#sure you don't have much more to think about

[i-am-a-fish]

Sex Ed Time

ok I'm gonna tell you about some things that might happen if you are transitioning m->f. this is not a comprehensive list just my own experience, be sure to do your own research I just really wanted to voice how this affects me because I think open discussion about this type of stuff is just more helpful for everyone rather than keeping it private

BOOBS HURT WHEN THEY GROW

your sex drive (libido) will probably go down a lot

facial hair is very hard to get rid of

my go-to gender affirming clothing is high-waisted jeans. I suggest going to a goodwill or some sort of cheap store that lets you try on clothes to figure out what you like

muscle mass will go down, fat will be redistributed

boobs do all sorts of crazy stuff when you run / exercise

overtime your skin will get softer, you also might smell nicer, and I've been told it can thin body hair but I don't really see it all that much 🤷

your brain chemistry can change when you reduce testosterone and increase estrogen, there are lots of factors that contribute toward any changes to your personality, but hormones can have an impact as well. for me this is a good thing because I struggle with allowing myself to feel emotions sometimes, no matter how hard I tried I was never really able to get myself to cry. I've gotten closer to being able to cry since I started transitioning though and that makes me very happy

this is a slow process that can take several years, ultimately you're going to be in your body for several years regardless, so if this is something you want it's definitely something you should try to pursue if possible. the time will pass anyways, and it does feel nice to work towards something that can make you happier.

also this is very important, you don't need to do any sort of hormone replacement therapy in order to be trans. not everybody can access HRT, and for those who can access it, not everybody wants to take on all the changes that come with treatments. you don't have to chemically or physically change your body in any way in order to deserve respect

all right that's all I have for right now feel free to add anything in the comments, I would especially like to hear from trans men what your experiences have been, I think openly talking about these types of things can really help some people

[lymtw]

It's three in the morning and the sound of your phone vibrating against the bed wakes you from your peaceful slumber. You lazily reach for the blinding light next to you, instantly knowing who's on the other end when you see the blue diamond emoji.

"Hello..."

You were very much asleep, the raspiness in your voice making it that much more evident.

"Hey, sorry to wake you. Are you okay to talk for a bit?"

Satoru sounds like he's wide awake.

"Don't worry about it. What's up?"

You roll onto your side, your phone between your ear and your pillow. If you close your eyes for more than three seconds, you'll fall asleep again.

There's a slight pause between your response and his. Maybe the signal is bad or he didn't hear you.

"Is everything alright, Satoru?"

"I can't sleep."

He responds quickly this time. His tone didn't change. He didn't sound like he was in distress or too worried about the fact.

"Oh. Uh... have you tried drinking some chamomile tea? I personally don't like it, but when I need to rest, I suck it up and force myself to drink a cup."

He chuckles on the line. You always do what is best for you, even if it's not something you particularly enjoy.

"I think i'm just missing you a lot. Can I come over?"

It was strange to think he hadn't tried a tea remedy for his inability to sleep, but who were you to tell him that? Sleep deprivation does things to people.

"Right now? It's a little late, don't you think?"

You blink slowly, trying to adjust your blurry vision in the dark.

"I promise I won't fall asleep behind the wheel. I really want to see you. Please say yes."

You shut your eyes tightly and open them, your vision clearing up a little. When have you ever said 'no' to him? He always manages to change your mind when you do.

You sigh.

"Okay. You have the spare key to my apartment. I'm going back to sleep."

"I'll be there in like fifteen minutes. Love you, bye!"

You can hear the joy in his tone. He was genuinely so uncomfortable being alone with himself, that he had to wake you up so late at night to invade your space.

–

You knocked out again, once you hung up the phone. You were in such deep sleep that you didn't even notice when Satoru got to your apartment, or when he entered your room.

You did feel the bed weigh down when he laid down next to you, and your nose couldn't ignore his sweet, sweet scent.

"Baby," he whispered. His hand went up to your face, caressing your delicate, peaceful features. "I'm here."

"Okay, now go to sleep," you mumble, your eyes still closed.

"Come here." He effortlessly turns you over and pulls you close, lifting your leg over his hip. He scatters kisses all over your face, making sure to elongate duration of the ones he leaves on your lips.

"Baby," he coos. "Come on, kiss me back."

He's like a dog—constantly begging for your attention. The thought makes you crack a smile, one Satoru does not miss.

"I know you're awake." He smiles, putting your leg back in place, before rolling over until he's on top you.

"Fucking hell, 'toru," you break, cracking up at how he had no remorse after crushing your body.

"There's my pretty baby. I'm so glad you're awake now."

"It's your fault," you grumble.

"If wanting to love you is a crime, then throw me in the slammer and toss the key." His nose dove into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "You're just so pretty, and you're all mine."

His affection was starting to evolve into more than lovey dovey kisses. His lips stung every time they met your delicate neck. His hands were roaming beneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He loved the way your breathing quickened. It had him chasing more of the reactions associated with the hummed melodies.

"You are mine, right?" He knows the answer, but hearing you say it from time to time always makes him happy. His icy blue eyes can read your response before you even form it. He loves flustering you with eye contact tied with touches that burned with desire. To top it all off, he loves teasing you to see the way you scramble your response. "It's okay if you're not." He smirks, catching the way your eyes widened the slightest bit. "That's subject to change, isn't it?" He eggs on.

"I'm yours, Satoru. I belong to you," you say, making it crystal clear to him. "All yours." With this, he wouldn't doubt it again until the next time he wasn't with you.

"Yeah? You know, I would've done anything to hear those words from you." He leans down to kiss you, a spike of arousal hitting him when you bit his lip and sucked on it.

"Oh... you can't do that. I will put a baby in you." He has never said anything so seriously.

"I dare you to put a baby in me," you say, teasingly. You know he won't do it. He's not ready to share you yet.

"Keep acting like that and I will."

His lips ghost the column of your neck, trailing down your chest and lower to your abdomen. Your oversized gown of t-shirt was the only thing standing between your body and his eyes. He pulled it up and off with a little help from you, tossing aside after.

You were a little nervous about what was running through Satoru's head. He was devouring you with just his eyes and already you felt so flustered.

"God, don't ogle me like that, 'toru." You put your hands over your breasts—a makeshift bra to cover what he was staring at.

"Let me see you, baby," he pries, gently. He puts his hands on yours, not pulling them away as to not make you do anything you don't want to do. You end up moving your hands on your own, but turn away, unable to hold his gaze when he's watching you that way.

He cups your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples, instantly making them pebble. He could feel the way you tried to press your thighs together, your relief disturbed by his body wedged between your legs. You tried your hardest to remain composed, but his fingers wouldn't let up. His eyes were glued to your face, watching intently until you let out a shaky breath.

"Mhm..." he hummed, grinning at your bashful attempt to stay quiet. "I know this is driving you crazy."

"Shut... up."

"If it isn't, why can I feel you rubbing up against my stomach."

You stop and your cunt throbs at the suddenness of it.

"Just let it out and we can move on. Let me hear that pretty little ah-"

"Fuck," you whimper, interrupting his instructive moan. Your back arches slightly off the mattress, your hands flying to grip his wrists, tightly.

"Good girl," he praises, his fingers letting off your tortured peaks. Little butterfly kisses are placed between your breasts, trailing down to your stomach, where he spends so much time eliciting giggles from you.

His fingers hook around the elastic band of your shorts and panties, pulling them both down in one swoop.

"I didn't know kissing turned you on so much," he says, eyeing the glossy remnants left in your underwear.

"'toru..." you whine, feeling somewhat embarrassed about the amount of arousal you feel at the simplest touches from him.

"What? I'm not complaining one bit. It's cute."

He slides two fingers between your folds, easily collecting your sweetness. You jolt at the sudden contact, looking at him with doe eyes.

"Oh, baby. I don't deprive you of my touch that much, do I?"

You shake your head as he continues to collect your nectar, his fingers dipping in slightly to fully coat his fingertips.

"My sensitive princess." He smiles, softly. "How many times do you wanna cum?"

He never asks you this, always just giving you everything he can give or what you can take. You go for a small number, not wanting to seem excessively needy.

"Maybe two times? Please?" Your voice sounds meek. Like you're asking him for the impossible.

Satoru just chuckles. "How 'bout we triple that number?"

–

"S-Satoru—fuck— just like that, like that!" Your head pushes back against the pillow, your hands beside your head, scrunching up the sheets.

This was the fourth orgasm. There was cum spotted over your inner thighs and sweat layered over both your bodies. He had driven you to insanity like he planned.

"More, baby?" He grunts, thrusting with his continuous pace.

"Please," you cry out, fresh tears welling in your eyes again.

Satoru loved watching the tears stream down your face because he got to lean down and kiss them away. He takes the opportunity to praise you— to tell you how good you're being for him.

Your back arched and you braced yourself for the intensity of your next orgasm. Satoru swallowed your moans, kissing you fervently through his own rush. His breathing stuttered when he felt your nails clawing at his back, and once again his cum spurted into you. His breathing was heavy through the nose due to his insistence of kissing you until he you patted him for air.

"Fuck," you muttered. You let out an out of breath laugh, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to even out your breathing.

"That's five, baby." He exhales sharply, leaning back and running a hand through his dampened locks. You look at him with twinkling eyes, a smirk being thrown in your direction from your admiration.

"Come here," you say, outstretching your arms towards him. Satoru immediately fills the vacancy, sighing when you rake your nails against the nape of his neck. "Want you to take your time with this last one."

He takes that as a green light to start up again. He guides his cock into you again, savoring the hum that leaves you when he stuffs you again and begins his slow rhythm.

"'toru?" Your voice sounded sultry to his ears.

"Hm?"

"This won't happen again. I hope you know that." You're trying your hardest not laugh or make any sounds that take from the meaning of what you're saying.

He had to raise his head to meet your gaze. Something in the way he looked at you made you believe that this would definitely happen again.

"I hope it does. I love having you under me."

"It's inconvenient. It's so late, 'toru. Why can't we fuck when i'm not trying to sleep? Like in the daytime, or earlier in the night?"

His lips trace your jawline, and you just know he's going for your neck. Satoru lives for pointing out the marks he left on you, the day after.

"Simple," he hums. "I want you to myself." His hips continue to rock into you at the same languid pace. "At night, nobody is gonna take you from me. You won't be distracted and I get all your attention to myself." He kisses your neck. "You're all mine at night. Nobody expects you to be awake."

You gasp when he hits a spot that aches deliciously.

"Come on, baby. Give it to me," he murmurs into your neck. You can feel the way his back ripples as he instinctively picks up the pace. He was overwhelming, thrusting deeper and deeper like he was trying to consume you. What was supposed to be a slow drive towards your final orgasm of the night, turned into him unapologetically using his stamina to lure everything he could out of you. He was almost too much with the way his mouth was ruthless towards your neck and the bruising grip he kept on your hips. You were rendered the smallest thing for him.

"Satoru," you moaned, mindlessly grabbing onto his shoulder blades.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." He kisses you, tenderly, heavily contrasting the savage speed of thrusts.

You whimpered into the lip lock. Your heels dug into the mattress and your toes curled from the intensity of the pleasure you felt. Your breathing became heavier but Satoru refused to unlink his lips from yours. He couldn't when the sounds you made tasted like heaven on his tongue. His own sounds mingled with yours, a harmony that let you know that you weren't the only one feeling good. He was rutting into you, a telltale sign that he was about to cum.

"Mmm..." he hums, before unlatching his lips from yours. He panted as he watched you unravel beneath him, the smallest pinch between your brows as you gushed on him again. The way your walls spasmed around him had him following right after, another load painting your walls.

He grinned at you devilishly, the expression followed by a bright and sunny, airy chuckle. He pulls out of you, and looks down to watch your combined fluids slowly ooze out of you.

"Damn, you really tried putting a baby in me." You sigh, heavily, immediately regaining his attention. "Why do we fuck like this every time?" You rub your eyes, your sleepiness coming back around.

"I'll get one in there someday." He rubs his palm over your stomach. "And also, it's always like that because I love the face you make when you cum and you love the process of giving me that sight." His eye conveyed a seductiveness to their expression that kept you in check.

Your face goes red, warm to the touch. "Shut up." You sit up and playfully shove him.

"I get to cover you in semipermanent kisses, too." His hand comes up to the side of your neck and his fingers trace the red smudges that will darken over time. You roll your eyes, yet still put your hand over his, bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"We should shower. It's almost five in the morning." You ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes and the way he's obviously trying to suppress a boyish grin.

"Carry me, please?"

Satoru chuckles, knowing exactly why you want him to carry you.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Just Like His Father

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff, I actually saw this on tiktok and thought it'd be cute to make sth out of it

You were in the kitchen finishing making dinner when your husband returned from a business meeting.

"Hey, love" Lewis greeted you as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey, baby" You smiled as he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you leaving a kiss on your cheek. "You tired?"

"No, but I am starving." He sighed. "What's for dinner?"

"Curry chicken and rice. It'll be ready in a minute, you can sit at the table"

"Oh, yes, please.." He groaned. "Where's Marlo?"

"He should be in his room doing his homework. The young gentleman didn't have lunch today so he has to eat dinner" You chuckled remembering the talk you had with your son earlier today. Marlo was 5 years old and in preschool. He was the smartest, most lovable, but also unintentionally the funniest kid ever.

"Marlo, daddy's home!" You shouted. "Wash your hands and come sit at the table"

"Why were you laughing when you said he didn't have lunch today?" Lewis asked curiously.

"Oh you just wait till you hear it from him" You giggled taking the dish and walking with it over to the table.

When Marlo washed his hands, he ran into the kitchen extending his arms towards Lewis. "Daddy!" He screamed with joy seeing him.

"Buddy" Lewis softened, picking him up in his arms and hugging him tightly. "I missed you. Did you have a good day at school?" He asked.

"Yup" Marlo nodded.

"Tell daddy what happened at school today" You said trying to refrain from laughing so that Marlo doesn't think you're making fun of him.

"What happened at school?" Lewis was still confused. "Did someone mess with you? Did someone touch you? Y/n?" He was already visibly upset and paternal protective instincts kicked in within seconds.

"No, no-"

"Mom did.." Marlo blurted out and his gaze shifted to you. “Mom messed with me..”

"What do you mean?"

"Marlo, did you eat your lunch at school today?" You asked crossing your arms and leaning your elbows onto the table waiting for his response.

"I didn't actually" He said turning to Lewis.

"And why is that?" Lewis asked.

"Because my girlfriend was sat right across from me and you put a note that said I love you babe" Marlo explained pointing his finger at you.

Lewis paused for a second, blinking a couple of times before bursting into laughter. "Your girlfriend, buddy? You have a girlfriend?"

"I'm not sure if I still have one after today" He sighed.

"Oh, your girlfriend didn't like mom's note?"

"No! She got mad!"

You chuckled again remembering how upset he was about it earlier today when he first told you the story. You felt bad for him, but you couldn't help but laugh at the kid stuff that was concerning him.

"And what did you do after that?" Lewis listened intently as you put food on the plates for both of them.

"Nothing, I explained to her that she's married to my dad and I said that my dad is Lewis Hamilton."

"You hear how beautifully he emphasized that my husband is none other than Lewis Hamilton" You joked as Lewis held his head laughing.

"What? I didn't say anything wrong?" Marlo shrugged his shoulders. Love problems were clearly too much for the young man.

"Baby, no girl will ever love you as much as your mom loves you, remember that." You stood up from your chair and walked over to him placing his small face between your hands and kissing his forehead.

"Well, she doesn't have to know that!" Marlo defended.

"Okay, okay. No more notes in lunch boxes just so that your girlfriend doesn't feel like I'm a threat to her apparently" You playfully rolled your eyes going back to your seat. "Now, please start eating your dinner"

"But I still don't understand, regardless of the note, why didn't you eat your lunch?" Lewis asked him.

"Because I wanted to prove her how much I loved her." He sighed before continuing "Dad once told me how he proves his love for you by eating everything you cook even though sometimes he may not like it, but he eats everything because he loves you. I just did the opposite."

Your and Lewis' hearts melted when you hear him say it. You were so proud of your little boy who was too young to know what love was but he learned it so well from his daddy. you knew that one day he would make some girl the happiest girl in the world, just like his father made you and continues to do so day after day.

After dinner was over, both you and Lewis wanted to get Marlo ready for bed. After you gave him a shower and Lewis helped him brush his teeth, you read him a bedtime story and cuddled him before saying goodnight. You also made pinky promises that there would be no more "embarrassing" notes from mom in the lunchbox, and that Marlo would eat his lunch every day.

After that you and Lewis decided to relax on the couch in front of the TV in each other's arms.

"If one day we have a daughter and she comes to me at the age of 5 and says she has a boyfriend, I swear, I will lose my mind" Lewis said jokingly even though you knew he meant it.

"Yeah, we'll homeschool her so she doesn't have any contact with the boys" You said sarcastically rolling your eyes at him.

"Exactly! That's a great idea actually!" He seemed to love it of course.

"Oh stop it!"

"As you told our son today, so I will tell our daughter, no man in her life will ever love her more than me. That's a fact. I already love her."

"Baby, we don't even have a daughter...yet"

"Then I better get to work, no?" He smirked rolling you over and nuzzling his head into your neck making you giggle.

"Well, you better, Lewis Hamilton."

[soapskneebrace]

This truly is the last thing I want to say on this blog and then I'm done, but given how the fucking catastrophe started it's only appropriate this is how I end it—

You have racist bias whether you like it or not. Particularly if you are US American, racism was baked into your worldview no matter what kind of household, liberal or conservative, you grew up in. Racism is quite often far more covert than it is overt. It is not just a voluntary behavior; it is more often the subconscious ways you organize and hierarchize other cultures and people.

In the case of Gaz—sure, you might actively believe that he deserves to be more included. You think he's a good character and people really should think about him more! But you personally headcanon him a certain way, and really it's not a headcanon you're actually all that into, so that's why you don't talk about him as much. It's not because he's black, it's because he doesn't fit the thing you like talking about the most. The fact that he's black is really just a coincidence, you're not excluding him because of that. In fact, you're sure other people like him for exactly the reason you're not all that into him, and you'll just leave it to them to pick up the slack. Or you'll get to him later! In fact, you have some ideas for him. You just haven't gotten around to them yet.

Take that and multiply it by thousands of white women in fandom—not just this fandom, not just Gaz's character, but every fandom and every character of color. It doesn't matter that there's no active malice behind not personally liking black characters and other characters of color. Non-white characters still take a backseat to their white counterparts, because white women in fandom cannot wrap their heads around black, brown, indigenous, and Asian characters as complex, complicated characters worthy of their interest or frankly, their desire.

They cannot wrap their heads around this because they were conditioned not to by decades of racist culture.

Case in point; plenty of white women in this fandom have fallen head over heels for Makarov and Graves. The sins of these out-and-out villains are totally forgiven by virtue of their sex appeal, and because they are portrayed by attractive, charismatic men who put a lot of passion behind their performances.

But can we say the same for Hadir? Can we say the same for Hassan?

The sins of these two Middle Eastern characters do not outweigh those of their villainous white counterparts, yet how many angsty fix-it fics have been written exploring Hadir's complicated relationship with violence and imperialism? How many enemies-to-lovers or even lovers-to-enemies fics have been written about Hassan, the face of whose homeland has been irrevocably marred by US interference?

No one who points out the racism of this trend is accusing these white women of active, militant white supremacy. I'm not saying any of you even have to like Gaz, Hadir, or Hassan. But your preferences have been tuned for you by a culture shaped by slavery, imperialism, and white supremacy. That is not something you can escape merely because you support the BLM movement or reblog vetted Palestinian gofundmes.

The only way you can truly fight your own racism is to be actively anti-racist. It is about far more than who you give money to or what graphics you pin on your instagram. It is an everyday practice of learning how racism has shaped your worldview for you.

This is not work that is done in a week, a month, or a year. Becoming anti-racist takes as much time as it took to make you racist in the first place. For some of you, the work may turn out to be easy. For others, it may be hard. You must do it either way.

Some good places to start:

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Ain't I a Woman? by bell hooks

We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity by bell hooks

A Burst of Light by Audre Lorde

The Body Is Not An Apology by Sonya Renee Taylor

Fearing the Black Body by Sabrina Strings

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi

Being Palestinian edited by Yasir Suleiman

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

[skys-archive]

I think in honor of pride month and also in general forever we should stop trying fit queer people into the identities we think they should call themselves.

And I know no one is going to see this because no one ever does but I'm going to talk about it anyway because this is important.

Bisexual doesn't mean you don't date trans people, it doesn't mean you like men and women, it doesn't mean you can't have a preference. Someone can identify as polysexual or bisexual or omnisexual and have no preference and you don't get to say that that means they're pansexual. Because no, if they don't identify as pansexual then they're not pansexual.

Transmasc doesn't mean you use he/him pronouns. It doesn't mean you identify as a man. Transfem doesn't mean you use she/her pronouns. It doesn't mean you identify as a woman. You can be nonbinary or genderqueer or agender or any gender that isn't binary and not use they/them pronouns. You can use any of those labels and still identify as a man or a woman. You can use different pronouns than is typically used for your birth sex and not consider yourself transgender. People can be gender non conforming and not he trans. People can be trans and not gender non conforming.

A trans man can be fem. A trans woman can be masc. Nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny. Intersex people don't owe you androgyny. Intersex people are people, they deserve way more attention than a way to one up transphobes. Intersex people face discrimination and body altering surgeries without their consent and then are only ever talked about to say "some cis women have penises" or "some people have an extra x chromosome" and then we never talk about the struggle they face as part of the queer community.

Asexuality and aromanticism is a spectrum. Some aces like sex, some aces are repulsed, some aces only experience sexual attraction to one person or once in their life, some aces need a deep emotional bond, some aces their attraction changes. Some aros change identities. Some aros are repulsed by romance unless it's a fictional character. Some aros have romantic feelings until they get to know someone. Some aros crave a romantic relationship but never have romantic feelings. You don't get to say someone isn't asexual or aromantic enough.

Asexuality and aromanticism is having a unique relationship with romance or sexual feelings and impulses. Someone who is transgender has a unique experience with gender. You don't get to decide that they don't have a unique experience. But guess what? You don't get to decide if they do either. Someone can have a unique experience and still not identify as asexual aromantic or transgender. You can cross dress and still fully feel like a man. You can use he/him pronouns as a cis women. You can have trauma around sex and not identify as asexual. You can never have a romantic relationship and not identify as aromantic.

You can have "contradicting" labels. I don't know as many of these because I don't personally identify as any but please fell welcome to add in reblogs. There are trans men lesbians and gay women. There are sex loving asexuals. I know there are others I just genuinely am not educated enough.

YOU DONT GET TO CHOOSE SOMEONES LABELS

ANYONE CAN EITHER IDENTIFY OR NOT IDENTIFY AS QUEER

Please feel welcome to add anything in reblogs. I'm sure there's things I've missed. I haven't talked about neopronouns I haven't talked enough about "contradicting" labels. I haven't talked about queer platonic relationships or kink or polyamory or enough about intersex people or pronouns vs gender. There's so much important things but at the end of the day it's just so important to not choose other people's labels.

[aperrywilliams]

My Lover Boy (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Request: "Can you write something super angsty, like the reader and Spencer have something going on, but technically, they're just friends, and then everything with Lila Archer happens? She's sad but tries not to show it to him, and he is mad at himself for getting with Lila. Derek is teasing him, and it's super angsty, but it all ends up okay."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: You think something is going on with Spencer, something beyond friendship. But you start to question it when a case in LA pushes Spencer to spend time with Lila Archer.

Word Count: 4.6k

TW: Angst with a happy ending. Use of some strong words. Some suggestive comments. Mention of having sex. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Thanks for the request! Keep sending them to me.

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"Hey, did you get something?" You ask Spencer when he returns to the precinct. He and Gideon were at a gallery open to obtain information for the case you are working on in LA.

Spencer shrugs. "Not really. They all were more interested in photos and the press."

"Celebrities," you huff playfully, and Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Something like that," Spencer agrees.

"I'm going to grab some coffee. Do you want some?" You offer, standing from where you were checking the case folders.

"Sure," Spencer accepts, sitting and grabbing a folder for himself to inspect. You pass by him and squeeze his shoulders in a gentle gesture, subtly kissing his head.

"I'll be right back," you murmur before leaving the room.

Things with Spencer have been kind of odd for a while. Sure, you still are coworkers and friends, but ultimately, it is like you both are getting to terms with the idea that something else is going on. You don't know what it is really, and neither of you has sat to talk about it.

Why? Lack of time, maybe? Fear of being misreading the signals? Both?

Whatever it is, you have been acting like nothing is happening, although you almost kissed after a bar outing two weeks ago. You would have if Morgan hadn't called Spencer when you were about to kiss outside your apartment.

After the interruption, neither of you brought up the topic again.

Now you are stuck in LA, trying to solve a case involving celebrity killings. So, of course, the media and the locals have been nailing your asses for answers.

There is no time for anything else but to try to catch the unsub as soon as possible. Hotch asked you to narrow the unsub comfort zone. It's a task that's usually assigned to Spencer, but Hotch has him tracking information from one of the possible unsub's targets: Lila Archer, an actress with a promising career ahead.

"Pretty boy now has the best assignment in this case," Derek sighs as he slumps into one of the chairs in the meeting room.

Elle and you scoff at his dramatics. Morgan points an accusing finger at you.

"If you have seen her, I'm sure you would agree with me."

Neither of you pays too much attention to Derek's tantrum and keeps working instead.

It's almost night, and when Hotch returns to the precinct with Gideon and no Spencer in sight, you raise an eyebrow.

"Where is the genius?" Elle asks.

"With Miss Archer. We need to keep an eye on her, and Reid has the rapport already," Hotch explains before asking for your progress in the task you were assigned.

How does Spencer suddenly become a bodyguard? You don't know, but don't question it. You assume Hotch knows what he's doing.

An hour later, Garcia calls, saying the cameras at Lila's property show a strange person wandering around. The fact Spencer is not answering his phone makes everyone flock out of the police station, and all of you think the unsub is trying to get into the house.

What if the unsub is already inside and hurt Spencer? Shit, you are a nervous wreck, although you try to mask it to the rest of the team.

When arriving at the house, Hotch split everyone: Morgan and Elle are assigned to the front. Hotch and you take the backyard. Gideon, with the patrols, canvass the main street.

As you approach, your heart beats faster and faster. With your gun aimed, you're ready for anything but the fact you hear laughing coming from the pool.

You are covering Hotch's back, and he is as confused as you after opening the gate.

You both see Lila getting out of the pool in a fit of laughs and Spencer, entirely clothed, inside the pool.

"Are you okay, Miss Archer?" Hotch asks, holstering his gun and checking the surroundings with his gaze.

"Oh, Agent Hotchner. I didn't know you were coming," she mentions casually, wrapping a towel around her torso.

Realizing danger isn't imminent, you holster your gun, too, and reach a hand to help Spencer.

"What the hell happened?" You ask him as you take in his drenched clothes and wet gun resting at the edge of the pool. Spencer doesn't look at you, only mumbling, "I fell."

Well, weird but not implausible, considering Spencer isn't the best-coordinated man in the world.

You help him, grabbing a towel from a chair and handing it to him. You take his gun and remove the bullets from the soaked chamber.

You want to know more about the whole situation, but before you have the chance to ask Spencer, you see Derek, Elle, and Gideon coming.

Finally, the alert came from a paparazzi who was around the house and wanted to take photographs of Lila. And regarding the pool? Lila said that she wanted a dip, and unfortunately, Dr. Reid tripped and fell.

No one says anything about it, but the looks Elle and Derek give Spencer catch your attention, as does the way Spencer avoids talking to you until you are called to return to the precinct.

Despite the incident, Lila insists Spencer stay as you continue investigating the evidence.

So you all come back to the station, minus Spencer.

You don't know why Elle instructs you to check the camera roll recovered from the paparazzi, but there you are, in a dark room, revealing what could be pieces of evidence.

What you do not expect is the kind of images that are showing before your eyes: Spencer and Lila Archer making out in the pool.

What-the-fuck?

Now, the scene you found when you arrived at the place with Hotch makes a little more sense. Spencer was entirely soaked while Lila, with a smug expression, walked into the house with a towel around her torso.

You don't know what reaction comes first. But you can recognize the deception and the way your heart shatters into a million pieces.

They were kissing. In the pool. At night. Like nothing is happening around them.

You have been working your ass to catch an unsub, and the doctor is enjoying himself with a movie star. In addition, they lied about the whole ordeal.

The tears pool in your eyes, but you are fighting not to let them fall. Not here. Not for Spencer. Not for anyone.

Why bother, anyway? You are just friends.

What? Will you ask him for an explanation?

It's not your place, even if you thought something was going on between you both.

How stupid you are. You don't stand a chance with him. Spencer only sees you as friend material.

With the entire film revealed, you shove the photos into a manila folder and leave the dark room.

Elle raises an eyebrow when she spots you walking toward her. You throw the folder over the table.

"Here's what you asked me for," you say in a harsh tone before turning around and walking out of the precinct. Elle doesn't say anything and doesn't need to open the folder to know what's going on.

When the team moves to Lila's house again a few hours later, already knowing who the unsub is, you stay behind in connection to Garcia to coordinate at the police station. You don't need to be there again.

You won't get exposed to see Spencer and Lila together.

Early in the morning, with the killer in custody and Lila Archer safe, you are ready to come back to Virginia.

During the flight, you seclude yourself in the farthest seat, headphones on and eyes closed. It works. No one disturbs you.

But you fail to notice Spencer's eyes on you the entire time.

After touching down, Hotch gathers you in the office to do the debriefing when you only want to go home.

Spencer tries to talk to you a few times, but you slip away from him every time, using whatever excuse not to speak.

Finally, Hotch officially closes the case and sends you home with two days off. Without saying goodbye to anyone, and with your heart broken, you run out of the BAU.

------------

Spencer looks for you when he exits the conference room, but you're already gone. His guts tell him something happened to you, and he is worried. Usually, you're open to talking to him, and with this thing going on between you both, Spencer doesn't know how to ask you about it. But even if he wants to do that, he needs to have you in the same room first.

And that will only happen once you are back at the BAU in two days.

He thinks maybe he should go to your place but refrains from the idea. Perhaps you're just tired, and he doesn't want to make it worse.

He doesn't know you sulked in your apartment the entire time, and when you all return to work two days later, you are not still talking to him.

Spencer trails behind you like a lost puppy. He tries to make some conversation with you every chance he gets, but you avoid him like the plague. Spencer still doesn't know why you're acting so cold with him, so he goes to someone who might know: Elle.

Spencer walks to her desk, ready to get some kind of answers.

"What is it, Reid?" Elle asks without looking at him. Spencer clears his throat.

"Do you know if something happened to her?" he questions, referring to you. Elle rolls her eyes in annoyance before lifting her gaze to him.

"Are you kidding me right now, Reid?"

Spencer frowns in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Huffing, Elle digs through the stack of folders on her desk, pulls out the one with the photos you developed, and passes it on to Spencer.

"Serve yourself, genius."

Spencer proceeds to check what is inside, and his cheeks immediately start to burn.

"She - she saw these?" Spencer stutters. Elle pulls a face.

"If she saw these? She developed the camera roll and gave these to me."

Spencer wants to die. It makes perfect sense, but that means he screwed it up.

"Why did she do that?! I mean, no one else could have done it?"

"I asked her to," Elle says, folding her arms over her chest.

"Why did you do that?!" Spencer squeals.

It doesn't matter why, but he still can't believe you saw everything. Spencer knows it was wrong to kiss Lila back, but for him, it didn't mean anything. His heart already belongs to you, even if he hasn't told you yet.

"What did I know that she would find out photos of you and Lila sucking each other's faces? I thought there were only pictures of Miss Startlet swimming and you stupidly falling into the pool. Isn't that you told me happened?"

Spencer Reid has rarely been left speechless, but this is one of them. A mixture of shame, regret, and anger at himself makes his stomach churn, and he wants to dig a hole to disappear.

He needs to explain to you what happened. But how could he approach the subject? You and Spencer are friends in the first place, and he didn't tell you what really happened in that pool. You had to see it for yourself in those pictures.

And thinking about your 'situationship' makes it even worse.

Spencer leaves Elle's desk, thinking about what to say and looking for the best moment to talk to you. But luck isn't by his side: in mid-morning, Hotch announced there is a case.

At least it's local this time.

In the afternoon, he spots you walking alone in one of the hallways. It's now or never, he thinks.

"(Y/N), wait!"

Hearing your name, you reluctantly turn only to see Spencer jogging to catch up with you. You want to turn again and leave, but it won't be subtle if you do that.

"What is it, Spencer? There is something about the case?" You ask flatly. Spencer knows you know it isn't about the case, but he has to assume you don't.

"I - uh. No. It's not the case. I - I just want to make sure you are okay?" His voice is wary, and the fidgeting of his hands is a tale-telling that he's nervous.

"I'm okay. I'm great, actually," you say, faking cheerfulness. Your patience runs thin, and Spencer isn't helping.

He frowns, knowing what you are doing.

"Don't be like that. I really wanted to make sure you are okay," he mumbles shyly. You cross your arms over your chest—a defiant look in your eyes.

"And why I wouldn't, uh? Something bad happened to me? There is a single reason why I shouldn't be okay?"

Spencer contemplates his response for a second. How does he say it in a way that does not sound self-centered?

"I don't know. You haven't talked to me since the last case in LA."

Spencer opts to bring up the obvious and let the overwhelming evidence out of this for now.

"And that bothers you?" You ask in a disbelief tone.

Spencer knows this isn't working.

Damn to his inability to lead meaningful interactions when he needs to.

"Yes! I mean, we - we're friends. You can tell me if something is going on."

The friend card. Spencer thinks it's the safest approach. But he's wrong. You laugh humorlessly.

"Honestly, Spencer? I don't know if we are friends anymore."

Your tone tries to be cold, but behind it, there is a tiny wavering you try to suppress at all costs.

"What? Why are you saying that?"

That's the limit Spencer reaches and pushes you to snap.

"Because friends don't lie to each other! When I asked you what happened at Lila's house, you lied to me!"

Spencer gulps because he knows you are right.

That is what he needed to say first, and not have to wait until you were who threw it at him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, gazing at his feet.

And then again, the guilt, the embarrassment.

Why did he do it? He isn't attracted to Lila. Why did he kiss her back?

"Yeah, me too. But you know? I'm glad. I'm glad you finally found someone and that now I know where I stand."

It hurts you to say the words. Spencer can see the crack in your demeanor, and he is the one to blame.

"What? No! No, I'm not- I didn't find someone," he chimes in an attempt to clear this up. "It's not what you think."

"Isn't? I saw the pictures, Spencer. I developed them myself. I know what I saw."

"She kissed me!" Spencer exclaims, trying to get afloat because he feels he's drowning.

"So what? If that's the case, you kissed her back!" You spat, angry at the lame explanation coming from Spencer's mouth.

"It was a mistake! I shouldn't have done that! You have to believe me."

Spencer tries to take hold of your hand, but you don't let him, yanking your arm and keeping your distance from him.

"Why do you think it's a mistake? Uh? She's pretty, almost famous, she's into you. I don't think it is," you start, and Spencer frowns. "What I can't understand is why you didn't tell me the truth before I could find out from those goddamn photos. What did you expect? That I would criticize you? What would bother me about your love adventures in Hollywood? You said it yourself: we're just friends."

"(Y/N), please," Spencer tries to get to you but is to no avail.

"It's your fucking life, Spencer. Do what you want with it! But let me out of it."

Without another word, you storm out to who knows where but far away from him.

Spencer knows he fucked up big this time. And his attempt at apology made things only worse.

He didn't see you for the rest of the case. Spencer assumed you secluded yourself in Garcia's office.

From his spot at his desk, he can only see Elle's disapproving look.

There is no reasonable reason for what he did, and that consumes Spencer's brain. He doesn't like Lila. He has been pining for you long enough to be sure he loves you.

'Men are men,' Elle usually says when Derek brags about his conquests. Spencer always felt proud of not being that way. And what happens when a pretty actress jumps at him? He goes with it. Elle is right, then. He is like any other man.

The question is if he will do something to gain your trust - and affection - back. How can he fix this?

------------

A whole week has passed since the case in LA. The BAU looks pretty much the same as always, if not for the fact you only talk to Spencer when it is strictly necessary. The team doesn't pick up much of it, though. Only Elle knows what's going on, but she won't pester you with questions or unrequited advice.

Spencer is doing nothing extra to call your attention, although you can feel his eyes on you sometimes during the day. But you assume he got your message, and he'll go on with his life.

The problem is you can't bring yourself to do the same. You know your chances with Spencer are a past thing, but your heart still doesn't get the memo. And you try, really try to be neutral, professional, and collected. It works in the majority because nobody asks questions or refers to what happened in LA.

But the state of 'everything is fine' in you is fragile, and you know that.

It's Friday afternoon, and everyone wants to end their reports to go finally home. You see Spencer from the corner of your eyes. He is deep-writing in what you assume are the details from the last case. Elle is doing the same. You are trying to focus on your work, but the tiredness makes you go slower than you want.

Suddenly, the glass doors open to reveal a grinning Derek Morgan walking straight to Spencer's desk with something under his arm. It looks like a newspaper.

"Hey, lover boy!" Derek claps Spencer's back with a shit-eaten smirk plastered on his face. Spencer looks up at Derek with a frown. "Don't look at me like that Casanova. You are the one who didn't tell me about your little something with Miss Starlet."

Morgan places a newspaper he's carrying on Reid's desk. The cover is a photo of him making out with Lila Archer.

"W- what?" Spencer stutters as his cheeks redden. His eyes quickly move from the newspaper to find yours, and you only want to disappear. Averting his gaze, you try to focus again on the file you are reading. Elle rolls her eyes from her desk.

"My man! You slept with her that night, didn't you?"

"Morgan, stop," Spencer pleads, but Derek doesn't relent, even when the air in the room becomes way thick in instants.

"You can tell me! Is she good? I bet she is-"

"Morgan, no!" Spencer's high-pitched voice tries to make Morgan shut up.

"Come on, give me something pretty boy. She is wild in bed, doesn't she? How many hickeys did she leave on you?"

You actually cringe at Morgan's words. The sole idea of Lila and Spencer sleeping together makes you sick to your stomach.

You're about seconds to stand and get out.

Elle, who is observing the whole scenario - thing Derek doesn't - huffs in irritation.

"Why don't you and lover boy go to spill your gut about your sex life out of here? We are trying to work if you didn't notice."

Morgan frowns. Usually, Elle backs up his teasing to Spencer. But when he is about to say something again, you're - not so subtly - grabbing your things and storming out from the bullpen.

Your collected attitude goes out of the window.

All of them be damned, you think.

Spencer is standing right away to chase after you, leaving Morgan with a confused look, silently asking Elle what the hell just happened.

"I am only going to say that you are a total asshole, Derek Morgan," Elle states before returning to her files.

Meanwhile, you're pressing the elevator button, and you can feel Spencer rapidly nearing you.

“(Y/N)! Please, wait!"

When he's by your side, you intentionally look to another way.

"Not now, Spencer. Just let me go."

Just let me go. That statement has more meaning than the explicit one you're voicing.

"Morgan is only messing with me. I didn't sleep with her."

Spencer thinks blurting the truth will be enough to stop you from running away from him. But things are already more complicated than that.

"It doesn't matter, Spencer. Now, let me go."

Your insistence is more like an agonizing plea. You're so tired. There is no fight you want to engage in right now. You think you won this time when the elevator doors open, but it's short-lived as you see Spencer stepping inside as well.

"No! It does matter!"

The elevator doors close, and now only are you and him.

"Why? Uh? Why is it so important for you to tell me this?"

Your sudden raised voice takes Spencer aback. You're pissed off.

"Because - because it is the truth!" He defends.

And maybe he's right. Perhaps he didn't sleep with Lila, but your heart is already broken, and you only need space to get used to the idea and heal.

"Spencer. I already told you you don't owe me an explanation. Truth or not, it is not my business anyway."

Your tone is not angry but deflated, exhausted. Your gaze drops to the floor.

Spencer wants to scream; there is so much in his chest to say, but his brain doesn't cooperate in spilling something coherent.

"But I want it to be!" He decides to say, and he gets you to look at him again.

"What? are you talking about?"

"I want it - I want it to be your business," Spencer repeats, and you don't know what to say; you don't even know what he means.

The elevator dings and the door opens. You both stand there for a second, frozen after what looks like a confession. Or not. You're not sure.

"You don't know what you are saying," you mumble, deciding to move and pass him to walk into the parking garage.

"I know I should have said this before," Spencer continues walking after you. "I know I should have said something that night when we almost kissed. I regret I didn't."

You stop when he mentions that night. At this point, you thought he didn't care, and it didn't mean anything to him.

"Nothing happened that night," you say bitterly.

"But it should have. Don't tell me you didn't feel it," Spencer poses a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning away again. Your eyes fill with tears, but you're fighting not to let them fall.

"And what if I did? It doesn't change anything," you shrug, a painful look in your eyes.

"It does! Because I love you and I do really want to make it up to you. I want you back. I want to amend the hurt I caused you for my stupidity."

Did he say 'I love you'? That takes you aback.

"Spencer-"

"I know I messed up. I know it was stupid to kiss Lila back. It doesn't matter if she did it first or not; you're right. But believe me, it didn't mean anything to me because she was not you. She is not you and will never be."

"You're confusing things," you shake your head, still not giving credit to his confession.

"After our fight the other day, I really thought about stepping back and leaving you alone. I have been torturing myself all week trying to conceive a life without you on it, mourning the lost of our friendship, and above all, mourning the lost of the prospect of to be your person, and you to be mine."

You can't keep your tears at bay anymore, so you let them free. Spencer cups your cheeks, and you can see tears in his eyes, too.

"But I can't. I can't let you go. Not without telling you the truth. And if you don't feel the same, that's okay; I won't push any further, and I'll leave you alone."

You can't tell him that you don't feel the same way because that would be the biggest lie in the universe. You are also sure that you love him, and that is why this situation has broken you so much.

You blink away some of your tears as Spencer looks at you, trying to read the truth in you.

"I think I have been in love with you since ever," you blurt out, with a half sob and half chuckle. "And I felt so heartbroken seeing you kissing her, and now Derek comes suggesting-" you trail off.

"Hey, don't think about that. I messed up, and I didn't say anything earlier because, to me, it didn't mean anything. I'm so sorry," Spencer apologizes, running his thumbs under your eyes to wipe some of your tears.

"How can - how can we start over?" you ask him shyly but hopefully. Spencer hastens to reply.

"The way you want it. If you want time to think, or if you want us to go slow, we can do that. If you wish to, can we go on a date first? Officially, a date? We can do that," Spencer rambles, and you smile for real for the first time in weeks.

"Yeah, we can go on a date, officially a date," you concede, and Spencer can't contain his excitement. "But, can I ask you for something first?"

"Of course. Just name it," Spencer says as his hands rub your shoulders lovingly.

"Can you kiss me now?" You request, with the most faked innocent look you can muster, making Spencer laugh.

"I can do that," he nods, looking at you intensely, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. Then Spencer leans down, closing his eyes at midway. You wait with batted breath until finally, his lips softly touch yours.

It's a tentative, sweet kiss. Your arms go up Spencer's shoulders until they land on his neck. His hands fall to your hips to pull you closer as the kiss deepens. It's no longer exploratory; it's hungry, messy, passionate, and you couldn't have wanted it any other way. You're sure this kiss is a thousand times better than the one he had with Lila, and Spencer completely agrees with that assessment because it's you.

That makes it perfect.

It's the need for air that makes you part after a while.

"Wow," you both say at the same time, starting to laugh like teenagers and trying to catch your breath.

When the laugh subsides, you narrow your eyes in contemplation and Spencer's eyebrow furrow.

"What?" he asks, and you look at him—a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"We agreed to a date first, right?" you ask, and Spencer nods.

"What if we skip that and make up for the lost time? What do you say, my lover boy?" you suggest, with a playful smirk on your face. Spencer's cheeks flush, but he is definitively excited with the idea. He quickly grabs your hand and runs with you to your car.

There is a lot to make it up, he agrees.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[plutoasteroids]

PAC How Will Your Future Spouse's Father (Your Father-In-Law) Feel About You.

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: This reading is solely for entertainment purposes only! I am not responsible for any decisions taken based on my readings.

This is a general reading so if nothing resonates don't take it to heart. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

ASK BOX is always open

TW: MENTION OF NEGLECT AND ABUS3. IF ITS A TRIGGER FOR YOU AND YOU CONTINUE TO READ ANYWAY PLEASE DON'T BLAME ME ITS YOUR CHOICE!

PILE 1

Your father-in-law would view you as something new and different, you may be the complete opposite of the general type of your FS normally goes for but in a good way because I feel your FS doesn't necessarily have the best track record when it comes to picking their partners. Your father-in-law will quickly approve of you it feels almost like they'll say to your FS 'you made a good choice'.

But at the very beginning they may feel a bit unsure about you specifically because of the way you carry yourself, you could be really shy and not talkative or super confident anyways they just won't be 100% sure about you more so because he doesn't have a clear grasp on your personality or even your intention.

Them being unsure will quickly change and the two of you may have a relationship based on understanding or similar values or opinions. You'll have some sort of mutual understanding that will bring you both closer, in the long run they'll for sure view you as their child maybe even as somewhat of a friend.

Your Father-in-law gives me scholar vibes if not heavy lawyer vibes, lawyer, professor, teacher maybe even a priest.

PILE 2

They will feel somewhat withdrawn from you. I don't think your future father-in-law is involved in your FS' life, as in they are around but they never took an active role, so they won't have much of an opinion on you. It seems like they might see you from a distance like maybe through social media.

But from what they know about you they feel like you're very passionate and enthusiastic about life in general because your life will be pretty well. They feel like you have your life together and they like that.

But there is some sadness here mainly relating to the fact that their child found their life partner and are moving on with life and they can't be a part of that. They might do some introspection to try change and get better, they may even try to slowly enter yours and your FS lives.

It feels like they may have been a dead-beat dad for some of you and for other just emotionally unavailable and maybe slightly abus!ve.

PILE 3

Your father-in-law it seems like they may be aware of your existence in their child's life, but they aren't aware of how significant you are but finding out about your significance in your FS life might be somewhat of a pleasant surprise to him.

He will have a positive opinion on you, feeling like you bring some balance and happiness to your future spouse, and it feels like he won't be too active in your life and that of your fs. Like not absent but giving you two space to be your own people and your own couple, but he'll be there when you need advice, or you need someone to talk to.

I think you may give him a fresh perspective on life, and he'll certainly appreciate your views and your opinions. He seems to eb more on the unconventional side.

Random information: He may pay for your wedding (if you want to get married) just because he wants to and it would make him happy to pitch in financially.

He may not be married to your FS' mother. Like he is married to your FS' stepmother, or their partner isn't the biological parent of your FS. I also get the vibe of it being maybe a same sex marriage.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― if you think i'm pretty 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚

― the ways in which they lay their hands on you and can't stop thinking about it ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, quite suggestive (all characters are aged up!!!!), a lot of touching, making out, both reader and characters are needy and down bad for each other what can i say a/n: inspired by if you think i'm pretty by artemas and baby by madison beer, as you can see, i was very inspired for some of them compared to others so don't mind the difference in length djkajdwd

gojo satoru can't help but have his hands on you at all times. it's a genuine problem. some might even call it a disease or affliction, a deadly illness if you want to go that far.

whatever it is, he doesn't think he wants to find a cure for it. not when he can so easily coax out those wonderful sounds from you with the brush of his fingertips, those noises that are reserved just for him even though you try and deny it, and especially not when you decide you want to try and turn the tables on him.

that's how he finds himself underneath you on the floor of an abandoned office, his wrists pinned above his head as a devilish smirk graces his features. you're hovering above him, one hand locking his troublesome hands in place while the other is pressed against the cold floor to support your stance. right now, he's thinking about how this might be one of his favourite angles to look at you from.

he knows you're trying to tease him back, testing his patience and will to resist like he does with you, in a sort of punishment for his wandering hands but he can't even hide how much he's visibly enjoying this moment. it annoys you, deeply. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, shifting your weight onto your knees to free up your other hand so you can run it down from his neck and stopping just right where his belt sits which earns you a breathy gasp from him.

you smile to yourself, clearly pleased at your own doing. but you don't have long to celebrate your victory as it seems you've underestimated how thin his patience runs when it comes to you. in an instance and in one fell swoop, you're flipped onto your back as satoru is now the one caging you against the floor. your faces are barely inches from each other when he leans in, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he whispers,

"it's my turn now."

geto suguru thinks apologies are useless. in most cases, he rather you show him instead.

to him, words often get in the way of many things and even more so when emotions come into the mix, scrambling them up to the point where they are nothing more than regurgitated word vomit. he's a firm believer in the phrase, actions speak louder than words, and he's definitely not shy about carrying out said belief in his daily life.

why tell you how much he wants you when he can simply show you through how his hand never seems to leave your waist even in the most crowded of places and how his lips seem to find yours in an instance as if he's worried that they might miss his company even if just for a second.

the same goes for you. why tell him how sorry you are when you can just show him? and so you do, caressing his jaw with your fingertips while your lips roam the expanses of his neck and collarbones, making it their sole mission to map out and commit each curve and mark to memory. every kiss you place is an apology in its own way and it makes the both of you forget what you two were even in arms over anyway.

"satisfied yet, sugu?" you murmur against his skin, the sound of your voice sending tiny vibrations that grants you a pleased hum from him.

too bad for you, it turns out that he's tough to please, or rather just tough to fully satiate his seemingly insatiable appetite for you.

"not yet. actually, far from it."

kento nanami is pretty sure that you're trying to punish him for something he did.

maybe it was because he didn't tell you what was truly on his mind when he came home from work last night in fear or burdening you with worries or maybe it was because he didn't touch you then, even though he knew that you were looking too good for no one to be touching you like they should.

but whatever it is, he knows that whatever you are doing, it's dangerous.

you two were in public, wide out in the open. he could feel his breath hitch in his throat as you nudge your heel against him, dragging lazy lines up and down his leg and stopping just right next to his upper thigh before disappearing again underneath the cover of the table. as usual, you offer him no visible reaction that could possible give away your true intentions to him, just a ghost of a coy smile on your lips.

was this fun for you? to test his resolve as a gentleman, drawing it thinner and thinner into a taught line ready to snap at any second? or did you just want to see first-hand what it would be like to see come undone from your actions alone. knowing you, it would probably be the latter but he could never know for sure as it seemed that he would inexplicably always play into your hand.

with each lingering touch wherever you could get your hands on and each teasing glance at his necktie, as if you were already trying to undress him with your eyes, he had never wanted to throw caution and any ounce of public decency he still had at this point and return the favour to you.

god, you were going to be the death of him.

fushiguro megumi thinks that you're a handful and isn't shy about making it known to you.

it doesn't help him at all, of course, only earning him a sly grin from you as you continue with your wandering touches and teasing kisses, lingering on certain areas such as right under his jaw where you know you can elicit a low breathy groan from him. he tries to hide his reaction in an attempt to not give you more fuel to continue but he fails every time with his body betraying him as the tips of his ears seem to grow impossibly redder and he even finds himself subconsciously leaning into your touch.

in response to his words, all you say is, "hmm maybe, but that's what hands are for." as if to prove your point, you entangle one of his hands with yours, pulling it closer towards you and placing it right in the middle of your chest like you were inviting him to do some of his own exploration himself. he avoids your gaze, knowing the moment he made eye contact he would be done for and whatever was holding him back now would shrivel into nothing in an instant.

you giggle softly to yourself, showcasing your obvious amusement at how much he's trying to prove that he's stronger than this. you lean in closer towards him, your faces barely centimetres apart as you murmur, "and last time i checked, i'm pretty sure you have two of them."

that's when he makes his fatal mistake, looking down to see your plump lips just a breath away from his and noticing how your eyelashes flutter softly as you, in turn, look up at him through them. he can imagine your body on his lips and that's all that it takes him to use his free hand and to close the distance between you two as your lips crash against each other.

screw this, he doesn't want to wait anymore.

okkotsu yuuta is obsessed with you to the point where to others, it could be seen as concerning. thankfully for the both of you, he's never been much to care for other's opinions.

it doesn't matter if you manage to kill him, whether intentionally or unintentionally, because no matter what, he'll just come back more obsessed with you. a fact that he so clearly demonstrates whenever you're around him.

"p-please," he mumbles against your lips, his fingers tightening their grip around your cheek, "don't go." his voice is shaky with a tinge of desperation and his pupils are so enlarged with his unquenchable thirst and desire for you that you've lost track of the whites of his eyes. to him, even parting for a breath of air when it comes to you is a painful act that causes his heart to ache and swell.

yuta's never been much of a sweet tooth but he thinks you taste like the sweetest candy that could ever exist and it's as if you're covered in a layer of sugarcoating he wants to be the only person who has the privilege of being able to lick it off with his own lips. your hand snakes its way up his arm and around his neck, pulling him tighter into your grasp and he takes this as his cue to dive back into your lips.

at this point, he's no better than an addict with how much he's greedily devouring you with his mouth, wholeheartedly consuming you with every fibre of his being as his tongue desperately awaits to explore more of you and see if this is the only place that you taste sweet. all good things in this world cost something and you're no exception but whatever the price is, he doesn't care because he'll pay for it.

hopefully, he's planning to repay it now in his own sort of way.

[ssahotchnerr]

hi my love!! how are you?🩷

i saw your requests are open and i wanted to ask for more jealous!aaron if you’re up for it! maybe one of the girls (probably jj or penelope) set up reader on a date and they are talking about it on the jet ride home from a case. she’s not too sure about it but wants to give it a chance…rossi and derek are hyping her up too maybe! and our man aaron is just watching thinking he’s lost his chance but little does he know she’s only going to try and get him out of her mind.

wishful thinking

these kinda plots >>> 💓 cw; bau!reader, sooo much mutual pining (they're both idiots), a touch of jealous!aaron, slight angst wc; 1k

You weren't being too subtle.

As the others were settling down, getting situated for the ride home, your priorities laid elsewhere; admiring Aaron and the handsome, beautiful, handsome features he possessed.

The way his cowlicks were tousled gently over his forehead, just begging to swept back. His chiseled jawline, one your hand yearned to span across. His enviously long eyelashes. His lips-

Penelope suddenly sitting next to you pulled you from your trance, causing you to jump. It had been one of those rare instances she was needed in the field, offering her specialities on sight rather than stationed back in Quantico.

The expression she bared was rather eager, complete with a pair of googly eyes.

You laughed shakily, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks - hoping your longing stare hadn't actually gone noticed, "May I help you?"

"So," Her grin widened, "are you excited!?"

You grimaced slightly as your mood instantly deflated. You uneasily crossed a leg over the other, "I don't know."

"Excited for what?" Morgan inputted from above; headphones in hand, twirling the headband in a circle around his index finger.

You offered a sigh in response, so Penelope took the initiative to answer for you.

"You know James Cameron? From Homeland Security?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's expressed quite the interest in our fellow crime fighter." Penelope's excited grin turned back towards yourself, also nudging you with an elbow. "And so I've honorably claimed the role of Cupid and someone," More wistful eyes pointed at you, "has a date Saturday night."

"He's a catch." JJ expressed enthusiastically, dramatizing a swoon as she sat across from the two of you. "Tall, dark, handsome."

"I can vouch I've heard nothing but good things about him." Morgan teasingly ruffled the hair on the top of your head, "Way to go kid."

You offered a meek smile, squirming ever so slightly in your seat. It took everything in you to not let your gaze drift back elsewhere. "Thanks but... I'm not so sure I want to go."

"What's not to be sure about? He's smokin', successful. It'll be good for you, too. When's the last time you put yourself out there?" JJ pointed out, arching an eyebrow in emphasis.

You shrugged, your chin landing in your palm.

Clearly you couldn't go into the specifics; the truth being you had your eyes on someone else. A particular boss you all shared, sitting just a few feet away.

The whole dating scene, you've been hesitant due to said feelings. The only reason you had truly considered going out - was to get Aaron out of your mind. You've spent countless, sleepless nights thinking about him, picking apart every little interaction; the way he looked at you after you had a breakthrough at a profile, admirable enough to make you want to burst at the seams. Walking alongside him, hands centimeters apart, softly grazing his skin. The concern he showed following an unfortunate brawl with an unsub - he had almost reached out to cradle your face. But, all of which could have been entirely figments of your imagination. Wishful thinking.

But regardless, they had given you the slightest amount of hope. Which is why you waited, but you couldn't do so forever; the probability of you and him - highly unlikely.

You had two choices; to continue holding out for the impossible, or to pursue the realistic.

You peered over at Aaron, consumed entirely by the file in his lap. It didn't appear he was paying attention, and that stung. All things considered.

The truth is, he was, and disliking every single bit of it. While it looked as if he were working, he was merely scribbling on a scrap piece of paper, enough to wear it down and produce a hole; silently brooding and anxiously waiting to hear where the conversation went. The more it carried on, however, the more jealousy burned in the middle of his chest. The two of you were close, you understood him like no one else, but that itself was the issue.

He feared if you got too close, if you really, really knew him, he would damage you somehow. Or worse, you'd end up similarly to Haley - unsatisfied and yearning to leave him behind. And so, he had refrained from being proactive.

In addition, right now, part of him didn't know what hurt more; the fact you were going on a date with someone who wasn't him, or the fact that you hadn't mentioned it.

"I say go for it." Dave offered, "Trust me. I am an expert, after all."

Emily bust out laughing, "Okay."

"What do you think?" You asked over their laughter, your voice detrimentally small. "Hotch?"

Aaron's head lifted, his eyes immediately latching onto yours. It kept circling in his head; You missed your chance. You're missing your chance.

Despite the ongoing internal conflict, one he could resolve in a few simple words, he panicked.

"I don't see a reason not to." He rushed out, your heart plummeting into your stomach at his words. "Of course, don't do anything you're not comfortable with. But there's no harm in seeing if there's a connection."

Even as he spoke, he didn't sound like himself - as if someone else were doing the talking. Extremely feigned, forced. Speaking from his mind rather than his heart.

"Okay," You bit your lip, looking directly at him as you spoke. "I will."

As the others switched topics, your eyes stayed with Aaron's. A silent exchange drifted between the two of you, Spencer's current tangent seemingly miles away. Hurt, betrayal, a touch of something else too.

You exhaled deeply, turning to look out your window.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Did it?

[sanguineterrain]

okay i've had this thought brewing for a while and i think you're the only writer who would do it justice!

reader meets jason again post-lazarus pit and he's amazed by how different reader is look-wise. reader was a teenager the last time they saw jason and now as an adult they've gotten a more "adult" body. reader is curvier, fleshier, no longer as lean as they were as a teen and is a bit self conscious about their body. but it drives jason wild to see his old crush all grown up into this mature body, hell he's changed a lot too. but yeah i feel like jason would be so body positive and full of praise 🩷

decided to combine this with a request i got for this prompt: 8) we share the bed because this is what we’ve done since we were kids, regardless of the adult implications now. i so agree with you anon, i think jason would be simultaneously body positive and absolutely FERAL for his old/current crush ;)

jason todd x gn!plus-sized!reader. reader used to work with the bats and is best friends with jayjay. reader is insecure and speaks poorly about their body. jason does NOT like that and desires you carnally! wahoo! suggestive content but no outright smut.

****

You haven't been in Jason's room in five years.

Alfred's kept it pretty much the same. Same books on the shelves, same Gotham Knights sweatshirt Dick gave Jason for his birthday. The curtains are the same shade of maroon, and the left one has a tear from when you played with a batarang. Jason had covered for you and was grounded for a week.

You flip through a dog-eared copy of The Three Musketeers. A few of the pages have underlining in pencil. You trace them with your finger.

The door creaks open. You look up.

Jason freezes in the threshold. His wrist is bandaged and you can see stitches on his forehead. You frown.

"Hey." You set down the book and go to him, offering your shoulder for him to lean on. "You okay?"

Jason sighs, ignoring your shoulder. "Who called you?"

"What d'you mean? We're psychically linked, Jay-Jay. I sensed that there was trouble afoot in Gotham City."

"Uh-huh. That didn't work when you tried to convince the old man I needed a puppy because you psychically divined that it knew me in a previous life."

"You and that Terrier were soulmates and I'll hear nothing of the contrary."

You take Jason's arm, despite his protests that he can make it two feet to the bed. He lays down, trying to hide how his arm twinges in pain. You frown and slip in beside him.

Jason's a lot bigger than he was the last time you shared a bed. Well. You both are. You roll over so you're facing him, squished against his side. You pull your leg up, suddenly self-conscious about everything Jason might be able to see.

Jason is warm. He's warm and big and solid and good God, you've missed him.

Your best friend is also fucking gorgeous and you really want to kiss him, but, uh. Ignoring that. You're very practiced at ignoring the urge to kiss Jason.

"Thanks for comin'."

The light is still on, casting a soft orange glow across Jason's features. He glances at you, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. You can count all the freckles on his nose, this close.

"I'll always come when you call, Jay," you say. "Well, when Dickie calls. Said you got a concussion."

He turns his head, sighing at the ceiling. "'S not a big deal. Mild concussion. Leslie said I'll be fine in a week, but we all know that's code for two days."

"Yeah, I don't think so. You bats really are birds of a feather."

"How dare you. 'M nothing like those wackos."

"Sure, buddy. Keep lying to yourself. You brought me in all those years ago for a little normalcy."

"My mistake," Jason says.

He gets thwacked with a pillow for that. It fluffs his curls. He grins at you.

You tuck in closer, resting your chin on his uninjured shoulder. Jason turns his head so his cheek rests on the top of your head.

"You can have the bed," he says.

"Don't be a silly goose."

"'M gonna go home anyway."

You scoff. "Not like this, you're not."

"Been worse for wear."

You roll your eyes. "How are you gonna ride your bike with one arm and one leg, genius?"

"Please, babe. The real question is how will I sneak past Alfred?"

"I'm a babe, now?"

Jason half-smiles. "Always were."

"Liar. Can you imagine me in a Batsuit again? Exactly, you can't. I simply don't have the bod for it."

"Hey." Jason reaches down and gently pinches your thigh. "Why ya doin' that?"

"Doing what?"

"Talkin' bad about yourself. Don't do that. 'Sides, it ain't true."

"Jaybird." You level him with a look. "Be serious. I know you're my best friend and you have to say that, but c'mon. I've seen the hotties you work with. Hell, I've seen Bruce and Dickie."

Jason's face twists in disgust. "Do not call my dad and brother hot."

"Okay, fine. I've seen you."

His brows rise. "What?"

"What, what?"

"Are you... callin' me..."

You snort. "Duh. Have you seen yourself? You've always been cute, Jason. If you didn't have the demeanor of a honey badger, you'd be fending off marriage proposals left and right from the Gotham public. You've always been the prettier one, Jay-Jay."

Jason's quiet. You keep going.

"Anyway, neon's never been my color, and it seems like that's a pretty immovable requirement these days. Like, I get Clark's trying to be seen from space but he doesn't get bloated. And the Spandex? Goodness gracious—"

"Y'really see yourself like that?"

Jason's staring at you with a wrinkled brow, mouth set.

"Like what?"

"Like you're not pretty? Like I'm too good for ya?"

You prop your head up on your arm. "You've always been too good for me, Jason Todd."

"That's just not true. And you're fuckin' beautiful, so stop sayin' that shit."

You blink. "Jay, c'mon—"

"No. It's true, so stop. You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure to know, and if anybody's gettin' proposed to, it's you."

"Jason." Your face is on fire. Why did you open your mouth? "Stop. It's fine. So I'm different; my body's changed and shit. I'm not an athletic vigilante anymore. My thighs have, like, their own zip code. It's my own fault. I didn't keep up the training and whaa—!"

In one fluid motion, Jason's rolled you onto him. Your legs straddle his waist. You catch yourself on his shoulders, then begin to scramble off, burning with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I'm heavy, you're injured—" you babble, picking up your leg.

"Will you quit?" Jason keeps your leg exactly where it is, tenderly stroking your ankle with his thumb. "Actin' like I'm made of whipped cream."

"You're concussed."

"Mildly."

"Stop, Jason. Please. You don't have to do this to-to prove a point. I get it, I won't talk bad about myself."

Bit hypocritical, considering some of the stuff you know for a fact Jason believes about himself.

But this is humiliating, your extremely attractive, crime-fighting best friend pretending that you haven't totally let yourself go all to bolster your ego.

"Nah, I don't think you get it," Jason says conversationally. His hand creeps under your shirt. You squirm. "I really, really don't think you get how fuckin' gone I am for ya."

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Now, that's my fault, never sayin' anything. I was being cowardly. So lemme make it clear for ya, sweetheart."

His hand leaves your ankle and pulls your face to his. And then Jason kisses you.

"You're concussed," you whimper against his mouth. "Jason, you're—"

Jason laughs, low and sweet. He strokes the side of your face. "I could have amnesia and I wouldn't forget the fact that I've been in love with my best friend since I was fourteen."

"Are you sure you don't want me to move? I can—"

"No way. Y'know how long I've wanted you on me? Shit, I sound like a creep, thinking 'bout you like that, but—"

Jason rolls you both onto your sides. He hefts your leg over his, so you're slotted between each other. Then he kisses your neck, mouth hot and desperate. You gasp, belly swooping.

How long have you wanted this? How long did you believe you'd never feel this way about another person after Jason?

"I can promise you," Jason says, breathing hard against your skin. "You're a knockout. You knock me out. And I'll knock out anyone who says otherwise."

You huff and get a little braver, kissing Jason and returning him onto his back. He grins, sharp and hungry. He wants you. There's no doubt.

"I still think you're concussed," you murmur, letting him feel up your shirt. "But lucky for you, I have the utmost sympathy for poor, bedridden Bats."

Jason hums, grunting when your teeth scrape his ear. "Oh, I've always known I was the lucky one, having you."

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter Part 3

|Notes:Y’all boy getting a little jealous and my man Reggie did his thing💓💓,Things get a little more steamy in part 4😏😏 |Warnings:None |

______________________

Wanting to clear your mind from the previous interaction with Armando, you walk over to Dorn who is scrolling through files on his computer hoping to find something for the situation. Pushing his head playful you asked if he had any luck yet, while stealing a folder to look through. "No, I found a few emails and a file but nothing that could lead us to who is doing this,” he says sighing.  

Giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, you say, "Don't stress yourself to much over this, I'm sure something will pop up eventually.” Turning in his chair he looks up at you, with a boyish grin.

Screwing your eyebrows together you say “What?", setting the file you were going threw down. "Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about how fast you dropped to the ground earlier," pausing to laugh he continues, "that's the fastest I seen you move besides running from bugs." Watching him laugh about the incident from earlier, you smack your lips and push at his head again.  

"You know good and well you would’ve drop like I did too; I’ll be damned if I let a bullet take me out." Seeing him really start to tear up, while laughing, you watch as he holds his stomach doubling over.”Aye, not too much asshole!” you say chuckling a bit at his reaction. Sitting up he grabs your arm trying to regain his previous composure but failing when you give him a deadpan look. 

Continue to watch your friend have his little laughing session, you smile to yourself at his goofiness. As your about to scold him some more, you're abruptly interrupted by Armando who cuts into you and Dorns space. Forcing you two to break apart, to make room for him as he rudely asks Dorn to pull up a photo for him.  

Seeing his jaw flex, he sends you an intense glance, but looks back at the screen as Dorn zooms in on the photo. Glaring at him you say "Well, that was fucking rude, you could’ve asked nicely." Dorn hums in agreement. 

“Lo que sea que digas princesa,(Whatever you say princess)” Armando says brown eyes staying locked on the screen. Pausing you scan over his form trying to figure out why he had an attitude all the sudden. Letting out a gasp, you begin to laugh, realizing that he was jealous of Dorn.  

Glancing behind Armando muscled form to look at Dorn you see him shoot you a look with a smug smile confirming what you're thinking. Shaking your head you move closer, pressing your chest against Armandos toned arms, and whisper, "Don’t worry he’s with Kelly, ". Watching as he turns his face in your direction, pretty brown eyes glancing down at your breast. 

 He firmly whispers back, "I know, he needs to keep it that way." Biting your lip you smile, at his small show of dominance, his gaze returns back to the screen. 

Unconsciously, you stay close to his warm figure, as he leans forward, eyes evaluating the photo before he says “I seen this guy before...... can you do a facial scan." Hearing this Mike, Marcus, and Kelly make their way towards you guys watching each screen as loads of information begins to pop up. 

 "His name is James McGrath, looks like he was a former DEA Agent until he was tortured by the Cartel...... Captain Conrad mentions him a few times on some of his notes.” Pausing Dorn looks up, waiting to see what his superiors might have to say.  

"This has to be him he's the only with connections to the Cartel, it could be why he has been able to pull all these stunts......” pausing in realization Marcus ask if he could pull up the surveillance at his home, looking at your father with surprise you asked why.  

But before he could answer Mike cuts in and say, "Because were the only one that has proof that the Captain is innocent and he needs leverage." glancing at his son Mike pulls out his phone calling his wife. Widening your eyes in shock you quickly run to the couch to grab your phone, immediately dialing your sister.  

Bouncing slightly as you hear the phone ring for the third time, you yell to tell your father that she’s not picking up. Watching your father call Reggie with urgency, you look up to see Armando watching with concern. Hanging up you let out a frustrated sigh returning back to where everyone was viewing the monitors intensely. 

Shaking from nerves you feel Armando brush his hands against yours, staring up at him you see worry in his eyes. Wrapping your hand around his he gives it a light squeeze, trying to calm you down. Just as Dorn alerts everyone that theirs movement outside the home you hear Reggie pick up. As your father explains the situation quickly, Reggie springs into action, moving your mom, nephew, and pregnant sister to the pantry. 

 Watching him reach up to retrieve the gun that's stored in their as well, you watch in amazement as your brother-in-law kick ass.”Damn,I didn’t know he could do that.” your dad mutters shocked. Everyone lets out a few comments in agreement. Watching Reggie causally body 15 attackers, had your blood rushing in adrenaline. After confirming that the house was safe, he quickly moved the family out the house but not before saluting at the camera. 

“Yeah, baby that’s how we do it in the Burnett family! "You say hugging Armando with relief and excitement after what you just witness. Standing in shock Armando moves to embrace you as well, but looks up to see everyone watching you two like a hawk. Clearing his throat, he watches you look up at him confused, nodding his head to the side you see everyone staring. 

Breaking away from him you avoid their gazes sheepishly saying sorry. 

Before anyone could comment Mike asked Dorn to pull up his security footage after not having any success, in reaching his wife. As everyone eyes return back to the screens with concern, you feel Armando wrapping his hand around yours again, lightly running his thumb against it. 

 Mike let's out a sigh as his wife finally picks up, but it’s too late because not even a second later you hear screams and scuffling. Frantically, your eyes search the monitors, watching as men infiltrate Mikes home. 

Glancing away from the screen you look at Mike, who has an uneasy expression washing over his face. Just as he was about to speak, a deep menacing voice cuts in, 

“tss.tss.tss.... I think you have something that belongs to me Mike......” 

[mantou-rin]

The moment the boys realise they are head over heels for you

Characters: Kenma, Sugawara, Yaku

A/N: The amount of things I am able to come up with while at work should be studied. As usual not proofread I am sorry but I hope you like the silly thoughts that go through my head on a daily basis.

KENMA

Kenma couldn't help but look up from his game to stare at you.

You were at the other end of the classroom talking with a few of your classmates. Your voice wasn't exactly loud, but your presence was more than enough to catch his attention. Kenma admired the way you spoke and the way your face lit up everytime someone said something interesting. You weren't exactly an extrovert, but you had a bubbly and bright personality, and often got along well with pretty much anyone. 

Kenma kind of envied you for that. Not that he was the kind to draw attention to himself, but being able to comfortably talk with people sometimes seemed nice. 

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of him looking at you, and you turned to give him a smile while waving towards him. He instantly panicked, and quickly turned his attention back to his game console, trying his best to calm his rapidly beating heart. 

He wasn't sure for the longest time about this feeling he had towards you. Was it fascination or just admiration, or was it something more than that. To him, you seemed so interesting, almost as if he wanted to study - no, get to know you better. His racing heart finally confirmed it as a crush, but how does he even begin to ask you out? 

“Kenma”

He nearly jumped when he heard that familiar voice of yours. Slowly he put down his console and directed his attention to you. You were standing next to his desk, the sunlight hitting your face gave you the prettiest glow he had ever seen. 

It was real, he wanted to get closer to you, he wanted to understand everything about you. 

“There's a new cat cafe that just opened, would you like to go there together? I hope you don't mind that it'll just be the two of us.”

Two of us? Did he hear that correctly? Of course he wouldn't mind, if anything he was more than happy that it was just the two of you.  

“Mhm.” Came his silent reply, to which you happily told him that you’ll message him the details when you get home. 

Turns out that your feelings for him were mutual as well. 

SUGAWARA

Suga was not having a good day right now. He felt he didn't do a great job at practice just now and now he couldn't get rid of the constant worry that his team would be disappointed in him. For the most part, he knew the Karasuno boys would never be upset with him, but what if today it was different. 

Before he left just now, Daichi had already told him to cheer up and not think about it, but he just couldn't help himself. He wished he wasn't the kind to mull over his mistakes over and over, but unfortunately, he wasn't that kind of person. 

He really wanted to call you right now. He often told you how you were his comfort after a long day, and he felt that he really needed you today. He was about to make the call when he realised that you told him that you were going out to run some errands that night. 

Right. It wasn't polite to disturb someone when they were busy.  Suga figured to simply drop you a text instead, the both of you could talk about it later tonight.

Sighing, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked up at the sky. It was so quiet and calm, contrary to whatever his mind was right now - noisy and chaotic. 

“Suga!” He heard someone call from behind him. 

Hang on. That voice was familiar, one that he has heard many times, there was no way it was - 

You.

Suga wasn't sure why he nearly cried when he saw you, heck he wasn't even sure why you suddenly showed up. 

“Sorry if I’m a little late, but I saw your message and figured that I should come right away. Also sorry I couldn't get something better, but I got you some ice cream from the convenience store on the way here.”

Suga panicked a little, he worried that his message to you came off as something that needed immediate attention, that wasn't what he intended for it to be, although now that he saw you the chaos that was in his mind just now seemed to have died down. 

“Eh, I thought you had to run errands? Sorry if I bothered you.” 

“I can always go another day, besides, you having a bad day is something more important than the groceries I have to buy.” 

Suga wasn't aware, but he was sure he let a tear slip out of his eye when he felt your hands reaching towards him to wipe them away. He never noticed because he was always the one doing the comforting, but right now with you next to him assuring him that everything was going to be alright, his mind became a reflection of the night sky - calm and quiet.

“I'll go run your errands with you tomorrow, and will you allow me to bring you out for dinner afterwards?” 

YAKU

Yaku was glad you decided to join the volleyball team as a manager. Even though the two of you were childhood friends (and neighbours), any extra minute he got to spend with you meant a lot to him. 

You were attentive and smart, always promptly taking care of the team’s needs and giving out advice as needed. Your presence alone sometimes helped boost the team’s morale. 

Water was running low? You had already prepared new bottles for the boys long ago before they even noticed they were running out. 

There was a spot on the court that seemed a little slippery? The next thing Yaku knew you were ready to swoop in with the mop to clean it up. 

The team needed extra balls for practice? There was nothing to worry about because you would have a new basket of volleyballs ready by the side.  

You were talking to Yaku halfway after practice when you excused yourself to find the coach for something. Yaku couldn't help but glance over at the extra bag he had seen you carrying around recently. You happened to leave it open, and Yaku caught sight of a pair of knee guards - specifically the ones he was using. Yaku didn't want to peek, but he was too curious as to why you had that in your bag. He pried the bag open slightly and saw a towel as well as a pouch filled with first aid supplies. 

Perhaps you were playing volleyball too? 

When you came back, Yaku asked if you started playing volleyball too, referencing the items he saw in your bag. 

“Ah, no it's just emergency stuff in case you get injured. I've seen you getting many new bruises because of practice so I wanted to be ready just in case.” You replied softly, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you had been found out. 

Yaku felt his heart do about a thousand backflips. He was always under the impression that you cared for each team member equally, but now knowing that you put in a little more effort to look out for him made him somewhat flustered. 

“Ah, thank you.” Was the only thing he could splutter out.

There was a brief silence before he mustered up his courage to speak again.

“Would you like to go get dinner together after practice tomorrow?”

[authorhjk1]

I’ll try my luck in requesting.. Plot is, reader asks SNSD Yoona who is his gf to dominate him femdom style.. I’d want to see kinks like pegging and well.. To be honest body worship especially armpits.. Thanks for reading and if you choose to decline it, all good.. But I really wish to a great writer’s take on this humble request of mine..

Submitting to her

(Lim Yoona X Male Reader)

This is how everyone sees her. Lim Yoona. One of the younger members and the center of Girl's Generation. Most of the time a cute, playful sunshine. But when it comes down to it, she can also be fierce and borderline sexy.

But no one will ever be able to see her, how you see her. That is something no one will ever know.

You met Yoona about a year ago for the first time. You couldn't believe she actually walked into the bar you were working at. It was a very expensive and prestigious one, yes, but you didn't really think of Yoona as big bar goer.

And you were quickly proven right. She was only there, because of one of the two friends she was with, was celebrating her engagement.

The three women were sitting at your bar the whole night, chatting away and drinking more and more of your most expensive liquor. While you were serving them and the other guests as well, the newly engaged woman seemed to have drunk too much. First, she kept on showing off her ring to Yonna and the third woman, but as the night grew longer, she also started to flirt with you.

You thought nothing of it at first, blaming it on the alcohol, but she got more and more into it. You could tell that Yonna was getting a little uncomfortable at her friend's behavior, but she didn't say a word.

"Would you mind mixing me another cocktail, babe?"

Yes, you did mind. And no you didn't like the fact she called you increasingly worse pet names. Blaming the alcohol would have been only a sorry excuse at this point. You could already tell that her future husband would probably catch her cheating at one point. It was so clear it could've been written on her forehead.

Eventually, her and Yoona's other friend went to the bathroom. The rude woman definitely drank too much. And while you were wiping parts of the black granite surface of the counter, you were hoping she wouldn't completely ruin the ladies' room.

You heard Yoona groan, after she took the last sip of her cocktail.

"Would you like a refill, Miss?"

To your surprise, Yoona suddenly glared at you.

"Oh, please, lover boy. Don't pretend like you would say no, if she asked you to spend the night with her."

You felt that was a little out of the blue. But the alcohol and her being annoyed by her friend, probably made her search for some kind of release.

"I would say no."

You would never sleep with another man's girlfriend, wife or whatever.

"Really? Why wouldn't you, huh?"

You suddenly felt trapped. Was that a trick question? Did she want you to mess up, so she could let out all her pend up frustration on you?

"Never mind, I'm sorry."

Yoona cut you off, before you could answer.

"It's just... I'm always too busy, you know? Barely free time, no time for dating, or a boyfriend and especially no time for a husband."

"Another cocktail it is, then."

Yoona chuckled as you started to mix the same cocktail she had before.

"You're really good at that, you know?"

"I hope so, I've been doing this for years."

As you added your finishing touches, Yoona let out another sigh.

"You are still young, so take some advice from me. Make sure you find the right person to be with. Don't wait as long as I have."

"I'm sure there are a lot of good men out there, who would like to go on a date with you, despite your busy schedule."

Since the granite surface was a little bigger, you let her new glass slide over the stone. It came to a hold just in front of her. You leaned over the counter and reached behind her ear.

Yoona slightly backed away, but you pulled back already, holding a small cocktail umbrella in your hand.

"Myself included, of course."

You blew on the umbrella, opening it up, before you let it fall into the drink.

You usually weren't that straight forward with guests. But this wasn't a usual guest. This was Yoona.

"That was smooth."

She playfully wiggled her eyebrows as she acknowledged your skill.

"Like I said, years of work and experience. Once I start something, I only finish once I perfected it."

"I like the sound of that."

Her smile was warm, but at the same time a little seductive. Her eyes sparkling with amusement, but also looking at you as if she was searching for something.

You later asked about that moment.

"I liked you. You looked handsome. And I wanted something she couldn't have."

That was her answer. Almost the perfect way to describe the start of your relationship.

"Although I don't have a man, I do have needs. I don't have enough time to date, but I can definitely make just enough time to take care of those needs."

You were surprised at how hopen she suddenly talked about herself. You were still in a public place.

"I could use someone like you. Dedicated to a task. Not stopping until he is satisfied. I would repay you of course. How much money do you make?"

While you were standing there, totally bamboozled by her sudden offer, you realize you could've seen that coming. Yoona is lonely, doesn't have time for a proper relationship and has more than enough money to find herself a sugar baby.

And for some reason, you did like the sound of that. Her terms were clear. Wherever and whenever she wanted, you would do your best to worship her entire body, make her feel good. But for that, you would have to quit your job.

"Don't worry. I will pay for everything you need."

While you were still debating on saying yes or no, her friends came back. They were eventually done drinking and were about to go home.

Yoona gave you one last look.

Decide right now, or you will regret it for the rest of your life.

You quickly wrote your number on a napkin and gave it to her.

The dynamic in your relationship was clear from the get go. Yoona was literally your sugar mommy and paid for everything, while you were tasked with pleasuring her better than anyone had ever before. Outside of the bedroom, she was the dominant one, but when it was about sex, you were the one who took care of her.

After staying at her place a couple of times, you, unconsciously, slowly started to move in with her. It started with a toothbrush and it ended with your computer and desk in her guest room. Not that Yonna minded at all. The living together and sleeping together, made it impossible to not start developing feelings. And finally, after ten months of sex with no strings attached, you both agreed on your new status of your relationship.

"10 Minute break in twenty minutes. Need you."

A simple text from your now girlfriend and you are on your way.

You enter the SM building slowly after, making your way to one of the smaller rooms on the third floor. As soon as you walk in, Yoona crashes into you. You haven't seen her since this morning. She looks just as good as she did then.

As soon as you saw her outfit this morning, you knew this is gonna be one of those days. She doesn't have them often. But on those days, she sometimes shows you a side of her no one can know about.

Most of the time, the power during sex is equally distributed. Sometimes it's Yoona, who leads, sometimes it's you. But most of the time, the two of you are equals. Yoona isn't the kind of woman who loves to get fucked like a cheap whore. She does enjoy you, being a little rougher with her at times, but never something too crazy.

And on rare occasions, just like today, you can see a fire burn inside of her. A fire that makes her lust and arousal grow immensely. Until now, she always had herself under control. But you do know, that if her self control breaks, you will be the one who will have to bear the consequences.

"Oh, fuck. I need your tongue so bad."

She whispers into your ear, after just having kissed the life out of you.

You lean down and push her hair behind her shoulders, before you start to kiss her naked skin. Yoona loves how you take care of her. How you worship her. To say that she has a praise kink is an understatement. More like goddess kink.

"You taste perfect, mommy."

Yoona purrs, at your words, letting out a satisfied sigh. Yeah, one of those days. You know you are doomed tonight, if you can't satisfy her well enough right now.

And at the same time, you don't mind at all. You actually welcome the idea of Yoona punishing you for doing a bad job. You want to find out what happens, when that fire inside her does take over her being. You are just not sure yet, if you can handle it.

Once you have dutifully peppered her shoulders with endless kisses, you pick her up and carry her towards the window.

"Oh, yes. I'm craving that. Oh, baby I'm so thirsty for your touch."

Yoona always turns into a mess, whenever you start to worship her like this. She loves it. And you do too.

After putting her down on the windowsill, you quickly start to take off her belt. This is just the right height for what you have in mind. Once her suit pants are around her ankles, you reach into her panties. The black lace traps your hand, forcing you towards her pussy.

"That's it, baby. Be a good boy."

Yoona moans in delight as she feels you pushing a finger inside of her. You lick your lips as you see her closing her eyes, ready to bring the second half of your plan to life.

While your left is slowly fingering her wet pussy, your right hand is now reaching for her wrists. Already knowing what you have in mind, Yoona gladly raises her arms. Standing next to her, you are greeted with the magnificent sight of her left armpit.

The slight sweat on her skin sparkles in the sunlight from outside. You unconsciously take a deep breath, enjoying Yoona's scent. After you spend hours after hours worshiping her entire body, you know how she tastes everywhere and how she smells too. Usually sweet, with a hint of sweat, because it's a hot day.

After taking another breath and pushing a second finger inside of her, you stick out your tongue and place it right underneath her armpit. Yoona lets out a deep moan. This combination has always made her cum pretty quick. And you have limited time right now.

The slight salty taste hits your taste buds as you use one long lick to move your tongue across her armpit.

"That's it, baby. Lick your mommy clean."

Yoona moans out loud as she feels your tongue now delivering longs swipes across her armpit. Your fingers in her pussy aren't idle and soon, Yoona succumbs to the pleasure you force onto her.

It takes you a minute or two to complete lick her armpit free of her sweat and just a little longer to reward yourself. The more you can have of her, the better. Yoona's sweat is now replaced by a small amount of your spit.

You change position as you keep your fingers inside her, your thumb now rubbing her clit.

"Hurry, baby. If you don't make me cum..."

Her whispered threat is interrupted by your tongue, finally reaching her armpit on the other side. The saltiness seems to be a little bit more prominent on this side. You gladly lick it all up, while Yoona starts to buck her hips against your hand.

"Damn it!"

She sighs heavier as her breathing becomes faster.

"Make me cum already."

Her heightened arousal makes her a little more aggressive today.

You keep on licking her skin and fingering her pussy. You know that she is slowly getting there. Maybe a couple of licks more. Or maybe a third finger...

"Yoona?"

You stop immediately as you hear someone outside the room. Yoona holds her shakey breath.

"Y-Yeah?"

"We have to get going now."

"Give me a minute, manager-nim!"

Yoona quickly urges you to pull your fingers out of her. As if you wouldn't have thought of that yourself.

"This isn't over."

She looks up at you with that fire in her eyes, once she is done making herself look presentable.

"As soon as I'm home..."

She let's that threat linger in the air as she walks out of the room. Yes, this is one of those days. But today seems more intense than usual. You wonder, if you asked for it, would Yoona let that raging fire consume her? Would she let go off her primal instinct and use your body for her pleasure, without thinking about you?

A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. What do you have to do to make that happen?

You know that Yoona will be busy for the rest of the day. You're sure she mentioned something about a magazine cover photoshoot, but you can't remember. Her schedule is stuffed with way too much events and appointments for you to know all of them.

And that's why she catches you by surprise, when she suddenly crashes through the door to her apartment.

"I have ten minutes."

It looks like she is on a break again. And it seems she came straight from the photoshoot. She is still wearing that outfit.

And you can tell by the fact, that she only came here for sex, that she is close to breaking.

You try to get off the couch you are lying on, but Yoona is quicker. The advantage of her skirt is, that she can just sit down on your face, without having to undress.

Barely ten seconds after she came home and your tongue is already buried inside her wet pussy. Yoona quickly holds onto your hair with both hands. Too impatient for you to find the proper rhythm, she just starts to ride your face. You have no choice but to lie there, enjoying the taste of Yoona's sweet pussy.

A minute passes. Then two. Then three. You do your best, trying to get her off as quick as possible. But that small voice at the back of your head starts to talk. What if...

Yoona breathes heavily and leans forward, trying to catch her breath, as she realizes that this isn't enough. Not enough for her to orgasm. Not enough for her to satisfy her hunger.

She quickly gets off your face, leaving you with trails of her juices all over it. Before you can react, your pants are already off. And a second later, Yoona has already straddled you, her pussy hovering above your cock.

"Oh, damn. That cock."

She sighs, her eyes closing in bliss as she impales herself on your cock. Without even thinking about it, one of her hands move towards your throat. She keeps riding you, her pleasure now increasing by the second. After almost getting caught earlier today, she really needs to find that high right now.

"M-Mommy."

She hears you coughing after calling her. Her eyes shoot open and she realizes that she has been choking you. Yoona quickly moves her hand away, an apologetic look in her eyes. She has never done that before. She never let herself go that far.

"Babe..."

She wants to say sorry, wants to apologize. And yet, a small part of her mind tells her to put her hand back on your throat. To make you cough, while she rides you like a dildo, not giving a damn about your well-being.

It scares Yoona for a moment. Those thoughts. But she can also see that you seem to know, what's going on inside of her.

Her eyes grow wide as you slowly start to nod your head.

No need for words. Yoona takes a deep breath, before she puts her hands back on your throat. For the first time, she starts to let go of herself.

You lie on the couch with wide open eyes. Yoona left barely a minute ago. It's hard for you to get up. You didn't expect her to go that hard. She rode you like her life depended on it. You were barely able to take it yourself, her pace and power were almost too much for you. Reaching for your throat, you grimace in pain. It's not that bad, but you don't need a mirror to know that that's gonna leave bruises.

You are glad you were able to cum, just in time, before Yoona came herself. You wonder if she would've cared about your orgasm at that point. Maybe not. But that thought alone almost makes you reach for your cock, which is still wet with her juices.

The rest of your day goes by without anything major happening. You are excited about what is gonna happen tonight. Despite having climaxed earlier, Yoona still didn't look very satisfied.

Trying to make time go by faster, you sit down in front of your computer, planing on gaming a little, until she comes home.

"Turn it off."

You almost have a heart attack, when you suddenly hear Yoona's voice. You didn't hear her come home.

"H-Hi, babe."

Her tone made it clear, that this day is still not over. The only question is, how rough Yoona is going to be with you.

Once you turn off the computer and look at her properly, you know what kind of sex she has in mind. She is now wearing a different outfit. Probably another one from her photoshoot.

"You look gorgeous."

You can tell she is holding in a smile as she leans down, to be at your eye level.

"I've had a long day..."

You get the hint as you stand up, just to walk her over towards the bed. Knowing you have the rest of the night, you start slowly. First, her hands. You kiss each of her knuckles and the back of her hands. She sighs, as Yoona lies on the bed, enjoying your work.

You soon move upwards, switching from one arm to the other, while you pepper her skin with kisses. It's smoothness takes your breath away every time. How can she be this beautiful?

Reaching her shoulders, you take a short trip to her collarbone, licking along it's length, before returning to her shoulders. Yoona lets out a satisfied hum. But you know that, at least today, this won't satisfy her enough. You move her arms away from her body a little, giving you access to her pits.

"Baby. I need to fuck you."

Yoona sighs, her first words since she told you to take care of her.

You know what she means by that. The fire in her eyes still there. As you dive in, licking her right armpit, you know that she is thinking about something far different from just riding you, like she did earlier today.

Yoona's fire urges her on to take control. To take you. To make you hers. And there's only one way you will truly be hers.

Yoona shifts around a little, while you keep worshipping her body. Once you're finished with licking her armpit clean, you kiss along her collarbone towards the other one, before diving in again.

Her hand finds itself in your hair as she lets out a heavier sigh.

"I need to-to take you. Now."

You realize that Yoona is approaching her breaking point. Should you push further? Ignore her real needs for just a couple of moments longer?

You eventually decide to be forward.

"You can do what you want with me, mommy."

You kiss her armpit one last time, before looking up at her face.

"Please. Be as rough as you want."

This is the only way for her to be happy today. To be satisfied. And you are more than willing to help.

"A-Are you sure?"

You nod your head yes.

"Do with me what you want."

You can see that dangerous fire flicker in her eyes. Yoona's inner voices are fighting each other. Eventually, she pushes you off of her, before she jumps off the bed. You watch her walk towards the big closet. Once she opens it, you can see what's lying on the middle shelf.

Four dildos, lined up and sorted by length. A belt, to make a strap on out of one of them, on their right. You gulp, knowing that there is no turning back now.

It's not like this your first time. Usually, at least one of you is in the mood for it. And you are the one, who decides which one gets used, before you start.

But you are very aware that Yoona is already using the one on the right. She put it on the belt already and is now tying it around her waist. The biggest one.

Her black outfit seems to fit the blue plastic perfectly. You don't choose that one very often. But now you know Yoona's true thoughts. The others aren't big enough for her taste.

"Strip."

She says, before even having turned around.

You hesitate for a moment. It's not that you don't trust her. It's the fact that you don't trust that fire within her. How far will she go...

Yoona's movement quickly makes you jump into action. As she turns around, you're just getting rid off your pants. She steps towards the edge of the bed as you take your shirt off.

Without a word, Yoona stares at you, lust burning in her eyes. She does a come hither motion with a finger, making you crawl towards her.

"Suck my cock, baby. If you don't want to get hurt..."

Yoona only used lube at the beginning. But after having tried this a couple of times, she started to make you suck the dildo first, before pegging you. Your own spit being the lubricant. That should've been a sign that something like this would come sooner rather than later. A sign you should've read.

You look up at Yoona as you open your mouth. Her fiery gaze stares back at you. You can't tell how rough she is going to be exactly. Should you be using a safe word?

But as Yoona pushes her hips forward, the blue dildo pushing past your lips, you realize that the time for setting a safe word has long past. You feel the plastic in your mouth, the unforgiving material dragging along your tongue. Yoona places her hand on the back of your head, holding you in place as she forces you to take it all at once. The tip slightly grazes the back of your throat, once your lips reach the base.

"Look up."

You do as your told. Yoona stares down at you, her face cold, while her eyes are burning. You catch her biting her lip slightly, before she moves her hips back. A moment later, she pushes them forward again. She starts to pick up the pace soon after, letting her other hand wander towards the back of your head as well.

Yoona is now fucking your face. Not as hard and fast as you occasionally do with her, but enough for you to cough once in a while. Due to her constant thrusts, the blue plastic is eventually covered in your saliva. Some of the liquid is already staining your lips and chin.

"What a good boy you are, sucking mommy's cock."

Up until now, you had both of your hands placed on the mattress, supporting your weight. Now, knowing how horny Yoona is, you reach forward with one hand. Since she is wearing a one piece, it was hard for you worship her whole body just now. So you try to make up for it by placing your hand between her thighs.

"That's right, baby. Mommy comes first."

Yoona slows down a little to make it easier for you to rub her pussy through the black fabric. Whenever you send really big jolts of pleasure through her body, Yoona thrusts forward uncontrollably. And soon, she is fucking your mouth again, while you try to pleasure her.

"Press harder."

You follow her orders, applying more pressure on her pussy.

"Fuck, yes!"

Yoona hisses loudly at the sudden increase of pleasure. Her hips move as fast as your hand, the two of you in a silent competition on who can go the fastest. It doesn't take long for Yoona to win as she forced herself inside of you exceptionally deep, making you gag and lose control of her your hand.

"Turn around."

She tells you, while you still recover from her sudden attack.

Once you do, you feel Yoona climb on the bed as well, kneeling behind you.

"If you are going to be a good boy and take it well"

Yoona leans over you slightly, the wet plastic pressing against your ass cheeks. It sends a shiver down your spine as you know very well what's next.

"I will reward you by letting you lick and kiss every single part of me."

It's an offer you can't refuse. For one, because you would do anything to get that opportunity. And two, because you are literally unable to refuse. Even if you would try, Yoona would just laugh at you.

You feel the dildo poke your butt hole as Yoona readies herself. She lets her hands wander over your cheeks, before she reaches underneath you. A moment later, her hand holds your cock, slowly stroking it.

"Don't cum too early, baby. Last time, you made a mess of yourself while cuming."

One would think that Yoona is just being considerate. But her tone says otherwise. It drips with her lust and you can tell that that's exactly what she wants. For you to lose control over your body as you cum.

Finally, Yoona slowly pushes forward. You breath a little heavier as you try to adjust to the new feeling.

"Relax, or this is gonna hurt."

Usually, Yoona would stop if you had trouble taking it and speak some encouraging words.

Not this time. Instead of waiting, she pushes the plastic tip past the ring of your muscles. You hold onto the sheets as Yoona slowly pulls you towards her, while she moves forward.

More and more of her length you take. Inch by inch, the blue dildo stretches your ass.

"Oh fuck, baby. Your ass looks so tight."

One of her hands squeezes your cheeks, while the other keeps stroking your cock. You grit your teeth as Yoona pushes further. Having taken this dildo a couple of times already, you can tell that you're halfway there. You feel every new inch drag past your muscles.

You feel fuller than before as Yoona keeps going. She doesn't stop, until you've finally taken it all.

"Good boy, taking all of mommy's cock."

Yoona whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You know that this only the calm before the storm.

Without asking if you are ready, which she would usually do, Yoona starts to pull out of you. Your hole clamps down on the plastic, not wanting it to leave your body. Just when only the tip remains inside, Yoona pushes forward again. She does this very slowly a couple of times, before she starts to pick up the pace.

It hurts a little as she becomes faster, but you don't complain. You can take it and you don't want to get on her bad side.

"Oh, damn. You're so hard already."

The whole time, Yoona has kept stroking your cock. She removes her hand for a moment and you hear her spit on it. Her now wet hand goes back to working your cock, while the plastic cock in your ass keeps moving back and forth.

Just as you are getting adjusted to the current pace, Yoona starts to fuck you faster. Some thrust leaves you breathless as she pushes your face into the mattress with her power.

"Mommy..."

You don't dare ask her to stop, but you need to warn her. You feel like you are losing control. Your thighs start to shake, your cock twitching a little.

"Not, yet."

You can tell she is gritting her teeth as she fucks you from behind. Both her hands are now on your ass as she keeps up the pace. Soon, she is pounding away with no regard for your comfort. The plastic inside of you drags along your inner walls and keeps splitting you open.

"Mommy..."

It seems that is the only word that you can force off your lips. As she takes your ass, you can tell that Yoona is really enjoying herself. Her nails are slightly digging into your flesh as she holds a tight grip on you. Apart from her breathing, which is now a little faster, you can hear her deep moans and an occasional grunt.

"Mommy, I think I'm gonna-"

You suddenly have a mouthful of the mattress. Yoona has pushed your head down to shut you up, ignoring your warnings that you're about to cum.

You can't help it. The plastic dildo in your ass keeps dragging along your inner walls as Yoona fucks you hard. You hiss, feeling slight pain, as she bottoms out inside of you.

You want to warn her again. Tell her you're about to cum on the sheets. But your words are muffled by the mattress, while Yoona keeps fucking you further into it.

"Don't cum too early, baby."

She mocks you, her hand finding it's way to your cock again. She squeezes it slightly while she strokes you faster and faster. Timed with her thrusts, her handjob pushes you further towards your climax.

Because you can't talk, you can do nothing but take Yoona's cock in silence. You feel your back arch as Yoona pushes your head even further into the mattress. It enables her to drive herself even deeper into you.

That's the final push you needed. You let out a deep moan as you climax immediately. Yoona's dildo feels even bigger now, her hand drains you of all of your cum. You can tell you've ruined the sheets, without even having to look.

"You've taken mommy's cock so well, baby."

Yoona leans down to kiss your cheek. For the first time today, she seems to genuinely care for you.

"Time for your reward."

You lift your head, once Yoona has removed her hand. You fall to the side, still breathing a little heavily.

Yoona uses your small break to untie the belt, before tossing it off the bed. She straddles you and leans over you with an expectant look.

You move your head upwards to lap at her armpits, cleaning her off the sweat that had just build up over the last couple of minutes.

"Get your tongue in there, yes!"

Yoona sighs in delight. You let your hands wander over her clothed back, trying to find the zipper. Once you do, you slowly reveal what's been hiding underneath her one piece.

You move from her armpits, over her collarbone, towards her chest. You suck on Yoona's nipples, once your reach them. She moans out loud. Her tits are quite sensitive, especially while you dedicate yourself to worshipping her body.

More and more of her skin gets covered in kisses, until you've been everywhere at least once.

"Make me cum, baby."

Yoona quickly strips off her entire one piece, now leaning over you completely naked. The sight makes you hard again already. She quickly lowers herself onto your cock. Just like earlier, she doesn't wait for you to adjust yourself. She quickly picks up the pace, using your cock like a dildo.

"Use your tongue, damn it."

She groans as you stop for a couple of seconds, because you are too captivated by her beauty.

While she rides you, you keep your tongue on the skin of her upper body. You make sure you don't miss a spot. Her tight midriff, her chest, her collarbone, her shoulders, her pits. All deserve equal attention as you do your best to reach each spot.

Eventually, the combination of your cock inside of her and your tongue all over her pleasure her too much, Yoona finally orgasms on top of you. Her body shakes as she rides out her high.

Once she comes down, you are surprised by feeling her getting off of you.

"Mommy-?"

You'd hoped she would allow you to stay inside her longer. Maybe even cum in her.

"You are not done yet."

Yuna turns around and lies on her stomach on top of you. She purposefully puts her feet in the direction of your face. You feel her lips wrap around your cock, while you dart your tongue out to get your first taste of her feet today.

As you shift around a little, you can tell that your going to be sore tomorrow. But it won't be too bad. Because once she woke up, Yoona will be the beautiful sunshine she usually is. You wonder how long it's gonna take until her next rampage.

------------

Hi, everyone.

This is the first time I tried writing kinks like armpits and pegging, so the quality might not be as good as you expected. But I hope you were still enjoying reading it.

Stay healthy!

[ao3commentoftheday]

I was reading your answer to the anon who is caught up in worrying about fic reception and perfectionism, and was wondering: what would you suggest for a fic writer who is hung up on how they view their writing? I write for myself first and view any outside praise is a bonus; I have a healthy relationship with my stats. But when I go to write, even if it's something I don't intend to post, I still get hung up on making sure the fic is up to the writing standards I set for myself.... Help?

Where do your writing standards come from? Are they realistic for you to achieve? And what will happen if you don't meet them?

A reasonable standard for writing a first draft is getting some broad strokes ideas down on the page in order to find out which parts of the story you really do want to write and which parts seem interesting but might fit better into a different story.

And unreasonable standard is to expect that you have the story fully baked and ready to be transcribed directly from your brain onto the page with no need to switch scenes around or remove a side character or add in an extra chapter to set up something that's coming later.

Writing is an iterative process. You write and then you rewrite and then you rewrite again, and eventually you'll find the story that you want to tell and the way that you want to tell it. For some people, the means gathering all the ingredients together and eventually baking a cake. For others, that means staring at a huge block of marble and gradually chipping away at it until they've got a statute. There are an infinite number of ways to go about doing it, but expecting to write the thing down perfectly from the very first attempt is just setting yourself up for failure.

I tend to draft my stories in my head before I write them down. For me, it is more transcribing than it is writing. But that's because I've spent hours or days or weeks thinking about my story and telling it to myself over and over again, without writing it down. I've worked out the kinks and adjusted the plot and figured out the characters in my head first, and even then when I've got it 90% done, I'll still adjust things when I sit down and write.

A lot of perfection is about trying to avoid the shame of failure - but you're creating your own definition of failure here, and your definition might be too broad. It might also be too negative.

Every failure is an opportunity to learn. By seeing what doesn't work, you have a better chance of finding out what does. A lot of writing is failing to tell the story you want to tell, looking at what doesn't work in the way that you told it, and then trying to tell it a different way to see if you got closer to what you're trying to say. Give yourself those opportunities to tell it wrong. What's wrong for this story might be the perfect way to tell the next one or the one after that.

Every failure also contains some smaller success. Find those successes and celebrate them. They're still worthy, even if they aren't the end goal.

If all of this is too difficult right now, then I recommend trying to write something you don't care about as much. Choose a silly idea or a ridiculous premise that you'd usually throw away because it's too different from what you usually write. If you're less invested in the story, you might be able to loosen up a little more and allow yourself to be freer and make some mistakes.

You could even set out to write something purposefully bad. Create the next My Immortal. Do all of the things you berate yourself for, but do them on purpose. Recognize that nothing bad happens to you as a result.

I'd love to hear from others in the notes. Have you experienced something like what anon is describing in their ask? How do you cope with setting standards that are too high or unreasonable? How do you push past that need to perfection and find a way to learning what is actually good enough?

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact/H:SR) Asking "What does PLAP PLAP PLAP mean?" to their S/O

Genshin: Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ei, Furina, Jean, Kokomi, Shenhe, Xianyun Star Rail: Asta, Firefly, Natasha, March 7th, Stelle

I don't know what possessed me to write this, other than imagining it'd be REALLY funny, and REALLY stupid.

NSF-W IMPLICATIONS BELOW THE CUT!

Arlecchino had overheard this term passing by a younger couple, and she had no earthly idea of what it meant.

It seemed like everyday, the vocabulary gap was growing wider and wider between her and the others.

And considering it was a couple saying it, and not children, there was really only one person to ask.

(Arlecchino) "S/O. I'd like to ask you about something I overheard."

S/O took the teacup into their hand and smiled at her.

(S/O) "What is it, Arle?"

(Arlecchino) "Do you know what, and apologies if I am mispronouncing this, plap plap plap is?"

S/O immediately spat out their drink all over the table, making Arlecchino blink twice in surprise.

Their fist hit their chest repeatedly as they engaged in a violent coughing fit, suddenly turning to her with a much more shocked expression.

(S/O) "WHAT?!"

(Arlecchino) "Judging by your reaction, you appear to."

Arlecchino noticed they immediately began blushing, trying to look everywhere except at her.

But S/O knew better than to lie to her, or god forbid she went to ask her kids what it meant.

(S/O) "It...It uh, refers to an action in bed."

Arlecchino didn't have to ask twice, noticing how they emphasized the last word.

(Arlecchino) "...I see. Is this what all couples are doing these days?"

S/O sighed, cleaning up their mess.

(S/O) "Apparently, if you overheard it in broad daylight..."

(Arlecchino) "Do you think we should join them as well?"

S/O could've sworn there was a small smirk at the end of her question, but she was stoic as ever. They, however, were reduced to another coughing and blushing mess.

(Ayaka) "S/O, does plap have a special meaning to it?"

Ayaka thinks it's some kind of sound effect, but she wasn't entirely sure. She had read it in a book from the Yae Publishing House, but the book didn't really go into detail what it meant.

Ayaka seemed genuinely puzzled at S/O's reaction, why were they so red?

(Ayaka) "S/O, are you alright? You're turning red very quickly!"

(S/O) "I-I'm fine! It's just-Uh...How do I explain this?"

She tilted her head slightly at S/O looking around the room, making sure Thoma or Ayato wasn't in earshot.

Then, S/O whispered into her ear, making Ayaka's eyes widen and join them in turning bright red.

(Ayaka) "...A-Ah...?!"

Ayaka immediately buries her hands into her face.

(Ayaka) "P-Please forget I asked that question, it was incredibly crude of me to say something like that out loud!"

(Ei) "S/O. There's a word in this book I do not recognize."

(S/O) "Here, let me see!"

S/O happily snuggled close to Ei, their eyes going line by line until they reached the word she was pointing at.

And Ei felt their heartrate suddenly spike up, but since she was behind their head, she couldn't see their expression.

(Ei) "...Do you know what it means?"

(S/O) "...Ei, what is this book?"

(Ei) "One that Miko recommended I read and show you, actually."

(S/O) "E-Ei...this book is um...how to phrase this, smut?"

(Ei) "I am aware."

(S/O) "...Wha-"

(Ei) "I know what I am reading heavily involves sex, S/O. I am no fool, but what does plap mean?"

S/O had to explain to her in detail, and why it became a thing, all the while Ei looked mildly intrigued and S/O wanted to die.

But first, they had to ask Miko why in the hell did they give Ei smut?!

(Furina) "...P-Plap?"

Furina's eyes frowned at the word she had just read.

She grabbed a bunch of books on sale while she was out in the city, not really caring their origin or genre.

But clearly, S/O did as they dropped their book completely when Furina spoke it aloud.

(S/O) "F-Furina...?!"

She turned to them with an eyebrow raised.

(Furina) "What is it?"

Noticing how flustered they had become, she grew even more confused as she quickly put the pieces together.

(Furina) "Does...plap mean something to you, S/O?"

(S/O) "Y-You know what that means, right Furina?"

(Furina) "...Psh, of course I do!"

She said without batting an eyelash, staring directly at S/O.

Of course she had no idea what on Gods' green Tevyat it meant, but maybe she could impress S/O by knowing such a word!

(Furina) "Plapping comes naturally to me-"

(S/O) "PLEASE STOP SAYING THAT WORD, FURINA."

Jean emits a quiet "huh" as she puts down her book.

Lisa had suggested this one to read, and admittedly it was a little...raunchier than what she usually reads for romance, but it was still cute.

Until it got to a certain part where it was only giving onomatopoeia for a scene.

Jean wanted to ask Lisa what it meant, until S/O came through the door to their bedroom.

(Jean) "Ah, perfect timing!"

(S/O) "Hello, love. What book are you reading?'

(Jean) "Funny you should mention it, there's a word in here I don't quite understand."

(S/O) "Really? That's surprising, coming from you. What is it?"

Jean opened the page before finding it again, and turning to S/O.

(Jean) "Plap plap plap?"

In an instant, S/O's words died at their throat.

(S/O) ...Nevermind, it makes a lot more sense now...

(Jean) "Um...are you alright dear? Your face looks like its heating up."

Kokomi knew this book Yae picked out for her would be strange.

On top of having the strangest plot for romance she's read, now there were all sorts of words she had no idea what they meant.

Kokomi hummed a cute grunt of annoyance, making S/O's head lift as they were cuddling in bed together.

(S/O) "Koko?"

(Kokomi) "Here, can you read this and tell me what it means?"

(S/O) "Sure."

S/O smiled and picked up the book and glanced at the page. Kokomi saw their expression change by the second, growing more and more concerned.

(S/O) "...W-Which passage are you asking about, Koko?"

(Kokomi) "The one that says plap in it. Is that a noise?"

(S/O) "...Y-Yes it is."

Kokomi grabbed her book back, not noticing how embarrassed S/O was becoming, putting one finger under her chin.

(Kokomi) sigh "This book continues to elude me in its writing. I'm half tempted to pick another book at this rate."

S/O was secretly praying she would, lest she get to some...spicier parts of that same page, and they did not want to have to explain that to their girlfriend.

Shenhe would usually ask all sorts of questions to S/O, ranging from food, what the usual mortal activity was, or even how they were.

This time, it was something that made them flustered, which those occassions weren't in short supply either.

(Shenhe) "S/O, what does it mean when something goes plap plap plap?"

Shenhe saw the telltale signs that this question made S/O embarrassed, the flush in their cheeks, the widening in their eyes, and body freezing up.

(Shenhe) "...Is this another situation where I shouldn't ask others about it?"

Shenhe saw their head nod yes, making her happy that she can at least tell a situation just by words alone.

And S/O knew that they had to be as direct as possible so she wouldn't be confused.

(S/O) "Y-Yes, it's um...r-related to sex, Shenhe."

After explaining it to her, she quickly understands the concept.

(Shenhe) "Is it possible for us-"

(S/O) T-THAT'S ENOUGH, SHENHE!"

Xianyun had to get familiar with a lot of terms when she came to Liyue, no doubt Zhongli and Shenhe had to do the same.

Thankfully, she had Ganyu and many other kind souls in the Harbor to teach her.

None more educating than her S/O. And like always, she had a question for her beloved.

(Xianyun) "One must ask you something, S/O. I overheard a young mortal couple saying something that flustered their friends. Is plap plap plap something taboo?"

S/O coughed on their food, eyes glancing over to Xianyun, making sure they heard the question correct.

Xianyun was sitting silently, awaiting an answer as she adjusted her glasses with a finger.

(S/O) "V-Very taboo, Xianyun..."

(Xianyun) "But what exactly does it mean?"

(S/O) "It...ugh, it has to do with intercourse..."

That was the best way they could've phrased that without exploding.

(Xianyun) "...Is that it? That seems fairly mundane for everyone to become so flustered about, yourself included-"

(S/O) "YOU SHOULDN'T GO AROUND FLAUNTING IT TO OTHERS!"

Asta saw some kind of weird ad on her phone while she was shopping.

No doubt it'd give her a virus, so she ignored it, but the word on there was quite strange.

(Asta) "The heck is a plap?"

The door to her bedroom slid open, with S/O laying down next to her while Asta kept scrolling.

(S/O) "Heya-...Something bothering you? Your face is doing that cute frown."

She giggled at that but shook her head.

(Asta) "Nah, nothing. Just a word I didn't know on some clickbait ad."

(S/O) "What was it?"

S/O got their answer when they leaned over to her phone.

(Asta) "That one riiiiight there. Know what that-"

And Asta got her answer when she saw their face.

(Asta) "Wow! You're burning up!"

(S/O) "Um...J-Just search it up."

Asta raised an eyebrow.

(Asta) "Why can't you just tell me?"

(S/O) "Just d-do it."

(Asta) "Oookay? ... ... ...O-Oh. Ooooh..."

Firefly was very confused when she heard those three words for the first time.

Silver Wolf had said it, regarding her and S/O. Kafka laughed while Blade rolled his eyes, yet Firefly had no idea what it actually meant.

And, to be expected, neither of the three would tell her what it meant.

Meaning there was one person who would!

Getting her phone out, she texted S/O.

[Firefly] S/O!~ [S/O] What's up, sweetie? [Firefly] What's 'plap plap plap'? ... [S/O] is typing... ...

(Firefly) "...Huh?"

Suddenly, S/O stopped typing, making her pout.

(Firefly) "Hmph! Why is no one telling me what that means?!"

She'd just have to ask them in person, then they couldn't avoid it!

ONE IN PERSON EXPLANATION LATER

Firefly had completely frozen in place, her eyes wide-eyed like a doe as her words stuttered and died before they fully formed.

(Firefly) "I-I...A-AH!"

She couldn't meet S/O's eyes anymore, and immediately encased herself in her armor, looking away.

March overheard a couple planetside say it, and it made her giggle.

It was kinda fun to say!

But...she didn't really knew what it meant. Dan Heng and Pom-Pom sure didn't.

Caelus and Stelle seemed to laugh at it, but never told her.

Welt and Himeko's eyes widened a bit upon hearing March say it, but would find an excuse when she asked what it meant.

She COULD look at the internet and find out, but instead:

March wrapped her arms playfully around S/O's shoulders, feeling them relax into her hug.

(March 7th) "S/O! Question!"

(S/O) "Hm? What's your question, March?"

(March 7th) "Does plap plap plap mean anything weird?"

March felt their body stiffen in response. She could tell they wanted to move out her arms, but she didn't let them with her ironclad grip.

(S/O) "Does...Does it relate to you holding onto me like that...?!"

(March 7th) "Iunno, you tell me! Everyone's acting super weird everytime I say it."

(S/O) "It...uh..."

They whispered it into her ear, making her back up and cover her mouth in shock.

(March 7th) "I...I'VE BEEN SAYING THAT ALL DAY!"

(S/O) "Oh my god..."

Natasha wasn't an idiot, of course she knew what it meant.

She had to tell many people off from saying it near her kids.

But...it was kind of funny to see people's reactions to it, and she was not above teasing S/O in the slightest.

With a little smirk after work one night, she cuddles close into S/O, sounding as innocent as possible.

(Natasha) "S/O?"

(S/O) "Yes, Nat?"

(Natasha) "Can you tell me what plap means? I thought I heard some of the kids saying it."

Watching S/O's face scrunch up into a mixture of horror and embarrassment was absolutely hilarious, so much so her facade immediately broke.

(S/O) "N-NAT! You can't just ask crap like that out of the blue!"

(Natasha) "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't resist! You're just so cute when you do that.~"

Stelle 100% knows what it means.

The question was, did S/O?

It was a good thing she was usually super stoic, at least in person, cause that meant she could bullshit S/O into thinking she didn't.

She walks into their room, with the best poker face she had.

(Stelle) "Hey, S/O."

(S/O) "What's up, Stelle?"

(Stelle) "What does plap plap plap mean?"

Watching their breath stop for a split second, their eyes suddenly darting back and forth.

Oh yeah, they knew what it meant.

S/O stared at her with a red face for a few moments before frowning.

(S/O) "...I know what you're doing, Stelle. You 100% know what it means!"

Damn it, she failed the deception check.

They knew her too well...

Oh well, watching them be flustered was always super cute/funny.