as your nose proceeds to give his chest an Eskimo kiss. He’s going to have a heart attack. This is it. This is the end. He’s going to have a heart attack and die, right here and right now. He’s equal parts terror and absolute joy as your arms snake out from their spot beneath your head, reaching towards him, one slipping behind his neck, the other finding a home on his chest. It’s then that everything goes south. Spencer assumes that you actually thought you were dreaming and the reality of touching an actual breathing human was so shocking that that’s what actually caused you to wake up. 

Your eyes flutter open, staring at his chest for a moment. You squeeze your eyes tightly, only to open them again a moment later. 

“Good morning,” you rasp, clearly uncomfortable, but still unmoving. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer lies, his voice gravelly with first use. “Why?”

“You’re trembling, Spencer,” you whisper, your hand pressing into his chest with an ever so slight pressure. Oh, that he was fully aware of as he’s trying desperately to control his body’s natural reaction to you, nearly pulling his hips off the bed as he pulls his groin away from you. 

“I’m fine,” he responds, surprisingly evenly for such a tremulous situation. “I need to...go to the bathroom.” He gets up and thinks he manages to mask his...issue, thankful that you have a guest bathroom. Once in there, he slams the door shut and turns on the sink as loudly as possible, allowing himself release...a release for which he feels mildly ashamed, but he eventually cleans himself up and reemerges. 

He’d assumed you’d be in your kitchen, but when he walks in there, you’re nowhere to be found. Spencer sighs deeply, because he knows you better than he knows himself and he knows that, because you’re not in the kitchen, he’ll find you sitting in your room, still in bed wanting to talk. Because he knows you know something’s up with him. 

He adds coffee grounds to the machine and water, turning it on before crossing to your bedroom, to what feels like inevitable doom, at this point. Because he didn’t pull away from you this morning. Because he stared at you until he fell asleep. Because he can’t come up with a simple nickname for you because he wants to call you something altogether more loving than what he’s sure you’ve envisioned. Because he’s in love with you and he’s worried you now know. His steps feel heavy as he walks towards what he’s sure is the inexorable begrudging acceptance he’s managed to avoid for a year. Spencer can feel a lump forming in his throat with the idea that your kindness to him might transform into the mildly resentful behavior of the rest of the team. He’s not sure he could bear even a slightly snide remark from you. It might actually kill him. He enters your room and you look up at him, a bewildered expression on your face.

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sniffs, trying not to cry. His voice is still thick and heavy. It feels like it’s not in his body, as though the sound is coming from somewhere else. He can only really hear his heart, pounding so loudly he can hardly hear anything else. A warmth encompasses his middle and he looks down to see you, your arms wrapping around him, your head pressing into his chest. He wraps his arms around you as the tears begin to fall. 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” he chokes out, really crying now. 

“Darling, why ever would I hate you?”

“Because...because I ruined it, just like I ruin everything,” he sobs. 

“Sweetheart, you never ruin anything,” you coo, rubbing delicate circles into his back. 

“No, I do,” he cries, clinging onto you tighter. He doesn’t want to. He wants to run away, to go hole up in his apartment to try and get over this, but you don’t let go and he can’t seem to make himself let go either. “I ruin everything because I can’t...I can’t be normal. I can’t stop thinking, can’t stop remembering...my brain will never slow down and that’s-that’s why I can’t-”

“Shhh,” you breathe, pulling Spencer closer, if possible. His head nestles its way into the crook of your neck, but you don’t pull away. You begin to tangle your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently combing through it. “Darling, you never ruin anything. Oh my goodness, you brilliant genius, you. You make everything better just by being yourself. And I’m so sad that you can’t see it that way. Normalcy is overrated, anyway. And why else would you be so important to the team? So important to me?” you continue to ramble and Spencer continues to cry, the rumble of your voice calming the rougher edges of his anxiety. “Oh, baby, how long have you felt this way?”

“Forever,” Spencer manages to croak. “Until...until I met you. You make me...you make me feel better. Like it might be okay to...be me.” 

“It’s more than okay to be you, darling. It’s absolutely wonderful,” you whisper. It’s at that moment that it hits him, squarely in the heart. He pulls up his head and stares at you. Your eyes are glassy, your lips set a gentle smile. 

“You called me...you called me ‘darling’. Y-you called me ‘sweetheart’. And...and ‘baby’,” Spencer rasps, not letting you go. It’s barely a question, more of a statement because he can’t quite comprehend what’s happening. 

“Yeah,” you let out on a huge sigh. “Is that alright? A bit more intimate that ‘Stats’, but...it seems more appropriate.”

“How-” Spencer falters, not wanting to let himself believe it. “How is it more appropriate?” You stare up at him, a curious look in your eyes as you consider his face. He can’t breathe anymore. 

“Because I love you.”

Spencer is pretty sure his heart explodes. Because he’s staring at you, profiling your every micro expression, every look in your eyes...and you’re telling the truth. A grin tickles its way onto your mouth. 

“Have I done it again, Stats?” But he doesn’t respond. He cups your face in his hands, taking a deep, elated breath before closing his lips over yours. After what feels like an eternity later, he pulls back from you, but doesn’t let you go, pulling you into an impossibly loving embrace.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers. “I love you so, so very much.” He presses a kiss into your shoulder, into your cheek, into your temple, and another on the top of your head. You giggle into him and it’s like he’s floating on air. 

“I’ve loved you for so long, sweetheart. I thought you knew, I thought you didn’t feel the same way-”

“I couldn’t...believe that someone like you could love me. That’s why I couldn’t come up with a nickname for you because all I wanted to call you was-” he cuts himself off, afraid he’s going too far. You run your hands up his chest, cupping his face in your hands and pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

“What did you want to call me, darling?”

“My love,” he says, so tenderly it feels like the air could break it. The sweetest smile he’s ever seen grows on your face. 

“You are the most extraordinary person I know, Stats,” you say, wiping away the residual tears on his cheeks with your thumbs. “I was worried that I wouldn’t be quite enough for you-”

“You’re perfect,” Spencer interrupts. 

“Nobody’s perfect, Spencer-”

“You’re perfect for me, my love,” he corrects. A beautiful blush glows on your face. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. 

“I could easily say the same about you, darling.”

~ “Nobody is perfect until you fall in love with them.” - Unknown ~

[miekasa]

sorry if you've already answered this, but what do you think the aot character's love languages would be? we know levi's is acts of service, but anybody else?

No worries! I don’t think I’ve answered for everyone before, so I’ll take a shot at it now bc I love thinking about people's love languages 😌

LEVI Gives: acts of service

This is one is talked about a lot, but Levi shows his love most often through doing things for you, even if you haven’t asked anything of him.

He’ll go out of his way to make your life easier and/or more comfortable in any way that he sees fit, and he doesn’t expect the same in return; it truly just makes him happy to know that he could have done something for you.

It includes bigger things like assembling furniture for you, building you something completely from scratch, or cleaning your car for; and also small things like making you a cup of coffee or tea, or even just holding your bag for you after a long day.

Needs: physical touch

Classic touch-starved man who doesn’t outwardly ask for physical touch, but doesn’t back away from it when you initiate it.

After some time, he’d begin to initiate himself, he just needs to get comfortable with the idea of it first; but after he is, it’s really cute to see. Catch him on a lazy morning, and he’s especially touchy; or find him after a long day of work, and he’ll cuddle himself right into your shoulder.

It makes him happy to know that you seek him out for physical comfort, and that he can begin to do the same. Also, he loves the feeling of you playing with his hair, it’s a surefire way to get him to fall asleep.

HANGE Gives: quality time, physical touch

Hange likes spending time with you, and loves roping you into their favorite hobbies, activities, and antics. Even something as simple as a 3 minute FaceTime call to ask them a quick question is enough to put a smile on their face.

They really just like to share their interests with you, and would love it if you did the same! Hange is willing to give everything a try at least twice for you.

Also loves physical touch, maybe not even necessarily in traditionally “romantic” ways either—having their hand around your shoulder to show you something on their phone, knocking into your body while they’re laughing, clapping your hands together out of boredom—all simple touches that make Hange happy.

Needs: gifts

Hange looooves presents, and you can’t prove me wrong. To them, it’s really touching to know that you would take the time to pick out or make something that you think they would like.

They cherish any and every gift you get them, even if it’s something as tiny and routine as bringing them a coffee during a busy a day at work, Hange never takes it for granted.

(And they also go on and brag about it to anyone who will listen, “Ah did you see my baby brought me coffee for lunch? Just how I like it too, they know me so well!”)

EREN Gives: quality time, words of affirmation

Quality time for Eren can also be mistaken as him spending all of his free time annoying the hell out of you, but it’s really just him being Loving.

When he’s not annoying you, he really does just like to be in the same space as you, even if you’re doing your own things. He likes having you around because you comfort him even if you’re not directly speaking to or interacting with him.

Words of affirmation come out of him in a very matter-of-fact tone. It’s almost as if he’s not consciously trying to affirm you or flatter you.

To him, he’s just saying what he believes is an objective truth: of course he thinks you’re smart and talented and pretty and fun to be around. If those things make you feel good, then it’s a bonus, but really, he just means it like it’s a fact of the universe.

Needs: gifts, physical touch

He’s not the best at giving gifts, but he does love to receive them, and honestly, he’s very humbled and flattered whenever you give him something that you clearly put a lot of time and/or effort into.

He almost feels undeserving of it, but he loves it all the same, and he really does cherish it. Even if it’s something as generic as a pair of shoes he was talking about, it still means a lot to him that you would remember and buy them for him.

Once he gets a taste of physical touch, he doesn’t know how to let go. All sense of personal space is out of the window, and this goes hand in hand with quality time once he discovers it.

Loves it when you touch him: play with his hair, play with or hold his hands, hug him out of the blue. Also loves to touch you, though he seems to not understand the size of his body when he’s draping himself over your shoulders, or has his leg over your thigh while you’re sitting on the bus.

ARMIN Gives: gifts

To him, it’s the simplest way to express himself without embarrassing himself by potentially tripping over his words. Also, gifts can be given remotely, so he doesn’t have to sit around worrying if you’ll love it or hate it while you open it.

Though, he certainly gains a lot of confidence over time, he still likes to leave you little presents to find when he’s not around. Something as small as buying your favorite candy and putting it in your coat pocket, or leaving flowers at your place.

He’s also very thoughtful, and when he does get you a bigger gift, or something to celebrate an occasion, he always makes sure it’s perfect.

He does it to make you happy, and when you’re happy, it makes him happy.

Needs: words of affirmation

He won’t ask for it, but it’s really reassuring to hear, and it makes him feel really good, and relieved to know that the person he loves thinks highly of him.

If you told him you’re proud of him, he might… he really might malfunction a bit, but your words would stick with him. The next time he was going through something hard or even just doubting himself, he’d remember what you said to him and it would give him a little push to get through it (and maybe be nicer to himself as a consequence).

Not necessarily an affirmation, but it also flatters him to hear that you think he’s attractive. Though, be careful when and how you say this, because he’s very… easy to excite.

MIKASA Gives: words of affirmation, acts of service

Mikasa lets you know how much you mean to her, and how much you mean to everyone in your life all the time. She doesn’t want you to ever feel like you’re less than you are.

She loves hearing about your progress or achievements in work/school and is quick to tell you that she’s happy for you and proud of you.

She’ll also do anything she can to help you out, so acts of service a big thing for her. She doesn’t want you to have to go out of your way to do something she could handle for you.

That isn’t to say that she thinks you’re incapable of fending for yourself; rather, that she would like to ease your pain whenever and wherever she can.

Needs: quality time

She doesn’t realize how much she likes/needs this until you guys start spending more time together; and it’s in your absence that she finds herself missing you more than she’d anticipated.

She doesn’t even mind sitting idly by while you’re busy or doing work, so long as she gets to be by your side. It also brings her a sense of comfort to be able to take care of you during this time; having snack breaks with you, occasional tangent conversations, and reminding you to rest when necessary.

She finds that one of the simplest means of quality time is sleeping next to each other; whether it be for a nap, or going to bed, it’s a kind of intimacy she never thought she’d crave, but comes to really, really enjoy.

JEAN Gives: quality time, gifts

Just. Just let Jean tag along to whatever you’re doing like a little golden retriever and he’ll be so damn happy. It doesn’t matter what—buying makeup, going on a walk, heading to the grocery store—he just likes spending time with you.

Though he—and anyone who expresses themselves in quality time—completely understands there are moments where you need to be by yourself. But if you don’t mind him being there, then he’ll take the opportunity to be with you.

He looooves to give presents, and even though he can get kind of embarrassed by it and try to play it off as nonchalant, he’s quite thoughtful and romantic with his gifts.

Needs: quality time, physical touch

He loves doing what you’re doing, but he would also love to have you around when he’s chilling or running errands or doing whatever, too. He doesn’t care, Jean just likes talking to you, and will take any opportunity to hear you speak to him and be around him.

He shows a normal amount of physical touch and/or PDA throughout your relationship, but really casual and gentle touches by you mean the world to him. When he feels you stroking his face when you think he’s asleep, wrapping your arms around one of his habitually when you’re sleepy after a night out, putting your hands on his face when you kiss him—all those things mean the world to him.

I don’t know if this would fall into words of affirmation, but he also likes it when you tell him that you find him attractive. Call him handsome once and he’ll be thinking about it for the rest of the month. Tell him he’s pretty and you might even get him to blush.

CONNIE Gives: quality time

Similar to Eren, his quality time is most commonly expressed through a little game he likes to call “how many times can I annoy my girlfriend in the span of twenty minutes.”

You could be chilling like normal, having a casual night in and Connie will just come bursting in your room like the loudest mf on the planet, with Monopoly in his left hand, and a six pack of beers in his right.

He lives for doing stupid (borderline illegal) shit with you, and to his credit, you’ve never gotten caught. He really just likes to hang with you and make you laugh and make memories the both of you won’t ever forget.

Needs: acts of service

Help this man. No, really, literally, help him, even if he says he doesn’t need help, he’ll appreciate it in the end.

From stuff like tutoring him for a class, to packing him lunches (beyond Lunchables, but inclusive of a strawberry-kiwi CapriSun, nonetheless); it’s a love language Connie didn’t even think he would like.

He fucking loves it though and never shuts up about anything you might do for him; always thanks you a million times and puts you in a loving chokehold and pinches your cheeks in appreciation.

SASHA Gives: words of affirmation

She’s really good at comforting you, or even just making you feel good about yourself. Sasha might not even realize how much her positive outlook on you might mean, but she sure does love to tell you how much you mean to her.

Adores singing your praises and rewarding you with compliments all the time. She’s so sweet and she doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. Best girl.

Needs: gifts

Sasha loves presents in all shapes in forms: birthday presents, anniversary presents, planned presents, surprise presents. Doesn’t matter, she’s happy to receive any and all of them.

She looks at the gifts you get her with sparkles in her eyes and the widest grin on her face. It means the world to her that you would get her something she loves and she appreciates it so much.

Takes extra special care of your gifts too. If you got her one of something she collects, the ones you give her have their own little special place in her collection and she loves to show them off whenever people ask about them.

PIECK Gives: acts of service, physical touch

Pieck will do just about anything for you, and if she can’t, she’ll commission someone else to get it done for the both of you. (Someone being Porco and Reiner if this act involves lifting or carrying anything heavy).

She adores the smile on your face after she tells you she’s taken care of something you were putting off or having trouble doing; it makes her whole day to see you happy and relieved to have one less task on your to-do list.

She definitely does things because it makes her happy to see you happy, but there’s a small part of her that’s not above admitting she likes to be rewarded for it, too. Even something as small as a hug will do 😌

That’s also where the physical touch comes in: Pieck is kind of handsy, an almost unexpectedly protective kind of way. It’s equal parts of her liking to show you off and have her hands on you, and making sure nobody else thinks about doing the same.

Needs: quality time

Once she discovers the joy of having someone else to laze around with, take naps with, and do… questionable antics with, Pieck feels like she’s discovered the true meaning of life.

Adores when you ask to come along with her to run errands, or when you show interest in any of her many hobbies. She comes to find that she loves sharing them with you.

Napping together is a must, and if you think she’ll let you out of her hold just because your leg cramped or you have to use the bathroom, then think again. There’s a minimum of three one-hour naps per week with her.

PORCO Gives: acts of service, gifts

Gifts might come as a surprise for him, but he’s got a good memory, so when he sees something you’ve been talking about, he’ll just pick it up/buy it for you.

Could be anything from a new pair of house slippers, to a pair of earrings you showed him once. If he sees it and remembers you wanted it, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll just get it. You can’t say he never did anything for you.

He approaches acts of service the same way, and usually does things he knows he can handle doing for you, like cleaning your car, cooking you dinner, or giving you a massage.

He can get kinda smug about it tho, going off about how you’re his little baby and that you need him to take care of you, as if he didn’t go out of his way to do these things, unprompted 🙄

Needs: physical touch

He’s not going out of his way to do extreme PDA, but he’s not hiding it either; if he feels like touching you, he will. But the first time you initiate it, or the first time you touch him in a gentle way, he’s such a goner.

He doesn’t even know how to process it at a first, and when he does he feels stupid and embarrassed for even liking it, but he certainly likes it that for damn sure.

He gets kinda cranky if you don’t cuddle up to him or hold his hand or poke his cheek (even though he claims it’s oh so annoying, you know he likesssss it).

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || soft!dark baron zemo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : he’s a baron, you’re just the maid.  you literally can’t afford to say no to him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (dubcon, oral m receiving, fingering, loss of virginity), innocence kink, ‘sir’ kink, quid pro quo harassment (raise in exchange for sex), zemo being kinda mean but then Soft again c:, slight degradation but it’s not verbal it’s like... with actions?? idk, sensual candy-feeding, more reconstructed sokovian (this time I used the cyrillic, latin and translations at the bottom)

                     You really, really needed this job.

That was what you reminded yourself when your boss, the Baron himself, came out of the master bathroom in only a robe, carrying a glass of vodka and staring down at where you were cleaning his floor.  

He seemed to get a kick out of making you slightly uncomfortable like this, in those little ways that you were too naïve to really understand, but being a member of a Baron’s house staff was an opportunity too prestigious to squander.

Perhaps some would never see a maid’s job as prestigious, but compared to your other options, it was easily the best choice.

You didn’t look back up at him, afraid to see more than you bargained for, but his gaze made you want to tug down on the hem of your dress uniform… yet left you feeling paralyzed so you couldn’t actually do it.

He lingered there, standing right beside where you were polishing the hardwood, and the moment lasted far too long until you just had to say something.

“Should I stop, sir?” you asked awkwardly, your own voice sounding weaker out loud than it did in your head.

“No, keep cleaning,” he encouraged, finally stepping around you to take a seat in his lounge chair.

Even though you felt a bit odd about it, it wasn’t the first time he had watched you clean (just the first time while wearing so little), so you did your best to shrug it off and keep going, which you managed to do for a few minutes.

It got slightly more awkward when the area you had to clean was right by his feet, which made his staring all the more conspicuous as you tried to hold up your neckline so he couldn’t see down the uniform.

A crinkling sound caught your attention, and you looked up to see him toying with a wrapped candy, the lid off of the decorative silver vase on a credenza nearby.  You’d always wondered what he kept in there...

He caught you looking, a smirk tugging at his lips as he raised an eyebrow.  “A Turkish delight,” he explained as he waved the candy between his fingers.  “They’re rather exquisite, and an unfortunate vice of mine.  Would you like one?”

It seemed like an offer in earnest though you couldn’t imagine what would motivate him to share candy with his staff.  His motives were always quite mysterious anyhow, and you didn’t see any harm in it, so you reached out to him and opened your palm to accept the candy.

He shook his head, his eyes getting a bit darker as their gaze pierced right through you.  A sinking feeling filled your gut as you realized what he wanted, and you slowly opened your mouth.

He delicately placed the candy on your tongue, the flavor of the powdered sugar coating hitting you first.  

When you closed your lips and hesitantly began to sink your teeth into it, the texture wasn’t what you expected at all— nor the flavor, which you were a little too poor to recognize as rosewater though you still appreciated the delicate floral notes.

It was delightful; you couldn’t help but smile as you continued to chew, and he smiled at you as well— significantly less mischievously than he could have.  “Do you like it?” he asked.

You nodded, but froze when he reached up to wipe sugar off your lips with his thumb.

“I suppose you could never afford candy like that before,” he posited, sitting back again.

Swallowing the sticky remains of the sweet, you replied, “I don’t think I could afford it now, either, sir…”

For a second the glimmer in his eye made you wonder if you’d spoken out of turn, and you anxiously looked down to your hands in your lap as he leaned in a bit closer, speaking in a hushed tone.  “Maybe you could, if you got a raise, hm?”

Confused about what he wanted from you, you simply nodded slightly.

“Would you like to earn one?”

Suddenly the aftertaste wasn’t so sweet anymore, and you got that strange icky feeling when you knew something was wrong but you didn’t know exactly what.  “If… if a raise is a sign of a job well done,” you finally managed to form an answer, “then I’d like to do my job well, sir.”

“You do your job very well,” he assured, “I’m talking about a new job.  Consider it… an opportunity for advancement.”

His hand reached down to slip around your wrist, gently pulling you up a bit until you were kneeling between his legs.  You jumped a bit when your fingers grazed over his leg, and he kept moving your touch higher as he stared down at you.  “I… um, don’t know how to do anything else, sir,” you stalled, heart racing slightly as you watched him guide your hand higher and higher up his leg, under the hem of the fluffy robe, past where you could see.

“I’ll teach you, don’t be afraid,” he whispered right against your ear, and you tried not to be but it was a bit scary when you felt him wrap your hand around his cock, so much warmer than the rest of him and growing harder in your palm.

A little, uneven exhale left your mouth when you didn’t mean it to, and he breathed along with you which helped to calm you slightly.  “I’ve never… I don’t…” you stammered.  “I’m not good at this.”

“You will be, it just takes practice,” he promised, sounding a bit more hoarse; you felt his precum smear over your fingers as he helped you stroke him, and it made your movements a little easier even if it made your gut twist harder.

He leaned back and relaxed in the chair, letting go of your hand to let you keep going on your own.  It gave you a bit more room to breathe, but it left you with no excuse for your actions, no one else to blame when his legs spread and you saw his cock fully hard in all its pride and glory, flexing slightly in your hand whenever you reached the tip and moved back down.

Taking it as a sign you were on the right track, you kept going and occasionally gathered the bravery to look up at his face in search of approval.  Each time you found him staring back at you with dark eyes, and it made you feel this most inexplicable feeling… almost like fear, but with something oddly pleasurable about it.

“You can use your mouth now,” he said like it was an offer, an allowance, but you didn’t even really know how to do that.  You’d definitely heard about it before, from your more worldly friends, but your cheeks were heating up at the idea of trying and doing it totally wrong.

“Show me how, sir, please,” you requested weakly, and much to your relief he grinned widely.

“Okay, кошеня, I’ll show you,” he breathed, reaching up to cradle your face in his hand and guide you closer.  “Open your mouth and I’ll put it in for you.”

You did as you were told even though it was definitely more intimidating this up close, thankful that you didn’t really taste much of anything when he put his swollen head on your outstretched tongue.

“Now close your lips and suck, not too hard, just like a candy,” he explained, hissing when you did your best to recreate what he said.  You pulled back right away with wide eyes, thinking you might have hurt him.  

“Am I doing it right?” you asked quickly.  He seemed a bit irritated as he pulled you back down roughly, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.

“Yes, you can’t stop until I tell you,” he explained.  You wanted to apologize but that would’ve required stopping, too, so you just kept going and humming a bit whenever you tasted that slight saltiness at the back of your throat.  “Блять, that’s right, see?  I knew you’d be a quick learner.”

Happy to hear you were doing it properly, you sucked a bit harder and kept your lips slack so he could bob your head however he wanted.

When the tip bumped into the back of your throat, you gagged right away and figured you were definitely doing something wrong.  But either he didn’t notice or didn’t mind, because he made you do it again and again— perhaps he even liked it, considering you heard a tense groan from above you and felt him hold your face a bit tighter.  

“I’m going to come, кошеня,” he grunted, “and you need to swallow it all, okay?  It’s worth a lot more than that expensive candy, I assure you.  But don’t swallow it until I say so.”

You tightened your fingers where they clutched his thigh, since you couldn’t respond any other way.  Not being able to breathe was beginning to make you light-headed, and the sounds of his quiet moans made a rare (but not entirely unfamiliar) feeling burn between your legs.

He swore a few more times, sometimes in English and sometimes in Sokovian, as he roughly used your mouth, and you didn’t realize he was coming until you felt it all threatening to spill out from your lips and around his member.

But you, being diligent as ever, were careful not to let a drop go to waste as he sighed and slowed down, guiding you slowly off of him.

As tempting as it was to swallow it already, especially since the taste was a little odd, you kept your lips sealed tight and blinked up at him, hoping the tears running down your cheeks wouldn’t bother him and waiting for further instruction.

“Open your mouth, show me,” he breathed, nostrils flaring as if he was angry (though you really hoped he wasn’t).  He groaned proudly when you did so, sticking your tongue out and letting his seed gather there.  “Блять, good job… you can swallow it now.”

You put your tongue back and swallowed, but you were a bit too slow and some of it dripped onto the floor first.  He leaned forward slightly to look at it, tutting disapprovingly.

“That just won’t do, you need to clean that up,” he explained.  You turned back to reach for your cleaning supplies but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.  “No, sweetheart, not like that.  With your mouth, same way you made the mess..”

“Oh,” you whispered, leaning down and lapping up the drops with your tongue, noticing that it was a bit closer to room temperature now which made it taste worse such that your nose crinkled at the flavor.  Still, you swallowed it, too, and sat back up to look at him.

You wanted to ask if you did well, but considering the way he was smiling at you while he caught his breath, his exposed chest rising and falling along with that necklace he seemed to wear all the time, made you confident enough that he was happy with your work, and you smiled slightly.

“I think you’ve almost earned your raise,” he broke the silence, and your smile fell.  There’s more?!  “Why don’t you get up and bend over the bed.”

Your throat was a little sore now, so your shocked and empty swallow stung a bit, but you couldn’t help it; for all your inexperience you had a few ideas about what that meant.

“Sir, I—”

“Did I not speak clearly?” he snarled, making you cower slightly.  “Get up.  And bend over the bed.  Pull up that little skirt for me, too.”

Even though an uncomfortable shudder crawled up your spine, you nodded and stood up, finding your legs a bit shakier than they should’ve been.

You’d made his bed a thousand times but never thought to lay on it, so you felt a little strange bending yourself over the edge, and you tried to avoid meeting his gaze as you reached back to pull your uniform up to your hips.  You heard him hum but didn’t hear him get out of the chair, and you wondered if he was going to do anything at all.

“Are you… just going to look?” you wondered aloud.

“No,” he answered quickly, “I’m going to fuck you.  But I’m going to do it on my own time.  You can wait.”

And he sure did take his time, eating one more candy and finishing off his tumbler of vodka before he finally stood up and shed his robe; you felt his hands on your butt first, fingertips slipping under your panties delicately only to roughly tear them off.  You squealed slightly at that, biting your lip to keep it down, but he heard you and chuckled as he slapped your bare ass.

“I knew you were hiding something lovely underneath your uniform, кошеня,” he sighed, “I may need to make sure you never hide yourself from me again.  I always wanted to make you clean the house naked.”

Another spank made you wince and lurch forward, but another pang of heat hit between your legs, too— you hadn’t expected to enjoy this so much, but after all the anticipation you just needed him to get it over with.

Even if you honestly didn’t know that much about the ‘it’ he intended to do to you.

“How much do you know about sex?” he asked bluntly, apparently reading your mind somehow.

“Sex,” you repeated shakily, “is… something husbands and wives do…”

“Right,” he agreed, “but is that all you know?  Do you even know how good you can feel?”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, reaching down to slide his fingers slowly over your pussy, your legs quivering right away.  When he focused on one spot, rubbing in circles gently, your back arched of its own accord.

“Have you ever touched yourself here?  Made yourself come?” he continued, pressing down a bit harder until you whimpered.

“N-no, sir,” you breathed, squirming as you felt yourself approaching the edge of… something, something you never knew you needed.

But of course, he had to stop just then and push his two fingers inside you as you cried out.  “Just that hurts you?” he realized, watching you nod and pout.  “Oh, кошеня, you have no hope of taking my cock… you may not be able to get your raise after all.”

“Please, sir,” you whimpered, “I can take it, I’ll be good— please…”

He twisted his fingers inside you and your legs quivered but you were determined to prove you could do this, so you ignored the sting and kept on breathing, hardly capable of believing how deep his fingers reached.  

A third finger made your eyes start to roll back in your head, especially when all of them curled against a spot that made your toes curl inside the sensible heels you were made to wear at work each day.  Oddly enough, you found yourself rocking back onto his fingers in search of more, wanting him to push harder on that spot until you could finally reach that feeling you were blindly searching for.

“You need it so badly, кошеня,” he growled, “I’m trying to be gentle with you.  Is that not what you want?”

“J-just a little more, please,” you begged, whining when he instead pulled them all out and left you painfully empty.

“I’ll give you more, don’t you worry about that,” he promised cryptically, and you gasped at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your opening.  You were so wet that as he slid his length over your folds, you coated him with your arousal in mere moments.  “I think you’re ready for me, sweetheart.”

You, meanwhile, weren’t so convinced; your gut sank as you tried to imagine how something as thick as his cock would ever fit inside you, but he didn’t consult your opinion on the matter before he lined himself up and pushed forward.

He was kind enough to move slowly, leaning down to wrap your body in his as he filled you.  His hands slipped around and clutched yours, and you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was meant to soothe or restraint you.

“Бля, ти така гарна,” he breathed, squeezing your fingers between his.  You turned to rest your face on the silky comforter, a tear still making its way down your cheek which he tenderly kissed away.  “Don’t cry, it’s all right,” he whispered.  “I’m not going to move yet, just breathe.  It’s not going to hurt much longer.”

Tightening your jaw and breathing through your teeth was the best you could manage at the time, trying your best to relax since every time you tensed up, it hurt more.

“Так тугий,” he hissed against your ear as he finally found the end of you and his hips met the back of your legs, “і все моє.”

He stayed still until the pain faded, though you still winced slightly when he eventually did move again, pulling back only to push forward and fill you deeper, if possible, than before.

You felt him hitting that spot again, the one he found with his fingers before, and your whines started to soothe into moans and gasps.

“See?  I knew you would like it,” he whispered proudly, “I knew you’d take me so well.”

He trailed kisses in abstract patterns over your neck and shoulders, gentle at first but soon enough becoming wet and sharp with his tongue and teeth, the pace of his thrusts picking up along with it.

“Так добре, така добра дівчина,” he groaned, “fuck, do you feel how deep am I inside you, sweetheart?  That’s how deep my come will be when I’m finished.”

Honestly, it was starting to feel so good that you couldn’t find the will to protest that.

“And then you’ll be mine forever,” he added, under his breath, so quiet that you could barely hear it.  But you did hear it, and you couldn’t explain why it made you moan louder, or made your walls grip him encouragingly.

Your toes curled again, your legs even started kicking a bit, when he slammed into you every time, the sound of his skin on yours and of your drenched channel being filled echoing around the ornate bedroom.  Thoughts of everything wrong about this were banished as your mind became a blank slate, you couldn’t even form words anymore (not that you were trying to) as your mouth fell slack and your body became a pliant vessel for his desire.

The edge was so close now, and you wondered if you should try to stave it off— but before you could even consider it, he bit down on your shoulder and you were pushed right over all at once, gasping his name as pleasure overtook you from your head to your toes.

“Good girl, keep going,” he instructed roughly, “don’t stop coming for me.”

You couldn’t if you tried.

Tears fell again, but for entirely different reasons than the first two times.  He whispered praises in your ear, in a few languages you understood and a few you didn’t, keeping you falling into it as long as he wanted you to.  You were so helpless to him now, your body going limp and your eyes fluttering shut, and you didn’t even mind it at all.  

It went on for quite some time, it seemed, and though his stamina was impressive it was entirely unnecessary since you had already exhausted yourself of whatever maximum number of orgasms you could have in a row.

Finally, his desperation started to kick in and you could feel him getting rougher and losing his rhythm as his moans got louder yet deeper.  “I’m about to fill you up, кошеня, are you ready?”

You barely managed to nod through the fog, and it only took him a few more seconds before he squeezed your hands just a bit too tight and stopped moving.  There was a little delay before you felt the heat of it inside you, the feeling impossible to describe but instantly addictive.  As if you weren’t already feeling full before, now you felt stuff to the brim, and even when he pulled out you could still feel it— even when most of it seemed to drip down your thighs.

“There you go again, making another mess,” he sighed, “and this time on such a lovely comforter… I won’t make you lick it up this time, you look too pretty laying there fucked-out and braindead.”

Those words probably should’ve encouraged you to move and prove him wrong, but instead you were happier than ever to just lay there and soak in the afterglow.

He laid beside you on the bed, pulling your body to rest on top of his, stroking your hair while he caught his breath.  “You won’t just be getting a raise, sweetheart, but a very important promotion,” he mumbled.

As enticing as that sounded, up until that moment you’d forgotten about the raise entirely.

//

кошеня = kitty/kitten

Блять - fuck

Бля, ти така гарна = fuck, you’re so beautiful

Так тугий, і все моє = so tight, and all mine

Так добре, така добра дівчина = so good, such a good girl

[witch-hazels-musings]

scaramouche, diluc, and childe with a [gn] reader whos terrified of needles?

Needle Fear

Warning -> General, sfw (mention of needles, getting a shot, cussing (S), sudden kiss (Ch))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Childe, Diluc, Scaramouche 

Childe

Not only has Childe seen many sicknesses and many healers, but he’s also had to help his siblings through any and all visits they had to take - so it wasn’t unusual for him when you nearly begged him to visit the healers with you

There was something adorable about the way you tightly gripped onto his hand, the way you hid behind him just enough when you walked down the hall to the examination room, the way you glanced at him or turned to him every time you heard a person walk past the door. How could he not think you were adorable? 

“Childe, it’s gonna hurt.” Your fingers curled around his shirt as you pulled him closer to you. His comforting scent and tall frame were like a barrier between you and the door you didn’t want to see. 

“It’ll be okay, I have to do this all the time.” 

“Really?” He nodded his head and lifted your chin. The smile on his face was reassuring and, for a moment, as his fingers rested against you, you forgot where you even were. That was until you heard the click of the door and the sound of footsteps. 

“Hey there, are we ready?” They entered the room and set their items on the small table next to you but all you could respond with was shifting closer into the shield you’d made out of Childe. 

“Hey, it’ll be alright. Wanna know why?” He leaned down, his arms spanning either side of you while his palms pressed into the mattress you sat on. The soft cool of his eyes brought you a reprieve, a distraction from the current environment and as you looked at him, you shook your head signaling him to continue. “I’ll be here the whole time, right here, that’s why it’ll be okay.” 

After a moment, you gave in - how could you not when he was so comforting to you. “O-okay, I’m ready.” Your hands moved to grab onto his wrists and as you heard the healer begin to prepare their items, you continued to stare at Childe. “Don’t move.” 

“I won't.” You nodded again, your eyes drifting to the healer, and when they ran a cool, cleansing cloth over your arm you tensed. “Look at me, it’s okay.” Their hand wrapped around your arm to hold you steady and your head twisted in fear.

“Childe --- I can’t … hold o-” Your words were cut off by his lips, his fingers wrapping around your jaw as he pulled you back to him. The suddenness of his kiss blocked out everything else, the heat of his lips, the fullness of his connection, it was all so distracting. 

“All done.” You pulled away, your gaze dropping to the small bandage they placed onto your arm. When did they do that?

“See, I told you it would be simple.” Childe smiled at you and you hid your embarrassment in the palm of your hand. 

Diluc

He couldn’t count the times he’s had to experience this type of care - from the constant exams done in the Knights of Favonious, to the aid he received during his three mysterious years - getting something like this was just common practice to him at this point - plus, it only took a few moments and then it was over, so it wasn’t that bad 

Though, as he watched the way you fussed, worried, and nearly drew yourself to sickness at the idea, he recalled a memory of his childhood. If he could do it for you, he would, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and he was going to need to find some other way to keep you steady 

Diluc stood next to you, his body angled in such a way that he could keep you in his line of sight while also observing the door. You didn’t dare turn around so instead, you looked out the window as you held onto your arms with a grip that hurt your fingers. 

“I don’t like this.” You muttered, watching the workers meander through the vineyards. It would have been better if you could just be with them, hide in between the many dangling grapes, and as far away from this situation as you could get. 

“I know, I’ve been assured this person is very experienced. You should have nothing to fear.” 

“Save for the whole needle part, archons, why do we even need this.” You shook your head and moved closer to the window. 

“It will only take a moment, I’ll be here the whole time.” Turning your attention away from the outside world, you gazed up at Diluc. His neutral expression surrounded by lively hair was somehow more comforting than anything you’d ever come upon in your whole lifetime. He was your rock, steadfast and sturdy, and as his fingers grazed your arm, ran over your ear, you knew his words held true. 

“Oka--” 

“Master Diluc, the healer.” You turned and saw one of the maids ushering in a young woman whose brightness lit up the room. You recognized her from the church and immediately you felt more at ease. Quickly, the instruments were prepared and as you settled onto the bed, your eyes found the one thing you were most anxious about. 

“I know you’re scared,” She began, pulling a chair close to you while she explained the process. “I’ll clean your arm with this,” She pointed to the small tin before continuing, “then I’ll gently take your arm and give you the shot.” 

“It’ll hurt, right.” You whispered, shifting uncomfortably to make more space. 

“For a very brief second. Then it’ll be over.” Her smile was so warm and you knew she must have done this quite often. 

“I’m sure it’s silly to see a grown adult so afraid of needles.” 

“Not as silly as you would imagine, are you ready?” You looked at her and nodded your head slowly but when she began the process, you turned away and closed your eyes. That’s when you felt the bed dip and a warm heat spread across your body. 

“I’m right here.” Diluc’s voice was soft, and sent a shiver down your spine - or was that the cleaning salv? It didn’t matter because as soon as your face found his chest, you disappeared into his warmth and security. All you felt was his hand over your ear, all you heard was the pounding of his heart; you weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, but by the time you looked up the healer was gone but Diluc had stayed. 

Scaramouche 

He didn’t understand your aversion to something so small. How could one little thing cause you to break down into a panic, it’s not like it could really hurt you - he’s felt much worse in his lifetime

So when you begged him to go with you, pleaded practically on your knees, he was stuck between his irritation of your complaints and how cute you were with those pouting lips and watering eyes (how adorable you look, he’ll never tell you though)

“It’s not that bad, just be quiet for one minute.” Scara pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed so loud you were sure people outside of the room could hear him. Of course, he’d be annoyed, you literally dragged him here to your check-up just so you could have someone with you when they … when they brought out the needle. Why did they need to do this to you anyway, weren’t there healers all around Teyvat that could cure you with a flick of their wrist. The fact that they also had instruments like these was confounding. 

“I know, I’m sorry …” You bit your lip and turned away from him. Your eyes finding the sheets and fingers moving to poke at your gums, teeth clenching hard around your nails. This habit was one you developed a long time ago and while you managed to curb it during most activities but when you were stressed and uncomfortable it reared its head. 

You heard the sound of Scara’s voice and turned to look at him but were interrupted by the healer entering the room. “Hello, are you ready?” As soon as they placed the items close to you, you went stiff. You wanted so badly to be calm but it was … impossible, look at that thing! Eyes darting to Scara you slipped into pleading but did your best to keep your thoughts to yourself. 

“Will it hurt?” Scara asked as he watched them prepare the needle and syringe. 

“Only for a second, I promise you won’t even notice it.” They looked at you but all your eyes could see was the large pointy metal bit that was about to go right through your skin and as a child reaches for their parent in the darkness, you grabbed onto Scara’s clothes. 

“Fine, give me one. I’ll show you there isn’t anything to be scared about.” Quickly, he rolled up his sleeves and after the healer prepared a second needled, they held his arm while he looked in your direction. 

“Ready?”

“Get it over with.” You watched as the needle moved to his arm, your head shaking but he seemed so calm. “See there is nothing to -- FUCK WHAT THE .. SHIT!?” His sudden outburst startled both you and the healer, but their professionalism powered through until it was all done. 

“Wasn’t that bad … huh?” You laughed, your hand covering your mouth as you watched him stare daggers into the person at his side. 

“Shut up, I’m leaving.” 

“Wait! I still haven’t gotten mine!!” 

“Too bad, you’re on your own.” 

“Scara!” He pushed his way through the door and you heard him shouting indiscernibly down the hall. 

“Are you ready?” The healer asked, and you began to bite your nails.  

--

tag list:

@sufzku @plenilunegazes @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt @fuwon @aoirohi @anatthesavage @actstfbla @shy-specter @fvushiguros @kaidou-pie @cyphermagic @linarizaki

[softyoongiionly]

Power Trip

You and Jungkook make a bet to see who can last the longest in bed. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff

Warnings: explicit smut, oral (f receiving), spit, swearing, fingering, Jungkook

A/N: If I ever tell you I don’t have a bias wrecker, call me a liar. Also this one is for @bulletproofbirdy​, I hope Jungkook can lift your spirits. I love you so much! also, this unedited cause im the worst :D This can be read in the same universe as my fic Press Start btw! 

He smirks, “You really wanna go there?”

You shrug, “I’m just saying- I know I can last longer than you can, that’s all.”

At this, his brows raise as a short and unimpressed laugh leaves his lips, “What led you to that conclusion?”

From the opposite end of the couch, you feel him staring at you. His competitive nature is simple minded and easily baited into situations where it’s able to prove itself; Jungkook simply cannot resist a challenge.

“I mean-” You bite your lip, “You are usually begging me to cum at some point...”

His smirk only broadens, “Oh? And you think I do that for my benefit?”

Oh.  

Staring into his eyes, the two of you regard one another for a moment, sexual tension floating aimlessly in the air above you.  

“I want you to consider the fact that you’re looking your fiancé in the eye and, telling her that you’re faking something in bed...”

Jungkook finally laughs at that, his head falling back on his shoulders momentarily, “Whoa whoa whoa- I never said I was faking it, I just said I wasn’t doing it for my benefit. I beg you to cum because, I know you like it- not because I can’t control myself.”

“Oh so it isn’t that you’re faking it- it's just not as good as you make it out to be...” You clarify, voice loaded with sarcasm, “That’s so much better.”

Jungkook clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth, “You know that isn’t what I'm saying...”

You cross your arms, trying your best not to notice how good your fiancé looks lit up by candlelight, “No actually, I don’t know that.”

He knows he needs to choose his next words carefully because, this conversation can go one of two ways. One, the two of you spend an undetermined amount of time tangled up in one another and two, he ends up in the doghouse.

“Well you should-” He insists, “Because I don’t lie. I’ve told you that you’re the best I’ve ever had and, I meant that. All I’m saying is that I can make you cum first- and that has nothing to do with how good you are. It's just how bad I want to make you cum...”

You feel your lips twitch, “Even if that very convenient explanation were true- it doesn’t change the fact that I can last longer than you...”

Jungkook chuckles finally and the sound of it sends a shiver up your spine. He jerks his chin towards you, “You wanna bet?”

Your teeth find your bottom lip as you feel your heartbeat increase slightly, “What are your terms?”

He shrugs but his palms are already itching with the desire to touch you, “Who ever cums first loses...”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, nudging your foot against his leg, “Yeah I got that part but, how are we going to do this?

Again he shrugs but this time the smirk creeps back onto his mouth, “Oh well- if you’re asking that, this really isn’t going to be a fair fight...”

He’s such a little shit.  

Your lips part with shock whilst your eyes blink owlishly at him before you decide that you’ve had enough of his attitude.  Flipping the covers over your head, you work your way across the couch until you’re positioned between Jungkook’s legs. He snickers when you maneuver the covers over your head, doing his best to assist you until you’re finally free from the endless swath of blankets.  

“H-” Jungkook opens his mouth to make another comment but, your lips stop him from doing so.  

You’re irritated with his goading but, you know that you can’t just start roughly making out with him in order to turn him on; you have to take things slowly.

Situated atop the seam of his grey sweatpants, you press your hips down carefully whilst you kiss him. He’s lost in your mouth the moment he feels it, his fingers coming up to brush over the apples of your cheeks. They encase your face moments later and, you make a conscious effort to ignore how good this is. He tastes like the sweet mint mouthwash he uses but, the rest of him smells like amber and vanilla.  

Outdoing Jungkook is so much easier said than done.

But what you don’t know is that he isn’t fairing much better.  

The softness of your lips and the tiniest instabilities in your breath are going straight to his dick. His hands find themselves sliding at a snail-like pace up the backs of your thighs and, god he can’t help himself as he grips at the flesh there. He always says he would die happily in between your thighs and even though you laugh, he’s dead serious. They are so perfect.

Deep in the trenches of his muscular chest, he groans when you grind against him. His breath coming out much shakier through his nose before he finally pulls away,

“Bedroom?”

You hum, pecking his at his mouth again, “What about it?”

Jungkook smacks your ass suddenly and just as you yelp, he’s recapturing your lips all over again. Only this time, he starts leaning you backwards towards the couch and it’s many blankets.  

“Do you want it here?” He breathes, “There isn’t a lot of room...”

He’s right.  

The couch is good for cuddling and making out but, actual sex is usually out of the question- especially when it’s so cold in your house.

Moments later, Jungkook is throwing the massive pile of blankets onto your bed and, just as he’s about to climb up there, you stop him by cupping his face in your hands. Your grip is gentle and your lips follow suit, plucking against his minty mouth. In the midst of kissing him, you reach behind his head, feeling around for the scrunchie holding up his mane of hair. Once you locate it, you carefully pull back until his pretty face is curtained with ebony tendrils.  

He doesn’t question your decision. In fact, there isn’t much Jungkook would question right now. His attention is on you and, your deadly assault on his composure. When he feels your fingers tuck into his hair, he realizes he’s beginning to forget the reason why he needs his composure in the first place.

“You’re so handsome,” You whisper, “like a prince...”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at your comment whilst his hands reach out to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against him. His palms travel up your back, cursing the thick fabric of your hoodie for being in the way. He knows it’s practical but, he doesn’t care. He wants to touch you.  

“I’m cold-” You pout into his mouth, “Can we get in bed?”

He returns your pout and nudges your nose before reluctantly removing his hands from your back, “Yeah...let’s go.”

Jungkook unturns the winter duvet you have on your bed and, lays the pillows down flat, gesturing to the empty space which then causes you to shoot him an apprehensive look,  

“It’s going to be so cold.” You whine and the sound if it forces Jungkook’s lips into a fond smile- completely against his will.  

“I’ll get in first-” He assures you and just before he flops onto the sheets, he yanks his hoodie and t-shirt over his head. The presence of his body alone is a defeat to all other men you’ve been with. The tan skin, the tattoos, the softness of him reminding you that he is a walking example of duality...

It’s a lot.  

But you have to stay focused and, when he settles onto the mattress and pats the empty space beside him, you waste no time in returning to your earlier mission.  

“C’mere...” He mumbles once you’re beside him, his voice deep with arousal.

The two of you resume your kiss and, this time there is a bit more urgency in the way he moves against you. He nudges your nose as he introduces his tongue into your mouth. Pulling away slightly, he continues moving his tongue along the length of yours until the two of you are properly French kissing one another.  

It’s sloppier than his usual style but, you aren’t complaining; he tastes amazing. And the way he’s licking into your mouth reminds you of what his mouth feels like when it’s elsewhere-

“I used to see people in porn kiss like this-” He whispers, “I never understood the appeal of sucking on someone’s tongue until I met you...” With his admission, he does just that, taking the tip of your muscle between his lips.

Mouth open around the entirety of his, you grip his biceps as he continues to suck on your tongue. If it were anyone else, this would feel awkward and sloppy but with Jungkook, it’s so unbelievably hot. He’s working his way over you until his tattooed arms are settled on either side of your head. Rolling his body downward, he presses his hardening dick right against the seam of your leggings. He pulls off of your tongue then and resumes kissing you normally, his lips are wetter and there’s so much spit involved in this kiss but, you couldn’t care less.  

You wanted all of him.  

Jungkook uses the strength and control he has over his body to grind against your aching core with precision, the curve of his dick sliding sinfully onto your neglected clit. Even as the pleasure begins to drown out the logical side of your brain, you desperately try to remind yourself that you are still in the middle of a bet.  

“You feel so good-” You make sure to play up the whimper that leaves your lips whilst your nails begin at his wrists and slowly drag up the bulging muscles on his arms.

His dick twitches in his sweatpants and, you take that as an opportunity to wrap your legs around his hips. The strength of his arms gives out then as he opts to rest on his elbows instead. He’s still kissing you but now the two of you are grinding against one another as if you were fucking.  

“Yeah?” He smirks against your mouth, “Good enough to cum on me?”

His attitude returns causing you to dig your nails into arms. You pull away from his mouth and shoot him a look of determination, “In your dreams...”

He snickers, sounding rather cute for a man who is literally throbbing between your legs. He licks his lips as he stares down at you for a moment, cocking his head to the side, “My dreams...” He clarifies before kissing his teeth, “I guess you’re right ah? If this were a dream of mine, you would have already came all over my tongue...”

His words make you bite your lip, your hips involuntarily curving up towards his. He snickers again, leaning away when you try to reconnect your lips, “You always tell me to go for my dreams though, don’t you baby?”

At the moment, Jungkook’s voice would be unrecognizable to anyone else but, you. It’s so deep and raspy and, only thickens as he gets more and more turned on.  

“I will cum on your tongue,” You murmur suddenly, pecking his lips, “after you cum inside of me.”

This time, it’s Jungkook who retaliates with movement, his hips rolling down at a sinful depth, causing your clit to throb with anticipation.  

He lets out a breathe from between his lips whilst he shakes his head, his dark eyes flitting down to where you’re connected before returning to your face.

“It’s so much better when I cum in you after I’ve eaten you out though-” He insists with a pout that would look innocent if this were any other scenario, “If you hold it after what I’m about to do to you, then I’ll let you have a turn with me- sound good?”

He’s so fucking cocky sometimes, it makes you want to scream. However, this wouldn’t be much of a bet if the two of you just had sex; you know that you’d have to let him touch you properly at some point, even if it would be devastating to your odds of winning.  

“You’re going to cheat- I can literally feel it in my bones...”

Jungkook chuckles and slowly begins his descent down towards the ache between your legs. When he gets to your stomach, he carefully peels up your hoodie to expose the band of your leggings. He kisses along the skin there with gentle and unhurried movements, licking once just below your belly button and smirking as he hears the giggle that tumbles from your lips. Sitting up slightly, you watch as he hooks his fingers underneath the black fabric and peels it back until he’s working it down your legs. Jungkook knows that you don’t wear underwear with these pants, especially not around the house- but it doesn’t stop him from biting his lip at the sight of your bare pussy anyway.  

Jungkook gently pries your legs apart and, you find yourself biting your lip when the cold air from the bedroom weaves its way onto your swollen, wet folds. You already want to tell him to stop- not because you don’t want it but, because you are severely doubting your ability to last.  

That doubt only increases when Jungkook settles onto his stomach and positions his mouth at the apex of your right knee, “You really do have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen...” He says this as he starts sponging his lips up your inner thigh, his eyes looking straight up at you, “Did you know that?”

With your breath increasing, you do your best to remain calm as he nears your lips but, it’s so hard when he’s intentionally saying all the things you want to hear.

But two can play at that game...

“You think so? I try to keep it all pretty for you...” The tone of your voice takes him off guard a little bit but, he isn’t complaining.  

He secretly relishes in the moments that you’re soft towards him; so much of your relationship is banter and, constantly trying to get on eachothers nerves.  

Jungkooks starts at the other knee then, kissing his way back down towards your center, “You don’t ever-” He bites down and then pulls back, “ever, have to try to be pretty jagi. You just are.”

The sensation of his teeth causes you to jump, your movements coaxing a chuckle from Jungkook’s throat.

He kisses his teeth, “Easy.” He teases with a smirk, his mouth finally hovering of your pussy.  

“Sorry-” You murmur coyly, licking your lips, “I just want your mouth so bad.”

Jungkook is about to lick up the length of you but, he stops at your confession and kisses the top of your pussy instead, “You do huh?”

It’s not really like you to plead for him as usually things are quite playful in the bedroom and, as you mentioned earlier: it’s usually him who’s begging.  

Nodding, you reach down for his fingers, lacing them with your own as you dial up the sweetness in your tone to 100%, “Please? Can I have it? I’m so wet for you Jungkook- it hurts...”

The moisture leaves his mouth when you say his name. He’s never heard you quite like this before and, it’s driving him crazy.  

He wants to give you everything.

“Whatever you want baby- I'm right here...” He mumbles against your skin, kissing the top of your cunt once more before shooting a somewhat intense glance your way, “...and I’ll make sure you give me what I want in return.”

With that, he licks up the length of you, collecting all of your arousal in middle of his tongue before drinking you in as best as he can. The feeling of his mouth finally meeting your cunt is enough to make your hips jerk from the bed. He takes that as a sign to wrap his inked arms around your body to hold you in place as he gets to work on you.  

He uses the tip of his tongue to gather as much of your wetness as possible, groaning ever so softly when the taste of you graces his tastebuds. His hands are resting on your stomach but, he uses his thumbs to pull your pussy taut so he has better access. Your clit is amply exposed now allowing him to tease his languid muscle against it, the sensations making you dizzy.  

You can feel your nipples hardening to the point of discomfort when he suckles the sensitive bud into his mouth. He only does it for a second before settling for laving his tongue up and down your clit. Breathing heavily, you tug up your hoodie to expose the rest of your upper half, your hands going straight for your neglected nipples.  

“Fuck-”  

You hear him curse and look down just in time to see that although his mouth is busy working on your pussy, his eyes are locked onto you.  

And you take advantage of that, pinching your nipples you say, “Your tongue feels so good, no-” You let your breath catch on the end of the sentence, “nobody does it like you Jungkook...”

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment and, he looks like he’s like he’s in pain. But suddenly, he moves hands from your stomach and, grips the outside of your thighs- pulling your legs apart and pushing them up. With your knees up in the air and your pussy spread completely open, Jungkook quickens the pace of his tongue on your clit. Licking over it with a consistent pace that your fiancé knows all too well, you feel the pit of your stomach begin to grow in preparation for your orgasm.  

You need to act fast...

Letting out the tiniest whimper, you reach down towards his hand again and grip onto one of his fingers, “Can I have your fingers please? I need you to fuck me so bad baby- please? I’m so close...”

Jungkook’s eyes are blackened with pure lust, his lips still kissing and licking at your clit as he moves his hand, somewhat hesitantly towards your dripping cunt. He looks so torn but, you can’t completely figure out why, but you have a feeling.  

He licks your clit once more as he lines his index finger up at your entrance. You can see how wet his mouth has become when he pulls away slightly to watch his digit disappear inside of you. Immediately, your pussy clenches around his finger, sucking it in with desperation. Jungkook groans as his eyes squeeze shut again but, he manages to return his lips to your clit, resuming his earlier motions.  

The pleasure from by his dual movements is causing your entire body to ache with need. You don’t think you can hold back your orgasm much longer, not with his finger quickening it’s pace inside you. Surrender is on the horizon; if you aren’t going to win this bet- you may as well just enjoy yourself.  

“Can you fuck me faster Jungkook?” You moan, licking your lips and rubbing your fingertips over your nipples, “You’re making me feel so good...you’re so strong.”

And faster he goes but, he only maintains the pace long enough for you to whimper one more time before he suddenly pulls away. The loss of contact shocks and disappoints and, you’re about to protest until you notice what’s going on.  

Jungkook is sat back on his knees, lips wet with your arousal, nipple hardened with his own and, grey sweatpants stained with precum. He’s taking a deep breath through his nose, his hair hanging in his face whilst he looks down towards his dick.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You murmur, sitting up.  

The promise of an orgasm is slowly fading but, the concern flooding your mind distracts you easily.  

He shakes his head, “No no- I'm good. I just uh-”  

Jungkook’s hand moves quickly, cupping over his dick and prompting another deep but shaky breath from his chest.  

And then it clicks...

“Wait-” A grin spreads across your lips, “Were you about to cum?”

“No.”  

But he won’t look up at you, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he presses his hand down even harder.  

“Jungkook-” You get up on your knees, your chest blooming with pride as you crawl across the bed towards him, “Were you about to cum?”

When you ask him again, there is a bit of laughter at the end of your sentence that causes him to shoot a glare your way.

“You were cheating...”

A sharp giggle leaves your throat, “I was cheating??? The bet was to see who could last longer and, you literally just pulled away before you were going to cum.”

Jungkook smirks, “You were fucking cheating.” He insists, “With that fucking voice of yours and your hands all over your tits; don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

He doesn’t swear often but when he does, it always gets to you. His voice his so husky now and that paired with the rest of his visuals is enough to force you into your next move.  

Suddenly, you grip his chin and angle his upwards, “Admit that you were going to cum.”

His eyes widen then, that familiar doe eyed look infecting his gaze; it’s the same look he always gives you when you take charge.  

But as much as he loves to submit to you, he almost hates losing more.

Almost.  

“No...”

Your teeth find your lip again as you smirk, your other hand sliding down his flushed chest towards his throbbing cock, “Admit that you were going to cum baby, so we can put you out of your misery...”

He shakes his head and although his hand twitches at his side, he makes no move to stop you, “I wasn’t, I was just-”

You cock your head, your hand tucking beneath the band of his sweats, “You were just what?”  

As he feels your hand encase his dick he crumbles, his whole body slumping forward, “Fuck-”

His forehead is on your shoulder now, his stomach caving in as you begin stroking his cock. You can feel how hard he is now, his length jumping in your hand, the tip of him covered in precum...

Your lips are at his ear whilst he bears his teeth, “Admit that you were going to cum sweetheart- and then I’ll let you put it inside me...”

“No-” He growls, “You were cheating, I- ugh...” He whimpers, his teeth sinking into the ball of your shoulder when you quicken your pace on him.  

You giggle, turning your head to the side so your lips are at his ear, “What a shame- you're going to waste all of this cum on your pants when you could be pumping it inside of me...”

Jungkook groans, his teeth nipping at your shoulder once more, “Let me cum inside of you please- wanna fuck you so bad...”

You’re focusing your hand on the tip of his cock, massaging it within your grip and, at this point- Jungkook is leaking so much precum, you aren’t sure if he managed to sneak in his orgasm without notice.  

“You can fuck me when you admit that I won.” You nibble on his ear, “That’s all you have to do baby- then I’ll let you fuck me.”

“But I wasn’t going to cum-” He still insists, his voice more of a whine now his hands desperately going for your hips.

Pouting your lips, you increase your pace on him for the final time, the sound of you jerking him off filling the room, “Well you definitely are now, aren’t you?”

“Fucking- fuck me...” He moans, his nails digging into your sides whilst his hips jerk up against your hand, “Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum...”

The admission is involuntarily as he paints your hand and the inside of his sweatpants with the his hot release, cumming all over himself.  

“Mm there it is- that wasn’t so hard was it?” You tease with a bit of laughter as you stroke him through his release.  

He lets out a shaky breath, moaning again as the rest of it comes out but, before you’re even able to process what’s happening, his using the grip he has on your hips to shove you back against the bed. Your back hits the sheets as your eyes widen and despite his sweatpants being stained and his dick throbbing with sensitivity, Jungkook is prying your legs apart and lining himself up at your entrance.

“Ju-” You begin but he cuts you off as he pushes inside of you. The thickness of him is so perfect and your pussy swallows him whole, unable to get enough. Through your efforts to tease him you had forgotten how close he had gotten you but, he was about to remind you exactly what he was capable of.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth-” He growls, his eyes piercing into yours, his swollen lips curved into a smirk, “Unless it’s please,” He thrusts, causing a whimper to leave your lips, “Thank you,” Thrust, “Or Jungkook...”

His pace is fast but it’s completely perfect and, it isn’t long until your orgasm comes crashing into your body, the pleasure peaking as he fucks you harder.  

“J- Jungkook- Oh god....” You moan, reaching down to rub at your clit, which only spurs you on further, “Oh my god...”

He chuckles darkly through bared teeth, his sweaty tendrils of hair jerking back and forth with his motions, “I guess I’ll settle for god too...”

Leaning down, he hovers over you as you continue to cum and despite the smirk on his face, he presses his lips to yours sweetly- kissing you through the rest of your orgasm.

He lets up the intensity inside of you, for both your sake and his, slowly allowing his hips to come to a stop. With destroyed breathing patterns, the two of you kiss each other for a while longer until he makes the painful decision to pull out of you. Still kissing at your lips, he slumps over beside you, blindly pulling at the duvet to cover your shivering bodies.

“I love you.” He chuckles boyishly, completely giddy from your encounter.

The sound of his laughter makes you smile into the kiss, “I love you too.”

He brings you closer to him so that he can hold you, his lips moving to press against different parts of your face.  

Laying on his chest, you feel content as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

After a few moment of post orgasmic bliss,  Jungkook whispers,

“ Jagi?” He mumbles to which you respond by humming, “I was definitely about to cum...”

[neon-junkie]

Multitasking

Summary: Tech's job is to repair the ship. Your job is to test his focus by riding his cock.

Pairing: Tech x Reader

Reader Description: Reader is gender-neutral. This fic does not include any descriptions of their appearance.

Word count: 4.1k

Tags: Established relationship, Oral (giving), Smut, Cuming inside, Praise kink, sub!Tech, dom!Reader, Making out, Fluff.

Notes: Happy Tech Tuesdays!! I just had to write something for this specific shot in last weeks episode teehee

Being stranded on an unknown planet is one thing, but being stranded on an unknown planet with a broken down ship? Now, that's entirely another thing - a thing that the Bad Batch has been unfortunate enough to come across. Luck, nor hope, has ever been on their side, nothing ever goes to plan, but today's plan is simple: You and Tech are to stay on the ship and work on repairs, whilst everybody else heads out and searches for food, supplies, the will to live, and so on. And that's exactly where you are right now. Tech is currently suited up, helmet on, laying down on his back, working on the underside of the ships control panel. Most of your jobs are complete, and Tech urged you to have a break like the caring sweetheart that he is. You two have kept your relationship hidden from just about everybody, including the Batch, as you fear that it might cause a rift within the group. Although, you're almost certain they know. You've seen the glances Hunter and Crosshair make to each other when you and Tech are nattering away, and you've overheard Omega ask Wrecker and Echo multiple times if they're certain that you two aren't actually an item. The Batch knows, but the Batch doesn't officially know, and you both plan on keeping it that way. Alone time is a rarity. You'll be lucky to receive a kiss whenever you bring Tech a cup of caf whilst he's alone in the cockpit, or feel his hand in yours whenever you two are buddied up during a mission. You're both touch starved an unimaginable amount, and now that you two have some privacy, you want to make the most of it. Only, Tech being Tech, he needs to work. Tech wants to spend this time with you, just as much as you want to spend it with him, but the Marauder is in dire need of repairs, and only Tech has the ability to fix this ship. So, whilst on your break, you make Tech another cup of caf and bring it over, informing him of your presence as you settle down beside him. He thanks you, but his eyes remain glued to the underside of the cockpits control panel. Dare you say it - he looks inviting. Yes, he's busy working on the ship, and that's exactly why you're fighting the urge to hop on his lap right now. There's something enticing about Tech when he's literally buried in his work. Your mind has blanked out almost every single time he's attempted to explain something to you; you never understand what he's actually on about, but you always ask him to further explain, as the glisten in his eyes always makes you smile. But this? This is something else. You've seen Tech work on the ship so many times, but never in this position. He's lying on his back, hands and eyes fixated on the wires dangling above him, but the way his legs are casually spread is just so... oh. "Tech?" you question as you place a hand on his thigh, gently kneading at the fabric wrapped around him. "I know," Tech sighs. You're about to question what he apparently knows, but his sorrowful eyes meet yours, and he continues with "I want to spend this quiet time with you too." "Awhh," you sigh, giving Tech's thigh another squeeze. "I was actually going to tell you that your caf is there, and to be careful not to knock it over," you laugh, pointing to the cup beside him. Tech rolls his eyes, but from the way they're squinting, you know he's smiling beneath his helmet. He turns his attention back to his work, and you express your agreement with his comment. "But I also wish I was spending this time with you," you reply, and purr your words at the end, hoping that Tech knows what you're implying. "Stars," Tech sighs. "It's been some time, hasn't it?" "Tell me the specifics, Tech," you smile, and Tech's eyes happily meet yours. He's often silenced by his vods for 'blabbering' on about 'unimportant' details, but to you, his ability to remember so much makes your heart flutter. "Eighteen days, to be precise," Tech states as he continues working. "It's been eighteen days since we've had some time alone together, and four days since we've kissed." "I held your hand yesterday," you say with a laugh. "Yes, and I'm almost certain that Hunter saw that," Tech sighs. He stretches his hand out and makes a small grabbing motion, and you fill his palm with one of his tools. Tech shifts up onto his elbows as he looks at the tool that you've handed him, and he can't help but laugh. "I was motioning for you to place your hand in mine," he says as he places the tool down, and shuffles his way from underneath the control panel, sitting on the floor beside you. You laugh along with him, one hand still on his thigh, the other settling in his gloved palm. Tech gives you a comforting squeeze as he flicks his helmets' visor up, revealing his wide eyes, protected by his goggles. He speaks so much through his eyes alone, and you know him to a point where you two can speak without words, and right now, Tech's asking for more. Your hand slips from Tech's grasp so you can remove his helmet. His helmet remains in your grasp as you shuffle closer, and with a smug expression, you ask "do you want to change our four day count back to zero?" Tech nods his head as he softly laughs at your flirtatious remark. He shifts his goggles from his eyes, resting them on his forehead so they won't get in the way as he leans in and kisses you. Tech's kisses are always so soft and gentle, affectionate with a sprinkle of needy. One of his hands finds the back of your neck, simply holding you there as he makes up for all the lost time. Shuffling even closer to Tech, you debate asking a specific question, fearing rejection; you know that Tech wants the same, but he's busy with work, and work is always his top priority. You understand, and you understand that you two would have a lot of explaining to do if the rest of the Batch returned to find an unfixed ship, so you always allow him to prioritize his work. But Tech's kisses grow hungry, deeper and sloppier, and the whimper that he makes when you pull away confirms that he's just as eager as you are. "Do you want to reset our eighteen day count also?" you softly question against his lips, and your tone of voice makes him shudder. "I want to," he sighs, and gives you another kiss before continuing. "But I have work to do, although I estimate that it won't take me long to complete. Then, I'm all yours." "And what if the others return before then?" you pout. "They set off two hours ago. It's highly unlikely that they'd return in such a short time," Tech states. Smart, as always, but the Batch are unpredictable, and you worry that today might be one of those days. You ponder your thoughts, lazily kissing Tech as you weigh out your options. All of your work is done, and Tech doesn't have long to go, but you need him right now. He has the ability to work in an array of situations - under pressure, stressed, overwhelmed, and so on - but what about aroused? Yes, you've teased him on the odd occasion when he's been working, but that's as far as you've gone. Is it time to take things further? "Tech?" you sigh as you pull away. "Mhm?" Tech responds, half-lidded eyes meeting yours. "You still have work to do, but I don't. So, maybe I could start us off whilst you continue working?" you suggest, batting your lashes as you speak, even though you know Tech will say yes. To your surprise, Tech thinks about it, and quickly points out a negative to your idea. "I'm sure you're aware on how distracting your presence is, and... engaging with me sexually will distract me tenfold," Tech objects, moving his hands as he talks. "I've seen you work whilst distracted before. I won't be any different," you shrug. "I understand what you're referring to, but your presence can't be compared to the heat of the battlefield. They are two completely different types of distractions." "What I'm saying is..." you begin, and straddle Tech's lap as you talk, placing his helmet down on the floor beside him. One hand gently cups Tech's chin, tilting it to the side, leaving his neck open for you to begin kissing along. "You're a good worker, Tech, and you've worked through just about everything. So, you'll be fine with my presence, I'm certain of it." You can physically feel Tech shuddering in your grasp, turning into putty whilst you kiss along his neck, speaking against his skin. He lets out a groan when you nip at a sensitive spot behind his ear, and his hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading them. "What do you think?" you question, and wait patiently for Tech's answer. Tech stays silent for a while, minus his quiet mewls and moans. He's putting a lot of thought into this, possibly too much, but he eventually comes to a decision. "Alright," he gently nods. "You're welcome to engage with me whilst I work, but if you are too distracting, and I am unable to work with you around, then I will ask you to stop." "Of course, love," you reply as your kisses move up to his cheek. "I only want what's best for you." "You're what's best for me," Tech sharply exhales, and from the way his eyes turn wide, you know he wasn't meant to let that slip. "I mean... Uh, I shall return to my work, and you're welcome to... do whatever you'd like to do." Tech fumbles for his goggles, pulling them down from his forehead. You sneak in another kiss before his helmet is placed on, and just as Tech's about to lie down, he points something out. "I'd suggest that you shut and lock the door." You scramble up from his lap, shutting the cockpits' door, just to be safe. As you're about to lock it, Tech informs you of a different code to use, and explains why when you turn around and raise your brow at him. "It's a private code that I installed recently, just to be safe." "Safe from what?" you question. "Well, after the inhibitor chip situation, I wanted to install a code that only I know, so if something were to go wrong, say the Empire takes control of us and reinstalls the chip, then sends said person down to attack us, then we'd be safe from them in the ship." You're left speechless as Tech explains his bizarre, paranoid scenario. He notices your bewildered expression, and adds "hypothetically speaking, of course." As if that somehow makes things any better. "You and your paranoia, Tech," you sigh as you punch in the new code. "If it weren't for my paranoia, then we wouldn't now have this safely locked door, preventing the others from walking in on us, if they are to return early," Tech points out, motioning with his hands as he talks, before lying down and shuffling under the cockpits control panel. You roll your eyes whilst smiling, your heart fluttering over yet another reason why you've fallen for Tech. He goes back to work, leaving you to your mischief. Just like before, Tech has his legs partially spread, feet firmly on the floor with his knees slightly raised. As you settle beside him, your hand comes to rest on his thigh, fingers fiddling with the straps of his utility belt. You unhook the straps from his thighs, moving them up to his waist, giving you access to his codpiece. You know far too well how to remove his armour, and you find the hook that unlatches his codpiece, removing it entirely in one swift motion. Tech's already semi-hard, his cock straining against the tight fabric of his blacks. You palm over his erection, eyes peeking up to watch his reaction, and there is none, minus a soft sight. It's clear that he's attempting to focus on his work, and you're torn between wanting to be a massive distraction, and wanting to let him get on with his work. Sadly, repairing the ship is important, but you're certain that you can test his focus another time. For now, you're happy with slowly and lazily getting both of you off, waiting for Tech to finish so both of you can quicken the pace. Shuffling down onto your front, you free his cock from beneath his blacks, pumping it loosely whilst you find a comfortable position. Tech lets out another sigh when you swipe your tongue over the tip of his cock, swirling it around a few times, and then sinking down onto his length. You know by now exactly what makes Tech stir, and like the minx that you are, you go for those specific areas. Tech lets out a groan as you glide your tongue down the underside of his shaft, your hand lightly squeezing his tip. You spend a while between his thighs, earning weak moans, muffled through his helmet. One of his legs begins to lightly bounce, something his body subconsciously does when he's in deep though, and as of recent, something he also does when he's attempting to focus whilst distracted. With one hand around Tech's cock, you manage to slip your pants off, kicking off your boots in the process. You find the perfect balance between satisfying your partner, and preparing yourself, and although the position is slightly uncomfortable, the sound that Tech makes when he notices you prepping yourself makes it worth your while. "Copaani gaan?" you overhear Tech speak in his mother tongue. His eyes lock onto yours as he raises his head slightly, propping himself up on elbows, and Tech watches as you tilt your head in confusion. "Need a hand?" he repeats, and you mumble an 'oh' at his translation. "Shouldn't you be working on the ship?" you question. As Tech starts speaking, you slip his cock back into your mouth, completely malfunctioning his brain. "It's- I... the work- uh..." Tech stutters, and groans as he blurts out "mesh'la." A gloved hand rests on the back of your head as Tech lies back down, eyes scrunching shut, moaning softly for you. "So beautiful," he mumbles, and lets out a choked sob when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. "What were you saying about the ship?" you innocently ask as you pull off his cock. "It's almost fixed," Tech groans, followed by a heavy sigh. "Finish your work, Tech," you order, and your tone of voice makes Tech shudder. "Elek, cyar'ika," Tech whimpers. "Anything for you." The hand on the back of your head is removed, and Tech turns as much focus as he can to his work. You decide that you're prepped enough, as is Tech, and begin shuffling into position, straddling Tech's lap. His eyes flick away for a moment, watching through his slowly steaming-up goggles as you sink down onto his length, letting out a soft sigh once you're fully seated. Despite not being able to see Tech's face, you know he's struggling to hold himself together, especially from the noise he makes when you begin slowly rising and falling on his cock, taking your time with every thrust. "Your work, Tech," you comment as you lock eyes. "Y-yes, right..." Tech's words trail off as he attempts to finish up, moving wires and tightening bolts, putting together the final parts of the ships control panel. You keep your pace slow and steady, not wanting to move Tech's body too much as he works, plus the sensation of slowly fucking yourself on your partners cock is oh-so-satisfying. And from the sounds that Tech is attempting not to make, you know that he's feeling the same way. You two spend some time like that, Tech finalizing the ship as you slowly get each other off, tensing your muscles every so often to tighten your grip on Tech's cock. Wanting to see how Tech will react, you catch him by surprise by slamming down on his cock; Tech lets out a choked moan, the air from his lungs being pushed out, and he almost drops the bolt tightener that he's holding. He perks his head up, groans at the sight of you, and then lets it fall back again. His hands pause mid-air, uncertain if he should attempt to work, or enjoy a brief break. "Tech?" you purr, and his eyes lock onto yours through the tint of his goggles. "Carry on working, love, you're almost finished." "Cyar'ika, you're making this unbelievably difficult," Tech whimpers. Tech isn't always one for praise, unless you're reminding him of how intelligent he is, but maybe he'll accept a few compliments whilst he's literally beneath you? "You're such a good worker, Tech, you can continue with a minor distraction," you praise. Tech's eyes momentarily flick away, as if to question if he really can work in these conditions. You know he's accepted your compliment the second his hands move up, returning to the control panel. "See?" you smile. "Pretend I'm not here. Pretend I'm not riding your cock right now," you tease, and your smile grows when Tech lets out a deep sigh. "I'll get you for this," he threatens in his own, soft, Tech-like way. "I can't wait," you purr, and pick up the pace, positioning your hands on his armoured chest to give your body extra support. Your eyes fall shut just as Tech returns to his work, putting your focus into riding him. Your pace isn't perfect, but it's enough to get you off, and from the sounds you're hearing from your partner, it's enough to get him off too. You're so engulfed in pleasure that you almost don't hear Tech suddenly states "I'm done." For some reason, you instantly assume he's done with you, motioning for you to stop. "Huh?!" you yelp as your eyes snap open. "I'm done with my work," Tech states, unaware of your confusion, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief. He lightly taps your thigh, signalling for you to raise your hips, and with the tip of his cock barely inside you, both of you shuffle so that Tech is no longer pinned beneath the control panel. You slam back down onto his cock just as he props himself up on his elbows, almost collapsing down again from the sensation. Tech curses under his breath, and with shaky arms, he manages to reach up and remove his helmet, placing it down beside him. His cheeks are redder than ever, almost as bright as when you two shared your first kiss, and from the light layer of sweat over his face, you assume that he'll be needing a shower later, and no doubt, you'll join him. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" you cheekily smile, and Tech has the audacity to roll his eyes at you. "You're unbelievable," Tech groans as he shifts his legs, placing his feet firmly on the floor, hips slightly raised - the perfect position to begin thrusting up into you. Tech meets your hips halfway, finding the perfect rhythm within no time. He's no longer holding back, moaning and groaning freely, and treating you to the occasional whimper. Tech's hands are snugly sitting around your hips, and his eyes are struggling to stay open, eventually scrunching shut, his mouth remaining parted as he puts all of his focus into fucking you. Your hands grip onto his chest once more, thick plastoid armour pressed against your palms, steadying your weight whilst both of you chase your orgasms. You know Tech is close when he begins stuttering, his mind becoming hazy, but Tech manages to whimper "I'm close." "Inside," you quietly state, and all Tech manages to do is nod. You beat him to it, tightening around his length as your orgasm hits. The sensation of you squeezing his cock has Tech sputtering, mewling beneath you whilst he pulls you down onto his hips and holds you there, his cock twitching heavily as he fills you up. You rock your hips back and forth gently, just enough to milk him, and Tech's grip on your hips tightens as he begins panting; his eyes slowly open, pupils blown, gawking at the sight of you. "T-too much," Tech eventually stutters, so you ease up, coming to a halt. Both of you spend a moment to gather yourselves and catch your breaths. Tech's hands move from your hips so he can prop his goggles up on his forehead, wiping his face with his palms, attempting to snap himself out of his post-orgasm haze. "Good?" you simply question, smiling when Tech nods in agreement. "Yes," he sighs, "so good. I think you'll agree that we both needed that," Tech comments as he pulls his goggles back on, and props himself up on his elbows, looking up at you, still sat on his lap with his cock slowly softening inside you. Tech takes a hold of your hips again, keeping you firmly on his lap as he sits upright. His soft eyes remain glued to yours, and a sweet smile appears on his lips when you playfully rub your nose against his. Tech wraps his hands around your waist, holding you in his lap, enjoying the sensation of your bodies being pressed together. Neither of you speak, but you don't need words to express the connection that you're feeling right now. You cup his jawline, holding his head steady whilst you enjoy some slow, sensual kisses. The taste of sweat is light on Tech's lips, but it's not enough for you to pull you away from him; if anything, you're enticed by how he tastes, parting your lips slightly so your tongue can glide across his. An unknowing amount of time passes as you two remain tied together, catching up on those lost moments; the nights where you can't be in each other's arms, the kisses you've missed due to lack of privacy, the gentle touches that are always kept private. As you move apart, you motion for Tech to tilt his head to the side, revealing your favourite place to kiss. Your hands slide over his shoulders, fiddling with the ends of his short hair, and you plant kiss after kiss on his faint scar, hidden beneath his short, buzzed hair. Tech smiles as you kiss over that area, and once you're done, he presses his forehead against yours. Finally, one of you speaks up. "Would you like to join me in the refresher?" Tech offers. "Of course," you smile, and place a kiss on his nose before shuffling off his lap. Once both of you are dressed, and Tech has tidied his equipment away, you go to make your way through the ship. As you open the locked cockpit door, you're both met with an extremely grumpy looking Hunter. He's sat with his arms crossed, tired eyes, and the only thing he asks is "are you two finally done?" "T-the ship is repaired, if that is what you're asking," Tech replies, struggling to maintain eye contact. "C'mon, you know I'm not on about that," he sighs. "You're lucky that the others wanted to stay outside and enjoy the sun!" Both of you stand there awkwardly, gawking around the ship, looking at everything but Hunter. He lets out a long, defeated sigh before saying "both of you, go and clean up, please. And leave the cockpit door open, it stinks in there." With that, Hunter rises from his chair, and makes his way off the Marauder, leaving the ships' door open to let fresh air flow through the ship. At the same time, Tech and you lock eyes, sharing an awkward expression. To your surprise, Tech states "that went rather well." "You're joking, right?" "It's been a long time coming," he shrugs. "Anyway, are you still joining me in the refresher?" You let out a laugh, but shake your head in agreement. "Lead the way!"

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙