#i checked four times bc i felt like the face looked off but no the proportions to nats actual face were right so

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 

“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 

You kiss his cheek. 

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 

His eyebrows raise. 

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face. 

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again. 

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything? 

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 

“Do you want to?”

Woah. 

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how? 

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches. 

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 

The size sinks in a quick second later. 

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed. 

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his. 

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom. 

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck. 

He really wants to tell you right now. 

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 

“Stand up.”

You frown. 

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no. 

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply. 

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

-

part 3.5

[ashwhowrites]

Could you write something about older!neighbor!eddie and reader being fwb and she get pregnant and doesn’t want to tell Eddie bc he always said he didn’t want kids so she starts avoiding him and looking for a new place to live. Eddie ends up finding out about the baby bc he comes over to readers place because she’s been kinda sick lately and wants to check up on her and ends up seeing the ultrasound pictures. He tells reader that even though he never wanted kids he’s going to be there for her and their child (up to you if they end up together or not)?? I love your fics so much 🧡🧡🧡

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting! <3

Baby on board

Y/N has been sleeping with her neighbor for the last four months. Yeah, as in fucking each other until they were panting messes. She tried just to be his neighbor, he was older and rough around the edges. She was young and lived alone. It was hard to act like Eddie was not dropping to her knees attractive. She had to act like she didn't burn at the thought of him. But when he showed interest? Of course, she went for it.

But fuck

What a bad fucking idea

~~~

"Congratulations, you are pregnant. The tests at home were correct." The doctor said, a bright fake white tooth smile. Y/N felt sick to her stomach, reaching for the trash as she emptied her insides.

Y/N left the hospital, her head spinning. She knew the baby was Eddie's. She wasn't sleeping with anyone else, and Eddie loved cumming inside of her. It was dumb on her part, but she can blame it on being young. Him? He has no excuse.

But she knew Eddie didn't want kids. He's in his forties, divorced, and spends his time drinking beer. He was at the stage in his life where kids left his head. Oh, and the fact he got into a divorce over kids in the first place.

She was an idiot.

~~~

Over the few weeks, Y/N tried her best to stay hidden from Eddie. She stopped answering his calls, refused to leave the house unless it was an emergency, and avoided him and his house at all times.

She had a few more appointments, now leaving the doctor with ultrasound pictures. She couldn't help but grow excited about being a mom. Sure, she'd be on her own, alone, and terrified. But she tried to not focus on that, and focus on the fact she was going to have a baby.

She thought about telling Eddie, but running away was easier. She couldn't face his disappointment or anger. It was easier to leave him before he could. She sat online and searched for a new place to live. With a kid on the way, she thought an apartment would be best for her to afford.

She didn't hide from Eddie as well as she thought. He paid too close attention for her to hide everything from him. He could see her exhausted body getting out of the car, carrying bags of medicine, ice cream, and who knows what else.

He was worried about her. She stopped talking to him out of the blue, and she didn't look well. She'd look in the direction of his house in fear, racing to her front door. His calls went unanswered, his knocks never allowed the door to open, and he couldn't get out of his house fast enough to catch her.

But today he was going to talk to her.

He walked out of his house, cursing at the cold and the snow beneath his shoes. He cuddled into his sweatshirt a little more as he walked a few feet over. He blew hot air on his hands then knocked.....and knocked.

"I KNOW YOU'RE HOME!" he yelled, but no answer.

"I'M NOT LEAVING UNTIL WE TALK SO I'LL FREEZE OUT HERE ALL NIGHT. IF YOU CARE ABOUT ME, I THINK YOU WOULDN'T WANT THAT!" he was too old for this shit. He felt like a child locked him out of his house and was laughing at him on the other side.

But when she opened the door, she wasn't laughing. She had a blanket over her body, her eyes bloodshot, and her skin pale.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" He rushed out, he pushed himself inside before she could protest. His shoes kicked off as he began to rub her arms.

"Just sick." She shrugged, it wasn't a whole lie. She technically was throwing up.

"Oh, baby." He said, wrapping his arms around her. She cursed at herself for melting in his arms. For sneaking an inhale of his scent and shuddering against his hard body. His facial hair scratched across her forehead as he planted a kiss.

"Let's get you back in bed and I'll make you some soup." He said. She almost wanted to laugh at the irony. Here he was, acting like a perfect caring partner. But he didn't want that with her.

She didn't say a word, trying her best to push her feelings aside. She was moving away from him.

After Eddie tucked her in, he walked down to her kitchen. He tried to remember the few times he was over and watched her cook. As the soup heated on the stove, he looked around. His eyes caught black and white photos. Curiosity took over as he grabbed the photos.

His stomach twisted in uncomfortable ways, all tied in knots as he took in the ultrasound. She was pregnant.

He knew it wasn't right to be mad at her, but he was clenching every part of his body. He knew getting involved with a younger girl was a dumb idea, and it was even dumber to fall for her.

He grabbed the pictures, turned off the stove, and marched upstairs. He knew he should be calm down and not make her feel worse, but he couldn't.

"Where's the soup?" She asked, her teasing smile fell when she saw him holding the pictures.

"What the fuck is this?" He snapped, she felt her body tense at the anger in his voice. She knew he wouldn't be happy about this, but she didn't think he'd look so pissed.

"Ultrasound pictures." She said quietly, she feared for what would come next.

"That's why you've been avoiding me? Because you've been pregnant with some other bastard's baby?" He growled, angrily throwing the pictures at the bottom of her bed. He wasn't sure what the feeling was in his stomach, but the thought of some other boy being with her, inside of her, and connecting himself to her made him sick.

But that's not what she expected.

"What!" She was shocked. She didn't think for a second Eddie would think she was off sleeping around. She didn't think he was, but now she felt sick thinking about that too.

"You could have been honest and told me to fuck off. Instead, you have me chasing you, and now I look like an idiot." He argued.

"I've been avoiding you because the baby is yours." She said, simple and straight to it. She watched as his angry act dropped. His eyes are wide and his jaw is open.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Eddie sighed, he felt guilty for getting so mad at her.

"I didn't say anything because I know you never wanted kids and I couldn't handle you hating me." Her sad voice broke his heart.

"Oh baby," he sighed, he walked over to the side of the bed. He dropped to his knees and held her hand.

"I need to be honest with you." He said, she swallowed nervously.

"My ex and I weren't exactly in love. We were two people living together. I didn't want kids and we got divorced. I figured I wouldn't want kids with anyone, but you changed that." He explained, Y/N was confused, and he could see that.

"I've been too nervous to ask you out because I figured you wouldn't want a future with someone who's kinda ahead of you. You're so young, and I figured you wouldn't want to settle down with a guy who couldn't give you a family. But I did." She felt her heart race as his voice got stuck in his throat. His brown eyes filled with water.

She squeezed his hand and he kissed her skin.

"I fell in love with you. And I've spent so many nights dreaming of having little versions of us running around. I adore you and I want even more of you. To have one more of you or as many as three. Be connected to you for the rest of my life." His words caused her eyes to water as well. She feared he wouldn't want the baby or her. But hearing he dreamed of both filled her with so much hope.

"I love you too." She smiled, sniffling as he smiled back.

"Let's have a baby!" He cheered, his tears falling as he cupped her cheeks.

"A baby!" She repeated, laughing as Eddie smothered her face in kisses.

Eddie pressed his lips against hers, his hands covering her cheeks. She kissed back, her hands on her lap as she melted into him.

"Gonna be the best dad ever, promise." He whispered against her lips.

"I know you will be, Munson."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[opal-owl-flight]

Quick lore question, did marie considering the idea of replacing 4 play into the insecurities she has later?

Absolutely.

I wanna preface this by saying one thing: Young 4 was a COMPLETELY different person before she got recruited by Marie. And Marie...responds to her accordingly.

Long read abt Hero2 events below!! Its. A lil messy sorry qisjke these are my notes

Young 4? A bitch.

Everything she ever wanted was given to her. Moved out of the highlands with an ego the size of a planet (and also bc she felt suffocated there), thinking she can make it in the big city.

...she struggled to make it alone. She had moved out bc her family was suffocating her with love, but now theyre not here, so now she feels homesick and underappreciated.

All that is expressed by her harsh, bitchy attitude. Shes gonna be mean bc no one has seen her for who she is. She'll show them!!

She finds her way around like this, and discovers that shes just as good at turf war here and at home. In fact, shes *so* good that she got the status of a rising star!

It aaalll just gets into her head. Shes "proven everyone wrong" now. Shes got the superiority complex and can back it up.

Marie...

...saw this. She was looking for a new agent to help find the missing zapfish. The second 4 heard this from her, she flexed her arms and...

"Look no further, your hero is RIGHT HERE!"

Marie at first adored the spunkiness of this new agent. Uuuntil 4 started thinking that shes better than her.

"Watch out, Agent Four!"

"You watch YOURSELF, grandma! Think Im a damn idiot to not see that coming? WAHA!"

Marie rolled up her sleeves after several stages full of her ignoring orders or sassing her out of nowhere.

Is that how shes gonna be? Fine.

When 4 finally trips and falls, hard, on a particularly difficult level, Marie pulls her to the side to fix her up and give her a lecture that tore her fucking ego to shreds.

She says something so fucking harsh like "That attitude will make SURE that you die sad and alone. I wonder how anyone puts up with you."

4s too hurt by her own failure to say anything back.

The reality of war finally gives her a reality check. Each victory is earned. its her life on the line. And the world.

She regains her spunk after saving the world.

------

Silly 4. She gets the job done but it takes a LOT of pushing in the mid-stages. Its like she got legitimately bored after the initial super easy ones, and thought the entire campaign a joke.

She went back to her turfing life topside between stages. And she takes a WHILE to come back to her missions -- usually late!! And then before she even goes in she just HAS to yak Marie's face off with what she was doing up there.

"Youre late."

"You shouldve SEEN ME, Marie!! I was carrying that Rainmaker round! I was-"

"Pray tell, Agent Four. How will you keep participating in turf with the Zapfish gone?"

"Whaat? Cmon. Nothing seems to be changing! Theres still power through the city!"

"The backup supply wont last forever, you know."

"Yeah yeah. Okay. Im here now. Wheres the next kettle?"

This attitude is from her high school days, clearly. She breezes by everything so fast that she can afford to do things last minute. It affects even this.

That, alongside her talking smack back to Marie, is what makes her snap at 4. Its what makes 4 stick to the mission fully starting late area 4 and area 5. (This is also around the time 4s life was threatened. God help me in those stupid platforming stages)

Post Hero2, 4 more or less does what 3 does. Shes the "replacement" til 3 comes back. (That cant be good for her confidence.)

At the same time, she has to deal with Callie and Marie talking out what the fuck Callie did with Octaria. "THEY SQUIDNAPPED GRAMPS!!!" and all. Why help them??? They get into squabbles where 4 was the unfortunate witness to. And peacemaker. It does NOT help that Callie for a while kept putting the glasses back on!!!

4 wishes so bad she had help of any sort. She feels 3 might be able to do something but what does she know?? Shes never met em!! She just imagines what the missing agent would do in that situation.

Callie...was also the person she got close to. Shes fun (unlike the stuck up Marie), shes empathic, she opened 4s eyes to the Octarian plight. It made her acceptance of 8 later much smoother.

Im not saying shes not close to Marie either, I bet they healed their relationship around this year too. Marie's sorry she tore 4s ego the way she did (even if deserved...). Marie's much more supportive of what 4s doing topside. Shes expressing her pride in the agent she found much more openly. (She brags abt her to Callie at times.)

The three of them heal together in that time. 4 sees them as older sisters Im p sure. Theyre both giving her tips for turfing and -- Marie even helps her with homework, HAH

And...while I say that 4 and Marie are in better terms, there are still days where Marie blows up on her. Lesser extent than before, but shes *worried* for her agent! (Its a similar plight 3 has.) In those times, its Callie who has her back. ("Hey! Its not like shes not trying!!" Callie understands how it is, and she also knows Marie best -- shes the one who makes 4 understand where Marie is coming from.)

[tending-the-hearth]

so bc they're on my brain and the amount of people acting like clarisse should be hated on the same level as luke is making me go feral so hcs about one of my favorite girls and her annoying brother percy <3

she and percy's names in each other's phones are "rissy" and "prissy" and they absolutely refuse to tell that to anyone

the only time people find out about the nicknames is post-blood of olympus when the head counselors meet with the camp jupiter senate and they go off in private and percy just grins at clarisse and says "hey rissy" and it's one of the only times anyone ever sees her truly cry and they have a teary reunion where they're definitely hugging each other way too tight

clarisse definitely gets closer with sally and paul when percy disappears. she visits more, and even spends the weekends there if she's having a bad time. she also bonds more with annabeth during that time too

post-chariot quest percy and clarisse check in on each other a little more. for them, it's in the form of sparring, so people think they're back to their rivalry, but they're really just having the time of their lives, laughing and grinning at each other

they have a heart-to-heart in the time between battle of the labyrinth and last olympian, where clarisse genuinely apologizes to percy, and they have a talk about everything percy's ever overheard, everything that happened with chris, with ares, with gabe, end it's very very healing for both of them

honestly that's the point where they start to see each other as siblings. percy brings clarisse back to the apartment, and sally and paul immediately just fall in love with her and are ready to adopt her then and there

clarisse and grover are the next ones that sally and paul reveal the pregnancy to, and clarisse tries so hard not to freak out until sally talks about how happy she is that estelle will have two wonderful big sisters to look up to.

GOD when percy first disappears, and clarisse wakes up to the sound of annabeth screaming for her boyfriend. it's the first time since silena's death that she's felt utter and horrifying fear in her heart

clarisse is one of the main campers to go out looking for percy, to the point where she's barely at camp

they send each other the stupidest photos, like i mean the absolute ugliest photos in the entire world, and each of them has a separate folder in their camera roll for it

there's a point during heroes of olympus where clarisse starts calling sally and paul mom and dad, and when percy comes back and it happens in front of him he just gets the biggest, stupidest smile on his face before clarisse punches his arm and shoves him off his chair

clarisse and percy have weekly dinners at sally and paul's <3333 where it's just the four of them + estelle once she's born

percy, texting clarisse after living in nr for a while: "hey i'm visiting mom for the weekend do you want to get lunch"

clarisse: "i hope your bus crashes and you die in a fireball"

also clarisse: "noon @ mcdonalds tomorrow if you're late i'll have a panic attack"

annabeth and chris see their text conversations and half of it is the two of them threatening to kill the other and use every piece of blackmail they have on each other and the other half is the deepest, most emotional conversations they've ever seen

literally no one understands their friendship, the rest of the seven asks annabeth about it one evening after seeing clarisse clothesline percy and steal his food before he sits down beside her and they engage in a quiet, obviously personal coversation that ends in a tight hug and annabeth just shrugs

[eeveleon]

wrong place, worse time

combining two weeks prompts bc i said so!! ShikatemaMonth24 - "Smart but Stupid" + Accidental PDA

Read here on AO3

Temari was almost too comfortable to move. 

They were lying on top of the covers, her back to his chest, Shikamaru’s arms around her waist.

She hadn’t let him use the blanket because then he would fall asleep immediately, and they had to get up to go soon. Not that it had helped much - from the sound of his breathing, she was pretty sure he was fast asleep.

Temari elbowed his stomach. “You have five minutes to get up.” 

“That’s five minutes of more sleep I could have gotten before you so kindly decided to wake me.”

“Four minutes.” She elbowed him again, harder.

He grumbled, tightening his grip around her and pushing his face deeper into her hair. 

He had been that way since they left the Hokage Tower, practically booking it to his apartment to collapse in his extra-plush bed. And for some reason, Temari had felt inclined to indulge him. 

So she spent the laziest evening in her life with her mostly-secret boyfriend. Stretched out next to Shikamaru, Temari could practically feel the tension and soreness melt away from her shoulders and neck. Who knew that even after years of carrying a giant fan on her back, an office desk could still cause a whole different kind of ache. 

Though Temari wasn't exactly upset about the two extra minutes of rest. She would need her energy for a dinner with the entire Konoha Rookie class. Ino and Chouji had stopped them during their lunch break to tell them of the plans to meet at a new restaurant that night. At first, she tried to refuse the invitation but the other two had insisted, saying Shikamaru would be more likely to attend if she did two, all the while giving their teammate sly looks that he had ignored.

Behind her, Shikamaru finally got up with a loud groan. Unlike her, he had immediately stripped himself of his jounin fatigues and now had to shake them out from their pile on the floor.

Temari’s favorite thing about spending naps or nights with Shikamaru was watching him get ready after - navy blue was a good color on him. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he deftly tied up his hair in its usual ponytail. Temari raised an eyebrow, though, when he zipped on his olive green vest next. She slid off the bed. “If it’s just dinner, why are you getting dressed in your uniform?” She asked, picking a stray thread off his shoulder. 

Shikamaru finished adjusting his flak vest. “It’s a drag, but I can get called away anytime. It’s happened before.”

Temari leaned against his dresser, silently watching him check the pockets of his vest and pouch. All that was missing were the shinobi sandals left at the apartment door to make him look like the commander he was.

She felt a surge of pride as he made sure his uniform was neat and proper. Shikamaru had definitely come a long way from the lazy fourteen-year-old who never washed his chuunin vest. He had a much more important role in the village now, and the care he was putting into his appearance, even for the off chance that he was summoned, showed that he knew it and was taking responsibility for it. 

It was so hot, she was having trouble keeping her hands to herself. 

Temari wiped her hands on her thighs. “Do they know I’m coming?” She asked, trying to distract herself.

“I let Choji and Naruto know, so I’m sure they told the others.” 

She nodded, even though he still wasn’t looking at her. “Do they know... anything else?”

His eyes, dark and unfathomable, pierced through hers in the mirror. “You know they don’t. No one does.”

Temari only nodded, and again busied her hands by reapplying her lipstick and tightening her pigtails. If they didn’t leave now, they were definitely going to be late. 

Shikamaru seemed to read her mind, because he pulled her away from the dresser, looking her up and down. 

“You look good.” He said, his hand trailing up her arm. 

Temari huffed, looking away. “So do you.”

He leaned in, thoughts on something other than dinner, and his breath skimmed over her cheeks before she stopped him, her hand over his mouth.

“But unfortunately for you, my lipstick stains and we’re supposed to see your friends in ten minutes.”

He sighed, an exaggeratedly forlorn look crossing his face. “Troublesome….”

Temari grinned. “Then again, maybe they’ll all be too busy getting you to empty your wallet to notice anything.” 

“Heh! They can try all they want - I’m only paying for two meals tonight.”

---

They got to the restaurant the same time as half of the other invitees, and in the flurry of greetings, no one noticed that they arrived together, standing a little closer than professional, or that one of Shikamaru’s ears was pinched to a bright red.

Chouji was friends with the owner - a distant relative - and the restaurant had arranged a long table near the far side for their large group. They were all quickly seated, and the Akimichi waiter took down their flurry of food and drinks orders with great experience.

She sat at the end of the table, next to Shikamaru. His foot brushed against hers - more than once - which she didn’t exactly mind, but hoped no one else saw. 

Though, the good thing about these Konoha Rookie get-togethers was that everyone made an effort to attend, and a quick glance around the table confirmed that - even Sakura was there, and she was as much of a workaholic as her boyfriend. With a dozen different life updates being thrown around, her and Shikamaru’s secret relationship was completely off the radar. 

All she needed to do was relax, eat, and listen, just throwing in comments here and there.

And that’s how the night went, until about halfway through.

“Nara-san!”

Temari looked up from her dinner to see a uniformed Chuunin she had seen around the Hokage’s office rush into the restaurant. He stopped next to her boyfriend and handed him a folded piece of paper. 

“Thank you.” Shikamaru said as he quickly read it. 

He took out a pencil and added his own part to the message, then turned to give it back to the Chuunin. “Take this to the guards at the northern gate. Let them know I’ll be sending more orders soon.”

Temari really liked watching him get into his Commander-mode. His voice would lose its lethargic drawl and his eyes became sharper and more focused. It was so attractive every time - she didn’t think she would ever get tired of it. 

“Yes, sir!” 

The Chuunin shot out the door, back to his post. Shikamaru stubbed out what was left of his cigarette and took a last swig of his drink. “Sorry, guys. Gotta go.” He apologized with a shrug of his shoulders.

He was met with half-hearted groans and complaints from his friends. They were used to his frequent summonings to the tower interrupting their hang-outs. 

Temari watched as he pushed his chair out and took out more than enough cash to cover his and another’s meal. She rolled her eyes. Obviously, he hadn’t understood anything from earlier.

“Should I come as well?” Sai asked, already half-getting out of his seat. 

“Nah. It’s nothing too serious.” He said, waving him back down. “I’ll send for you if it gets out of hand.” 

Shikamaru stood up and leaned over, a hand on the back of her chair. “I’ll see you later.” He murmured, and Temari instinctively turned her head to meet him in a quick, soft kiss. 

“Bye.” She gave him a small smile as he squeezed her shoulder lightly. 

She watched him leave with one last wave over his shoulder before going back to her food. He already paid, so at least one of them should finish eating. 

Temari then became aware of the overwhelming silence at the table. She looked up to see all of Konoha’s brightest generation staring at her. Feeling suddenly self-conscious - and missing the usual presence at her side - she asked carefully. “...What?”

No one said anything at first, until Kiba let out a slow whistle, and Temari noticed smiling and snickering start around the table. “What?” She asked again, more annoyed. 

Tenten, who sat directly across from her, leaned forward. “You just kissed Shikamaru.” She stated pragmatically. 

Temari scowled at her, about to reject her ridiculous claim, until the realization of what they just did hit. Her grip on her chopsticks loosened, and she felt her face heat up. 

She and Shikamaru had kissed each other - on the lips - in front of everyone.

Ino burst out into laughter. “Of all the stupid ways to slip up! And you two are supposed to be the smart ones here.”

So much for being lowkey. 

Temari opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to find the right words to say. Obviously, she couldn’t just deny the physical evidence of their relationship. What was worse, they were probably going to ask questions about her and Shikamaru now. 

“So you two are finally together!” Naruto exclaimed. “Since when?”

This was exactly what Temari didn’t want. She and Shikamaru were private people. The past few months of their relationship had been bliss - no publicity, no questions, no expectations, no external involvement whatsoever. And she honestly didn’t know how to handle them. These were Shikamaru’s friends - she was just starting to get to know all of them!

Ino must have caught on to her train of thought because the younger woman grinned teasingly. “Please, Temari, don’t even try denying it. Unless, you want to tell us that was just a normal kiss between friends? Or, sorry, coworkers?”

Her cheeks flared again, at having their usual lie thrown back in her face. “It’s... not a big deal.” She tried again to downplay the situation. 

“It is so a big deal!” Sakura argued. “Shikamaru’s been our friend since we were little kids! Of course we’d want to know if he’s with someone - especially if it’s another friend of ours.”

That made Temari feel a little guilty. It had been her idea to keep their relationship completely under wraps for now. Shikamaru had agreed, but although he liked his privacy, he wasn’t too fond of the half-lies they were giving their close friends and family. And Temari had an inkling that he wanted to do things publicly with her - like hold her hand and kiss goodbye and sit closer together at lunch. He’d never say it, but she had a good feeling about it. 

She pushed her hair out of her face, glowering at the others. “I need way more alcohol before I talk about this.”

---

The questions blurred together as the night went on. Kiba and Shino had taken her personal request as an initiative to order round after round of drinks for the table, and Temari quickly stopped keeping track of what was being asked by who. 

She had fended off the nosiest of the questions, though the simpler ones - when did they get together, who made the first move, is he a good kisser - were answered.

Ino, ever the instigator, had a look in her eyes that was bad news for more-than-a-little drunk Temari. Sober Temari could handle her easily, but with her boyfriend already on her mind, she might just answer honestly. 

“So what about him made you say yes, I need to see him nake-’”

“Excuse me!” A very irritated waiter interrupted with a glower. “Can you please calm your friends down?”

Because without any sober supervision, the drinking game at the other end of their table had gotten a little out of control. 

“Wait, Lee-!”

And with little ceremony, they were immediately herded out of the restaurant. 

Of course, the dozen shinobi (including the ninken) had to push and shove their way through the singular doorway, ending up with half of them face-down in the dirt.

Temari stumbled forward, but instead of hitting the ground, she fell into a pair of very familiar arms.

“Oi, I was gone for maybe an hour... What trouble did you all get into?”

Her eyes fluttered as she focused on her savior, only to see her very own boyfriend smiling sheepishly. 

Temari pushed him away to arms length. ”Shikamaru! Do you know what you did today?” She yelled.

”I know, I’m sorry.” He was grinning too much for it to be an actual apology. “I realized as soon as I left the restaurant - it was just on instinct, I promise.”

”Idiot, idiot, idiot!” She punched his chest with each word.

Temari dropped her head forward to rest on his shoulder as his arms came up to encircle her waist. She didn’t know who was still around to see - or sober enough to remember - but she was beginning to care less and less about that. Her boyfriend, with his tall, slim figure and long, warm fingers, was taking all her attention at the moment. 

His voice jolted her out of her thoughts on him. “I really want to kiss you again.” 

“Your friends are still watching.” Temari pouted, though she leaned up to meet him.

Shikamaru snorted, his grip tightening around her. “Didn’t care the first time anyway.” He murmured just as their lips met.

And if there was any commotion from their background spectators, neither noticed.

[harrysfolklore]

need me a blurb of harry thriving in latin america bc we all know he absolutely peaks over there

here it is !! a blurb about colombia, peru, chile and argentina 💖 brasil will get its insta blurb once the shows are done ! i hope you like this

if you want exclusive blurbs, tropes and polls SUBSCRIBE TO MY PATREON

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

Colombia

"I'm so excited. I've never played here on my own before." Harry said as he looked over the window of his private jet, you were on your flight to Colombia after spending an incredible week in Mexico where Harry had four amazing shows filled with love, music and moments he would never forget, you were beyond happy that Harry was making amazing memories in Latin America.

"It's going to be an amazing show, baby," you looked up from your phone and saw his excited little smile, you were previously texting some of your friends from Colombia about stuff to do and places to visit over there, you knew Harry was dying to explore and walk around before the show. "I have a list of places we should visit, and I made a reservation for dinner tonight, my friends say this restaurant is the best in the city."

"That sounds lovely, darling." He let out a yawn as he got comfortable, drifting off to sleep for the rest of the flight.

After an easy landing and check in at your hotel, you went strolling around, Harry clad in his signature blue adidas jacket and you were wearing matching comfortable clothes, after some nice dinner that was even accompanied by live salsa music that Harry absolutely loved and made sure to get it added to the Late Night Talking intro and a couple of shots of Aguardiente, you guys walked around the streets of Bogota, and even tho Harry's mask was covering his lips, his eyes gave away the happiness he was feeling.

He felt at home.

"You know, I feel like you've been glowing lately," you said after a few moments of comfortable silence, walking hand in hand "You've been glowing ever since the Guadalajara show" you added, turning your head to look at him.

"I thought that only happened during pregnancy, right?" Harry asked, looking down at you.

"You glow when you're happy, baby." you smiled up at him, melting at the sight of his eyes getting even softer, he let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders and kiss the crown of your head through his mask.

"I'm very, very happy. That's for sure"

//

Peru

“I’d like to begin with a massive massive thank you to you for such a warm welcome back to Peru, I remember being here in 2014 and I remember how incredible you were, and we’ve barely begun the show and you’re just as incredible tonight.” Harry said into the mic as he walked down the catwalk, you were fondly watching by the stage wings, absolutely enamored by the crowd and how beautiful Harry looked in his pink heart top,

"The last time I was here I went on a little hike with my girlfriend, who's here tonight by the way, give it up for my YN!" the screams grew louder at the mention of your name, and it didn't fail to warm your heart "We went to Machu Picchu last time, beautiful landscape, it was like watching my history books come to life," he continued, "However, I made the terrible decision to wear tight skinny jeans that day, I ended up with a nasty fabric burn on my bum," you couldn't help but laugh as you remembered how much of a cry baby Harry was when we had his little incident "Yeah, I was a naive 20 year old boy who didn't listen to his girlfriend, who persistently told him to wear more adequate clothes for the occasion." Harry turned his head towards you and sent you a wink, that didn't fail to make you blush like you were those 20 year old kids again.

"Anyway! Who's ready for more music? Mas musica Peru!" the lights went down and everyone got ready to sing and dance again, the smile on Harry's face growing bigger and his heart filled with happiness to be playing for another latin american crowd.

//

Chile

"Come here. I miss you"

"And I would also love to see you in that black bathing suit x"

You laughed as you read the texts Harry sent, you were currently in Santiago, Chile, and the weather was so nice the entire crew decided to spend the day by the pool.

You made your way towards the private pool area the resort designated for you, and once you spotted your boyfriend your mouth couldn't help but water a bit.

He was in his shirtless and black swimming trucks glory, his tattoos in full display and his skin glowing, arms open for you to crawl in.

"Finally, I've missed you" he said as you laid down next to him on the lounge chair he was resting, using his arm as a pillow.

"Don't be dramatic now, I was just gone for like 30 minutes" you turned your body sideways to look at his eyes, the sparkle on them hasn't left since you arrived to Colombia.

"Still too long," he placed your hand on your bare back and caressed it softly, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, "I don't think I'll ever be over yesterday." he said making your move to nuzzle your face on his chest, his hand not leaving your back.

"It was a great show lovie, and tomorrow will be just as good" you placed a chaste kiss on his chest, and rested your hand there.

"I mean yeah, but i was talking about the amazing blowj-" you swatted his chest before he could continue, "Harry! Your entire tour crew is around, have some class" you said, making him laugh hysterically and kiss the crown of your head multiple times.

"Baby, they know I'm not a virgin, don't be so shy now" he gave you a teasing smirk that made you roll your eyes with affection before standing up.

"I swear you're like a teenager sometimes, I'm hopping in the water, bye!"

//

Argentina

"Holy shit! Look at how packed that pit is already" Harry said as he got a peek of the stadium, it was still early but fans were already inside and waiting for him.

"You know how much your fans here love you, baby. Tonight's show is going to be crazy" you rested your chin on his shoulder, looking at the crowd with him.

"It's going to be one of the best, I can't fucking wait" excitement was evident on his voice and you couldn't help but melt a bit, the man you love was happy and that made you the happiest as well.

"They scored!" Anthony Pham's voice made you turn your heads, a bunch of the crew members were watching the Argentina vs Australia match on a small tv, and the screams from the crowd just confirmed that their country had just scored.

"Wait, put the match on the big screens, let's watch it together with the crowd" Harry said and guys from the tech crew quickly put the match on the stadium screens, making fans grow excited.

By the end of the match and by a close call, Argentina won and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams, the entire staff celebrating too and hyping the crowd.

"Go celebrate with them baby! Go on!" you urged Harry to go on stage, "You know what? Fuck it!" and he ran to the stage and hyped the crowd, celebrating the victory with them

Argentina gave him one of his best tour memories already and the shows were still yet to happen.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @rafeyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia

[sc4llywag]

Night in Monteriggioni

Summary: Based off of an email in ACB from Shaun bc I'm sad and I miss Shaundes </3

Pairing: Desmond Miles/Shaun Hastings

Characters: Desmond Miles, Shaun Hastings, Rebecca Crane, Lucy Stillman

Note: this probably has mistakes bc it's 3 am so shhh

The Animus shield flickered open, Desmond reaching towards his face when sitting up from the cushioned time machine. Lucy chimed out, "Welcome back Desmond!" Desmond stood and shook his nerves out from the previous Ezio session, stress still lingered on his mind from Ezio's own stress due to Claudia's close call at the Rosa in Fiore. Desmond stretched and rubbed his hands against his arms, trying to fight against the cold Sanctuary they camped out in.

Shaun typed away at his laptop, sleep was absent from his schedule recently. The assassin's losing contact all around the world didn't sit well with the crew. Especially in the cold quiet cave below the Villa Auditore. Desmond approached Altaïr's statue, mind still foggy with Ezio's memories with the sudden wave of mystery and curiosity. He hadn't checked his emails in a while and it had been a while since he actually touched a piece of technology other than the Animus. Crossbows and swords weren't his thing.

When he typed in his password, his inbox pulled up and a message thread between the four of them from Shaun;

"Colleagues,

We have been cooped up in this dungeon for ages. I feel it's best for both our sanity and productivity if we go into town tonight and enjoy the local colour.

A bit of wine and maybe some music.

S."

Desmond started typing, intrigued by the mention of drink and the escape from the musty cave. He responded quickly with a, 'Yes and thank you' to get the point through. Shaun turned to the other three surrounding him, "It's almost 5. So it's now or never and I'm not sure how much longer I can sit in this scummy hole of a sanctuary." Desmond crossed his arms, "It used to be a lot nicer. Trust me." Shaun rolled his eyes and gathered himself, his body aching from his hunched stature. Lucy stood as well, shutting off her laptop, "I agree. Desmond, are you experiencing any visions or drowsiness right now?" Desmond shook his head, half lying. He was exhausted of course but the bleeding effect had become so present it seemed like a normality.

Rebecca cracked her knuckles and stretched when approaching the other three, "I'm ready, let's head out!" They all made their way up the Sanctuary's never-ending staircase, all collectively stretching out a long breath from the fresh air. The sky was prickled with stars and a slow moon as they all traveled to the streets of the town.

The bar they reached was a relatively unpopular bar, hoping to keep some sort of low profile while enjoying themselves. They all agreed beforehand to just keep their ear pieces in and leave their altered phones in the Villa. Desmond ordered their drinks, cute little wine glasses with garnishes matching all their tastes. Lucy and Rebecca stayed to their conversations, mostly about tech savvy things and certain serious topics for when they returned home. Shaun and Desmond dipped silently at the other half of the bar. Desmond questioned if he was even awake, his body stiff and mind wandering off again. Shaun snapped his fingers, "Des, don't fall asleep at the bar. You're going to get us kicked out." Desmond shook his head as he smirked and sipped more of his wine. He couldn't get his mind off of how much had happened in the past weeks, he still couldn't believe it. He was relieved to have such great people surrounding him and supporting him.

Still he felt trapped within a simulation.

Shaun finished his wine first, again. Desmond wasn't surprised, keeping up with those databases and monitoring Ezio's memories became so time consuming. The Brit bit down on his orange slice garnish, finishing it in one bite and looked to Desmond, "I'm put off by how slowly you're drinking. Are you sure you're okay?" Desmond nodded hesitantly grabbing his glass again and downing the rest with a squint in his eyes, "I'll be fine after a few more." Shaun raised an eyebrow and ordered two more glasses, shorter this time to refrain from overdoing it.

Desmond's glass slammed down onto the wooden bar, trying to freshen his mind. 'What will Ezio do next?' 'Claudia got initiated quickly.' 'Fuck Cesare, he's a dick.' Shaun noticed his odd silence again until he noticed the music kicking up into something they all knew, Fooled Around and Fell in Love was a classic road trip song they'd click on during their drive from Florence to Monteriggioni. The slow rhythm got them all in this sweet slow vibe they all enjoyed. Rebecca rushed to the dancing area, joining a few other people that lingered in the bar. Lucy followed Rebecca and swirled around her, tipsily rocking her head and shoulders to the music. Desmond smiled as the familiar tune played and the girls dancing made him smile a little wider, but what was to happen next confused him.

Shaun stood and held out his hand to Desmond, his bar stool swung around away from the bar. Desmond placed his hand slowly into Shaun's. The redhead shook his head and threw himself and Desmond to the dance floor, lost in the small crowd as the lyrics played back in their heads. Desmond wasn't sure what to do, Shaun took the lead by grasping his hands around Desmond's to forcefully place them onto his hips and then quickly resting them around Desmond's neck. Desmond smiled and rose tinted his cheeks, the undertone of the dance lights highlighting his features, "Are you drunk?" Desmond asked within the space between them, loud enough so they could hear each other. Shaun laughed and squeezed closer as they shuffled their feet to the slowness of the music, "Are you? You haven't retracted from my presence yet." Desmond smiled, his scar so visible within this light, "Well I like this song and you so it's a win-win I suppose." Shaun routinely rolled his eyes at the ditsy man.

Desmond sighed as the music flowed through the atmosphere. He pressed his forehead against Shaun's, leaning into his body while he hooked his hands around Shaun's hips. He let himself disappear within the music, Shaun, and the bar's aura. Shaun raised his hands from the lower of Desmonds neck to underneath his ears and pulled him in for their soft kiss. Desmond leaned into it without hesitation or resistance, naturally fitting his shape to Shaun's. Shaun smiled into the press of Desmond's lips. Desmond made sure to thank Shaun later for pushing the group to get out and enjoy their night.

The song faded out as Desmond pulled away from Shaun, his hands still hooked onto him, refusing to release. Rebecca and Lucy approached snickering playfully at their loving display, "I think we should be heading back. Can't be out for too long." Lucy noted, pushing her blonde hair back after it fell out of her bun from their relaxing night. Shaun released his grip on Desmond and dug in his pocket for a couple euros and slid them to the bartender before they exited.

The night sky had become painted with more stars and the moon was higher, the view back made the groups night complete. Desmond couldn't help but cling on to Shaun while they walked back. For balance of course.

[spideybatsy]

A+B | Chapter Four

Summary: GN!reader is falling in love with Bruce Wayne, even if they won’t admit it. Everything takes a turn for the worse when Bruce’s biggest secret comes to light.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader

WC: 1.4K

Warnings: na

Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3

Masterlist

The chilly Gotham air fills my lungs as I travel down the poorly lit street. Walking in the middle of the night has become a habit of mine, it’s the only time I can feel him anymore.

It’s been three months since my attempted robbery and a lot of things have changed. One thing, really. Bruce. More so, the lack of Bruce.

He hadn’t reacted when I said his name, instead he led me into the street, checked me over and vanished into the night. Although I walked home alone, I could feel the heat of his gaze until I closed the front door. Stacey hurried over, asking question after question and insisting I file a police report.

“You can’t let him get away with this, it’s disgusting.” She was angrier than I was. At this point, I just felt empty.

“He didn’t get away with it, Batman showed up.”

The gasp she let out was so loud that I flinched at the sound. She instantly apologised but dived into a new set of questions. What was he like? What did he do? What did he smell like? Was this his cloak?

“Yeah, he put it around my shoulders.” I ran my hand over my cheek and flinched. Pulling it away, I saw dried blood smothered across my palm.

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“I don’t have insurance. It’ll cost so much that I won't be able to make rent.”

Stacey goes to respond but was cut off by a knock at the door. We shared a concerned glance. Who would be visiting at a time like this? Unsure what to do, we edged closer, but I flung the door open once I heard the all too familiar voice.

“Alfred, what are you doing here?” The older man stood in the hallway; a small box clutched in his hand. His face was scrunched in anger. The look only grew worse when he took in my face.

“Master Wayne sent me.” He stepped into the room and greeted Stacey for the second time that night. “He said you may need some help cleaning up.”

This was all the confirmation I needed. Bruce Wayne is Batman. Batman is Bruce Wayne. How else would Alfred know about my injuries?

We set up on the kitchen table, Alfred’s box filled with first aid supplies. Stacey stayed with us for a while but went to bed after seeing I was in good hands. The room was silent except for the gentle brush of cotton against my torn-up cheek.

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

Alfred looks at me and his eyes soften. “Yes.”

I hum. “Who else knows?”

“Me, the guy who makes his gear,” He goes back to cleaning my wounds. “And you.”

I wince as he hits a sensitive spot, Alfred apologises and goes back in with an even lighter hand.

“What happens now?”

“I don’t know.”

Alfred finished my wounds after about half an hour and left. I hadn’t seen him since.

My phone beeps with a message from Stacey. Where are you?

Just on a walk, will be home soon.

You need to stop doing that, it’s dangerous out there. I know she’s right, but I can’t stop. I miss him. I miss him so much.

I had texted Bruce that night, just a quick message to let him know I’d made it home okay. He never responded. We had organised our Wednesday lunch the week before, so I arrived at the restaurant and waited. He rarely runs late, so I sent him another message after five minutes to see if he wanted me to order for him. No response.

The anxiety flowed through my veins when I showed up uninvited to the manor on Saturday. Maybe, just maybe, he’d lost his phone. Maybe Batman stuff had come up and he didn’t have a chance to let me know. Either way, Alfred would let me know what was going on.

I walked up to the front door, knocked and waited. Usually, Alfred would greet me within seconds. But 10 seconds turned into 20. 20 into 30. 30 into minutes. I think I stood there for five minutes before I finally gave up and went home.

The worst part? The lights were on the entire time. They weren’t even trying to hide the fact they were home.

My car had still been in the shop, so I took a bus into the city and walked back to my house. Then I spotted him. The dark, intimidating figure on the rooftop above me. I turned to look at him, but he was gone. Still, I felt the heat of his gaze on me until I walked through the front door.

As an experiment, I walked home the evening after. Then the evening after that. For a whole week, I navigated the shadowy streets to my apartment.  And for a whole week, I felt him watching.

Maybe he didn’t want to talk to me. Maybe he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. But he still cared enough to protect me, even when there were more vulnerable people just around the corner. It made me feel safe. It made me feel loved.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still royally pissed off. Only a coward would give someone the silent treatment. I don’t know what I’d do first if I saw him again, hug or punch him. I do know, though, that I’d never let him go again.

I was just walking past an alleyway when I saw something glimmer. Turning, something shined back from within the darkness. The alley was so dark that I could hardly see a thing but still, I edge closer. At the end of the day, I knew the Dark Knight was watching over me. He’d protect me.

I was about to step further into the darkness when a hand pulled me backwards. I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped me as the stranger span me around.

“What are you doing?” His voice was so deep that it was basically a growl.

“God, you can’t just jump out like that.” I stumble back, “You’ll scare someone to death.”

“You’ll catch your death if you keep walking around in the middle of the night.” He basically snarls. “I can’t spend all my time babysitting you.”

His words cut deep, and I instantly feel my eyes stinging. “Well shit, sorry. I won’t bother you anymore.”

I turn away and start heading back down the street. I don’t know if it’s purposeful or not, but I hear him follow me. Something inside me cracks and anger begins to flood through my veins, numbing the pain. I snap back, coming face to face with the masked man.

“What is your problem?” I ask through gritted teeth. “I want you around and you leave me. Then you follow me and have the audacity to tell me to leave. If you want to be with me, just do it. If not, leave me alone.”

He merely stares back at me, an annoyed scowl on his face.

“I can’t handle the indecision. It hurts too much.” My voice grows quieter.

“You think you’re the only one hurting?” He takes a step closer, now our chests are brushing. “I think about you every minute of every day.”

“Oh please. You don’t get to be the sob story who lost your friend when you were the asshole who threw it all away!” I clench my fist, hardly noticing it shake.

“I don’t care about what everyone else thinks. I care about keeping you safe. Being friends with the Prince of Gotham is dangerous enough but with Batman too? You’ll be a walking target.” His scowl drops away as his lips press into a flat line.

“All this talk about my safety but what about my happiness?” I place my hand on his arm. “What about yours? Are you happy like this? Always keeping everyone away to protect them.”

“Everyone I love dies.”

“I’m still here and I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”  

My words have the opposite intended effect, as Bruce rips his arm away from me and staggers back a few steps.

“I won’t give you the chance.”

Then he disappears into the darkness.

Caught in the moment, we both forgot about the glinting item down the alley. The creature holding it slid further into the shadows, unnoticed and unseen.

[star-writr]

hi, sorry to bother you, I wanted to ask you if you could do 10th Doctor x reader, 4 times Reader kissed the doctor and once he kissed her instead

Hello!!!!! I am alive!!!!!! Finally!!!!! School has been crazy and I'm still in the middle of my oral exams but I really really missed writing. Luckily I had already started to write this a while ago and now I got to complete it. Also, I was really inspired by @bones233 bc they have a similar oneshot on their blog (which I absolutely recommend 10/10 their stuff is great I read it all the time) so if you want to you can check it out. Again, I'm very sorry for being inactive for so long. Enjoy!!

CW: slight mention of alcohol

Four.

“This is it. Paris, 1979”, announced the Doctor as the TARDIS’s engines went quiet. “I usually take people into the future, first, but since you asked so politely…”

You smiled, already feeling a bit light-headed. “So it’s a real time machine?”

“Yup”, confirmed the Doctor.

“And we’re in Paris?”

“Yup.”

“In 1979?”

“Unless we landed a couple decades too soon, then yes.”

The two of you stepped outside. The landscape had changed from the one surrounding you before getting inside the box. It was unbelievable to you. “Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”, you laughed, hugging the Doctor tight. He chuckled back, enjoying your cheerful reaction. “You’re the best!”, you said, then went off, excited. The Doctor followed you with an amused smile on his face.

Your first ever adventure with the Doctor turned out to be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. There were some ghostly-looking aliens involved, a wrinkled french writer, his granddaughter, Lina, and a lot of running around to save the world. At the end of it all, the night had fallen upon the most romantic city in the world, leaving the lights on for the inhabitants to enjoy its nightlife. You and the Doctor found yourselves bidding goodbye to Lina and his grandfather quite late and, by the time the Eiffel Tower shone brighter than anything else, you were still sat down at a table just outside a cocktail bar, with a glass of red wine in your hand. The Doctor’s eyes glimmered like stars in your direction.

“So,” he said, “how was it?”

You smiled. “Healthy, I think. I’ll never have to go jogging again after today.”

The Doctor chuckled, bringing his own glass to his lips. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Liked it?” you jokingly frowned. “Doctor, this has basically been the best day of my life.”

“Ah, just you wait,” he said with a smirk. “This is just the beginning.”

Grinning, you got up from the table, and the Doctor followed you, leaving both your empty glasses and the bill on the table. Making your way back to the TARDIS wasn’t easy, and as soon as you stepped inside you bid the Doctor goodnight. Alcohol wasn’t really your thing, apparently.

“Do you need anything? Some water? Something to eat?” he asked, but you shook your head.

“I’m fine, I just need a nap. Then I’ll be up and about in no time,” you assured him. You planted a quick kiss on his left cheek before even realizing, mumbled “g’night”, and stumbled to your room.

The Doctor’s hand stayed on his cheek as he silently watched you walk away. He felt… flustered.

Three.

As the raindrops made their way inside the prison cell and the careless wind wiffed through the bars, freezing the air within, you rested on the floor, chin on your knees, knees between your arms, waiting. The Doctor would have come in to save you any minute now.

The year 5907 on the planet Axorothrus had looked promising, viewed from the safety of the TARDIS and through the words of the Doctor, seemingly more invested than usual. Apparently the planet was stuck in the Middle Ages, quite resembling the human ones; even from inside a cell, you couldn’t help but agree. Much like the Middle Ages, the inhabitants of Axorothrus also feared every form of unknown technology or scientific discovery considered out of the ordinary, labeling these mysteries under their word for “witchcraft”, which, naturally, they weren’t too fond of. And who else but the Doctor could inspire that kind of fearful awe, with his shining magic wand, his honey-dripping words of wisdom that came from so far away, his promises to keep everyone safe, and his tales, brought up so often you’d think he kept them tucked inside the pockets of his jacket, flowing after his footsteps like a flag? With his companion out of the way, he could’ve been lured to the castle and executed, and his stories of bravery wouldn’t have struck anyone’s heart strings ever again. “Long live Axorothrus! Long live the King!”, echoed from outside.

Your faith in the Doctor faltered. Surely he wouldn’t have left you there, on your own, but he had to escape in the first place. What if he had failed? Was nobody coming to save you?

To distract yourself from the crushing silence which filled the prison, making you feel even more trapped, you started counting the seconds, or at least attempting to. You reached 600 seconds, then 1000, then 1300. No-one came. As you closed your eyes and fell asleep, the ticking of the rain lulled you.

You were woken up by the clattering of chains, various thuds and clangs, and the thick wooden door of the cell opening. “Come on, get out!” yelled the Doctor. You quickly got up and took his hand. He hugged you tight for a brief moment, then took a good look at you, looking for any possible injuries.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

“Now that you’re here, yes,” you smiled, still worried. “What made you take so long?”

A giant knight entered the hallway, his steps shaking the floorboards. “That”, said the Doctor, “that made me take so long. Come on!” As usual, you started to run, the Doctor’s hand in yours. You miraculously managed to get to the TARDIS without ever stopping to catch your breath.

It showed. With the wooden doors closed behind you, the Doctor put his weight on them, panting, and you sunk on the white-leather seat next to the console, huffing. Your lungs seemed ready to explode.

“And this is why Time Lords have two hearts,” the Doctor sighed, making his way over to the controls. “It makes us very good runners.”

“Stop bragging,” you laughed, out of breath. He sat next to you, an arm over your shoulders.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He seemed serious all of a sudden.

You kissed his cheek, hugging him. “Don’t worry.”

He put his hand over your head, sighing. He was worried, he couldn’t help it. How could he not be?

Two.

“Doctor, don’t leave me here.”

His eyes opened, and he jerked up on the bed, covered in sweat, your voice still echoing inside his mind.

He did not know when or how they had started to haunt him like this, but his nightmares now involved you. And although the Doctor had woken up like that a billion times before, the now present thought of you not being safe was enough to make him shiver.

He got up, frustratingly tossing his bedsheets aside. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing, then made his way over to your room. He listened, figuring out you were asleep, and quietly opened your door just enough for him to look inside. And there you were, your eyes closed, most of your body under the covers.

The ray of light coming from the hallway settled on your eyes, which fluttered open just to see the Doctor standing there. He seemed troubled.

“Are you alright?” you asked each other at the same time. It brought a smile on both of your faces. “Come here,” you told the Doctor. He made his way over to the side of the bed and sat next to you.

“Sorry”, he said. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

You smiled. “It’s fine. What’s up?”

The Doctor shook his head. He didn’t know. He didn’t know ‘what was up’ with him. “I’m sorry”, he repeated.

You furrowed your brow, placing your hand on his back. “Hey, it’s okay. Cm’ere.” You placed a kiss on his forehead and he sunk into your arms, swallowing a cry. He stayed that way for a long time, your fingers slowly sliding up and down his back while your voice lulled him. He was tired of losing you again and again, even if it wasn’t real.

Laying on the matress between the undone blankets the Doctor gave in to sleep – a peaceful one, this time. You followed his lead, placing your chin over his head and closing your eyes.

One.

“There. 20th Dicember.” The TARDIS engines went quiet, and the Doctor smiled at you. “Just in time for the holidays.”

“Are you really not going to come?” you asked. You'd been wanting to go home for a while now, but you were still reluctant. You didn't want to leave the Doctor alone.

He reassured you. “I'm alright. Plus, I've got my own visits to make.”

“What are you, Santa Claus?” you giggled.

“Don't tell anyone” he laughed, inching closer to you. “By the way, you look great.”

You pulled on the ends of your scarf. “I look the same as ever.”

“Yes, you do.“ The Doctor towered over you with a smile. You looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. He held the universe in his.

Without even thinking, you quickly pecked his cheek, flustered, then turned your back and walked away. “Okay love you bye!” You hurried outside and closed the doors of the TARDIS behind you. A stressed sigh escaped your lips.

Zero.

The holidays went by in a whiff, and the new year was a couple minutes away. The house was packed with relatives and friends, and you had gone outside for some fresh air. Pairing beer and vodka hadn't been the best idea, and it was starting to show.

Someone tapped on your shoulder, making you turn. And there he was, the Doctor, in his suit and messy hair, looking right at you with a bouquet in his hands.

“Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year”, you replied, smiling. “What's with the flowers?”

“I'm pretty sure it's customary... somewhere. Isn't it the day when you kiss everyone?”

You laughed. “Yes, it is.”

“And when you give flowers and chocolates to your... loved ones. It is, isn't it? What's so funny?”

“Have you confused Valentine's with New Year's?” you chuckled.

The Doctor was flushed. “...I think so, yeah.”

Fireworks began to paint the sky red and green and purple and gold. Ignoring the laughter and screams coming from inside, you looked into the Doctor's eyes and smiled.

“Is this the moment we kiss, then?” he asked. You nodded.

In less than a second, your lips crashed together in a warm embrace. It felt liberating for the both of you.

You separated after a long time, still enveloped in each other's arms.

“I love you”, the Doctor whispered, breathlessly.

You grinned, pulling him in for another kiss.

[puffpasstea]

Random blurb idea - could you please do a blurb maybe where Matilda travels to surprise harry on tour, and maybe has her text notifs off bc of travel so harry is upset/concerned bc she’s not responding to his messages? Like a mix of angst and smut?

Sorry if you hate this and its nothing like you wanted.

Warnings: angst, smut, (brief) mentions of mental illness.

---

"I'm sorry, okay? but to be fair, I never said I'd come for sure. I only said I'd try." I adjusted the phone in my hand.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to. I can practically feel you brooding all the way over here."

"'M not brooding. Know better than to expect you to just drive out cuz I happen to be playin' a show nearby. Even though we haven't seen each other in months."

"But you're not brooding or anything, right?"

"Right."

"I have to work, Harry! Not all of us can just change our plans on a whim and expect the whole world to accommodate our schedules, you know. Some of us have real jobs. Plus, you know I get anxious about this kind of thing. I'm not a professional rockstar-"

"No, you have a real job."

"C'mon, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"'S alright. I have to go, anyway. Sound check starts in a bit."

"Talk soon?"

"Bye, Matilda."

***

The wheels of my carry-on squeaked gratingly as I pulled it across the airport. I couldn't believe I was actually going through with this. I felt foolish. Like some love-struck teenager sneaking out of her bedroom at night for a boy who doesn't even know her name. Except I'm an adult. And Harry- well, it's complicated. But my therapist did say that I needed to start getting out of my comfort zone and doing things that I wouldn't normally do. Something about practice making things easier, or whatever. I've certainly never done this before. Granted I've arrived way too early for a domestic flight, and I'm sure I've overpacked for this weekend trip. Hopefully, the look on Harry's face will be worth it though.

A knot formed in my stomach every time I thought about how I spoke to him on the phone the other night. All he wanted was a chance for us to finally see each other again, but the thought made me feel threatened somehow. Like I'd admit to being attached to him if I were willing to come all this way. Of course, I could've been nice about it, or at least avoided implying that his job was less real than mine. All I can do now is hope that he doesn't still remember all that.

***

My fingers were shaky against the screen of my phone as I selected the "airplane mode" and plugged in my headphones. Perhaps getting four shots of espresso in my crappy airport coffee wasn't the sanest decision, or maybe the trembling was simply nerves, either way, I needed a distraction. Launching the music streaming app, I went for the "downloads" tab, and played "Matilda" as the pilot announced our take-off.

***

I ran across the airport, my squeaky luggage in hand until I reached the crowded escalator, regretfully bumping into the person in front of me before reaching a halt.

"E-excuse me, sorry." I whispered, but the man didn't seem to care. I peered beyond him at the long line of people. Damn was this thing crowded. I needed it to move faster. I needed to use the restroom. Airplane bathrooms gave me the creeps. And drinking soda with my stale complementary pretzels on the flight was a huge mistake with a bladder like mine.

hurry, hurry, hurry. I tapped my foot against my carry-on, impatiently, and earned a side-eye from the person in front of me.

"Again, sorry, sir."

***

I stared at my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror. Gross airplane smell isn't exactly the scent I want Harry to associate with me. I took out my TSA-approved, mini-toiletries and began damage control. Freshening up, re-applying make-up, and spraying some perfume might help counteract the post-flight aroma and general vibe.

I promised myself that if this ends up going badly, my therapist is going to have to pay me next week.

The shorter the distance between Harry and I, the louder my heartbeat felt. It was practically in my eardrums by now. I hated keeping secrets from him, but I've also never surprised anyone before. If I was being honest, there was a tinge of excitement and anticipation about this, underneath all the self-loathing and embarrassment. No matter what happens next, I should be proud of myself for trying, right? I should...

***

At the arrivals gate, I deselected the "airplane mode" to access the internet and put in Harry's hotel address. The second that my phone caught signal again, my notifications were blowing up. It took me a minute to get over the vibrations and buzzing, and when the flood had died down, I look at my screen, blinking intensely.

Harry Styles, 12 Messages

Harry Styles, 16 Missed Calls

Harry Styles, Voicemail

Holy shit! What had I done? I worried that he'd been trying to reach me to let me know how much he hates me; how he's glad I never ended up coming out to see him after all. What if this whole thing was a mistake?

My brain froze. I hastily scrolled through his messages, too paralyzed by anxiety to process the words on the screen. Vaguely, I caught sight of "Apologize" "Just missed you" and "worried you hate me" across all 16 messages.

jumping in the cab, I relished in his voice messages and listened to them repeatedly it with a stupidly wide grin blasted on my face the whole time.

"Please don't ignore my messages. It's one thing to do that when we're within driving distance and I can just bang on your door and call your bluff, but I kind of hate when I can't do anything about it now."

"I'm really worried, and I know it's manipulative of me to say this, but, I really don't want to go onstage knowing that you're mad at me."

"okay, I'm starting to think that you do want to upset me. Don't be like this. I just missed you. Can ya blame me? The show was hell in case you care to know. I mean, I couldn't not sing Matilda now, could I? You know what I thought about the entire time I was singing it, though? Remember the one time you decided we should go to your place instead of mine, after filming? You made us dinner and I fucked you against the couch? left a nice bruise on your neck. Some of my best work, I must say. Have you been with anyone...you know, since... It's not like you can't be. Why stay celibate. I'm not your boyfriend or anything. I could be. But you don't want that, so... anyway, they're knocking on my door. Bye."

What a giant idiot.

*

It was a little past midnight by the time that my cab pulled up to the lobby of the hotel Harry and his band were staying in. I gave the receptionist the fake name he usually uses for reservations like this and they eyed me from head to toe a few times before finally confessing his room number. It was a large penthouse-sized space on their top floor. No doubt booked specifically with all his gear, luggage, and concert items in mind. During the elevator ride to the summit, it occurred to me that he might have brought someone back with him for the night. Or maybe gone out. He'd told me some stories, from the beginning of his performing career, when he'd go to afterparties, and after-afterparties and pick up women and smoke and drink and do things that I could only imagine. But, he's also told me that he has since turned in the opposite direction, opting instead, for a very structured routine on tour. He'd found that performing the very next day with a raging hangover and on very little sleep made his stage presence shaky and lackluster, and he felt it was his responsibility to always give every performance his full capacity. So, it was very likely that he'd be getting ready to go to sleep soon, but what if tonight is the exception? what if he'd decided, on a whim, to go back to his old ways, just this once?

how would I feel if I were to find his lips attached to someone else's neck right now? And before I could wait around to make up my mind about it, I found myself knocking on Harry's door.

the door creaked open, and, I could swear I saw the wheels turning in his head.

"If you must know, no. I haven't been with anyone else since being with you. Not that it's any of your business."

He went from barely looking at me through droopy eyes, clutching the middle of his bathrobe, trying to keep his chest covered to looking as if he'd seen a ghost, to grabbing the cross on his necklace, kissing it, and looking up at the ceiling.

"Thank you Jesus. God, thank you, thank you!!"

I frowned. "I didn't know you were religiou- ahhhh"

He grabbed me by my shirt collar, dragging me into the room and shutting the door behind us.

"Aren't you gonna- ask- why I'm here..." I attempted to remain cool and collected as Harry busied himself with separating me from my luggage, shoving me up against the wall and kissing everywhere his lips landed.

"Don't care" he whispered in between leaving a trail of kissing down the side of my jaw and neck. "Just care that you're here."

"H-harry, wait. I just got off a plane, there's like airplane germs all over me." I swallowed my giggles, feeling tickled by the stubble he appears to be growing.

Harry used, looking up at me through his lashes.

"Fine" He relented, his arms still around my waist, squeezing gently, as if to verify that I was really here. "You can take a shower. There's a very nice bathroom here."

"That'd be nice." I leaned in, kissing his cheek, and enjoying the blush it caused.

Harry's fingers danced down my body and took hold of my hand. "Let me give you a little tour."

"Ooo fancy!" I scanned his residence enviously, until my eyes landed on his massive, and unmade bed. "You were sleeping?"

"Not exactly....was about to. But that doesn't matter now. Cuz I've got company!" he turned around to face me, his hands cradling my face, his sparkling green eyes looking directly into mine. "are you really here or is this the dream I'm having after going to bed thinkin' about you and worrying that I haven't heard from you? Is my subconscious just makin' this up? if so, I don't ever wanna wake up."

My heart melted in my chest. I didn't know what to say, so I simply kissed his lips, causing his eyes to flutter shut and his feet to momentarily lose balance before he held onto me to steady himself.

"Ca-can I...join you in the shower?" he asked, looking down at his feet.

"Seriously, Harry? shower sex? do you know how impractical that is?"

"N-no! not shower sex." He looked at me, briefly, before sheepishly looking down at the floor again, his arms finding their place around my waist. "N-not that I don't wanna fuck you. Just-- uhh...I just wanna hold you. If that's okay? You can say no! I can just wait."

I was glad Harry wasn't looking at me because I'm sure my face would've given me away instantly. I grabbed onto the sleeve of his robe, leading him to the bathroom. "Fine. You can come." I could feel his excited gaze on the back of my head.

***

"Food'll be here in 40 minutes." Harry placed the hotel phone back in its place.

I nodded, my eyes on the tv.

"So..." He stood by the side on the bed, towering over my scarcely covered body. My hair was still damp and he insisted I wear his t shirt even though I'd packed my own pajamas. "How long are you here for?" he spoke as he crawled onto the bed, situating himself squarely in between my legs.

"just- for the- uhh- the \ weekend" I stuttered as Harry's hands slipped under the fabric of my clothes and found my breasts, his thumb and index fingers lightly running over my nipples.

"Mustn't waste time, then" he kissed a line of wet, open mouth kisses from my belly button, reaching the band of my underwear. "May I?"

"Yes. God, yes." My breath quickened. Harry's soft voice asking for permission always got me even when we were sleeping together every other night. Tonight, it downright melted me. "P-please." I mewled, instantly embarrassed.

"Eager, are we?" the grin was obvious in his voice.

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

My heart fluttered in my chest, skipping a beat. "Yes, sir." I corrected.

"hmm.." Satisfied, Harry hooked his fingers through the band of my underwear, slowly, teasingly, dragging it down my legs. "That's my good girl."

[stiffyck]

It's not exactly hurt/ comfort, but may I offer you a later scene that is the payoff of some angst in these trying times? The exact detailing is probably going to change, bc it's gonna get switched to Scar's pov, but he's stuck in sad boi hours in my head, so woe, surprise Doc pov be upon ye.

Doc was in such a hurry to get to Scar that he didn't exactly knock, but he couldn't really be held responsible for that. Four seasons of work and he was almost certain he'd finally figured it out. He just needed a little insight into the anatomy and he'd be able to finish it. '

"Scar!"

Scar gave a frightened shout before turning around to face him, the block he was placing half falling out of his hand. Behind Scar, Cub was sitting in an already finished booth, a sharpening block and what looked like a couple dozen swords neatly stacked on a table.

Doc wasted little time on pleasantries, instead walking over and beginning to tug at the safety vest Scar was wearing.

"Take off your shirt, I need to check the anatomy."

Rather than complying, Scar took a step away, holding up a placating hand. A smile bordering on a smirk crossed his face, but Doc could see it didn't reach his eyes.

"Jeesh Doc, take a guy to dinner first."

Doc made a dismissive noise, while Scar carefully set the block down on a different table, turning to fully face Doc. This was exactly the opposite of what he needed the man to do.

"Now's not the time for jokes. I need to make sure I've got the joints right before I finalize the design for the redstone. So turn around and let me see your back." Doc gestured for man to turn around,

"What does redstone have to do with my back?" Scar's brow furrowed in confusion.

Behind him, Cub sat up straight, the sword he was sharpening clattering on the table as he turned to face Doc, obviously figuring it out.

"Wait, you mean..."

"Yes. It took me four seasons, but I think I finally figured out how to make it work. Once I double check that I've got the design correct, I should be able to get them built and we can do a fitting," the excitement he felt was seeping into his voice, and Doc knew the grin on his face had to be a little manic.

"What about me has taken you four...seasons-," Scar trailed off, turning unbelieving eyes towards Doc. "You...you mean you...my...my wings?" Scar's eyes began to glow dimly, filling with so much hope it hit Doc like a gut punch.

Doc knew he was doing this for the other man, but well, he was self aware enough to know he could get a tiny bit caught up in the mechanics of a project and forget the larger picture. Now however, the larger picture was staring him in the face, staring at him as if he'd just hung the moon. Some of the manic energy he felt left him, leaving behind simple joy and fondness for the person in front of him.

"Yeah man, your wings. If I have the measurements right, then by the end of the season you should be able to use them again, or at least a version of them."

Scar continued to stare at him a single moment, glowing eyes wide with shock. Then a heartbeat later Doc found his arms full as the other man wrapped him in a hug. Soft whistles sounded in his ear, in a pattern Doc had long ago figured out meant 'thank you'. He smiled and brought his arms around to hug Scar back.

"You're welcome, man. You deserve it."

Hopefully this will help balance all of the sad boi hours on your dash now. Enjoy. -The Weird Nonny

AJDIFKSKAKEIA AYEA YEA YEA OMG THIS IS SO CUTE

[jayflrt]

Yoiiiiiiii! Great minds think alike😙

But I’ve actually been wanting to talk about this for a couple of days. I recently saw a YouTube Short that listed the most hated trainees in survival shows. Seon represented for I-Land, but K and Ni-ki were mentioned in the comments. A LOT. And I saw one comment that didn’t have any replies, so I couldn’t fact check it quite well (it’s been so long since I watched I-Land and I didn’t know if what EJ said has been outside of I-Land so—), but it made the comparison of Ni-ki being the most hated because of what he did to Taki and EJ because of what he did to Daniel. I was very scared that this is going to be true but like I said, I could not fact check it exactly. But now that I know that it’s true, I have very complicated feelings.

I started to watch I-Land a long time ago, after I became a fan of ENHYPEN, and I’m honestly so fucking glad I did. I don’t know if I would be as big of an ENGENE if I watched the show first. Ik that a big contributor of that would’ve been M Snake’s evil editing and that they were just desperate kids fighting a life or death situation, but I still have so much trouble separating the two.

I didn’t even finish the show. I can’t remember exactly to what point I stopped watching. An episode or two after the second part started?

This is why I… strongly disliked (?) K for a very long time. I could not, for the life of me, get over the DNA unit and how he treated Ni-ki (it was especially bad since Ni-ki was pretty much my bias and I had grown to really love him). So even when &TEAM debuted, I could not look at him the same way (mind you, I didn’t watch &AUDITION at the time either. But I did start to watch it maybe a couple of months ago but then I stopped watching it🙃). But then I did end up giving him a second chance (and it was really strange).

But now finding out what Euijoo did is really messing with me and now I can’t look at HIM the same way😩 And it sucks because I loved him a lot— I LOVE him a lot… idk.

It’s honestly so crazy how this talk started on your account while this was happening in my brain lol.

I’m sorry for the long ass message, but I’ve been DYING to talk about this. It’s fr been eating me up😭😭😭😭 ENHYPEN and &TEAM are like my top two groups but I really really really wish I was blissfully ignorant of what they did in I-Land🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

omg yeah :(( tbh riki had much different intentions and voted taki out because he felt like taki could improve first and then come back to iland, and he communicated that perfectly to taki too. so i don't get the riki hate for that reason because everyone had to vote four people out anyways and it's hard to gauge to be faced with something like that right off the bat 🥲 ej's intentions with voting daniel out were .. interesting LMFAOO but it was also a decision they were making as children who just were competing to debut so i guess he was looking out for himself :') sometimes u gotta put yourself first !! tbh the final 12 were all people who were very proactive about putting themselves out there and had the survival show mentality while still being able to bond and not see each other as threats, which is why i do think more trainees needed to be a lot more forward 😔

yeah im glad i watched the show after they debuted too !! mostly because of the voting stuff bc honestly i didn't know the members too well before i watched the show LOL so i was genuinely surprised when k didn't make it since he seemed to be a producer favorite for a while 😵‍💫 but yeah that whole thing between him and riki reeeeally put me off for dna and i think he got even worse for flicker unit :/ he redeemed himself a little later in that episode and from then on but im glad you like k now ! yeah it's probably way different seeing him in a fixed group where he's secure instead of on a survival show where he's fighting to debut 🥲 i think since he was oldest out of the final 12 it felt more bittersweet when he was eliminated 🚶‍♂️

i get why it bothers you !! but im sure for ej's case i don't think any of them took the voting to heart or anything :') daniel was still suuuper happy for ej once he got to go back to iland even though he was sent to ground !! and ej was hugging daniel when he made it into the final 12 so the voting is definitely dramatized to feel worse than it is

[yostresswritinggirl]

ITS THE RETURN OF *checks notes* PAPILLON (🦋) ANON

I just wanted to thank you for being such a huge comfort blog during covid your posts got me through a really rough time :’) this community was so fun to be a part of and I’m glad there are still some familiar faces around

I, ON THE OTHER HAND, COMPLETELY REINVENTED MYSELF!!! I chopped all my hair off bc I decided that having sexy hair was not worth the sensory issues and also because I love the way a pixie looks on me (my head isn’t a weird shape like I thought it was) and once I started going to school in-person again I met a bunch of new people and recovered from isolating myself for an entire year and I’m WAY MORE CONFIDENT NOW

I actually took quite a large break from playing Genshin around my second semester last year and I only now started playing because Cyno came out👁 (I have been waiting for him since the trailer I LOVE HIM A NORMAL AMOUNT)

I actually joke pulled on Tighnaris banner because I wanted to get collei and umm I got collei,,, but I also got fox boy,, and then keqing so I had a guaranteed Cyno. I think this was Genshins way of bribing me to start playing again😭 it worked. I finished a bunch of quests I’d been putting off and I’m getting closer to starting the Sumeru archon quest ! !

Anyways today felt like a fitting day to come back from the dead because I literally had the most perfect day and it made me realize how far I’d come since my days as an anon in ur blog :’)

I hope everything is going good on your end as well and I’m glad your posting again (btw how’s that psychology major coming along?)

- Papillon 🦋

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT PAPILLON ANON, THE GODS HAVE BLESSED US TODAY FR

aaaaaa you're so sweet as ever, thank you too for keeping me company during the covid era, honestly it still feels like the pandemic is still rampant here but that's just me stuck inside at this point. but ah!! im so happy you're alive and better than ever! Oh look at you all, really growing up and finding your identities, even if it's been just what - almost two years i just feel so proud of you all for making it through the worst parts of our era and turning out for the best *wipes tears* Ah motherly tears

That makes you, me, and some others who also came back for Cyno! It's like the second coming or some shit lmao we love our boyo eventhoughiendeduppullingfornilouandsimpingforherhard

Oh please get that archon quest going, make sure to pace yourself by the way cuz that shit takes HOURS but it is SO WORTH

Again again, so happy you found your way back, I missed you just the same! And that ahah I graduated back in July! I'm now getting ready to take my board exam to have my professional license, four hours+ every saturday and sunday for 6 months hence why im quiet during the weekends but it's going well!

[canyouplzjust]

I came here to get down and chew bubblegum (chaos edition)

The Factory level was far more dangerous than we could have imagined. Brock and Temm got us into a long elevator with two buttons in it. Didi and I did not communicate at all about what we were looking for, I guess we just understood we were going to take care of business first and then act like detectives? Weren't we just supposed to ask the guys for info and report back to Les and Rory? Honestly, I don't remember and it didn't occur to either one of us that something bad might happen in the area that had been cleared of all personnel, on a space station plagued by a recent rash of inhuman violence. We were just trying to get laid.

Of course it worked. The four of us were totally wrapped up in each other and getting to the locker room was close enough to privacy. (editing note, i wanted to add that the industrial floor was empty or had an echo or something, but I really don't know bc I didn't do a single check of my surroundings). I don't know what I can say about the sex, but it was fun and satisfying, and although I'm not an exhibitionist, it was kinda nice to have an audience. Who even am i? By the way, I was in an audience as well, and if you can believe it, I'd never seen Didi fuck before. It was like watching her play lead guitar. She's so good at it, and there's a natural talent that you just can't teach, ummm I know it cause I have it, omg this sentance has to stop now. So, yeah the sex seemed normal while I was having it, Brock was shaped like a saddle and bucked like a bronco, but I was flooded with feelings even before the blood got back to my brain. Didi and I shuffled off to the shower together to whisper about surveiling something, it was a shit plan, doesn't fucking matter. I got so mad at her for a good reason I can't remember (failed wisdom save), and when her face was inches away from mine, I remembered that my breath still smelled like semen when I started whisper-yelling at her to get our shit together. We were interrupted by a blood-curdling scream from the locker room, so we ran from the shower to see what was going to make take this roller coaster of a night off the fucking rails. Naked and crazed, Brock was on top of Temm, pinned to the ground, with Brock's thumbs deep in his eye sockets, and Temm was screaming. We were frozen for what felt like two weeks. As soon as we could move I used the Voice to break up the violence. It didn't last for long, and Brock came straight for me as Didi scrambled to put some pants on. I was still naked and dripping wet when Brock grabbed me by the throat and lifted me against the wall, jesus christ he was so strong and he was still visibly hard, and I know I was fighting for my life but I did think about just giving up and getting fucked to death for like half a second. It all happened so fast, Didi kicked him in the taint and I landed on my feet. The smell of bubblegum filled the room as I told the boys to GO HOME, but Brock was having trouble finding his way. I was too. I ran over to help Temm to his feet, but Didi was there first and I could smell her shampoo at the same time that I was smelling Temm's blood and bubblegum, why was she looking at me like that? "You're not my girlfriend," I wanted to shout at her, but it didn't make any sense to say it out loud. I knew that, but I still wanted to fucking hit her. Was she watching me get dressed or just watching my back? These are all things to deal with later, because I felt very certain that 2 more minutes in this place was going to permanently wreck my brain. I walked Temm to the elevator and Didi did a final sweep for Brock. Why, Didi? She came back without him, running at a full sprint and we caught the elevator just in time to avoid making one more wisdom save.

The top of the elevator was a bunch of guards with weapons, wherever they were going to take us was going to be better than what fate we had just narrowly avoided. Look, I've got a lot to say about Korvath Kyball and his Centerpoint Station situation, but I was almost glad to see another Dictator for once in my life. He came down to the platform to see what fuck ups had gotten into his fortress. He seemed legitimately concerned about Temm and promised that he could be healed or repaired in Medical. I knew we were getting brought up to his office, but i didn't know if we were going to have to fight our way out. Goddamn, I really wished I had a gun, yet again, but instead I shocked Didi by holding up my hands in supplication and submitting to the bizarro gag he wanted to put on me. I just opened my mouth like a good girl and let them fasten it behind my head. I'll let Les tell you how he and Rory stole a police van and crashed into the interrogation to save us. It's a good one.

PS. Have you ever gone all the way with a guy because it seemed more dangerous to try to get away at a certain point? I've only done it once and I don't regret it. It was less of a guy and more of like a monster situation, if you had been there, you'd get it.

[thetenthdimension]

I Can't Stop Writing Diaries

There’s this one picture I took two years ago. Well, it’s two pictures, one isn’t as good as the other so I forget about it.

It’s the picture I look back on as the axle that my life is spinning around. At the solstice of 2022, at the age of 27, I went to a park in Tolworth that was on my way to work. I arrived at dawn, changed into a white floral dress, and did sun salutations at sunrise. After that, I did Tai Chi until I had to start work at 6am.

That day I was thinking the culmination of thoughts who-knows-how-long in the making. “I don’t want to look back at the age of 50 when so much of my life is already done, and just wish I had the courage earlier”. Three, maybe four, days later I finalised my new name and spoke to a couple of friends. It was time to transition.

The picture was taken at the Solstice, as the sun rose, in that dress, doing those sun salutations. One of the most pivotal moments of my life actually captured.

I can’t stop thinking about Herodotus.

He’s the “father of history”. The first (western, preserved) person to write an extended record of history. Before him, all we have is archaeological artefacts. We look at them and guess their meaning.

Even this is amazing. The amount of oral history that floated away as soon as it was spoken must be staggering on a level of a shadow-internet. We have a literary record with herodotus. He brings the past into vivid colour. You look at the Proto-Indo-European culture of 4000 BC and you piece it together with some wheels, some cups, some grave goods, and the odd descendant word across 500 descendant languages. Herodotus makes history feel like it’s finally arrived.

I never used to take pictures. Certainly not of myself. The first time I ever took lots of selfies was after I was an extra in Bohemian Rhapsody. They put me in pretty makeup and did my hair and on the last day, I asked them very politely not to wipe it off or undo it. I took all the pictures at the train station. It was the first time I ever felt compelled to do this. I remember loving myself and finally feeling good. My scene got cut.

I look back on those pictures and make my best guesses as to my thoughts. I think they jog my memory. I’m grateful to have something to latch onto. How much is lost, though?

One thing they ask you during a psych evaluation for transition is “were you unhappy then? Are you happier now?” God, I think so? I feel happier, I think? I look back at bright spots and dark spots and I can say there’s a common thread. But how can I reconstruct my thoughts when so many of them have just floated away?

I have these moments I call Talismans. Moments that when I doubt myself, I think back to and remember the feeling. Spending an hour staring at myself before a goth girl concert because I felt I looked amazing. The first time I got gendered right when I’d deliberately put little effort in. I try to hold them and the feeling close. I keep them written down, because I want to preserve those thoughts. How can I prove to myself I’ve transitioned if I can’t prove I’ve changed?

But the thing I cling on to more than anything is this: even if I can’t prove I’ve had that change, I know in that moment that I Want it. I’m desperately checking my face, body, and mindset every day to try and find any evidence that the hormones are working. Even if I don’t have a vivid history, I can learn to trust my present.

It’s two years on. I’m back in that park. I was here last solstice too. It feels good to collect my thoughts again. Who knows what’ll feel good next year. All I hope is that that’s what I’m doing.

[liarsweapon]

besidesthe first one idk if ima color any of these bc these sketches were primarily my looking at multiple references and trying to copy what i was seeing as closely as possible w the exception of like clothing changes and little things like that but these are the base sketches i got done before my mother decided she needed to control a 24 year old again

last one @folkesange my mom interrupted me before i could figure out how to lineart an ether merm tail slksskks