#one probably had a crush on me back and I kick myself often for not realizing it. (read my favorite book when I mentioned it

[dootznbootz]

I'm technically most likely demiromantic (definitely demisexual) which is technically on the aro spectrum but I'm sooooo romance favorable that it almost doesn't feel like it counts????

I'm a huge romantic sap but I'm kind of funky with crushes. I have them and I get them but I'm very particular and I almost have... control over them???

Like when I start to feel the feelings™, I then start looking at a possible relationship through "logic lens".

"Compatible here, there, there too. Okay, we're not with that though, and I will not move on that so therefore it will not work. Alright, cool! Best friend! Best friend! Best friend!"

I can just shut off the feelings™ once I get the feeling it's not gonna work, especially if it's on something I will not change. If I have a feeling there's potential, I let feelings "grow".

[fuxuannie]

i lobe ur writing style sm its so comforting!

can i req a ‘things hsr men do when they have a crush on you’ ^^ (like some would outright flirt and others would be super flustered etc.)

* pairing(s) : various (4) hsr men x gender neutral reader

* prompt : request

* authors note : banabsmwns THANK YOU ALL FOR 700!!! the support really makes me so giddy and very happy n i hope i continue to make content you all enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و i'm gonna lay off uploading as often as i used to, but It's not complete radio silence! i just wanna try and write when i want to, and not force myself. ♡

DAN HENG is VEEERY very nervous around you when he's realized his feelings towards you were romantic. He tries to flirt, (he tried to do the 'pinning you to the wall' thing but he backed out the second his hand made contact with the wall and you couldnt find him for a week) but is painfully bad at it.

You smile and his heart is doing BACKFLIPS, he has to clear his throat, turn around and hang his head down low just to fail and hide the pretty shade of red on his cheeks.

He's so easily flustered by anything you do, that man is crazy inlove that Caelus starts calling him delusional for thinking how yours and his hands briefly brushed over each other meant you may or may not reciprocate his feelings.

He likes to talk about you to March and Caeulus a lot, (they're sick and tired of him) but they're just happy you can bring that kind of smile to his face. The absolute adoration in his eyes and the fondness in his smile as he talks about you, who wouldn't be happy for their friend if they looked like that? Even if they're tired of him talking about eye contact wih you for 3 hours, he's happy and you make him happy. That's all they ever want for him.

JING YUAN is subtle, and tries to be cool when it comes to his crush for you. However, he trips on his words whenever you playfully tease back or anything of the such. He even makes stupid corny jokes that aren't that funny but are so bad you can't help but laugh.

His busy schedule does make trying to make time to see you much harder. Unless you work within his organization, he'll barely get to have a conversation longer than 3 minutes. So whenever he does see you during his non-work hours, he'll try to a lot of time with you to make up for the times that he couldn't be by your side.

He's pretty subtle with his flirting, offering to lock arms as you tour Luofu so that 'he can keep you close and won't lose you' and purely out of respect. He's probably really poetic with his teasing or flirting too, comparing your beauty to Aeons.

It's pretty much obvious that GEPARD gets nervous around you, but he's so adorable your heart cannot handle it. You loved to squeeze his cheeks whenever he's flustered, making it impossible to look away and leaving you to giggle at how he mutters how embarrassed he felt.

You're already well aware of his crush on you, (not that he was good at hiding it) but you just needed to be ready. You loved him back with your whole heart, but you just needed time, and Gepard could wait.

He even gained your guardians approval, that on the day you were ready, they would give him his blessing. They knew Gepard was a man with a pure heart, one that was ready to love you with the love you deserved.

CAELUS had grown fond of you, but his crush on you was surprisingly soft. He wanted to protect you, and with what he was capable of, he loved to do it. Your praise in his ears is like music, he could never get tired of taking care of you and it's almost like a love language.

He has such a sweet smile when he looks or thinks of you, something about you makes his heart melt, kick his feet and twirl his hair like a school girl or something. (this is a joke)

Spending time with him usually consists of you doing whatever you want, and Caelus following you like a lost duckling. He likes it when you grab his hand, and drag him wherever. You might be rambling about something, but his only focus is the way you and him intertwined fingers and how soft your hand felt in his.

taglist : @renalord @calxb-do @veezablog

[imababblekat]

To Catch A Turtle

@foxespen, "So part of the spiderman powers are having enhanced strength, right? So they could probably pick up any one of the turtles pretty easy, even if they stand at like half the brothers’ height. Imagine during a fight one of the boys gets thrown off a roof and their friendly neighborhood spider catches them and is just hold them bridal style and says like “if you’re gonna fall for me, it doesn’t have to be on a roof”Or something"

~xXx~

It wasn’t often the boys and (s,n) would get into a tough fight, but it seemed that with BeBop and Rocksteady, it always was one. They were two formidable foes for the ninja turtles alone, so having someone like you to fight along side them in these cases was always a welcome advantage.

When Donnie had relayed an alert from Casey, it wasn’t long till the four brothers found themselves fighting the two enemy mutants atop a bank building. Five minutes into the fight and you made your entrance by web launching yourself into BeeBop’s face, with a corny, “Starting the party without me I see!”, as you back flipped off the warthogs face. Just like that, with cheerful greetings, you and the crime fighting terrapins fell into sync, dishing out all you could against the other two. However, as the fight drew on, perhaps due to growing exhaustion, not everyone was able to stay on top of their toes.

“What do these guys even want?!”, you asked aloud, dodging a thrown pipe and landing next to Leo.

The leader in blue charged forward, swinging his dual swords at Rocksteady who was quick to hold up a chunk of broken building to block the attack. Narrowly ducking out of a punch from BeBop, Donnie swung his staff into the warthogs side, earning a harsh yelp from the assailant.

“Not sure. April thinks they’re making some sort of deal and need the cash to do so.”

“Stay out of our business, turtles!”, BeeBop snapped, grabbing Donnies staff and shoving the taller terrapin back into Raphael who had tried to attack from the side.

“The zoo’s not going to take you two, no matter how much you bribe them!”, you quipped, easily dodging Bebops attacks and jumping onto his back, blinding him with multiple web shots and tugging him in different directions as he started a blind rampage.

A loud laugh came from Mikey as he watched you rodeo the warthog, Leo and Donnie running towards you to assist.

“Good one, angel cakes!”, Mikey winked, just missing a punch from Rocksteady.

“The insects jokes are lame!”, the rhino grunted with irritation, grabbing a hold of Mikeys swinging nun-chuck and pulling him forward to give him a hard kick.

“Hey! Only I can call their jokes lame!”

Rocksteady quickly looked over at the person who had shouted, only to suddenly be tackled by a very heated Raphael. With a strong hold of the larger mutants midsection, the red clad ninja used all of his might to push the other to the edge of the building. Despite nearly having the wind knocked out of him by Raphael, Rocksteady was quick to firmly grasp his shell. With a loud grunt from above, Raphael had suddenly found himself being lifted into the air, staring down at a triumphant Rocksteady before being sent flying over the tall buildings edge. The last thing heard, as Raphael struggled to regain sense of what was up and what was down, were his brothers frantically shouting after him. At the height he just been thrown from, Raphael knew that even collapsing into his shell would prove futile to the crushing gravity once he hit the streets below.

Out of nowhere, Raphael felt his stomach lurch back and forth as something, or rather someone, swiftly swung him from one side of a building to another in a quick descent. It wasn’t till the world stopped spinning around him did Raphael peek open an eye, confusion followed quickly by shock when he realized who had been his savior.

“You know, Raphael, you make quite the cute damsel in distress if I do say so myself.”, you cheekily jested, and said turtle could just picture your eyebrows wagging beneath your mask.

(S,n) had been holding the bulky terrapin like he was air. Their arms snuggly wrapped beneath his knees and the midsection of his shell. Despite the alarming size difference, you cradled Raphael so carefully and securely, in a way that he had wished to someday carry a significant other. Yet, to be the one being held in such a manner, caused the macho man of a turtle to feel his face quickly heat up, and scramble out of your arms even quicker when he heard the approaching foot steps of his brothers. One could practically feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off of him, as he tried desperately to play things cool.

“What happened to BeBop and Rocksteady?”, Raph questioned his brothers, hoping beyond belief that they hadn’t seen a thing.

“They managed to get away, but not without leaving behind what they tried to steal. Casey and the NYPD are on their way to pick up the stolen goods.”, Leo informed, looking between his flustered sibling and the spider person beside him.

Raphael just let out a scoff, turning sharply and walking off in a random direction.

“Where are you going?”, Mikey confusingly asked.

“To find my sai's.”

“Your welcome by the way!”, you shouted out, to which Raphael simply sent you back a deep scowl before returning to his search.

Despite the aggravated grumbling you could hear come from the hot headed person you saved, you continued to smile to yourself, the squinted eyes of your mask telling of your hidden expression. Pulling out a pen and small note pad, the parchment labeled (s,n) Notes, Donnie began to scribble away.

“Did he even weigh anything to you?”, he questioned with scientific curiosity.

You shrugged, hands on your hips as you peered up at Donnie.

“Like a feather.”

“Oo, oo! Me next!”, Mikey excitedly shouted, bounding towards you at top speed.

Not even your spidey senses could have prepared you for Mikey’s suddenness, you both collapsing to the ground just as you’d barely caught him in your arms. Leo merely shook his head in slight disappointment, Donnie continuing to jot down notes, and Raphael in the distance still trying to calm his flustered heart.

~xXx~

[sarahlizziewrites]

Friday Kiss Tag

Posting this for the second time, because Tumblr deleted my last one! I was tagged by @sarandipitywrites here with their steamy kiss scene <3 <3

Here's an extra long snippet from The Ruby of Ranpur, because we all need extra romance in our lives right now, I think. This is a flashback to when the crime-fighting husbands first became crime-fighting boyfriends.

Since the night of the fireworks, Raj had been a guest at my home as often as we thought we could get away with. Intimacy like this - even if nothing had actually happened; nothing condemnable, at any rate, not yet - was always a risk, but we had both figured out that being apart was an option that hadn’t suited either of us. 

And even if nothing had happened, yet… the taut, struck-crystal tension between us put everything into sharper focus when he was around: someday, it would break. Since the night on the mountainside when I realised I loved him, I had only grown more magnetised to his presence, like a compass, oriented north at all times. 

“Ah,” he said, coming in and closing the door behind him. “I should have told you it’s Maha Shivaratri - she’s probably at home, praying with her family.”

“Damn,” I said. “Well, there’s nothing to eat. We could go out, try and find a restaurant in the city that will seat us–”

“Nonsense,” he said, turning down the corridor that led to the kitchen. “I can cook.”

In moments, Raj had whipped up a storm in the kitchen, placing the mutton joint in a shallow iron pot and adorning it with spices and a good glug of water. For each spice he placed in the pot, he crushed it in his hands and held out his palms for me to smell it, explaining the flavour profile and the role each one played in the cooking.

Little of it stuck, to my regret, because I was too distracted by the competent way he moved around the kitchen, and the enthusiasm in his smile. I was growing dizzy with the smells and the warmth of the hearth and his attention, and I hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol to drink. I didn’t want any.

“Try this,” he said, proferring a spoon. Somehow, both his bright kurta and my white shirt had been spared splashes of the oily, tomato-rich curry, and now, I leaned forward to carefully blow on the taste he offered me. This close, I was hyper-aware of how wonderful it felt to have the heat of his body close to mine, how I had to tilt my chin up to see his smile properly, and how becoming his thick, dark eyelashes looked against his cheeks.

Almost as soon as I closed my lips around the spoon and tasted the thick, creamy sauce, I’m ashamed to admit that I let out a noise somewhere between indelicate and sinful. My eyes slid closed in bliss. The flavours that exploded over my tongue were nothing short of exquisite: there was heat, and spice, and richness, but then, there was a surprisingly delicate herbal-citrus aftertaste that made my mouth water for more. 

I was so focussed on the pure sensation of the flavour that I hardly noticed when Raj slipped the spoon away and replaced it with his lips.

My mouth parted in surprise, but it was as though he was chasing up the rich heat of the curry with his kiss, soft and slow. I quickly determined that the taste of him was no less tempting. Something warm - something other than the curry - settled below my breastbone, tingling against my heart. 

He pulled away, and a breath of air fell between us. His hand had come to rest against my shoulder, fingers just brushing the short hair at the back of my neck. The expression on his face was somewhat tentative, almost worried.

“Say something,” he said, after a few long moments of silence. “Say anything. Tell me if this isn’t welcome. Curse at me and kick me out. I’ll leave forever, if you’d like me to.”

“God, don’t leave,” I whispered, regaining my wits and pulling myself closer to him. Those fingers tightened in my hair. “It’s only… I’m trying hard not to rip your clothes off and have you right here by the stove.”

He laughed, relieved and light, then tugged me close to kiss again, more insistent this time. In one movement, he pressed me against the brick wall surrounding the hearth, and dropped his spoon, letting it clatter against the tiled floor. I barely noticed: every inch he was touching me was alight with need, that crystal having shattered and spilled me like a spirit. I felt I could catch fire. 

“The curry,” he murmured between kisses. 

“Curry later,” I replied, digging my fingers into his kurta and trying to pull him closer, closer. He sunk his teeth into my bottom lip, and I groaned. “Kiss me now.”

I'm going to tag @queen-tashie, @theburnedoutnerd, @kaylinalexanderbooks and @late-to-the-fandom

TDDUP taglist (+/-): @vacantgodling, @imsoveryveryconfusedatlife @mrbexwrites, @glbettwrites, @writingrosesonneptune (+/-)

gorgeous dividers from @cafekitsune

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Number 9: pressing face against other's neck to hide from the world + the number that's a tender kiss to the crown of someone's head.

Pairing: Eskel x Jaskier.

Thank you and pretty please ❤️

“I’m fine!” Jaskier says as Geralt and Eskel deposit him on the grimy little straw mattress that this inn considers a bed. “Really, I appreciate the three of you rushing gallantly to my rescue, but I had the situation well in hand.”

“Bardling, you just spent a week in a dungeon.” Yennefer looks unimpressed.

“A very nice dungeon,” Jaskier says. “It had a chamberpot! You don’t get amenities like that in most Northern dungeons. I need to get arrested in Nilfgaard more often.”

“No,” Geralt, Yennefer, and Eskel say at the same time.

“Are you hurt?” Eskel looks him over, a frown creasing his brow.

“A few bumps and bruises.” With a wince, Jaskier touches his bruised stomach. One of the soldiers who arrested him had a kick like a mule. “But compared to the last time I found myself arrested, it was a dream. The guards actually liked my singing!”

“Well, Nilfgaard is a notoriously uncultured country,” Yennefer says.

“Missed you too, you dreadful witch.”

Geralt gives her a tired look. “Yenn and I are going to go check on Ciri. Can you stop him from getting into trouble for an hour, Esk?”

“I’ll do my best.” Eskel nods gravely.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on leaving this bed anytime soon!” Jaskier calls after them. As the door closes behind them, he turns to Eskel. “Have they worked things out, then? They seem far chummier than when we all left Kaer Morhen. I hope so. Please don’t tell her I said this, but I’ve grown quite fond of Yennefer.”

Eskel watches him with worried golden eyes. “You sure you’re okay, songbird?”

Under that familiar gaze, Jaskier can feel his facade start to crack. With effort, he keeps his bright smile on his face. “Really, I’m fine. I knew you’d find me eventually.”

Except, he hadn’t, because he thought that Geralt and Yennefer were hiding in some remote corner of the Continent with Ciri and that Eskel was walking the Path. He hadn’t expected any of them to know that something had happened to him until it was far too late.

“And there was no torture.” Jaskier wiggles his uninjured fingers to demonstrate. “No burning, no beating, no breaking of fingers. Everyone was quite civil, actually.”

They’d been waiting for someone to come to interrogate Jaskier. Whether it was the fire fucker or some other sadistic bastard, Jaskier thankfully never learned. The waiting had almost been worse than pain.

“And the food was actually quite good.” Jaskier is starting to hear the strain in his own voice. “Have you ever had olives, Eskel? I was skeptical at first, but I’ll admit, they grew on—”

Eskel closes the distance between them in two strides and sinks down onto the mattress next to Jaskier, pulling him into his arms.

Half-heartedly, Jaskier tries to push him away. “Love, I probably reek. I just spent a week in a dungeon.”

“You don’t smell any worse than this damn mattress.” Eskel’s voice is a familiar, soothing rumble.

“The sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Jaskier laughs weakly and tucks his face into the curve of his lover’s throat. He smells like leather and horse and the slow, steady beat of his pulse is wonderfully familiar. Burrowing closer, Jaskier tries to block out the memory of the past week—the fear, the uncertainty, and the crushing loneliness.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it out this time,” he murmurs into Eskel’s skin. “I didn’t think anyone would know to look for me. I figured you wouldn’t know I was gone until the winter.”

“Yennefer heard a rumor and she and Geralt came to get me.”

Jaskier huffs a laugh. “Gods, does this mean I owe Yennefer my life again? Bring me back to the dungeon, Eskel, I can’t bear it.”

Eskel brushes a feather-light kiss across Jaskier’s forehead. “No.”

Jaskier tightens his grip on the front of Eskel’s shirt. “Horrible man.”

Eskel kisses him again, pressing his lips against Jaskier’s temple. “I told you when we left Kaer Morhen, if you needed me, I’d find you.”

Jaskier feels a lump rising in his throat and swallows it back. “That’s the second sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He starts laughing at his own joke, the sound odd and ragged.

Eskel kisses the shell of his ear. “You’re okay, songbird. I’ve got you.”

The laughter dies in Jaskier's throat and he closes his eyes, cuddling closer to Eskel, and lets himself think of nothing but strong arms around him and the familiar heartbeat under his cheek. That dark, dank dungeon with no company but the sound of his own singing is far away. Eskel is here and Jaskier is okay.

24 Touches Prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

[honeynclove]

TELL EM ABIUT YOUR OCS

HIHIHIHIHIHIHI THANK UOU FOR ASKING ASTER :DDDDDDDD

ok SO the one who’s been on my mind recently is my twst oc named emerald :D

who tumblr has not met yet I don’t believe?? ANYWAYS he’s

based on Morgana from the little mermaid 2

but is also mildly based off of Vanessa from the first movie and the fact that Ursula is based off of a drag queen.

his name is emerald bc octavinelle all have color names technically and i already had an oc named Verde. So! Emerald :D

he uses Em as a nickname

as far as I’m aware Morgana is younger than Ursula? But Emerald doesn’t feel younger than Azul to me? Idk they might be the same age and emerald was just the one born after.

who knows??

Anyways! he’s apart of the pop music club and is a fan of rock music

he also has his own little group based on Morganas side kicks that perform in the mostro lounge

in my mind hed be the lead singer of both but I’ve played around with him playing the keyboard or whatever other random ass instrument the pop music club could need.

and he does drag often! just for funzies idk he’s cis but prefers to dress gnc bc it’s fun for him bc he enjoys it and idk I love gnc men love myself

BI ICON ‼️‼️‼️

HIS HAIRCUT IS CALLED A JELLYFISH/OCTOPUS CUT!!!!!!

he’d probably be in the film studies club if the pop music club didn’t exist

But he’s really not the best actor

Hes a octavinelle student so yeah he’s good at all that shady stuff but you hand him a script and he’s stumbling and fumbling with his words

much prefers musical performances and this is mildly a call back to how the little mermaid prequel is about music

Has Big Plans that Might lead to an overblot I haven’t thought about it that much I just know it happens so he can serve in OB form

he and azul are siblings obvs

their relationship is kinda strained? idk emerald kinda resents azul after being compared to him and feeling less competent to azul

but he still loves azul and all

idk they bicker a lot

is always getting scolded for not wearing his uniform properly but it’s not like he’s serving tables so

he is always serving tho ☝️☝️

he used to have a childhood crush on Floyd but that might’ve just been bc I was in my Floyd era at the time

IDK THANKS FOR LISTENING TO MY YAPPING

[whats-wild-to-you]

OMG hii ur back 😍 can i request? I thought about this when Jay was on tour but u were away too so I didnt want to bother u

can u write one for Jay’s POV when he finds a letter that u stuffed in between his clothes before he left for tour? like the letter is u wishing him well, asking him to rest and not work himself too hard, basically sappy fluff to make me cry

oh .. the feels 🥹🥹🥹

I guess you mean the Won Soju tour? Which, side note, is a BRILLIANT idea! When he mentioned it that he should maybe do a Won Soju tour instead of a ‘regular’ one … genius entrepreneurial mind at work 😍

Anywayyyyyyy…

______________________________________________

I dragged my suitcase inside the hotel room, kicking the door close with my foot. Suddenly being back home, in the U.S., felt bittersweet. On one hand I was dying to meet up with my friends again, on the other hand I kept thinking about who I left behind.

It's only been a couple months since we started dating, but she had already become a vital part in my life. Against my intuition, my strong will to separate business from private life, I found myself turning to her whenever I needed advice or a second opinion.

She would often stay over or I would sometimes crash at her place and we'd be like an old married couple, sharing chores and falling asleep next to each other in front of the tv.

Sighing, I immediately took out my phone to text her. Chuckling to myself, because she didn't demand it, but I felt the need to keep her updated nonetheless.

I'm in L.A. in my hotel room. Looks pretty nice. Kinda empty though.

I added a photo of the view and a selfie of me looking all mopey. After a minute I got a text back.

You'll do great. Fighting!

I was hoping for a more heartfelt response but remembered the time difference. She was probably at work right now and couldn't send lengthy texts.

My manager came in to check on me and told me we would be heading to the venue in a hour. I wanted nothing more than to take a nap but another text fron her made me jump in excitement.

I put a couple packets of your favorite ramen in your suitcase so you wouldn't get too homesick. It would be better if you took them out before you crush them.

Smirking at how well my wifey was taking care of me, I bent down, weeding through my clothes. Instead of ramen, I found a red envelope. Curious to see what it was, I took out a handwritten letter.

Hey babe, by now I think you've realized there's no ramen. Sorry for the fib. I just know how you never unpack, so I had to get you to go through your stuff to find this. I know I told you I didn't mind you traveling a lot, and I really don't, but I still miss the hell out of you! We've only been together for a short time but I can't imagine being away from you for too long. Why I didn't tell you all those things when we said our goodbyes you ask? Well, I didn't want to be clingy, or make you worry. I wanted you to enjoy your trip. I know it's mainly work, but I saw how excited you were to do this and I wanted you to have the best time ever! But please remember not too overwork yourself, cause I also know you tend to do that too. I'll be there with you in spirit, so whenever you feel anxious or nervous, imagine I'm right beside you, squeezing your hand reassuringly. Try not to miss me too much, and I promise you I'll do the same. When you come back I'll be waiting for you with your favorite food. Until then, with love. xxx

Wiping a stray tear away, I carefully folded the letter, put it back in its envelope and stuffed it inside my backpack together with my valuables. With trembling hands I called her.

"You know what I want to say, right? I don't want to say it over the phone."

'I know. You'll have countless of opportunities to do so very soon.'

"Okay. Now go back to work!"

I ended the call and let out a frustrated sigh. No matter how emotional I was right now, I was definitely not the right moment to drop the L-word.

[jujurose222]

Best Friends

I say “you” when I’m am talking about him

And God because I met God through him

Gods not dead

He is alive in your eyes

Even when they looked dead

I saw him behind your contacts

I always think about laying

On my sisters couch

When you held my face in your hands

I saw God there

Now I kick my feet in the air

Like a little girl

Whenever I think of it

I shiver and smile to myself

I never care who sees

For if they were to witness

The joy I exude in those moments

They would feel God too

Or the last time you truly kissed me

And put my hair behind my ears

You make feel like a girl

I never got to be a true little girl

I was something different

I do not know what

Yeah a tomboy, oh my god the irony

But truly just strange

You know how every family

Has the weird one

My dad always knew it was me

I knew it was me when

I brought a vintage lunchbox to grade school

Muppets themed

I was so happy I “picked” it

I loved American Pickers

The only person who thought it was cool

Was Mr. James

My physical education teacher

The kids though

They laughed at me like crazy

I used the lunchbox for

I think 2 days

Before I “retired it”

In the words of my father

It was not even weird

It was fucking sick

And one of the first “antiques”

I ever owned

But it is long gone now

I believe that was the third grade

But it was so long

I cannot remember now

Eighth grade I got the coolest

Pink corduroys

I matched them with

A David Bowie shirt

And pink barrettes like always

Middle school I only wore barrettes

Because boys made fun of my bangs

So I had to keep them back some how

Anyways I wore those pants

I was so excited

My teacher

Mrs. Youngman loved them

“I used to have a pair

Just like that when I was your age!”

But the kids again

Genuinely pointed and laughed

Specifically the boy without a daddy

Who would cry to me over FaceTime

But make fun of me at school

“They all laugh at me

Because my dad is gone!”

I would always console him

I was so nice to him

I had a crush on him but

He only talked to me about other girls

I would get so jealous

But I was way too scared to say anything

His best friend was obsessed with me

His bestie was actually my first technical boyfriend

He was so weird like me

I kind of miss him sometimes strangely

Probably because we were weird together

But back to the daddy-less fool

I became obsessed with him

And he would get jealous

When I talked about his best friend

He confused me so much

He did not want to date me

Yet I never told him I liked him

The idea of that scared me

Anyway we ended up hating each other

And we have not spoken since the eighth grade

His best friend on the other hand

Has still admired me

Since then

And told my little cousin

He thinks about me often

I think about him often too

Not in a weird way

But I genuinely care

Even if we were cruel to each other frequently

Now he does try to fuck my cousin

Which I do not necessarily like

But I do not own him

And I cannot control my cousin

Getting fucked over by that buffoon

I never really told him

How I felt anyway

I never told anyone anything

But I cannot let that happen with you

Those days were silly

I am better off without them

But they made me, me

I need you to know I love you

Which is very brave for me

I never would have told a boy

I admired him

I was scared they would laugh at me

Like my father always did

Like the boys in school always did

Like any old man I have ever met

Ever did

I always wonder why boys were mean to me

But I was fucking evil too

Me and Maresa

Made so many of them cry

Just by making fun of them

It was so evil but it always felt good

Because they were so mean to everyone else

All the time

High school I refused

To talk to any of the boys at my school

Until I met a couple of jackasses

Who me and Harmony would

Sneak out with at night

Do not get me started on them

[silentanomaly]

Sometimes people tell me I'm a nice person, or tell me good things about myself of that nature, and even though I've heard it so many times, many times I end up just fumbling my words and saying something weird.

It most often means something to me to hear that from someone because it's a reminder that I am still me, and I am effectively doing me. I'm literally just being myself, and I don't know. I suppose part of the reason I might go out of my way at times is because the world is so fucking depressing.

I want to make things a tiny bit more pleasant, even if it's only for a small group of people out of billions, for small fleeting moments...this is why I feel like I *have* to tell people nice things at times because if I don't I might as well be dead. That's dramatic. No one's holding a gun to my head. I just live for being able to have positive impacts to stimulate good chemicals for people, I guess. If I have a bit of care for someone, I don't want them to be sad. Even if they aren't sad, it can't hurt to highlight something nice when an opportunity presents itself.

I've actually kicked myself many times in reflecting on moments where I could have done or said something, or simply just been nicer, or not as bothered about something. There are people who I've come across, and while I did nothing to hinder them, I did see that something was wrong..and I'd thought to say hello to them, to sit with them through whatever was happening for them to be troubled, and I hesitated because I didn't know them, and they didn't me. We were strangers. Yet we were familiar with each other in passing and sharing the same spaces here and there, maybe exchanging words or sharing a small moment. I can't blame myself for this. But, some of them have taken their own lives. I wish I'd said hello. I wish I'd warmed their hearts a little. I wish I'd known to address their stress so they might not have felt alone.

So yea...I probably weird people out. When I was a kid, most people - especially girls and women - were all SUPER nice to me. Always had good things to say to me about me, and I didn't understand it or where it was coming from. Lots of crushes, lots of adoration, lots of attention that just flocked to me. I didn't get it. Just a dumb kid, yet to make connections about social cues and recognize that I'm not just an ant with zero impact or consequence on my environment (even an ant can have an impact). But, whatever it was I was doing (whatever manner of person I was at the time), it made them smile, and they wanted to tell me about that and appreciate me. I was beloved.

I wish I understood it better at the time so I could have been even better for all of them. A "if I knew then what I know now" scenario. Anyway, I say that in good faith. It's not to gain anything - it's to give back for all the sweetness and kind treatments and just making me feel safe and comfortable. I really didn't understand. So many times someone'd do something for me or say something to me, and all I could think to say was "thank you." But, I really truly meant it every single time. I rarely forgot my manners, and they weren't just manners. It was genuine gratitude for their grace upon my being, and I was just too dumb to think of something nice to say back. Sometimes, there wasn't always something nice I could do. But, to say something...there's always something!

So, in recognizing how the world is to women..and how I was raised, I just really want give back in trying to let ladies know that they are sweet, they are dear, they are cherishable, they are precious, they are powerful, they're so smart, and that they have such a positive impact on the world (even if it's just having a special bond with a cat, or baking a magnificent pie, or writing some neat fanfiction, list goes on). I want them to see that others can see the good in them, and the good things they have going for them.

So anyway, I'm not out here trying to be weird. I'm just doing what feels right for me, and perhaps for others. There's never any expectation for return on any of what I do or say. But, it's so lovely when it happens, and I'm thankful for the reminders that I'm still very much myself, like when I was a kid that was able to make so many people smile or maybe at least feel a grain of goodness. I really was beloved, and it was an honour I will never forget.

[monstersofsilence]

my school life from 1st to 8th grade... had its ups and down

1st - 3rd was when I learned thd concept of bullying. because I was the recepient of said bullying. why? idk. I'm fat, quiet, kept to myself because I'm shy. probably an easy target

I do remember getting beaten up after school. got kicked in the stomach really badly

flunked 3rd grade because I think said 3rd grade teacher probably didn't like me so I redid 3rd grade. also accidentally called that same 3rd grade teacher my mom (idk why considering I never had for my 1st and 2nd grade teachers)

actually made friends in 4th grade. had a mental breakdown due to dealing with my dad leaving the family because he cheated with another woman

oh yeah, got called a fat old man by a girl who I despised despite her being relatively new. seriously. I hated her. I am not a hateful person. but she was a bitch. that was the only person that I TRUTHFULLY hated. I don't remember her name cause I didn't know her nor her name, I'm pretty sure, but she continued to mess with me. though I guess luckily enough she eventually never show up for school too often for school. rumors I overheard is that she doesn't see eye to eye with her parents and ran away a couple of times. idk

and from 7th to 8th grade I gained friends and had a crush on a girl who was nice to me. during the banquet I attended, before I graduated 8th grade, there was going to be dancing. I am just saying this now. I don't like dancing. therefore I didn't want to participate in it but the teachers there kept telling me to go up and join everyone. I kept refusing and eventually my buds took me to the washroom, talked me into just joining them even if it was standing around. even reassuring that my crush wasn't there for me to possibly had the chance to ask her for a dance. I think part of me wanted that and at the same time not wanted it. because I still don't like dancing and am not good at it. still. it was actually nice of them to have my back

yeah

like I said. it had its ups and downs. but it turned out okay at the very end

then high school exists and that'a just uhhhhhhhbhbb

it was not great .w.

boring and basically lonely. I had one moment during lunch of a girl coming up to me, saying hi, shook my hand, I said hi very confusingly, and she went back to her table group of friends. I had one moment of friendship dueing my Senior year but that ended quickly

[galactic-pirates]

5 29 40 for the ask meme

Yay! 😍😍😍 thank you so so much for the ask 🤗😁🎉

Ok buckle up full disclosure despite it having been at least around a 6 year mission so far I still have not seen all of Trek. My status in summary:

TOS: about mid season 1 I think

TNG: mid season 4

VOY: mid season 5

DS9: end of season 3

ENT: completed

Disco: up until season 4

PIC: completed

SNW: completed

Prodigy: completed

Lower Decks: I watched 1 episode

TV movies: completed

Kelvin movies: completed

I give this summary because inevitably I will forget something cool that I have seen and then kick myself when I remember, but I definitely won’t list what I haven’t seen. So hopefully that explains any anomalies. So without further ado!

5. Episode plot you wish they had handled differently?

I am going to go with what first popped into my head which is the Voyager episode 4.17 Retrospect. Frothing rage is the best description of how I felt. I was appalled and I get that it can be brushed off as the show being “of it’s time” but I hate that excuse, and the whole “we don’t trust your word we need physical proof, oh we don’t have it so you are wrong and let’s feel sorry for the maybe bad guy” just made me want to hurl. I can’t believe that wasn’t a terrible message back then. I mean tell me the writers room was a boys club without telling me. The whole feeling was just so so gross and I was going to fix it in my “Raffi on Voyager” fic but then I never wrote it.

Presuming we have to keep the ambiguity of “did this actually happen” and Trek is supposed to ask the hard questions, so ok, then bare minimum Seven should have had someone validate her. I don’t mean the Doctor who was creepy, and then made the mess about how bad he felt/his pain. I mean someone that was like “you believe it happened, then I believe it happened, as whether it did or not you feel like it did” because that feeling of violation stayed. Seven should have had support and care for her trauma not told “oh it never happened so feel sorry for this guy as you are the reason he’s dead, we should never have believed you” - I am getting so mad thinking about it.

It can remain a complex situation but the lack of physical proof doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, and making it all about everyone else’s ‘guilt’ just no. I get there has to be a burden of proof because accusations without evidence can be untrue and ruin lives, but ugh it just felt bad. I am sure there is a way to have the complex plot and not feel so icky. I just was so angry and upset for Seven.

29. Favorite and least favorite episodes?

Well I could name a good chunk of SNW as favourites haha. Special shout out to The Elysian Kingdom 😁 but even SNW has its duds. I found 2.05 Charades a chore to get through.

2.01 The 37’s from Voyager is one my mind often returns to as a favourite because dammit Amelia Earhart should have gone on Voyager and become a pilot. Which raises a good point in that unfortunately for a large part of Trek the version in my head is often better than the show… I wanted to watch something of Trek for Star Trek Day and I vacillated between the shows. I was like hmm “Kira and Dax” or “B’elanna and Seven” and then the crushing ugh that unless I rewatched I couldn’t guarantee they would even have good screentime, probably wouldn’t interact at all, and would never get to act as badass as I believe they are.

There’s the usual suspects on the fave list from Voyager like Year of Hell, Killing Game etc. I already covered one episode of Voyager which makes me rage. There are moments in others. I can’t recall a favourite DS9 episode. With that it’s like most Trek in that my faves don’t get much chance to shine so I have favourite scenes more than episodes.

I am currently trying to push through and watch all of TNG as I know Worf joins DS9 in season 4 and I thought I should at least pretend to watch some things in order. But ugh. TNG is like the characters are familiar and I don’t dislike them, but I am often not compelled. TOS is worse and I think it’s probably maybe a stylistic thing. Part of me wants to watch as I am interested in Trek lore, and there are good moments here and there that I like, but there’s also a big dose of obligation.

I try not to dwell on the negative which I think is why I am not listing a bunch for “least favourite” as I would rather think about what I love. But as I said for Trek (and a lot of other shows to be honest) there is a sense of general disappointment as the version in my head - the potential the amazing characters have - is better than what is on screen. So there’s that.

40. If you got a trek inspired tattoo what would it be?

Hmm. I don’t have tattoos. I am a huge wimp and far too scared. Also they are permanent and I am not sure that I am that passionate about anything, that I will still feel that strong about it in twenty years.

I am trying to give this serious thought. I am tossing quotes round in my head but there’s nothing that comes to mind, nothing that resonates so hard it’s written on my heart (and therefore could be written on my skin).

Maybe just the StarFleet badge. It’s interesting that it’s a shaped triangle (kinda) as on Stargate the home symbol is a triangle with a circle on top. Haha maybe a joint tattoo merging the two. Well no but cool concept.

[brokoala-soup]

tw: mentions of suicide

Damn

You're unsure if that's a crush but just by listening to your anecdote, I can confirm that I have a crush on him (jk).

People like these are totally my type be it as friends or anything else because I'm this sort of person who involuntarily looks into a person's personality as I meet them and I have this weird behaviour of finding people with a dense character interesting. It's because even though every person we meet would have gone through lot of things it's not everybody who displays the true effect of it on themselves. People like these don't hide their layers and that's so interesting it's literally almost like detective work trying to figure out people. I do that a lot; observe random people to scary extents and figure out how they work/their brain works and why it is so. To me, it's like excavating a really valuable site because it is certain you'd find something shocking to say the least there and the joy of hunting behind it is absolutely unexplainable.

This reminds me of one of my middle school classmates. He kinda used to be my bully but I never understood why then. But now that I see it, we were actually way more similar to each other than it met the eye and both of had this electric sense of insecurity around each other that made us hate each other, and him being socially superior (he was more popular and loved by people while I was just a wallflower) led him to bullying me. It looks very simple now- we felt threatened around each other because we had very similar talents and interests back then. I wouldn't have held one serious conversation with that guy but I'd have spent more time tryna (friendly) insult him or even mentally preparing for it. I've always felt we had this sort of mental connection which makes me look like I'm sort of obsessed with him but I'm not. I'm just intrigued about how despite almost being the same person we managed to hate and kick each other out of our lives while it was always normal for similar people to become the best of friends. Things fell apart but after many years now, by hearing it from friends and mutuals, i realised that he too was going through many a things similar to myself. We had our confusions, our burnouts, our desperations and everything else an academically underperforming person feels, hit us around the same time. I rarely feel sadistically good that he went through something similar and that it wasn't just me but I often feel bad we weren't closer because we could've helped each other better than anybody could do us both.

I've tried so hard to explain how this works but nobody IRL understands how my connect with that guy works because everyone knows we have never talked. I feel guilty now because I'm in a better place considering the kind of support I got from my friends and mentors and how my outlook on things changed overtime and even though I'm living a life that seems unfulfilling, I'm happy and he's not. He took his own life recently and it scares me everytime I think of it because things couldve been so much more different now if we ever just gave up on our egos and partnered up for the better.

I know that gets scary, I seem to have strayed off the topic. Coming back, it's like they're a whole ass package when they're both smart and sexy (and yes tall people are really finger licking awesome). I know it sounds kinda toxic but academic assholes are probably the more sexier breeds out there. Personally, I'm someone who loves a sweet challenge and working hard to beat the ass up of someone who you know is worth their salt and actually being successful at it is something I'd 💯 enjoy and would love to do. Trust me it's always way more fun to chew such people out because they too (they would never agree) love being challenged. It sorta awakens that competitive monster in me pushes me to dominate over them.

Damn dude it's been so long since I've felt like that. An academic enemies to lovers is now back on my wishlist thanks to you 😩😩😩😭😭😭

PS: never give me an opportunity to talk because i will blah blah you to death 💀

i thinkni am attracted to people who have such grandiosity in their range of knowledge and just smart in general, such an admirable trait

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Tobias Eaton/Four - I'm Not Going Anywhere

Warnings: Mention of fighting, blood, injury-ish, nightmare/PTSD awakening, trauma(obviously), Caleb (his name is traumatising)

Words: 1k

A/N: Main character takes Tris’ place and Four takes care of the reader after the fight. SHE/HER PRONOUNS

Also hello, I haven't written in a while, I've been busy working just busy in general. I'll try to upload more often.

[Y/N’s POV]

I had just got back from Erudite: after a tough evening in the tower. Caleb wasn’t very interested in helping me: which proves that faction is after all before blood. The only thing that ran through my mind in that moment was the urge to yell at him: even punch him to make his realise that we’re still family, but he does not seem to care.

The silence was loud in the staircase: buzzing through my ears as I walked down to my current faction. MY steps became loud in the narrow hallway. I stopped my track for a second, thinking someone was following me. It was probably late: I was surely imagining things.

My steps led me to the center of the underground passages before someone put their hand on my mouth. Two other pairs of arms lifted me through the air: crushing the nerves in my limbs by their strength. As my boy tried to free itself from their hold, my punches were a success after a few seconds of kicking and struggling to get out. I used all of my strength to prevent myself to fall off the edge. My hand had reached one of the guys that were ripping my own skin off of my body right now.

Al.

His face was the one to make me crack. One of the guys had punched me in the head, almost making me fall off the edge as I gained a boost of aggression to push them off of me. They almost fell off the cliff, which gave me enough time to think this through.

Why would he do this to me?

He’s my friend, is he?

What do they want from me?

Why are they trying to kill me?

Some many questions were running through my head. Two fists were placed in front of my self, waiting for them to come to me. Another one of the boys shot his fist in my face, causing me to fall down of dizziness. Blood was running down my face, especially nose causing it to throb in pain.

I couldn’t fight anymore.

But Dauntless don’t give up, at least they try to.

As if time stopped, I saw the glimpse of Al’s fist coming up only to be stopped another man stepping in. My vision was too blurry to figure out who it was. I could only see bits of action. The three abductors were down and I felt a pair of strong arms lifting me up.

“Are you alright? Can you stand up?” I could barely get words out of my mouth. The only thing that could get out a whisper, filled with pain.

“Four?”

He lifted me in his arms, carrying me out their reach as I felt my soul get out of my body. Then, all was black.

[Four’s POV]

She must have lost consciousness. I carried he back to my room, gently setting her on my bed. Her clothes were ripped from the dicks that went on her.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was her.

Y/N.

Only her.

I’ll deal with them in the morning.

I carefully slipped one of my sweater on top of her body, looking for any other wounds than her face on her.

She was all bruised and bloody. A broken nose including a head trauma. They’ll pay for that.

I took a bowl a clean water and carefully wiped blood from her knuckles, lips and even the trauma on her head.

I set a chair by my bed, not wanting to let her go of my sight.

She looked so vulnerable, I wanted to make her mine: make her safe and keep her close to me at all times.

[Some time later]

I woke up from my watch; it was still night.

She was still lying in the position, breathing deeply but shakily as well. I stood up, feeling her pulse on her soft wrist only for a few seconds. I didn’t know why her pulse was so high. She was sleeping; at least I thought so.

Her head suddenly snapped from one side to another on the pillow. Her arms lifted themselves on the top of her face; as if she was protecting herself poorly. She was whimpering; almost sobbing of pain. A few words could only come out of her mouth

“Stop, please.” I lowered myself to the level of the bed.

I tried placing my hand on her shoulder only to find her jumping awake. My own body moved as fast as hers to sit by the edge of the bed.

“You’re okay. Y/N, you’re safe” She looked lost until her eyes met mine and tears shed out of her eyes. I softly placed my hand on her cheek, carefully wiping her tears with my thumb. She was shaking.

It took all of my self control to not take her in my arms, but it wasn’t enough. I pulled her softly into my embrace, she squeezed me tight against her.

[Y/N’s POV]

Four pressed me against him, God I was so scared. I couldn’t breathe. They were all over me again, hitting me but this time I couldn’t do anything about it. Al, Chris even Will was there. They were all laughing and kicking me as if I were their punching bag.

But he was there now. Keeping me safe from them. “Thank you.” A soft whisper left my mouth, still holding on to him.

He softly took the back of my neck forcing me to face him. “Y/N, I will never, ever let them get close to you ever again. I promise you that. You will never see them again.”

“If they even think about approaching you, I will kick them over the bridge myself.”

A soft smile appeared on my face.

He softly kissed my forehead, holding me back against him.

My head suddenly felt like a tornado and he noticed as fast as I did. “Come on, lie down.”

He looked down sweetly at me.

“You probably got a concussion. Get some rest, love.”

I catched his hand before he got back in his chair. He stared down at me with his soft expression gleaming.

“Please don’t go”

He smiled sweetly.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[a-nonbody]

Replay

Masterlist October / Other Fics

Laxus x gn! reader

Notes: angst (mostly just me experimenting with different topics)

Words: 780

----

It had been a while since I last saw him. And I wish I never saw him again.

It had been a few minutes ago when I was quietly sitting in the guild, drinking and listening to the others talk, all while I sometimes answered or commented.

Great times, those few minutes before that big jerk decided to step in, and everyone fucking greeted him like he never did shit wrong. Like, everyone besides me forgot what he did months before to the guild, to the master, and to me.

Laxus Dreyar. To think that I ever felt anything for that guy is disgusting. Now he was all of the sudden in head over heels for Mirajane. Once a good friend, but always had a sort of crush on him. Even when I was with him.

And with him coming, my happiness went. I quickly finished my drink and tried my best to get out of the guild as quickly as possible. But once I got up a strong hand grabbed my arm calling out my name.

I was quick enough to rip my arm free from the blond's grip and only glared at him in response. I needed time alone, was the only thing I was able to say before finally leaving him standing in the middle of the guild hall.

After a short walk, I ended up near a river with no other person in sight. Sitting down, quietly listening to the nature around me. It was weird to see Fairy Tail opening its arms to almost everyone by now. Maybe something happened while I was gone that made Laxus part of the guild again, but just because people accept him again, does not mean that I have to do so as well. Right?

No. I shouldn't accept him. After all, this is why I ended up like this anyway. This constant replay, this game of love and breaking up. I mean we were young when we first fell in love. I only went to the guild because I had no other way to go and needed to get away from my remaining family. They were not the nicest people to say. So when I meet a person that was nice to me, I almost immediately fell in love. And I finally had a home.

But all good things need a bad ending when it came to my life. We were too young, and fighting too much about every possible thing. The others thought at first that it was hilarious and that we were perfect for each other since we both were known to be hot-headed. But soon those people also noticed that this was not a little hot-headedness, but something more serious.

Soon Laxus was yelling more often than I would respond. And the blue eyes and bruises were becoming more noticeable as well. But we came back together after a break. It was probably the third one. However, it was no use. It all ended after one mission with the Thunder Legion. Most of us got injured, and I was unable to walk. Instead of helping, he left, got the money, and went home. Bix had to carry me home the entire way, while ever tried her best to fix up all our wounds. It was a mess.

And of course, as soon as we stepped into the guild, he was the one asking where we were and what took us so long. So I snapped. I yelled at him, letting out all the anger and hatred I felt at that moment, and cried my eyes out. Luckily he was stunned and smart enough to not snap back at me. He was shocked, looking at me in pity as if he only then noticed what he did to us, and me.

Even though my legs were screaming, and I almost fell with each step, I was determined to get out of that hall all by myself. And I did. I went home and did not come back for a while, which made multiple members come to check on me.

Only after he was kicked out did I come back. I expected some petty or whatever kind of looks and questions, but nothing. Instead of weird looks, I got that pitty looks again. As if they wanted to say sorry for not stepping in months ago.

And now he is back. All those sad looks were long forgotten. But I did not forget. And now I am questioning what to do next. Little did I know that the person I have been thinking about the whole time was standing behind a tree, watching me the entire time.

[erodasfishtacos]

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on. 

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon. 

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!” 

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

**

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

**

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

**

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

**

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.  

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous. 

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

**

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub! 

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

**

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself. 

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him. 

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

**

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed. 

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen. 

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N. 

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny. 

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl. 

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

**

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body. 

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

                                  -- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her. 

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips. 

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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