#this has been in my head for a while and i was like ACTUALLY

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[luveline]

hihihihi! 🥹💕 i want to let you know that i adore your hotch fics! and i wanted to ask if you’d be ok—but no pressure!!!— to write one with bombshell!reader waking up from anesthesia and forgetting hotch and her are already together and starts flirting with him the way bombshell!reader absolutely would lol? thank you!

thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re sitting against a pillow with a yoghurt in your hand. You must’ve been on some sort of auto-pilot… Are you in a hospital gown?

You put your yoghurt down on the table that’s been wheeled over your lap and stare at the white-blue chequered gown creased between your thighs. Your head feels heavy. 

“You okay?” 

You drag your gaze to the source of the voice. 

Agent Hotchner sits in the chair next to your bed. He has one leg crossed over the other, but he notices your confusion and his nonchalance turns to concern. “You need help?” 

“With the yoghurt?” you ask. 

“Yeah, honey. I can help.” 

You roll that over in your mind. Stern Agent Hotchner just called you honey. 

You’ve been trying to convince him for a while that you’re someone worth being sweet to. Trying to sway him, because there are parts of him you can’t get out of your head when he’s not around. He has not yet been swayed. Honey is a hand held out you’re going to snatch. 

Hotch stands. He goes to pick up your yoghurt. 

“What, are you gonna spoon feed me?” you ask, a clumsy drawl to your voice.

“I was going to… but I don’t like your tone.” 

Is he flirting back? You must’ve hit your head. “Coward,” you murmur. Speaking of hitting your head, there’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and a dryness to your throat bordering on uncomfortable. The yoghurt was there for a reason, clearly, but you don’t have the energy in you to eat seductively. 

“My head hurts,” you say quietly. 

You close your eyes. 

“I know.” A hand touches your face. You stay very still, though your heart doesn’t. “You don’t feel too hot. Do you want a drink? I can get you anything.” 

“Your hand is so big…” 

“Not so much bigger than your own,” he says. 

“Prove it.” 

He says your name like he knows you well, which sets your racing heart off all over again. But, used to hiding from him, you open your eyes to watch him and wipe all surprise from your face. You raise your hand, and he raises his, and you press your fingers together. Your fingertips don’t reach his, his palm wider, warmer. You thread your fingers carefully into the gaps between his, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. 

Less satisfied when he closes his hand around yours. 

“You’re teasing me,” you say. 

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you lay back properly?” 

“Super, super forward.” You lay back under the pressure of his hand, stricken by the feeling that he’s done something like that before. You rest your head against your elevated pillows and have to give up —you can’t hide how surprised you are at his open touching, his face so close to yours you can see every warm fleck in his dark eyes. 

“You look startled,” he murmurs. 

“I think you’ve been bodysnatched.” 

“I have?” 

“Yes.” You nod. “I can’t keep up. And I’m usually pretty great at that.” 

“At what?” 

“Flirting.” 

“Oh,” he says, taking your hand again, pulling it toward his mouth, “you think I’m flirting?” 

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

“Not beyond the usual. You’re more lucid than they suspected you’d be, actually.” He kisses your knuckles. 

“I’ve hit my head.” 

“No, honey, you were under anaesthesia. Everything’s fine.” 

“You’ve hit your head.” 

He breathes out a laugh. “I don’t remember any injuries, but I’d love to know why you think so.” 

“You’re kissing me.” 

He pauses, lowering your hand. “Yes?” he says cautiously. 

“Would you want to do it again?” 

Hotch puts your hand on your chest. He cups your cheek in one hand, takes your shoulder into the other, and leans down to see you eye to eye. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. You can feel the love he has for you in each word. 

Weirdly, you can feel it in yourself, too. Like, more than a crush. More than wanting him to spin you around or play with your thigh under a desk. You really love him. 

“I think I forgot you,” you say softly. 

“Amnesia is a very common symptom of anaesthesia, don’t worry.” He pulls your face up to peck you, quick but not without a gentleness that has your hands thrumming with pins and needle. “I thought you were acting strange, but I put it down to discomfort. Sorry, I imagine it’s very disconcerting to feel you don’t know me.” 

He just kissed you. “No, I know you, I just… I think I love you, but you don’t usually want me back.” 

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says, his dulcet tenor another comfort entirely. “And I love you, whether you remember it or not. Should we try to finish your yoghurt?” 

“You really love me?” 

He turns your face to press a kiss into your eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 

“I do–” You begin before thinking about it, and realise that you’re telling the truth. You remember that he loves you. Agent Hotchner loves you. He’s in your hospital room handling you like thin glass.  

“Well, is there much else to remember?” 

You practically smirk at him. “I can think of some things.” 

“Wow!” He leans down for another kiss. “You’re awful,” he murmurs, his smile soft on your lips. 

[drchucktingle]

sometimes buds ask’ what is it like to be a neurodivergent artist?’ and this is great summary: the charts can look like this, and at same time people will be endlessly posting on how you are ‘not real’ or ‘a bit’. you can hold bestsellers in slot 1 to 4 and still not be 'serious'

i am ultimately ok with this. i love my trot and would not have it any other way, but i think it is worth investigation. when irony poisoning has seeped into everything, how many times does a neurodivergent person have to say ‘actually this is NOT so bad its good. its just good’

when you are autistic, or queer, or both, how much proof do you need to be considered good art? or good business? what do the charts have to look like for me to be a ‘real’ author? or allowed my face mask at a library association conference? or one person not a group of writers?

im coming up on a decade of writing tinglers soon, and people are still talkin about my ‘serious’ works vs my ‘joke books’ and at every turn, as kindly as i can, i shout from the rooftops: THEY ARE ALL SERIOUS BOOKS. THIS IS NOT A BIT.

but its hard when buds have had ‘the correct way to be a writer. the correct way to be an artist. the COOL way to react to a book that is TOO weird’ pounded into their heads by internet culture. 'kill it with fire' they say. 'i need eye bleach' they say without thinking. a line.

heres the thing, the tide IS turning. theres buckaroos jumping in and saying, ‘I want to be a part of this’ and for that they are being rewarded. the publisher who took me seriously is lookin pretty dang good right now with these charts and these sales. i am honored and moved

over time there will be more buds who shed that irony mask. the tide of sincerity is powerful, and the tide of love is inevitable. it is difficult to stand strong in our uniqueness but it also pays off, and I hope to be a shining example. eventually THE TIMELINE BENDS TO YOU

so this is not a thread to complain. i have been trotting long enough that these things do not really bother me. being made fun of and disparaged as ‘not legit art’ while also being objectively successful at the things im made fun of about is kind of the ocean that i swim in.

no. my point of this is to say THANK YOU to those of you who have been trotting by my side over these years. THANK YOU for proving love to me. im so honored by your support, and you should know that YOU have seen beyond the irony poisoned veil that stops many others. YOU get it.

and to those with their own unique perspective on creation: look what you can do. yes there will likely be a lot of resistance to something different, but there is also a LOT of reward. YOU can trot a new path. YOU can prove love is real, not in MY way, but IN YOUR OWN WAY

anyway thank you for reading buckaroos. thank you for your support. LUCKY DAY comes out next summer and it is probably as FAR OUT and existential as the tingleverse has ever gone. you can preorder it here

[reidswhre]

notes 4 you ; spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: fluff! best friends in love

You were gathering your things from your desk while wondering what you were going to have for dinner. You hadn’t left any food prepared, and honestly, you didn’t feel like cooking, but nothing that a food delivery couldn’t fix.

“Hi.” Spencer smiled at you from in front.

“Hey, you.” You smiled back while slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Are you heading home?” He asked.

“Of course, I’m going home, where else would I go at this hour?” You teased him.

“Oh- I don’t know- I- well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought maybe you could come to my place, I’m making pasta.”

“Your place? Oh God, sure! I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

You used to go to Spencer’s place often, and he to yours. You’d have dinner, watch a movie or two, and talk a lot. You spent all day together at work, but given the tragic cases you dealt with, seeing each other outside of work felt peaceful, a nice atmosphere that you both created.

You liked him a lot, and you were sure he liked you too. There were always moments when everything felt tense or you sensed something stronger than friendship between you, but neither of you ever acted on it.

“I missed it here,” you said as you entered Spencer’s apartment.

“Did you?” He asked as he watched you head straight to his bookshelf.

“Are you kidding? I love this place; it’s so cozy, so interesting, so lovely, so… you.”

“Do you love me?” He gave you a playful look as he set the groceries on the table for dinner.

“Of course, I do, silly.” You rolled your eyes and picked up the book on the coffee table. “This one’s new.”

“Yeah—actually, all those piled over there are new.” He pointed to a stack of about five books to your right.

“Oh, can I borrow this one when you're done?” you asked, grabbing one from the pile.

“You can take any of them, really.” He gave you that closed-lip smile.

“Wait, you’ve read all five already? You said they were new!”

“I read fast.”

“Of course you do.” You rolled your eyes again, smiling as you skimmed through the book.

“By the way! I finished reading that book you recommended, your favorite, remember?”

You felt a wave of happiness wash over you. “You’re kidding! I didn’t even know you bought it! How exciting! What did you think?”

“It was pretty good, though I think the dialogues in the book show some deficiencies in terms of plausibility and conversational dynamics. This homogeneity in the discourse negatively affects the characterization and pacing, creating a sense of stagnation in the dramatic development.”

You were left speechless, which made you laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” He furrowed his brows.

“You just severely criticized my favorite book!”

“I didn’t criticize it severely!” He defended himself. “I thought it was good! It has memorable lines, and it’s very romantic. I just think the dialogue could’ve been better, that’s all.”

“Sure, everyone’s entitled to their opinion, even if yours is wrong,” you teased.

“Hey!” Spencer feigned offense.

You laughed, and Spencer chuckled a little too.

“You can keep that one too.”

“No, no, don’t worry. I have that book in every edition that exists.” You laughed. “It’s my favorite for a reason.”

“Yeah, but—I thought you might want this one.” Spencer walked over to the bookshelf in front of you and pulled out the book from a drawer.

The book was filled with sticky notes. You glanced at it and saw it was covered with annotations everywhere.

“I—well—I made notes while reading because—I don’t know—I wanted to give it to you. I thought you’d like to see how I was doing as I read it.” He looked a bit nervous.

You looked at him and then back at the book. You were so surprised that no words came out of your mouth, which only made Spencer more anxious.

“No—you don’t have to keep it—It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like you had to read it, I didn’t even ask if you wanted it, I’m really sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” You raised your eyebrows. “Sorry for giving me the best gift anyone’s ever given me?” You smiled broadly.

“What? You want it?” He sighed in relief.

“Are you kidding? This is incredible.” You threw your arms around him in a hug. “I love it! I can’t wait to see what you wrote.” You pulled away from the hug to skim through the book.

“No! Don’t do that!” He placed his hands over the book so you couldn’t read it. “Read it at home, okay?”

“Why!? I want to read it now.” You laughed and moved the book out of his reach.

“The thing is, I—you know—I wrote a lot…” He looked away.

You gave him a knowing look. “Of course, that was the idea, wasn’t it? I’m well aware,” you said teasingly.

“Sure! But… I didn’t just write what I thought about the book.” He looked at you. “I highlighted and underlined things that reminded me of you, and… I wrote you a few things. Just—read it later, okay?”

Suddenly, you felt a bit nervous, your stomach flipping. What did he mean by writing you a few things?

“Oh sure… yeah—sorry.” You closed the book and tucked it under your arm.

“It’s okay! Forget it.” He smiled sweetly. “Help me with the pasta, yeah?”

You smiled back. “What?” You pretended to be offended. “I came here to be treated like a princess, not to get my hands dirty!”

“Stop complaining!” He teased you, and you laughed.

You returned home around midnight, hung up your jacket, and left your keys on the table. Eagerly, you pulled the book out of your bag and sat down on the couch to take a look.

You saw some of his notes.

What’s this supposed to be? This guy’s an idiot. >:(

Oh, that was sweet! Extra points for him!

She’s funny, just like you.

you and me :) It was next to a paragraph describing a black cat and an orange one playing around.

I’m reading this on the plane, and you’re asleep i miss you :(

I seriously hate this guy, who raised him!?

You looked really cute today. You’re always cute.

There were countless more notes, all in his handwriting.

You had no intention of sleeping until you finished reading them all.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ SUPER RICH KIDS kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is back home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, weight mentions

finally.

you’d think after everything that someone has gone through in this house, stepping back through those doors would be the last thing she’d want. but she wasn’t going to lie.

yn felt at peace.

because in the moon mansion, she could be who she truly was and not feel bad about it.

a rich girl.

“lunch will be ready soon,” jia’s voice broke through the peaceful quiet as yn lay sprawled on her pink towel by the pool.

yn let out a contented sigh, lifting her sunglasses and pushing her hair back. “thanks, jia. what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

“you already attended the press conference with your father, so that’s off your list. your brothers will be going to the one tomorrow, so all you’ve got left is golfing with your members.”

the happy, serene soundtrack in yn’s head came to a screeching halt as she shot up from her towel.

“what?!”

“your mother didn’t tell you? she thought it’d be a good idea for you to invite them, so she reached out while you were out with your father,” jia said, her expression full of concern. she didn’t understand. shouldn’t yn be excited?

“when does she ever tell me anything?” yn grumbled, flopping back down on her towel childishly “jia, during dinner, add a splash of vodka to my mango juice. maybe the alcohol will keep me from flipping the table.”

jia chuckled softly, fondness in her eyes for the girl she’d watched grow up. “when has that ever helped anything? i’ll check on lunch.”

yn groaned as jia walked away. this was supposed to be her escape. chaewon is going to have a field day with this.

it seems like nothing can ever go yn’s way.

dinner was quiet. but that was hardly unusual. as far back as yn could remember, dinner had never been family bonding time

bonding didn’t even exist in this family.

the unspoken rule was simple: eat in silence, speak only when necessary.

honestly, yn found the quiet pretty peaceful. just eating, no forced conversation.

but it seemed like her mother couldn’t stand seeing her at peace—ever.

maybe that was an exaggeration, but yn firmly believed it.

“you seem tense, yn,” jae said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he took a slow sip from his drink. “something bothering you? got a problem with someone?”

yn gripped her fork tightly, slowly lifting her gaze from her plate. “i do, actually. and for once, it’s not with you, dickhead.”

“language,” their father muttered, eyes never leaving the documents he’d brought to the table.

“oh really, who’s ahead of me?” jae asked clearly liking the banter him and yn are having at the moment.

“I won’t disclose any details just as yet.”

daeun rolled his eyes at his siblings, then, deciding to break the silence since everyone seemed eager to chat, he asked, “so, mom, how was your day?”

their mother beamed at the question, her smile bright and warm. oh, how she adored her son. yn couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“it was amazing, honey. i was just reading an article about your sister’s group.”

“oh, really?” jae responded with mild interest.

“yes! that yunjin member mentioned how she always makes sure the other girls eat and stay healthy. isn’t that wonderful? yn, you have such lovely members.”

as far as yn was concerned, yunjin had never once asked if she was eating properly. but that wasn’t what set her off, she had kazuha who always checked in on her.

it was the nerve her mother had to praise yunjin for something like that—the same person who was the root cause of yn’s so-called “problem.”

“is that why you invited them over tomorrow—without asking me?”

yn hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but her mother’s comment set her off.

her mother furrowed her eyebrows at yn’s tone. “yes, actually. they seem like lovely girls. i was going to suggest you invite those ai girls you’re so fond of, but your judgment isn’t always the best, so i made the decision for you.”

the screech of yn’s chair echoed through the dining room. “i’m not hungry anymore, because clearly no one in this family respects me. may i be excused?”

“sure,” her father said casually, taking a sip of his wine.

“oh, come on, yn! let’s not fall back into those habits,” jae teased.

”fuck you jae!”

“language.”

“you don’t like them, do you?”

yn lifted her head from her pillow, turning slowly to see daeun standing at her door.

“what?”

“the girls in your group. you don’t like them.”

she watched as he stepped forward and sat at the edge of her fluffy bed. “you wouldn’t have reacted that way if it were the girls from sm.”

yn hated how daeun could always read her. they barely talked nowadays, but he still knew his little sister like the back of his hand.

“it’s not that I don’t like them. they don’t like me. no matter how much I lower myself or how nice i act, it’s like they can’t get over the fact that i’m a moon.”

“you lowered yourself for them?”

yn’s eyes flicked up from her lap to see jae standing at the door, disappointment written across his face.

she nodded, feeling a wave of shame. they were raised to believe they were better than everyone else, and here she was, bending over backward for girls who didn’t even like her.

“well, that was your first mistake,” jae said, shaking his head as daeun nodded in agreement.

“you’re dimming who you are to make them feel comfortable, and they’re taking advantage of that,” daeun added, hitting the nail on the head. yn hated how right he was.

“i know you, yn. you’re a bitch—a real one,” jae said with a smirk, earning an eye roll from her. “just be who you are. that’s how you’ll show them. it seems like they can’t stand the fact that you were always going to be successful, idol or not, and they hate that.”

“woah.” yn blinked in disbelief, looking between her brothers. “for once, you two actually make sense.”

“see? a bitch.”

yn adjusted the dior sunglasses perched atop her head, then straightened her pink ralph lauren golf dress before turning to jia.

“why are they taking so long? it’s a gated community,” she complained, tapping her foot as she stood in front of her expansive front lawn.

“patience is key, miss moon. the van is pulling up,” jia replied calmly.

yn felt anxiety creep in but quickly reminded herself of her brother's words. this wasn’t the dorms; this was her turf, the place where yn excelled.

the first person to step out of the van was kazuha, who immediately sprinted toward her.

“zuha!”

“you look so cute! i love your dress,” kazuha gushed, her eyes scanning yn’s outfit she couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed yn looked, she was completely in her element.

“thanks! my dad got it. it’s vintage!” yn beamed.

“of course he did.” yn already knew who that could be.

as she looked past kazuha, she noticed the rest of the girls gazing at her house in awe, it was kinda awkward seeing them, especially after the last time, but yn was just gonna pretend like that day never happened.

yunjin nudged chaewon, nodding toward jia, who narrowed her eyes at chaewon, causing the latter's eyes to widen.

chaewon hadn’t realized someone else was there.

yn couldn’t help but smile at that. “this is jia, the help.”

the girls nodded politely, while kazuha waved, causing yn to furrow her brows. “bow?”

the girls’ eyes widened at the unexpected demand but quickly bowed their heads.

“we treat the help with great respect around here,” yn said sternly . “so take note of that for next time.”

kazuha smiled at yn while the others nodded, a mix of confusion and compliance on their faces.

“so, who’s ready to golf?” yn asked, flashing a sweet smile.

“you guys suck,” yn laughed, watching the girls struggle with their golf swings.

“well, not everyone has been doing this since birth,” chaewon shot back, rolling her eyes.

“you’re so right! it would take a lot to be like me, wouldn’t it?” yn teased, nudging chaewon’s side causing the girl to stumble “your form is horrendous.”

she strolled over to eunchae, adjusting the younger girl’s stance, then moved on to yunjin.

chaewon’s gaze drifted down yn’s body, taking in her outfit of course, she didn’t even know people actually wore dresses like that these days.

she was about to make a snarky comment when a loud shout interrupted her.

“ignore them it’s just the golf boys,” yn said as she corrected sakura’s form.

chaewon rolled her eyes when she heard the boys calling out yn’s name in a flirty tone.

“passed around?”

yn groaned at chaewon’s words. “I’ve only talked to them a handful of times. I barely know them.”

“i talk to the caddy girls a lot, though,” yn added, causing kazuha to laugh while chaewon scrunched her face in distaste.

“do you want my help with your form?” yn asked chaewon, raising an eyebrow.

“definitely not.”

“okay, then continue embarrassing yourself.”

chaewon opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by a woman’s voice.

“yn!”

the girls turned to see yn’s mother approaching, and yn groaned, rolling her eyes. “why is she here?” she mumbled to herself.

the girls recognized the woman—it was yn’s mother.

“hey, ladies! I hope you’re having fun and that yn is being a good host,” she said with a bright smile.

the girls greeted yn’s mom with polite smiles, and she continued, “I just wanted to drop off some cute gifts i got for you all. I completely forgot about them! I had to stop the driver we just left from going to lunch.”

“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”

“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”

yn couldn’t remember them ever holding something for her achievements, and she had plenty. “right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”

the girls exchanged awkward glances; they had never seen yn like this before.

“don’t act like that. god, you’re just like your father,” her mother said, brushing off yn's feelings.

yn clenched her jaw. “is that all? you just came by to drop off gifts?”

“yes, and i wanted to check on you. stop being so moody! just like your dad. my boys are more like me,” her mom said with a smile, prompting awkward laughter from the girls.

“you see how she argues with me, such a daddy’s girl, she looks like a girl version of him as well doesn’t she?.” her mother laughs causing yn to look at chaewon who looks at back at her with a blank face.

“how about you go back to your boys? they’re probably waiting for ‘mommy’,” yn snapped, glaring at her mother.

she had never spoken to her mother this way before, but as she got older, her respect for the woman had diminished. she barely considered her mother a mom anymore.

“yes, i have to go. we’re going shopping to pick out suits for your father and brothers.”

yn felt as if she had been punched in the gut. family shopping—without her? everyone knows yn loves shopping.

“did you plan that too?” she shot back.

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

the girls’ eyes widened at her mother’s words, but yn remained unfazed on the outside.

inside, however, yn felt the sting. she tried to pretend she didn’t care about her mom’s opinion, but deep down, she knew she’d spend extra time on her diet after that.

“anyway, I have to go. it was nice seeing you girls! i hope you like the gifts,” her mother said before walking away.

the girls turned to yn, who stared at her mother’s retreating figure before turning back to them.

“I just love my perfect life, don’t ’ I chaewon? now let’s work on your imperfect form.”

[moonstruckme]

Hi doll! I love ur new theme btw.

could I request Spencer Reid with (number 3) hands stained with pen ink 🐤? x

Hi baby! Thank you <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 454 words

“Breaker locale.” You tap beside your mouth absentmindedly. “Three letters.”

“Locale?” Spencer checks. 

“Mhm.” 

“Do we have any letters?” 

“If we’re right about sixteen down, then there’s an A in the middle.” 

You’re definitely right about sixteen down. Spencer had gotten that one, and you’ve yet to see the day where he has to scratch something out in the crossword. He’s done most of it, actually, leaving the final few to you while you munch on your toast and he makes coffee. 

“Could it be like an electrical breaker?” you wonder aloud. “Like a breaker box? The breakers live in the box, don’t they?” 

“Not if the second letter is A…” Spencer sounds stumped. You raise your eyebrows at his back and he puts down the bag of coffee grounds, staring at nothing for a few seconds. “Breaker locale…” 

“Maybe it’s like a place where people who break stuff live? Is there a city like that?” 

Spencer shakes his head wordlessly. He finishes messing with the coffee machine and turns it on, coming around the counter to look over your shoulder. 

He exhales a soft laugh. “Lab.” 

“Lab?” You don’t get it even remotely, but you’re already filling the letters in. “How?” 

“It says beaker locale.” 

You find the clue and read it again. “Oh,” you laugh, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “Dumb.” 

“Not dumb,” Spencer chides lightly. “You just misread it. Hey.” He knuckles the corner of your lips. “Be careful not to get ink in your mouth.”

You blink, then wipe the spot with your thumb. It comes away tinged blue. “Oh, god.” You roll your eyes. “I didn’t even realize I was tapping it with my pen. Guess I’m really not having my most intellectual morning.” 

“Don’t say that,” Spencer admonishes you again, but he’s smiling, fingers grasping your jaw as he comes in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and feels like the glowy yellow your apartment turns in the morning light. When he pulls away after a few seconds, his smile slips before righting itself again. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’ve got…” He grimaces sheepishly, holding up the hand that had been on your face. Three of his fingertips are blue. 

“Oh my god.” You laugh, going to the bathroom to see. And yup, there are three blue splotches spread along your jaw, two on one side and one on the other. “Spencer!”

“I’m sorry,” you hear him laugh from the kitchen. “You already had the ones by your mouth anyway, though. They’ll wash off.” 

“These are worse than hickeys, you know that, right?” 

“I don’t really see how…but if they don’t come off and you want a hickey to divert attention from them, I can do that.”

[ohtobeleah]

touch starved Logan with a physical touch reader… yeah….

Touch Starved is a good way to describe Logan in two words. I think after so many years of only ever being touched when someone was trying to inflict some sort of physical pain on him, he just decides touch isn't something he's inherently interested in. It's worth more trouble than its worth seeking.

But I can see it now. Logan would be sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. Your legs, are spread on either side of him as you sit on top of the very couch that Logan spends most of his nights on.

“Can I let you in on a secret?” You coo all the while you card your fingers through Logan's hair. Your hands tend to wander absentmindedly down his next and to his exposed shoulders from time to time.

“Huh?” Logan barely hears you speak. He's so tuned out right now. He's floating on cloud nine because he's never had a massage like this before. One that's so nonchalant. One that's so casual and unintentionally intimate when he lets out a sigh of a moan at your handiwork. “Sure, yeah—sorry, I wasn't here for a moment.” You take it as a compliment while your eyes remain trained on the TV ahead as your hands work magic into Logan's scalp, neck and shoulders.

“That first day,” You begin. “When you came into the cafe looking for Wade but he wasn't around?” Logans listening, he swears. But your touch has always been something that could captivate his every sense and have him completely under your control. He'd never craved something so natural before. Your touch. “I think that's one of my top five days, ever.” You admit.

“How so?” Is all Logans mumbled back. His voice is deep and full of gruff undertones.

“Because I'm just really grateful I got to me you is all,” You shrug. It's not that big of a deal. Whatever you and Logan were was something that wasn't defined by traditional labels. But he knew you loved him. And you knew Logan loved you back. You couldn't explain it, but that mutual understanding that you'd show up for each other when it mattered the most made your heart ache at the thought that until now, Logan never felt that level of love, compassion or understanding. “For the worst Logan, I think you go alright.”

Logan had never had someone in his corner the way he knew you were. And he feels that in every aspect of your relationship. But the thing he notices the most…is your touch. How you aren't afraid to touch him. How you value his body for more than just its mutant abilities. You see him, Logan Howlett, for the man he is and wants to be and not the weapon they designed him to be.

Your hugs ignite his skin like a solar flare. Your kisses, your lips on his, set his heartbeat into overdrive. Sixth gear overdrive. The way you cling to him when you fall asleep at night soothes his soul until he decides the couch is a safer place for him.

The way you weren't afraid to hold his hand when no one had ever done so before made Logan's head spin. His brain couldn't compute the sensation on another persons fingers intertwined with his in the way yours fit so perfectly between his. Like you weren't afraid of what you were arresting your hands on. Adamantium claws.

It wasn't until Logan met you, that he realised just how long it had been since he'd experienced the loving and gentle touch of a woman who truly loved him. And once that thought had materialised, Logan realised further that he'd never actually felt the gentle touch of a woman who loved him…because no woman had ever loved him before. Not like you.

“You’re still betting on losing dogs I see?” The corner of Logan's mouth curved up into a smile when you reach down to wrap your around around his shoulders. His heart skips a single best inside his chest when he felt your lips against his scruff-covered cheek.

“What can I say, I’m always a sucker for a stray.”

Ilya

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑶𝒊𝒍*

Pairing: Felix x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Oral (F), Unprotected sex (P in V), uhm I think that’s actually it? Sorry for any mistakes!

A/N: Listen- this has been in my head for awhile since he likes giving massages so please enjoy

-🖤

Sitting in on your friends couch stretching as you watching him stroll back into the room. “Y/n get your feet off my table” he said pushing your feet off. You roll your eyes looking at him “come on I was comfy” you whined throwing a pillow at him. “Yeah I almost spilled my drink” he said throwing the pillow back at you.

He slinks down plopping right beside you, sitting his cup down on the table he looks over at you. Those pretty brown eyes smiling at you “wanna order or do you want me to?” He asks. You shrug looking at him “I’m to tried to think about eating, uh my back hurts so much today” you say moving forward trying to stretch out your back. “Didn’t you go to the massage place the other day?” He asks eyebrow raising. You nod with a sigh “yeah, it didn’t help much” you say hand rubbing the back of your neck.

“How about we order food and I’ll give you a back massage while we wait?” He asks looking at his phone scrolling on DoorDash. “Lix you don’t gotta I’m just complaining” you said with a grumble leaning back against the couch. “Y/n you know I like giving massages plus you’ve worked how much this week?” He said still just staring at his phone. “Lixie you really don’t-“ you started but was quickly cut off “listen you stubborn ass you don’t get a say so” he huffed handing you his phone “now order what you want”

You rolled your eyes at his words but looked over the food menu. He has a point though, you have been working a lot. These past few weeks you’ve had overtime almost everyday. You would have probably worked today if Felix didn’t call in and give some excuse why you couldn’t. “Alright here” you said giving him his phone back. He smiled as he placed the order “alright” he said with a clap rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go to my room so you can lay down and I’ll give you the best massage you’ve ever had” he said like some anime protagonist.

You rolled your eyes but followed him back to his room, you laid down sprawling out quickly “what if I just take a nap?” You said with a relaxed sigh. He shook his head though “nuh uh I’m giving you a message end of story” he said flipping you to your stomach. He quickly straddled your back before you could protest anymore. “Y/n just relax?” He said with a huff. He started to move his hands over your back putting pressure in places he felt knots. He let out another huff stopping his movements. “Can you take your shirt off?” He asked nonchalantly.

You chuckled a bit “Felix is this your way at trying to see some tits?” You teased turning to look at him. He smacked your arms teasingly “you don’t wear a shirt normally when you get a message” he says trying to defend himself as sweet pink blush decorating his cheeks. You nodded mockingly but you did as he asked. You took your shirt off unhooking your bra you don’t even turn as your breast free. His eyes go wide eye looking down then quickly away. You laugh “come on Lixie they’re just tits” you tease. “Just lay back down” he said still trying to avoid your eyes.

You lay back down getting comfortable again as Felix takes his position again. When he straddles you again this time you can feel that he’s semi hard. His cock laying in between your ass checks. The feeling made you bite your lip a bit head spinning a bit. You moved back a bit pushing your ass again him. Felix’s eyes flutter a bit “are- are you comfortable?” He said coughing to clear his throat. You nod putting your head down hiding the grin plastered on your face. You can feel him getting harder, the way he’s positioned so close to your cunt is driving you crazy.

Felix leans forward pushing himself against you more as his hands push on your back. You leave out a soft groan at the pressure but also at the feeling of him. God you could feel yourself becoming soaked your head filling with scenarios making you even more turned on. You pushed back more making Felix moan a bit his hands gripped at your sides trying to steady himself. “Y/n.. stop moving” he said breathily. You didn’t listen though you moved your body back against his again letting out a soft moan at the feeling of him.

Felix’s hands gripped at your hips, his head falling back a bit at the friction. He was fully hard now cock nestled so perfectly against your ass. As you moved again you were met with Felix pushing forward as well. You both let out a groan at the feeling. He leaned down towards your his body pressing softly against yours. He moved against you grinding his cock against your plush ass moaning into your ear. He left a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning back up. “Y/n..” he said softly. You looked back at him his eyes full of need but so was yours.

“Let me.. let me help you in another way” he said with a stutter. He moved you pulling your body at the edge of the bed. Legs coming to the ground as he looks at you asking for permission. You nod hooded eyes watched him as he pulled your pants down with your panties. His eyes locked on your heat your cunt glistened with lust. “T-tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable” he said eyes fluttering back to yours. You give another nod and that’s all he needed. He moved down getting on his knees as he gripped your ass spreading you apart for him. He kissed and nipped at your skin as he made his way to your cunt.

He licked a long line up your cunt, clit to hole making you groan. His eyes rolled back at the heavenly taste of you. Swiftly he moved to eating you out like a ravenous animal. His hand coming up to play with your clit as he tongue fucked you. Your legs shook around him as you let out moans making his cock twitch. “God y/n you sound as good as you taste” he said his voice deep. He sounded as if he was almost drunk “I bet you feel just as good” he groaned. He pushed a finger into you making your body jolt forward. He quickly added another pumping his them in you curling them as he hit your spots.

“Lix- gonna- fuck ima cum” you say gripping the sheets feeling your orgasm so close. “Can- can we cum together? I know I’m not gonna last long please- I need inside you wanna cum with you” you babbled out. “Yes fuck lix please fuck me, wanna cum around your cock” you whined out. Felix stood up behind you dropping his pants around his feet before lining himself at your entrance. His tip kissed at your hole before pushing deep inside you. You both moaned so loudly you think the house shook.

The feeling of his girth inside you stretching you so well as you bottomed out. He let his body lay against yours as he wrapped his arm around you before moving. His thrusts were sloppy chasing both of your highs at this point. One of his hands found your breast the other playing with your clit. He pushed deep inside you moving as you felt his cock drag against your walls. You’ve always thought lix was attractive and maybe you’ve thought about this before. For it to be happening though? Was crazy to you.

It felt right though, it felt like your cunt was made for him. Molded to him like he was a key fitting in so perfectly. His cock hit your g-spot making you almost scream his name. “Ah- fuck y/n I- fuck I’m close” he said his movements becoming faster. His hand at your clit moved more circling perfectly making your legs shake. “Lix of fuck lix please right there fuck don’t stop- gonna fuck gonna cum!” You blurted out. And he didn’t. He didn’t stop till you were seeing stars cuming hard around his cock as he road out your high he pulled out cumming all over your lower back.

It took you both a few minutes to catch your breath before Felix leaned down moving your hair kissing your neck softly. “I’m definitely more relaxed now” you said laughing a bit making him laugh too. “I’m glad” he said grabbing a towel to clean you up he grabbed one of his shirt handing it to you. His eyes widen “shit our foods been sitting outside I hope no one stole it!” He said rushing towards the door making you laugh.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, I just wanted to ask: If you end up writing something for the monsterfalls au do you think you could do something where reader helps to groom Ford or Stan's newly acquired wings and them just loving the attention and care they give them? Also, love your stories and thanks if you decide to do this.

Stan, while thinking his new appearance was great for scaring kids on Summerween, hated his stone wings that weighed like a pair of cinder blocks.

They made sleeping difficult! How do you make sleeping difficult?! Apparently becoming a stone gargoyle.

That wasn’t even the worst thing either. Ford told him once after he complained about how his wings felt itched and irritated, almost like an itch he couldn’t scratch, that his wings needed constant preening whenever necessary as to avoid such situations from happening.

However Stan couldn’t exactly reach everywhere that needed preening and grew annoyed but his saviour arrived in the form of you.

‘Doll face! Just the person I’m looking for, would you mind helping me with my wings? They’ve been a pain in my ass this entire morning and I could really use some help in getting to the spots I can’t reach.’ He says as you examined his wings, strong and durable just like him, but oddly enough were soft like clay underneath; also just like him

‘I’d be happy to help Stanley but why me? You could’ve asked the kids or even Ford to help preen.’ You asked and Stan stiffened as he remembered the fact that Ford told him about preening; it was a mating thing to display the bond between mates amongst other reasons, which was mainly why he wanted you to preen his wings for him.

Stan scratched the back of his head. ‘Eh, none of them are in the house, doing their own thing or whether and even if they were they’d probably pull out the wrong feather.’ He quickly explains himself, hoping you’d buy it.

‘Okay, why don’t you lay down on your stomach and I’ll get to work.’ You replied after a brief moment of silence and Stanley sighed in relief as he was quick to flop on his bed, displaying his beautiful wings for you to gawk at.

Ford maybe a sphinx with pretty wings but you found Stanley’s wings even prettier, they looked as though they have priceless minerals within them, glistening beneath the light. They were a beauty to behold for those who actually cared to look at them and it never failed to take your breath away. ‘Beautiful.’ You murmured to yourself as you began to gently pull out the loose stone feathers that weighted like a pebble within your hand.

Stan felt like he could’ve fallen asleep then and there with how therapeutic he felt, he could feel his wings getting lighter with each loose feather you pulled, growling lowly in content as he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the way your hands carefully navigated his sturdy wings. He could’ve told you to be a bit rougher as they were like ordinary wings, but he throughly liked the way you treated them like they were glass and the way you run your fingertips in appreciation of them while counting the minerals within them, thinking he wouldn’t notice but he did and he couldn’t help but smile softly to himself.

He could happily stay like this forever if he could but he knew he couldn’t, so Stanley will take whatever time with you he could and keep it close to his heart to remind himself that someone does care about him and his stupid stone wings.

Ford took immense care of his wings but he often forgets that he has them when he’s deep in thought, which leads to him knocking stuff over, smacking Stanley, you or the kids accidentally with them and so on.

His wings were beautiful, majestic and fluffy, unlike Stanley’s which were the colour of gunmetal or cold stone or even gravel.

So whenever he forgets that his wings needed preening, he won’t know until you point it out to him, which is what you did.

‘Ford, did you forget to preen your wings?’ You asked as Ford looks over his shoulder and at his wings, where he could obviously see there was a few feathers that needed to be removed.

‘Ah so that’s why I’ve been in such discomfort as of recently, thank you my beloved for pointing it out. I shall preen them as soon as I’m done here.’ Ford replied but you pressed your hand onto his shoulder.

‘Why don’t you let me preen your wings for you?’

Ford blushed, he has read somewhere that pressing one’s wings was a thing only done between mates, or even that of a courting ritual amongst some bird species, but not only that but preening one’s wings was also seen as a means of survival and self care of one’s being. So the thought of the of you doing his wings for him had a whole lot more meaning to him as he would very much like you to preen his wings, but feared that he might make some…noises of enjoyment from your actions.

You saw his hesitance and said. ‘I’ll be gentle but then again it is all up to you as they are your wings, that and I don’t want to see you in discomfort or pain.’

Ford’s features softened as the blush died down. ‘Okay my dear I trust you with my wings.’

You smile as you sat yourself behind him and began to get to work in easing the loose feathers as carefully as you could, making sure you weren’t using more forced them necessary while praising Ford and his beautiful wings. ‘Your wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but then again they only reflect the person blessed with such wings.’ You then sweetly kissed where his wings connect to his back, a sensitive spot for Ford, causing the man to take a sharp breath as you do so before relaxing once more.

He was a little tense to start off with but gradually Ford felt himself melt under your carful touch and caresses as he purrs low in the back of his throat, tail slowly swishing in a display of his happiness and content regarding the current situation. He knew from that moment as you placed the loose feathers into a neat pile by your feet that he didn’t want anyone else to preen his wings but you.

Then again he was never in dispute with this idea of you preening his wings, he was just a bit awkward and unsure how to ask such a task of you without it coming across too strong, or that you didn’t have a choice but to agree to preening his wings. He just wanted to spend time with you and it just so happened that his wings were also in a state of disarray when you came in, all of which was completely unplanned and purely coincidental, but Ford couldn’t help but thank fate for this moment for he would treasure it forever and always.

‘You okay Ford? I think you’re…purring.’ You spoke with a smile upon your face when you felt his tail hit against your foot, finding it adorable as the purring coming from him.

‘Yes I’m perfectly fine my dear, perfectly fine.’ Ford reassured with a smile upon his face. ‘Perfectly fine indeed.’

[myzticbean]

Cat!Dad Series: You're My "Maine" Squeeze

Pairing: Qin Che | Sylus / MC (fem! reader) Tags: Super fluff, established relationship, cute cats, domestic bliss Can also read at A03

Previous posts in the Cat!Dad series:

Zayne: Quit kitten around - let's celebrate

Title: You’re My “Maine” Squeeze

Wrapping my arms around Sylus, I rest my hands against the motorcycle’s tank as it rockets down the dark street. I slip a hand under his leather jacket as we both lean into the tight corner, disappearing into the condo’s underground private entrance. The motorcycles that had been following us blew past, unaware we had already made our getaway. 

I laugh, a little giddy from the rush of adrenaline at the chase and successful escape (ahem, joyride), hugging his broad back and resting my helmet between his shoulder blades as he slows and parks the bike. 

“I told you it would be fun,” Sylus says calmly after he pulls off his helmet. I tug mine off as well, my bun squished to my head and tangled flyaway hairs sticking to my face, but I know I’m still grinning from ear to ear. 

“Another successful mission with my criminal mastermind partner,” I chuckle, shaking my hair out of the hair tie before throwing it back up into a ponytail. I swing my leg over and hop off the bike, and he stands as well, wrapping me in his arms in a quick hug. 

We wear matching black leather jackets, my curb stomping boots laced up over black jeans, and a custom thigh holster holding my (not-quite-legal) gun. I lean into his embrace, lifting my face to smile smugly at him.

“Admit it, I definitely helped you a lot this time.”

“You literally started a fight and got us thrown out -- of my own club,” he answers sardonically, tightening his grip around my shoulders and waist. But he can’t hide the lip twitch of amusement and the softness in his gaze as he stares down at me. 

“You needed to hire better help anyways,” I say airily, stepping out of his embrace and flicking a strand of my ponytail back over my shoulder saucily. “That they didn’t even recognize their boss…tut.”

“You do realize most people shouldn’t recognize me, otherwise it defeats the purpose of being the mysterious leader of an underground organization,” he responds dryly, locking the steering on his bike and grabbing the straps of our helmets in one hand. 

“That they didn’t even recognize your dark, dangerous, and sensual aura and let you do whatever you wanted is just a crime against nature,” I answer cheekily. I open my mouth to continue my teasing despite his grimace, when the hissing and howling of cats interrupts me.

As we neared the elevators, I saw a couple of cats brawling, two smaller dark colored tomcats wrestling a dirty, fluffy, absolute monster of a cat. Even while clearly outnumbered, it was holding its own and about to turn the tide of the fight when another cat appeared, intent on jumping into the fray. 

“Oh no,” I say, taking an unconscious step forward. I wasn’t sure how to intervene without getting scratched to holy hell when an empty can was suddenly thrown from behind, clattering as it pelted one of the dark cats on top. 

It screamed, not that it was actually hurt, but more in surprise as it backed off of the giant cat on the bottom. Without waiting, the big cat sprang to its feet, roaring like a tiny lion and racing forward aggressively. 

The tomcat didn’t bother waiting around to see if it could take the big cat on - it scrambled to its feet and raced away, the other cats following close behind. The bigger cat stopped, sitting on the ground in exhaustion, bloody scratch marks on its face, back and ears. 

“You poor thing,” I murmur, squatting down to try to get a closer look. It would probably be pretty skittish, especially if it has been a feral, unneutered male used to roaming the streets of the N109 zone and surviving. 

It turns to look at me at the sound of my voice, its tail flicking back and forth as it surveys me from where it sits on the cold concrete. “I wonder if he’ll let us take care of his wounds,” I say to Sylus who stands behind me, his hand propped casually on one hip as he looks between me and the cat.

“It’s a tom, probably not,” he answers.

“I tamed you,” I say a little tongue-and-cheek as I glance at him slyly over my shoulder. 

“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “I might argue it was the other way around, kitten.”

“Here kitty, kitty,” I whisper, flicking my fingers at him. I moved to kneel down on one knee, not moving closer, but holding my hand out in case he wants to come over for a sniff.

The cat didn’t deign to move closer, but also doesn’t seem afraid or inclined to scamper away from us. He just peers at me with intent yellow eyes, his fluffy tail flipping back and forth as if to lure me in with the promise of touching it.

I can’t help myself -- I shuffle forward a little bit, my hand still outreached, wanting to see if he’ll let me get close enough to at least take a better look at his scrapes. He’s certainly not afraid - his watchful eyes are flickering all around. 

“Look at this handsome boy,” I croon, voice pitched a little lower, trying to entice him to take a step towards me. I wish I had some food for him. 

Sylus just sighs behind me. 

“Ignore him, kitty,” I suggest, trying to stifle a giggle when I see the cat’s yellow eyes briefly dart behind me before locking back onto mine. “You are definitely the biggest, most handsome cat on the block. If you come juuuust a little closer, I want to make sure you haven’t been hurt.”

The cat yawns, his sharp teeth on full display before he licks his nose and gives me a blink. 

“That’s right, big guy. You know I won’t hurt you.” 

Sylus suddenly chuckles behind me. “Let’s do this a little faster, shall we?” Without pausing, he activates his Evol, wrapping the cat in red and black swirls of color and lifting it into the air. It yowls in immediate displeasure, thrashing and kicking.

“Oh, don’t-” I try to say, before Sylus deposits it in my arms, though still wrapped up and held immobile by his power.

It freezes, looking up into my face, while I peer down at him. “It’s okay, kitty, I won’t hurt you,” I say soothingly. I resist the urge to pet it - it’s trapped and can’t escape, and my touch could do more harm than good. Instead I hold him close against me, cradling him gently in my arms as Sylus guides me towards our private elevator. 

We ascend to the penthouse as I’m trying to look over his wounds - with his thick hair, it doesn’t seem like he sustained too much damage, but I wouldn’t be sure until I could investigate more thoroughly. He is, however, extremely dirty and covered in fleas, which I can see crawling through the dirty fuzz. 

“He needs a bath,” I say, looking him over. “Do you think we should take him to a vet instead?”

Sylus scoffs quietly behind me as we enter our private floor. “I’ll make a call.” 

“My rich boyfriend is so strong and powerful,” I laugh, walking further into the condo and heading towards the bathroom. 

“Do we have any of that blue dish soap?” I call out as I settle the cat down in the shower. I need to grab a towel, and with Sylus’ Evol still activated, he won’t be able to move too much. I kick off my shoes and socks and grab a few fluffy dark towels from underneath the sink, whispering to the cat as I reach for one of the handheld shower heads. Since the shower is big enough for 10 people, the cat is safely outside of the spray as I test out the water and let it warm up.

“What a good boy you are,” I croon, kneeling down by the cat once the temperature has been adjusted, gently allowing the warm water to soak into his fur. The cat gives a grimace and gnashes his teeth, but otherwise doesn’t fight it. 

“Yes, you’re so smart, what a sweet kitty you are. You were definitely going to win. It was three-on-one, and look how strong and brave you were…” I ramble on and on as I soak him from the neck down, gently carding my fingers through his fur to try to get him completely wetted. 

Sylus walks in with a bottle of the dish soap, rolling his eyes a little at my running commentary. “I’m worried about you, sweetie,” he says lightly, squatting by the shower entrance and setting down the soap bottle. 

“Hush,” I say, fighting back a smile as I throw a mock-glare over my shoulder. “Squeeze me,” I say, holding out one palm.

“I wish,” he mutters before he obliges, squirting a heaping handful of soap.

I soap my palms together and get to work, thoroughly (but gently) cleaning up the poor, battered cat. His cuts and scrapes aren’t bad, but I’m careful to avoid getting too much soap in those areas to avoid any stinging. I keep speaking to the cat, voice low and calm, and he doesn’t otherwise flinch at being doused in water and soap.

“I wonder if he was someone’s pet?” I question thoughtfully. “He’s too well behaved for a feral cat.”

Sylus just hums but doesn’t say anything, his Evol still containing the cat though it’s obvious the animal isn’t fighting it. I make sure to wash off as much of the dirt and fleas as I can, rinsing and repeating one more time, and the amount of dirt pooling beneath the two of us turned the pale gray tile completely black. 

But as the cat emerges, clean and victorious, I’m astounded to see a pure white beauty in its majestic display. “He’s so handsome,” I gasp, gently drying him off with a soft towel. 

“I know, you’ve already mentioned it many times,” Sylus says dryly, but the humor glinting in his ruby-colored eyes is obvious. “I always knew you’d be a cat person.”

“You call me kitten often enough, I thought it was obvious,” I say, smiling playfully. 

It’s quiet again for a moment as I finish drying the cat off, before noting, “I don’t think he’s seriously hurt, but he had fleas and could use a check up.” 

As if waiting for my remark, the doorbell chimes, announcing a visitor. I look over at Sylus, who has climbed to his feet and casually strolls out of the bathroom. 

I reach out, cradling the cat in a new clean towel and exit the bathroom and into the living room where a man with a black kit is waiting for us. Without much expression and with almost no conversation, he takes the cat from my arms and begins his check up, and the cat -- who is still held by the black strands -- immediately begins to meow and scream non-stop.

“Oh, poor baby,” I whisper, clenching my hands but unable to help. I look on in concern, trying not to react as the impersonal vet quickly doctors the cat’s wounds and gives him a few shots. 

“He’ll be fine in a few days. I’ve given him his vaccinations, and a pill that will help kill off the remaining fleas.” 

“What kind of cat is he?” I ask, the cat looking even larger as the fur dries.

“I’d guess Maine Coon based on his size and features,” the vet says. “You can do a DNA test if you want to know for sure.”

“Will he get bigger or is he fully grown?”

The man lifted the cat’s lips, checking his teeth. “He’s a young cat, maybe still under a year old, so I would guess he’s still growing. Maine Coons can keep growing until they are around two years old.”

He gives me a few instructions on how to continue caring for the animal, and without much fanfare, leaves. 

“Let’s let him free now,” I murmur to Sylus after setting him down on the floor. Sylus releases his Evol, and the cat slowly stands, taking a few steps and sniffing the air. 

“He’s so cute,” I sigh, watching him tentatively explore his new surroundings. 

“He better not pee on anything until we can get him neutered,” Sylus mutters. “We’ll never get the smell out.”

I reach out, wrapping my arms around his waist and nuzzling into his chest. “You’re so wonderful,” I say, content and a little tired. The doorbell rings again, and I lift my head off his chest to look up at his face, puzzled. 

He motions for me to go, saying, “Get in the shower, I’ll get him settled. The twins brought some supplies.”

I smile in relief, giving him another squeeze, and silently beg for a kiss as I stand on my toes and lift my face. He cups my chin, brushing warm lips over mine in a chaste kiss. He gives me a second kiss on my forehead.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “I’ll join you soon.”

More than a week has passed since we rescued the cat. I’ve had to travel to and from Linkon for work, but Sylus never asks if I am going to take the cat with me or drop it off at the shelter. Instead, the cat seems to settle into the plush penthouse as if he had never lived a life on the outside, his kingly attitude right at home in the dark, romantic surroundings. 

After arriving a little later than I expected, I put my overnight bag away in the bedroom before I grab one of the new cat toys lying about. It’s a stick with a feather dangling from a string, and I flick it around on the floor and up in the air, laughing aloud as the cat makes a daring leap trying to catch it. 

“You can do it, Junior,” I cheer as he stretches out his paws, dagger-like nails exposed. Mephisto caws angrily in the corner, pacing back and forth on his stand as he watches the playful cat. They’ve been sassing each other all week, with the kitty missing chunks of hair and Mephisto decidedly more ruffled looking with mechanical feathers lying twisted on the ground. 

The door opens and Sylus walks in just in time to hear me, raising his eyebrows as he comes towards me carrying a couple of shopping and garment bags. 

“Please don’t tell me that name means what I think it means?” he sighs.

I start giggling and the cat takes a flying leap, tackling me to the ground. I ooph out a rush of air, his heavy body colliding with mine as I clutch him to my belly and roll backwards. Sylus drops the bags into the couch and strides over, grabbing the cat by the scruff of the neck and tossing him (somewhat gently) onto the coffee table. He reaches down, helping me to my feet as I fight off a giddy laugh. 

“It’s exactly what you think,” I answer, a sly smile twisting my lips as I reach down to pat Junior on the top of his head, his large, fuzzy ears twisting to catch our voices. “He looks just like his daddy, after all…”

“I did not, in fact, sire a cat. But if my little kitten is so inclined to have her own litter, I could be persuaded.”

I burst out laughing, pushing at his shoulder (he didn’t budge). “I’m not ready for a baby right now. Baby making, however…”

His eyes glint in the light, strangely dark as he locks his gaze onto mine, tugging me closer and into a tight embrace. He leans down, nuzzling his face into my neck, arms wrapped around my waist. “Let’s go practice now,” he suggests, teeth nipping gently at my skin in blatant invitation. 

I sigh, languid from the pleasure that courses up my spine as he trails long fingers down my back in a slow caress. He kisses me tenderly, tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before I open to let him in, our tongues pressing against each other in unhurried exploration. We’ve kissed hundreds of times, but each press of his lips to mine brings a fresh wash of affection and excitement.

I lift my arms to wrap around his neck, falling deeper into his kiss, but a demanding howl from the coffee table shatters the moment. I look down, meeting the irritated eyes of the cat staring back at me. “Sorry, Junior. You shouldn’t be watching mommy and daddy like this.”

Sylus stifles a long exhale before he reaches down, adjusting himself, and steps away back towards the bags. I follow along with interest, trying to peek into the bags, but he covers it up. 

“You can open this one now,” he says, holding out a shopping bag. “I’ll show you the others later.”

I look with interest at the other handful of bags and garment bags, but don’t press. I’ve learned that any surprise from Sylus is well worth the wait. Instead, I tear open the bag and read the brand name on the box. “Evol CommuniCollar?” I question, looking up at him in surprise. “Aren’t these ridiculously expensive?”

He scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe if you’re not me.”

I roll my eyes. “You are such a snob sometimes.” I eagerly read the description. “It says here that it can translate everything your pet says into human language. This is so cool!”

I sit down and start fumbling to open the box, tearing off the flap corners in my haste to get it open. “Oops, I hope we don’t need to return this,” I say. He looks completely unconcerned as he settles on the couch next to me, as Junior perches politely on the coffee table near my knee, tail swishing back and forth. 

Reading the instructions, I open my phone and download the app as Sylus checks the battery charge on the collar. I fill in Junior’s information, noting his suggested breed and age in the settings. While Sylus isn’t watching, I set the AI voice to one of my favorite male celebrities that is (surprisingly) available in the list. 

Sylus gently adjusts it around the cat’s neck, making sure his fur isn’t being pulled or tangled, and gives him a single pat on the head.

Junior is still watching Sylus and gives a tiny meow, and the collar suddenly beeps, a deep, masculine AI-voice is clearly projecting from the collar. “Father.”

I gasp, practically swooning on the couch. “He knows you’re his dad,” I squeal, covering my mouth to hide the huge grin. Sylus looks taken aback, one eyebrow raised as he stares down at the cat that is still looking up at him. He obviously recognizes the voice when I see his sidelong glance at me. 

I hurriedly continue reading the instructions. “While animals may not experience the same family bonds, environmental stimulus, language or emotional capacity that humans do, they’ve been able to map the closest electrical triggers to feelings that we can understand.”

I laugh a little. “So I guess he knows you aren’t his birth father. Maybe you’re his step-dad.”

The kitty looks at me chuckling on the couch, attention flicking back and forth, and as he looks at me directly, he gives a single, long blink. “Wife.” The masculine voice is low and rumbly as he purrs a little.

My mouth drops open, and I don’t dare to look at Sylus. I’m trying desperately to stifle a cackle of mischievous delight, and I reach out to stroke my hand along his back. 

“No,” Sylus says, reaching out to catch my hand. “Don’t reward him for bad behavior.”

“How is he being bad?” I ask, choking on my laughter. I’m trying not to cry, eyes welling up as I gasp for breath.

“This collar is defective. Let’s throw it away,” he says resolutely, reaching out a hand to unclasp the collar from the cat before I bat his hand away.

“Don’t you dare. This is priceless.” I try to be stern, but my quivering lips and definitely giving it away.

He looks slightly irritated but does take his hands away and folds his arms across his chest. I turn back to the cat, giving him a little scritch behind one fluffy ear, and he closes his eyes, rumbling in pleasure. 

“Feels good. It’s itchy,” the cat collar says in its low, dulcet tones. “Wife. Wife.” The purrs get a little louder when I switch to the other ear.

“No, I’m your mom,” I correct, and the collar gives another little beep with tiny rumbling noises as if to translate what I said.

“No, not mother. Wife,” the cat collar responds, and the cat blinks up at me again, holding eye contact. 

I cover my mouth to hide my laughter when I see Sylus stiffen up beside me. “No, I’m your mother. And this is your dad,” I say, pointing to Sylus. “I’m his wife.”

I pretend I don’t see Sylus whip his head around to look at me. I’m trying to make a point to a cat, and this is the easiest way to get it across. How would a cat understand human dating behavior? 

The cat looks obviously disgruntled as the collar makes more translation noises. His tail lashes angrily back and forth, and he turns his head away from me, obviously not agreeing to my words. 

I lean forward, giving him a little kiss on his forehead, ignoring his mew of unhappiness. “I love you so much, my handsome little guy. You’re the bestest boy, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I’m the best cat. Better than the bird,” the collar agrees, and the cat turns to nuzzle his head into my chin.

I pepper little kisses all over his cute little cat face. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I’m hungry. I’d like dinner, please. I want the fish one. The wet food, not the crunch food.” 

“Oh, you like the tuna more than the chicken? You should really eat the kibble too, it’s better for your teeth if you can eat some crunchy food,” I say, and we walk into the kitchen, chatting together. 

Sylus leans back against the couch cushions, sighing as scrubs one hand over his face before climbing to his feet and going to store away the bags.

Junior and I chatter back and forth, his sentences slowly becoming longer and more in-depth the more the collar was used. 

He finally finishes his food and I ask to gently wipe his face and whiskers with a clean towel, and he happily obliges, purring loudly as I clean him up. We walk together back into the living room, where Sylus has once more taken a seat on the couch, the fireplace crackling and the low throb of classical music coming from the record player. 

“Father,” Junior murmurs, leaping onto the couch and then clambering into Sylus’ lap (uninvited, but also undeterred). I smile, nestling into his side as he raises an arm and pulls me in closer. 

“Father, play with me. Play with me,” the cat begs, raising one paw and tapping it against Sylus’ chest. 

I try to bite back a smile, shifting away slightly so I can quickly snap a photo. Sylus resigns himself, reaching down to flick one furry ear before he tugs gently at a whisker. The cat grows ever more exasperated as he tries to bat away Sylus’ hand, who snaps his fingers and conjures up a handful of black feathers dusting along Junior’s head and back. 

“You wanted to play, and now you’re mad?” Sylus asks, listening to the cat muttering profanities (with the help of the collar) and hiding a small smile. 

Finally the cat huffs and flops down, and the feathers immediately disappear. We both look down at the large cat stretching himself along the length of Sylus’ thighs, Junior’s head resting closer to his stomach. I reach out, giving him a scritch as I nuzzle into Sylus’ broad shoulder.

Sylus presses a tender kiss to my forehead as he sweeps one long-fingered hand down the back of the cat in a soothing, absent-minded stroke. He drops his head, feathering kisses across the bridge of my nose and cheeks, before pressing a deeper, sweeter kiss to my lips. 

“So about that litter of kittens you mentioned…” I pull away to whisper into his ear as Junior finally settles and little snores start to emerge. 

Activating his Evol, he carries that cat over to his bed, settling him into the cushions lightly while he stands and hefts me over his shoulder. “Practice makes perfect, sweetie,” he purrs, striding into the bedroom and shutting the door while I try to muffle my giggles.

Junior licks his lips, snuggling deeper into his bed and drifting off into an even deeper, satisfied sleep.

Cat image source

[samandcolbyownme]

POOKIE WHEN ARE WE GETTING SOME MORE COLBY FICS IM DYINGGGGG (in all seriousness I'm not tryna rush you but pleaseeee just think about writing some more soon it's been like a month I've already re-read them all like 3 times 😭🤚)

I am thankful you chose to re-read my stuff, but here!! Here’s some new Colby smut 🖤

DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is going to contain reader cheating on boyfriend with Colby. I do not condone cheating, it’s horrible. This is strictly for fanfiction entertainment purposes only!!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, cheating, flirting, mentions of people being drunk, kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, general filth

Word Count: 1.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Alright.” You sighed as you help up the weight of Leo, your beyond plastered boyfriend, “Come on, just a few more steps, okay?”

Leo groans, mumbling some incoherent words as he slowly lifts his legs onto each step.

“Okay, just-“ you huff, “Lean.. up against, yeah.” You push him back against the wall by the door and fumble to quickly get the house key attached to his key ring.

You drop them and Leo leans forward, “I’ll get’em.”

He leans too far and about knocks you both off of the porch, but the banister saves you from going back, “Leo, stand back up. I have to un-“

The door open and Colby, Leo’s roommate walks out, “I thought I heard something out here, what’s-“

You cut him off, pushing Leo up to stand, “He’s wasted. Again.”

Leo stumbles backwards, “You.. say, that. Like it’s a ba-“ he hiccups, “Bad things..”

Colby grabs him before he can move back any further, “Alright, man. Let’s get you upstairs to your bed, yeah?” Colby glances at you and you shake your head, “I’ll be in. I just-“

“Oh come on! Y/n, cheer up! It’s a p-party!” Leo slurs, “Come to bed with me!”

“I’ll.. be there in a second. I’m going to get you some water and medicine for in the morning.” You walk in behind them and go straight for the kitchen.

Colby laughs as he watches Leo stumble up the steps, “C’mon man. You gotta lift-“ he laughs, “Lifts your legs, dude. There ya go.”

You shake your head, laughing slightly as you open the fridge door. You grab two bottles of water, turning around to set them on the counter before you close the door.

You walk over to the medicine cabinet and reach up to grab the Tylenol. Your fingers push it back and you let out a frustrated sigh as you drop down from your tip toes.

“Need some help?”

Colby startles you for a second, “Oh, um. Yeah.” You laugh quietly, “You scared me. Figured you’d be up there for a little.”

“I’m pretty sure he was asleep before he even hit the bed.” Colby walks over and reaches up, big body right next to yours as he reaches up, “Here you go.”

You take the bottle and set it down, “Thanks.”

He leans against the counter, his hand resting on top, “I don’t..” he sighs, “Stop me if I cross a line, but.. isn’t this his fourth night in a row getting wasted like this? I mean I’m not trying to judge.. or anything, but-“

“Yeah.” You cut him off, scoffing as you lay a hand on your forehead, “Yeah.”

Colby stays silent and you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “I’ve tried talking to him.. I-I- I’ve tried telling him that drinking isn’t-“ you shake your head, “Colby.” Your voice breaks, “What.. what do I do?”

He tilts his head, raising his brows as he shrugs, “Whatever you want, y/n. I don’t think-“

“No, Colby. Please. I need someone to tell me something.” You turn towards him and he turns his head towards you, staring at you while he thinks.

“Please.” Your voice is a whisper and Colby reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “I think someone out there can treat you better, someone who has gotten to know you without actually being with you.”

He steps closer, “I think I could treat you better than he can.” He bends down, lifting you up onto the counter, and it’s game over.

His lips are on yours.

Your hands sliding his shirt up his body.

His hands working to pull your shorts down as you move your hips side to side.

“You woke up at three in the morning, might as well make it worth it, yeah?” Colby mumbles as he leans back, discarding his shirt to the floor.

“Just..” you pull him back in, kissing him as you spread your legs and push his sweats down, “Shut up and fuck me.”

He smirks and pulls up into the edge of the counter, his lips on yours as he pulls your panties to the side and thrusts into you.

You throw your head back, one arm around his neck, your other hand flat on the countertop next to you.

“Oh my-“ you lay your forehead against his chest, biting down onto your lip as he thrusts roughly into you.

“Look at me, look at me.” Colby groans, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back, “You deserve so much better than what you’re getting. You hear me?”

You nod, mouth open as your eyes roll back.

“Words, baby.” Colby wraps your hair around his head, gaining full control. You whimper, eyes opening to look at him, “I deserve so much better.”

You swallow, “You can be my better.”

“I’ll kick him out tomorrow.” Colby bites down on his lip, watching as your face twists and turns with the best pleasure you’ve ever received, “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You gasp, your walls clenching around him as you reach the edge, “F-fuck, Colby. Colby.” Your nails dig into his skin, creating red trails as they drag across his shoulders, “Y-yes!”

Colby’s lips press against yours as he tries to silence your moans, “quiet, princess.”

“He’s passed out. Probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.” You pant, “Fuck, Colby. I-I’m-“ you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you finally spill over into that euphoric feeling that you’ve been seeking.

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me. I got you.” Colby whispers, “Fuck, y-you- fuck.” He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your thigh, “Shit, shit.”

You rest your head back against the closed cupboards, “That..” you laugh slightly, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Colby fixes his sweats and walks away for a second.

You lay a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes, “That..” you take a deep breath, laughing away the tears, “Oh fuck.”

Colby steps towards you, wiping off your leg with a towel, “Sorry if I-“

“No, oh god no.” You look up at him, “I don’t..” you take a deep breath, “I don’t regret this, I just.. the timing.. of it..”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, “Yeah, no, I completely get it. But I’m sorry if I made you feel-“

“Colby.” You cut him off, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you want to know why?”

He looks up at you, “Tell me, baby.”

You smirk, tilting your head, “Because you have treated me better in these last few months than Leo has. Everytime I’ve hung out here, you were always the one to offer me a drink or food or whatever the case may be.”

“Leo is an immature little boy and I’m just glad we both realized what kind of person he is before he fucked over either one of us over.” He tucks hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead, “Sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

You nod, “Already planned on it, but thank you.” You smirk and slip down off the counter, bending down to grab your shorts and fix your panties, “I’m just.. scared how he’ll react you know.”

Colby nods, “I’ll be there, I mean, if you want me to be.”

You nod, “Please, at least hide upstairs or something? I’ll tell him you went out with Sam or.. whatever.”

Colby fights back a smile and you tilt your head, “What?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing, I just..” he walks over, wrapping his arms around you, “Just thinking about after he leaves, how much sex we’re going to have.”

You laugh, “Colby.”

“What? Celebration sex, ya know?”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

I feel like this kinda sucked but aw well. Let me know what you think! I love you all so much. Thanks for reading and I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you.

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety, unresolved angst (maybe)

A/N: (guys this is my first fic so please bear with me😭 l would love some feedback or tips though!!)

I was sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone and channel surfing, waiting for my boyfriend, Matt, to get back from filming a car video with his brothers, Chris and Nick. But over the course of the last couple of months, Matt has been distant and there was a rather uncomfortable feeling sitting in my chest. He would make up excuses as to why he couldn't hang out with me like he was filming, editing or streaming. It made me overthink. Did I do something? Does he still love- No, of course he still loves me. Right?

It was all too much and it gave me anxiety. Sure, I understand his career as a Youtuber can be a handful but I can't help but feel a bit neglected and it makes me feel guilty.. I sit there thinking for a moment, taking in the cool autumn smell that roamed through the house, listening to the patter of the soft rain drops falling onto the windows, trying to think of a way that I could get Matt to spend time with me.

I decide to cook a nice dinner for matt and I or at least attempt to, so I stand up and I head to the kitchen and decide on some ravioli which takes me about an hour but I did it.

Flashback

"What are you gonna get to eat?" | asked Matt.

"I'm not sure.. you know for a fancy restaurant, you'd think they'd have a variety of options." He says before raising his eyebrow at me, showing me the menu and we both chuckle.

"Our first date and i'm already messing up huh?" He says with a nervous chuckle.

"What?? No! you're not messing up i'm having fun." I said with a smile, reaching over the table to hold his hand and he gave me a lighthearted smile.

"Ravioli is the only decent thing they got here, think i'll go with that." He says closing the menu. "See? It's not all that bad, I just so happen to love ravioli. I think I can go for some too.” I smile.

Present

I set up the table with bowls and utensils before making my way to the bathroom and realize that look a bummy mess so l spend the rest of the time I had left before he got back to make myself look at least a little presentable. I feel an overwhelming but nice sense of excitement to spend time with him again. I change into a casual but nice outfit and decide to do a simple and natural makeup look.

I soon hear the sound of the front door opening and chattering following behind it. I make my way out of the room to greet Matt who was laughing with chris and nick.

"Hey baby! How was filming??" | say almost too enthusiastically but I was too excited to keep my cool. "It was alright." He says nonchalantly, which makes me turn my happy demeanor down a notch.

Chris goes downstairs to get ready for something and Nick goes upstairs to do the same. Leaving matt and I alone which was perfect so I take the chance.

"I made-" before I could say anything Matt interrupted me. "Hey, me nick and chris are gonna go to top golf with madi, and nate so I might be home a little late." My heart sinks and i'm flushed with dread but I don't give up so easily.

"Well I actually made dinner for us.. I was hoping we could spend a little time together since we haven't in a while." | say fiddling with my necklace getting a bit anxious.

"I'm sure it's amazing baby but I should go get ready, Save me some yeah?" He says, placing a gentle kiss on my temple before he walks towards our shared bedroom to get ready.

I sit at the table where our food is now cold and I feel a lump in my throat followed by a cold sinking feeling in my chest.

658 words.

A/N: (This is sloppy and I kind of hate it, js wanted to try this out to see what yall think. if you guys like it, i'll keep writing, if not then im never writing again and since it's my first fic I kept it short but if you guys like it, i'll make the next parts longer 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @imwetforyourmom

[macabr3-barbi3]

a request, a need, a plea even:

shotgun kiss with human!alastor

ANON I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX SINCE MAY 😭 I PROMISE I NEVER FORGOT ABOUT YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY

The air is cold when you step outside the diner, fingers trembling and goosebumps erupting along your arms. You had claimed it was for a smoke break, but really you just needed to get out of the building for a moment- the loud, boisterous group that had taken up residence at one of your tables had been grating on your nerves all night, and you knew they weren’t going to tip well, so you just needed a break. You had forgotten your cigarettes at home, and your fingers itch to actually hold one between them, but you would take whatever reprieve you could get. 

Gravel crunches nearby, and you turn to see a man step into the alleyway behind the diner with you. Tall, lean muscles and a mop of dark, curly hair, you greet Alastor with a smile as you always did. He gives you a wave, soft and timid as he approaches, like you haven’t had weeks of time to get to know one another on your smoke breaks during work; you from the diner, him from the broadcast station across the alley.

You make polite conversation for the better part of your break, talking about his most recent shows and the reporting that he had been doing on the serial killer in New Orleans a couple towns over. As always, the air is amicable and comfortable between the two of you while he smokes down towards the butt of his cigarette. It was always nice to spend time with him- he was polite, charming, and handsome as the Devil himself. Who could blame a gal for falling a little bit in love?

Your coworker steps out and lets you know that your table had skipped out without paying, shooting a wink your way when she notices Alastor with you, and the need for a nicotine hit increases tenfold; you’re ashamed to admit to fluttering your lashes coyly at him. “Alastor, you mind if I bum one of those off you?” You ask him demurely, gesturing to the cigarette he holds as he brings it to his lips and to the light.

“Ah, haven’t you learned to keep your own on hand after all this time? I’m afraid this is my last one, my dear,” he says, and your heart sinks while you watch him blow rings into the cool air of the night. “Don’t look so put out,” he chuckles, stepping closer and wrapping a hand around your waist- the shock of it prevents you from putting up any real fight against it, relishing in the warmth that greets you when he pulls you into his chest. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t share.” He takes another strong suck of the cigarette and leans down into your personal space, hand coming up from your waist to coax your lips open with his thumb before he slides it into your hair.

He cranes his neck to meet at your height, lips just barely brushing yours before he’s exhaling smoke into your mouth; you inhale greedily, the sweet buzz of the nicotine mixing with something spicy and dark, so unmistakably Alastor that it makes your head swim. He’d never been so forward before, had never even asked you out to a bar or to dance before, and here he was pressing your lips together like it was second nature to share the air in one another’s lungs. It burns in your veins in the best way possible.

The motion is repeated, over and over with the ash of the cigarette dropping down over his fingers as he puffs and breathed them into you. Your own hands come up to clutch at the fabric of his shirt, like without it you might simply drop to the floor. He doesn’t seem to mind the way your lashes flutter every time he backs off for normal oxygen once again, his own eyes half-lidded and dilated with every pass that the smoke takes between the two of you.

His tongue flicks against yours as he pulls away the final time; the cigarette has burned down to the end, and his usual smile is back in place. “How was that?” Alastor asks softly, using the hand that had parted your lips to cup your cheek, gazing down at you in the dim glow of the streetlight. “You think that was enough of a hit?”

“I- I think I might need another,” you manage to breathe out, and he laughs low and dark, the remnants of the cigarette dropping to the ground where he grinds it in with his heel as he holds you close to him and leans in for a proper, smokeless kiss.

[jesncin]

The Potential of Asian Lois Lane: An extra addition

A bonus addition to my Asian Lois essay. I know Lois Chaudhari isn't technically a Lois since the premise of the comic she's from is where the Superman mythos is fictional and the characters in it happen to be named Clark/Lois etc. But since she's a Lois stand in and romantic partner to the Clark Kent of that story, I figured she deserves an honorable mention at least.

Here's where I position her in my Spectrum of Asian Lois Lane chart. And I'd like to talk about her!

Compared to American Alien, this Lois is actually specific and textually Indian in Superman: Secret Identity. Unlike American Alien Lois (that never specified what kind of Asian Lois was), she can't be replaced as a white woman because the text acknowledges her Indian identity (her name, lines of dialogue like this, etc.) hence she's not interchangeable with whiteness. So this take has that going for it.

Where Lois Chaudhari still falls behind Girl Taking Over (and what it shares in common with American Alien) is yet again a sense of missed opportunities narratively.

In Superman: Secret Identity, a man named Clark Kent from Picketsville suddenly has Superman's powers. After years of being made fun of for his namesake, he suddenly is what everyone has been making fun of him for- and as he lives through life he slowly understands why fictional!Superman is the way he is. It's a great story but where it misses the mark for me is its failure to recognize Superman as an immigrant. Secret Identity's Clark isn't an alien immigrant, or a human immigrant, and is instead ostracized because of his name. Government baddies want to do experiments on him so he has to hide from them too. But then he meets city girl Lois Chaudhari, and they connect because people keep teasing them for their names and Lois knows what it's like to keep secrets because she,,, committed a crime as a teen once.

"I guess we're both dangerous felons, then. Public menaces."

Being hunted by the government and being experimented on isn't really the same as being caught shoplifting.

It works well enough as a connection but to me is a huge missed opportunity to have an Indian American relate to your Superman stand-in as an immigrant. To connect on a deeper level other than "people make fun of us for sharing names with fictional characters". Later in the story, Clark and Lois have twin daughters who are visibly Indian. They too, have Superman's powers. While we're treated extensively to the narrative showing us why Clark would hide his powers from the government wishing to seek harm on him, we never get to see what Clark's daughters have to deal with on top of being visibly non-white.

Superman as an alien immigrant is an anecdote in this story. Because after all, that's not what a white American man from Picketsville would find relatable about him, is it? I have the same thing to say about Secret Identity that I did with American Alien: "Clark isn’t the only American Alien in American Alien, if you catch my drift."

I think this story is the perfect encapsulation of the limits of a white writer. One of my hottest takes on Superman is that the best and most holistic take on his character doesn't exist in the white imagination. Take a look once more at the Spectrum of Asian Lois Lanes chart that I made. All save for Girl Taking Over were headed by white men (MAWS may have Asian directors and writers on their team but ultimately its pitch and main ideas are the brain child of Jake Wyatt, a white man).

People have taken issue with me saying this and assume that I mean white people can't write a good Superman story, and no. That's not what I'm saying. I like Superman: Secret Identity. I even like American Alien. But it's been 80 years of predominantly white writers of all backgrounds getting the chance to write Superman- and already multiple attempts at an Asian Lois- and yet it took until Gene Yang (and artists Gurihiru) with Smashes the Klan and Sarah Kuhn (and artist Arielle Jovellanos) with Girl Taking Over that I felt Superman's themes as an immigrant finally took center stage and weren't just a mention or anecdote.

In no way do I want to imply that getting writers of color or Asian writers specifically will mean you'll be guaranteed a great Superman story. I'm against promoting the idea that diverse talent is infallible or tokenizing and essentializing them in such a way. What I am saying is that the best and most holistic story on Superman as an alien immigrant isn't even a goal in the white imagination. Immigrant Superman doesn't live in that mind. He doesn't pay rent there. He doesn't stop by to visit. And no, Superman creators Shuster and Siegel wouldn't have written that story either. Superman may have been the "Champion of the Oppressed" from another planet under their pen, but he would never have related to or have had immigrant solidarity with America's perpetual foreigners the way Smashes the Klan portrayed him as having. Superman's creators were too busy writing Slam Bradley to be able to write that kind of Superman.

The appeal of these cape characters for me, is the process of adaptation. Seeing them be handed off to someone else with different life experience. Seeing them bring a whole new perspective that surpasses even the creator's intentions on their character. That's what makes these characters rich and worthy of constant revisits. I just think that people of different backgrounds should be able to get as many chances as white men have with writing Superman and his cast of characters.

[pupyuj]

dubcon pervy! g!p gym trainer yujin who touches you on parts she’s not supposed to?🤤 you’d be bent over the equipment and she’d press her hard cock against you with her fingers ghosting right above your breasts but that’s ok cuz she’s only correcting your form, right? right??!? it goes on for many sessions but you were a bit dumb to realize her advances :( so one day as she instructs you to do a stretcg that bends you over and gives her a delicious view of your ass, she loses all self-control, pushes your head against the yoga mat, and fucks you from behind hard and nasty like a rabid dog😫she’s been restraining herself for soooo long! and poor you couldn’t do anything but take her big cock cuz she was too strong (grabbing both of your wrists behind your back) :( both of you go on fucking in different positions, on every gym equipment, nonstop. and did i mention, you were a dumb virgin :( and it only turned yujin on even more when you were crying and begging her to stop bc you were unfamiliar with this (extremely good) sensation stirring up in your stomach :((( poor reader has never even touched herself before :( and all yujin wanted to do was to corrupt you😵‍💫

-🍒

this ask has been rotting in my drafts for months omg apologies 🍒 anon 😭😭💔 as always one can never go wrong with pervy yuj 🤓

[cw: dubcon.]

totally into the idea of this yujinnie here being someone you’ve actually known beforehand like maybe she’s an older sibling’s friend or smth so you feel super comfortable around her and is thus blind to anything weird she does to you 😵‍💫 bcs as far as you know that’s just who yujin is: affectionate and naturally touchy-feely with people that she knows! ofc that made it especially easy for her to get away with doing pervy things such as very very sexual comments about your body that she passed off as either jokes or ‘really specific compliments’, briefly brushing her hands against your boobs, touching your ass, etc. 🫣 and the touching doesn’t even stop outside of your one-on-one meetings! seriously, how could you be so stupid to ignore how her hand always rested so suspiciously low whenever she had an arm wrapped around your waist… she was almost disappointed that it was all too easy but you were still so pretty that she needed to fuck you 😳😳

she was hoping to slowly push you into wanting her back just so nobody can tell her shit about abusing her ‘position’ over you as this mentor figure, but one day you just showed up in a particularly skimpy outfit and that was the last straw for her! all morals out the window 😭 and it didn’t help that yujin hadn’t gotten off for days too.. it was perfect! yujinnie watching with bated breath while you were doing your cute little warm-up stretches, she didn’t care to hide her hard-on anymore because why would she?? you’ll get to see her dick in a matter of minutes anyway 🥰 but as morbidly horny yujin was, she doesn’t get to it right away! she had some manners! 😤 she helps you out with a few workouts as per usual, shares a few jokes and conversations here and there, she even showed you some pictures of her little puppy just to get you nice and comfortable… then you were finally laying on your back on a yoga mat while yujin towered above you, ‘helping’ you with some sit-ups although that wasn’t something that was in your routine before…

ah, yujinnie taking advantage of your exhaustion.. your head seemed to have taken you elsewhere bcs you rlly didn’t notice how she had fit herself in between your legs, her hard cock poking at your clothed cunt, her hands keeping your legs apart without too much pressure so you wouldn’t notice… that was until you blinked and set your eyes on yujin again.. “uhm.. unnie?” oh you were so stupid! really!? that’s all you’ll say about this extremely awkward and frankly, humiliating situation??! yujin couldn’t believe her ears, and her eyes! you didn’t make a single move to scuttle away like she expected you to!

it takes yujin a thrust of her hips for your poor instincts to finally kick in and you attempted to push her off.. only to have your wrists pinned above your head 😣 and before you knew it, your pants have been pulled down and you were taking yujin’s thick cock very painfully slowly.. she doesn’t bother to use her other hand to cover up your mouth, she needed to hear your voice.. hear how you whined and winced in pain but would moan her name at every thrust… and she likes how you got yourself to be free from her hold just to grab at her shirt and claw at her arms.. yk what she liked even more?? how you begged in tears for her to ‘wait’ and ‘slow down’ but didn’t make any attempts to push her away like before.. and ofc yujin doesn’t miss the way you’ve practically wrapped your legs around her waist—you wanted this!

if you ask me she was wayyy too ecstatic to help you with some other kind of workout 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ yujinnie practically manhandles you the entire time you fucked in that room… grabbing your waist tightly to the point she made marks on your skin with her nails then she’d aggressively push you around, making sure you’re in the perfect position to take her cock smoothly… face down, ass up, both of your hands gripping the mat for dear life while she pounds your holes… even making you gag and spit all over her fingers just to massage your clit in a way that makes you bite your lip until it bleeds… everything was painful, but it was also all just too good that you sat there and took it like the good girl yujin kept muttering that you were 😍

yujin’s big on praises for you bcs she always made sure to encourage you in your sessions but she was especially fond of you while she fucked your ass, for some reason! 🥰 so many “good girl”s and “good job”s… her praises only wanted you to be better for her ☹️☹️ so ofc you parted your own ass so she could go all out… literally thrusting into you like she will never fuck anyone ever again, biting your shoulder and drooling all over it like a dog in heat… you have never felt more accomplished in your life until yujin came inside you.. filling you up while you simultaneously squirted on her dick (which she liked very much btw!!) with a sweet moan that will surely be stuck in yujin’s head for daysss to come 😵‍💫

[lovettery]

Haikyuu x F!Reader Headcannons ! ♡

Includes : Tobio Kageyama , Kei Tsukishima & Tadashi Yamaguchi

Tobio Kageyama

I headcannon that before you he's like barely ever even looked at a girl nevermind dated one so he's very inexperienced with everything !

He would be super shy to kiss or anything so everytime you would try and kiss him he'd swerve away and just stare into the distance in shame of himself.

Soon he got the hang of it and now you can't get him to stop kissing you. Before practice? He needs a kiss to prepare. After practice? Needs a kiss to unwind. Lunch? How is he supposed to focus without a kiss? He just doesn't stop!! (but it's okay because he's cute ♡)

When you guys have been together for a while he loves to just lay down in bed with you all snuggled up and whine about his day whether it's him whining about Hinata's shitty receives or how much he missed you whilst you stroke his hair and rub your hand soothingly across his back.

He always tries getting you involved in volleyball so he'll randomly just come up to you with a ball in hand ready to practice with you despite your constant reminders that you barely know the basics nevermind his level of playing. (He doesn't go easy on you though and will tell you if you were shit. But will come back to practice with you again either way ♡)

I imagine he doesn't tend to use a lot of petnames mainly because he's worried he'll call you it infront of his teammates and they'll never let it go but when you're alone together he'll slip out a "baby" and "angel" here and there and it never fails to leave butterflies in your stomach.

Kei Tsukishima

Same as Kageyama I don't think he's very experienced with relationships but he's read a few romance books here and there and has some natural charm that helps him get by.

He's not a fan of PDA at all and thinks it's just embarassing but sometimes he'll connect your hands together and place them in his coat pocket or he'll connect your pinkies together when walking home. And the only kisses you'll get out in public is a quick peck to the forehead if he's scoped out the area to be sure no one he knows is there.

He LOVES to rest his head against you whether it's your back, chest or neck he really doesn't care he'll just plonk his head down and snuggle into you. He loves the feeling of having you against him like that, it calms him down.

Whenever you're gonna meet up to hang out, sleepover or just school he'll bring your favourite drink or snack and just shove it at you and not say a word (you know better than to say anything either ♡)

He really cherishes the moments where you two just lay down in his bed all cuddled up, you resting against his chest and his hand in your hair just enjoying the feeling of eachother and the comfortable silence you can only get when together.

Whenever you steal his glasses and put them on yourself he may act annoyed but deep down he loves it so much (And in those moments he really curses his bad vision because he literally cannot see you but can sense that you look adorable)

I don't see him as the type of guy who's big on petnames. If anything, he thinks they're stupid. Butttt, If you're shorter than him he'll call you petnames like "Shorty" and "Pipsqueak" and if you're a big fan of petnames he'll let a few "love" and "darling" slip by just for you ♡

Tadashi Yamaguchi

My passenger princess oh how much I love him

I imagine he's a very big fan of Romantic movies so he knows how to flirt a little but he doesn't actually have any experience with dating, maybe he had a wedding on his schools playground when he was like 6 if that counts!

He obviously overthinks here and there so whenever he needs to ground himself you'll just feel his hand on your lower back, pinching the tip of your sleeve or in your hair.

He's not against PDA but he's also not for it. Like he's not afraid of a few pecks here and there and a hand around your waist but he won't be the type of guy to wear a shirt with your face on it, that's far too embarassing for him.

He hates it when people underestimate him for things which makes him work himself harder to prove his worth. This causes him to burn himself out quickly but no matter how much you yell at him he won't change cause at the end of the day you always hold him and rub circles into his back whilst playing his favourite show.

He loves to call you petnames, but only in private. He loves to call you his "angel" and "honey" mostly but calls you "baby" from time to time. If you two are joking around he'll say really stupid names like "my boo boo bear" or "my pookie schnookie" with a stupid dopey grin on his face ♡

He's happy to play whatever you want whenever. Especially roblox! He loves to play 2 player tycoons and 2 player obbies with you the most but also plays Dress to Impress and Flicker with you.

Your first kiss together was embarassing to say the least. When kissing he accidently bumped your head really hard with his own, leaving a bump. He would not stop apologising for the next week until the bump on your head finally went down. (To this day he cringes when thinking about it but can't help but smile)

Thank you so so much for reading and I hope you liked them. I still have like a million other headcannons for these boys but I can't fit them all here ♡ This was my first time properly posting so I hope it looks okay !! This was super fun so I'll definitely be posting more characters soon. If you have any requests please let me know and I'll do them. Thank you!