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andersonlore · 5 months

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Abby and reader getting into an argument where they both know r is right but Abby is just being so goddamn stubborn ohmygod. So r just ups and flashes Abby with their tits to shut her up. Abby stutters and slowly loses her resolve until she finally shortcircuits

❛ THE PRETTY GIRL BEHIND THE BAR. ❜

♱

†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, dom!reader, sub!abby, poc!friendly, jealous!abby, soft nsfw, stubborn!abby.

Abby never should have been flirting with the bartender. She knows it just as well as you do. You had every right to be upset. Abby was your girl, not anyone else's, and she just let it happen. Right in front of you.

It made you sick and God, her dismal of it was even more infuriating. Her stubbornness shining through as you tried to make her see where you were coming from, but it seemed the attention was going right to her head.

"So, what if she was flirting? Why does it matter?" Abby was trying to worm her way out, but you wouldn't let her. Not this time.

"It's one thing to entertain it Abby but c'mon, look with your eyes. You let her feel you up right in front of me. Do you seriously not see how disrespectful that is?”

"She was not all over me and she did not feel me up." Abby defended.

"Really? You're going to play dumb right now? That's the side you want to take. You've got to be kidding me." Clearly, you were frustrated but your words only angered Abby.

"You're calling me dumb right now? For the love of god, she didn't touch me."

"Maybe you didn't notice because you were too caught up in the pretty girl behind the bar but anyone with eyes could see she was all over you." You walked away from her as the two of you walked into your shared apartment as Abby slammed the door behind her.

"She kept touching your arm and you did nothing. She tugged at the end of your braid; you did nothing. Anderson, she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and you just let her! It was like I was fucking invisible." You were beyond pissed and the smirk on her lips wasn't helping.

Abby was too damn confident for her own good, always putting her foot in her mouth before she even spoke.

"Anderson? Wow. You're really angry, baby." She took a step closer, but you took two steps back.

"Don't 'baby' me. Are you being serious right now?"

You couldn’t believe her. She had the nerve to stand there, beautiful as can be, with a smile you would kill for but right now? You wanted nothing more than to deck her in the face. Abby always did this, and it pissed you off to no fucking end. Abby always had to let you know how wanted she is and how lucky you were to have her. It truly was nauseating.

“Just admit it, Anderson. She fucking touched you and you let her.” You threw it back at her, tired of this back and forth.

“If you call me Anderson one more time, I swear to god.”

“You’ll what? Flirt with someone else in front of me?” You stepped forward, cocking your head to the side. “I have to say, the more you do it, it might just lose it’s impact.”

“Are you sure? You’re pretty wound up right now, baby. Just can’t stand when my attention is elsewhere, can you?”

You wanted to scream at her, but you couldn’t. Even if the chances of those baby blues welling up into tears were slim, you couldn’t let your anger get the best of you. All of this was intentional. Her pressing, her flirting, her acting like she oblivious to it. Abby wanted a reaction out of you. Boy, was she getting one. Still, you didn’t want to do anything to upset her, even if it seemed she was trying to do the opposite for you.

If she wanted to play with fire, so be it. You’d just have to cool her off enough so you could have a conversation about this without her cocky persona jumping in at any given moment.

The smirk dropped from her Abby’s face as soon as her brain registered what you were doing. Carefully, nimble fingers were unbuttoning the vest top you had on. You’d worn it just for her too. Abby loves the way it makes your breasts look, cleavage busting at the top. It usually would make her insatiable, but no. Tonight, she decided to keep her attention elsewhere.

You would make her pay for it.

“What are you doing?” Her breath hitches, and you try to smirk but you’re failing just as she was before.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“W-We’re fighting now, right?” Abby was so unsure of herself. Part of her believed she was imagining this. You slowly taking off your top, and God you weren’t wearing a bra either.

You really were trying to kill her, Abby thought.

“Yep, you’re really pissing me off, Anderson.”

“T-them, uh, why- oh fuck.” Abby tried to speak but it trailed off to a curse as you tossed your top onto the back of couch and made your way right to her.

“Why don’t you tell me exactly why your attention was elsewhere?” Your perky tits on display for her was torture, because she knew if she tried to touch you, her hand would be smacked immediately.

“C’mon, don’t be shy Anderson. Tell how much of a crazy fucking girlfriend I am. Go on. Fucking speak.” You demanded from her, but the blonde still found herself tripping over her words, unable to complete one sentence.

“I-I, um, y-y-you know, fuck, what do you want me to say baby? Please, I’ll do anything. Jus’ want to make it up to you.” Her eyes maintain eye contact with flesh exposed for her enjoyment, or rather yours. You liked doing this to her. Flipping the dominate switch to submissive and watching her crumble.

Abby knew it would be more than worth it once you had the harness and strap on, fucking her so dumb. Her pussy fluttered at the thought of it. She wanted you to stretch her out – turn her into your little fuck toy. You liked it, loved it even. Tearing apart someone so strong, until she was putty in your hands and begging for it.

It’s what she deserved after pulling the little stunt today.

She needed to be put in her place and you were more than happy to oblige.

“For starters, stop looking at my tits and look in my eyes.” Abby obeyed you, anticipating your next move.

“Now, be a good girl. Go upstairs, strip for me. I want you naked on the bed, and Mommy will be up there to remind you exactly who you belong to.” You slapped her ass as she moved hastily up the steps leading into your bedroom.

Let’s just say, Abby was in the for a long night.

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dollkisses05 · 3 months

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chrollohearttags · 7 months

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sassy ass ej the don being the most serious dragging y/n around to the renaissance show in his all chrome fit posing for the cameras 😭 don’t let beyoncé acknowledge him cus it’s over

SCREAMING!! Cause honey, best believe he was there, eating the girls up. Told (y/n) she better come correct or she can’t ride with him. 😭😭 Giving TinMan realness with a fur coat, shades and HELLA ice on, (you know he an Aries chile LMAO) Mind you, he had a concert himself that night but as soon as he heard The Queen was in town, he suddenly came down with a touch of bronchitis 🌚 baby is front row, knows every word and don’t let ‘em fuck up the Mute challenge cause now the whole row gotta catch hell. Like y’all don’t get it, he despises half the industry and never shows up to anything. So imagine everybody’s shock when he’s literally fanboying and falling all over himself for her. Like he’s soooo happy to be there. Him and (y/n) singing every word together, just having a time. One of his favorite songs is Love on Top and she sees him in the crowd just belting the lyrics to his girl so she shouts y’all out on the mic like ‘y’all look so good.” And mannnnn, can’t nobody tell him SHIT! He done came back and bragged to all of his boys, using it as leverage. Let Jean say some slick shit to him and it’s forever ‘well Beyoncé said I’m cute. What you got, Jean? Besides a foot for a face.” 😭 insufferable as hell. For days after, he carries one of those hand fans around and just opens it up right in front of you. Insufferable as hell. Bey has no idea the monster she’s created.

#cherry’s asks 🍒#nonnies 🌹🍒#he gon be like rolling ray #‘she call she check up on me from time to time.’#aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #musician x influencer au #aot au #him being a Beyoncé fan is like my fav thing now #we know he love all the lady artists #eren imagines #eren jaeger #eren jaeger headcanons #eren jaeger imagine #black fem reader

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girl-stopinterrupting · 9 months

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It's part of the teenage girl experience.

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jojissalsa · 6 months

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every time i listen to this song i can't help but think about leon. like he's so lana coded, and i hate it.

he'd be such a sweet boyfriend, and omg imagine how pretty he'd be on your actual honeymoon. so stunning just standing on the balcony of your (expensive) hotel and soaking in the sun as he watches it set on the waves, and it's hitting him so perfectly. ofc he teases you about staring at him like he's the most gorgeous guy ever, but like bitch??? who could blame us??? he quite literally is, everything about him is perfect.

he doesn't get it though, cause you're even more pretty. looking down at him with those cute doe eyes while he laps at your cunt, the dim sunlight hits you even better. it highlights every perfect curve on your body, and that expression of pure bliss as you tilt your head back when his lips suck at your clit. he doesn't care to pick you up and bring you to the bed, he needs to see you here and now. keep you safe at his chest while he folds you, fucking you against the wall. he can't help but make it so sensual, he's not rough at all, praising you for being so sweet and pretty, taking him so well.

and we all know he loves eye contact right?? like the soft looks he has in the first person mod for re4 remake. yeah. he loves to have eye contact, just makes everything so much more intimate. especially when you cum, he has to watch every second of it, like it just has to be ingrained in his brain. he's for sure the best at aftercare too, letting you rest on the bed while he starts a bath, taking short lil glances at you before carrying you in and having you lay on his chest while gently strokes your arms and hair. just typical leon, such a sweetheart.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #smut #resident evil smut #fluff #kinda but not really fluff #meant to be fluffy cause leon would really be the sweetest guy ever #def lana del ray core #just look at him.

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milla984 · 11 months

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It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions.

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.”

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back.

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant.

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack.

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome.

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words.

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume.

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble.

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment.

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you.

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper.

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task.

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted.

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it.

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close.

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom.

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin.

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive.

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before.

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication.

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots.

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him.

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off.

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement.

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!”

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…”

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded.

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected.

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor.

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls.

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

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bluevotinaa69 · 8 months

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you have no idea how much pleasure I got while doing this fem v of dd boys, but i hope you like them as much as i do🤲🫀

#mcr #my chemical romance #gerard way #my chem #frank iero #fanart #mikey way #ray toro #danger days #danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #party poison #jet star #kobra kid #fun ghoul #fem version

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andersonlore · 4 months

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currently thinking about....

doctor!abby who you meet for the first time when she’s covering the emergency room. you’re a patient, suffering from abdominal pain and a high fever. it’s pretty quiet, and it’s also three in the morning on a wednesday. late night shifts weren’t unfamiliar territory for her, she only had a few more hours left and she would be calling it a night.

doctor!abby who greets you with a soft smile as she glazes over your chart, before introducing herself. even with all the pain you’re in, you try your best to muster the courage to put on your best face, but you’re in pain and it’s evident.

doctor!abby tells you she wants to run a few more tests after you explain to her what brought you back in here. she tells the intern to notify her when your test results come back in. she believes it’s your appendix, inflamed and your symptoms masking themselves as a flu doesn’t help. it’s why the last hospital had missed it when you came in a week ago.

doctor!abby attempts to stir the thought of you from her mind. you're a patient. she's your doctor, and she'll be your surgeon if she's right about your prognosis. abby can't think about how you're extremely easy on the eyes. how your eyelashes compliment your eyes, accentuating the darling hue she could get lost in if she allowed herself. your voice floats over her heart like honey, sweetening her up at her very core. it's sickening how she wants to swallow every bit of it.

doctor!abby finds it a little hard to believe she feels this way just after one brief interaction with you. she prides herself on being professional, being distant enough from the patient. she has to be, her focus needs to be lasered when she's in the operating room. she can't think of how beautiful you are, how much she wants to flirt with you, and how she would if she'd met you anywhere but this godforsaken hospital. god has a special kind of torture for making you her patient. she can just be your surgeon. cut you open, patch you up, and send you back home. it's all she can do.

doctor!abby wants to uppercut this intern’s jaw. it’s really not their fault, but you’re undeniably in pain and they were attending to another patient before giving your results to the lab. but it’s more than clear with the results coming back, it’s your appendix and she’s sure at this point it’s ruptured. fresh tears spring to your eyes as she explains they need to get you into surgery right away, before any further damage can happen.

doctor!abby watches as you wipe your tears away, embarrassed you’re crying in front of the stupidly hot doctor. it’s mortifying, and you hated to be like this in front of anyone. abby’s expression is focused, cold even. she reassures you the intern is going to prep you for surgery, the weight in your shoulders drops, but the pain persistent.

doctor!abby who is elated when the surgery goes smoothly. you wake up several hours later with slight discomfort, but you’re recovering nicely. she was supposed to leave the hospital hours ago, but couldn't bring herself too. the thoughts of you coming out of anthesia after your surgery, telling her how gorgeous she is and how briliant she is to save your life.

doctor!abby who was thankful you wouldn't remember her cheeks flushed, dazed eyes and a stupid smile from your compliment alone — thankfully no one to see how unprofessional she was being. how her stupid, caring heart couldn't seem to control itself around you. she blamed your eyes. they were too easy to get fall for, making her get lost in nostalgia, as if she’d loved you in some past life.

doctor!abby who thinks about you even after you’re discharged. you’re home, healthy, and should be out of her mind but you’re not. your existence stretched into every thought of hers. god, maybe it’s impenetrable, rose-colored glasses affecting her judgement, but she wonder what it would be like to see you out of the walls of this hospital. she imagines picking you up for a first date, holding your hand sweetly even if she was nervous — god — she thinks about kissing you the most. she would savor every moment if you let her.

doctor!abby who happens to see you again at dina’s place or more accurately, you’re waiting in the pouring rain, downright soaked. lightning paints the skies, cracking thunder rumbles making you jump as your rubs your hands along your forearms trying to regain some warmth. she’s never been more thankful for her loud neighbor. of all the people in the seattle area dina could be friends with it’s you. the woman she can’t stop thinking about, the beautiful goddess she dreams about is within her reach and she’s definitely going to take advantage of it.

abby softly greets you not wanting to frighten you, declaration of her appearance known as she says your name eloquently. it’s the hot doctor, oh my god. oh my god.

“dr. anderson?” you question, a hint of a smile wanting to escape and abby takes note. your hair is wet, silky, hint of curls forming. drops of the rain flow over supple cheeks, falling over wet lips.

yet again, abby is reminded of just how beautiful you are. butterflies swarm the pit of her stomach at your excitement to see her. you’re surprised but you can’t stop looking at her. it’s a relief, the hope you might feel the same as her.

“please, just abby.” so distracted by her, domineering presence you noticed the umbrella she had, shielding you from the dreadful rain. but it really didn’t seem too terrible. not when she was in your company.

abby was shed of her white coat, only wearing navy blue scrubs and simple tennis shoes for comfort. biceps sculpted to the heavens, slightly wet from the rain which seemed to make them appear even more delicious. you want to eat her right up.

“i’m so confused. you live here?” abby gestures to the house right next door. “yeah, right next door.”

“i was just coming home and you looked…..wet.” abby silently cursed herself for being so goddamn awkward. it was worth it though, your small laugh an equal reward.

“if you want, you can come to mine. dry off, not get completely soaked while you wait for dina.” abby offers sweetly. “totally up to you, but my home is pretty damn cozy. warm too.”

the two of you are smiling like idiots. abby’s hoping you say yes and you’re thinking about how adorable she is, despite how physically terrifying she may appear.

“okay….yeah. i might be into that.”

“yeah?” abby’s voice changes, dropping into a tone you hadn’t heard before. it’s pure velvet and you want to feel it on your skin. you want to feel all of her. she leads the way as you stay under the umbrella, impossibly close to her as she protects you from the rain.

doctor!abby who gets you a change of dry clothes, a crewneck sweater and sweatpants. she can’t help but notice how adorable you look in her clothes. abby tries to do her best not to flirt with you as you’re sitting on her couch, but she fails. she’s asking normal questions, non-sequential small talk, but her hand is on your thigh. though the cotton is thick, her touch lights a fire between your thighs.

doctor!abby who nearly combusts when you start touching her arms, her shoulder, ghosting longer her thigh. but they find home elsewhere. fingers delicately smoothing over the end of her braid. abby can’t stop the way her heart stops, and then continues. the blonde strands wrap around your finger like a vice, clinging onto you as if it’s the sole purpose of existing.

doctor!abby who can see the ember shining in your eyes, the way you’re looking at her, like you might just eat her whole. fuck, she would let you too. she’d let you do whatever you want.

“i bet you look beautiful with your hair down.” you tell abby, inching forward, your thigh touching hers. “but you’re beautiful like this, too.”

“beautiful? me?” abby questioned as if it wasn’t obvious.

“don’t play dumb, dr. anderson.”

“i told you to call me ab—” her words just stop when you sling your left leg over, straddling her, grinding your hips just slightly before you fully press your weight on her. she sighs at the contact. feels s’good, having you this close.

wordlessly, you slowly undo her braid until every blond strand is free, her scalp thankful for it. abby moans as you run your fingers through her hair. your bring it over her shoulders on both sides, cradling her face in the palm of your hands.

“you really think you’re not? you’re going to sit here and pretend like you’re not the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen?” abby blushes, supple cheeks close to crimson, but she doesn’t look away.

“yeah, baby? you think so?”

“i know you are.”

abby lifts her hips cockily, smirking as the moan leaves your lips. all these layers, but being pressed up against her is doing something to you.

“i guess blonde doctors are your type then, huh?”

“only when they keep checking up on me when they didn’t have to.” your hands rest on her hips, as you lean into her, nose pressed against hers, lips ghosting over her very kissable ones.

“i was just doing my job, you know?”

“sure you were, dr. anderson.” abby grunts, aggravated you won’t just say her name again. she needs to hear it.

she can feel your breath on her lips, if she just moved slightly upwards, she’d be kissing you. she wants to, needs to.

“you want to kiss me.” your pupils dilate and your voice trembles.

“say my name and maybe i will.”

“so it’s that easy?”

“mhmmm, that easy.” abby hums, and her name is about to fall off your lips. tragically, dina walks through abby’s front door before you get the chance to. you’re not embarrassed to be found on abby’s lap, and dina knows it too. she just laughs and asks if you’re ready to go.

you whisper in abby’s ear before biting gently, “until next time, dr. anderson.”

an. omfg i actually like something i wrote???? wild.

#✭・۪ ⊹ ֗ ray’s works #if you're a med student....do not come for me pls #yes i’ve been watching a lot of grey’s anatomy and thinking about abby being my doctor #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou2 #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x poc reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader

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somewhereincairparavel · 23 days

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🐚 Daughter of Neptune headcanons list 🌊 Part Two..

note: dam this was superrr long aswell, I hope I didn't bore y'all lol, I really enjoyed writing this actually! Again, this is the continuation of my first fic, this mostly includes big brother percy! x reader, and yes there will be a part 3 aswell, that focuses more on reader x bf! Jason, gosh I was not expecting this to become an actual series LOL! This part is mostly Percy centric! Also, i wasn't expecting my first hc list to get that many notes?? Like 72 notes is a LOT for me especially if it's for something that I've never done before! So thank you!

•Jason's disappearance would drive you INSANE. I'm not even kidding, those 6 months would be the worst you've ever had. Almost as bad as Annabeth, and it's not just because your maybe-boyfriend disappeared. It's because your sleep was PLAGUED with nightmares about this mysterious lady who called herself the earth mother. She kept trying to recruit you to her side. Gaia was trying to make you join her. But you didn't even know that it was Gaia, at that point.

• Since you were linked to the earthen side of Neptune, and Gaia wanted ALL forces of earth to join her against demigods, you were her main target, along with Percy and Jason. You'd be the easiest to manipulate amongst all big three children , since your powers reeked of earth.

•You anxiously told Reyna about these nightmares, but she waved off the suspicion as stress, with you being unnerved about Jason’s whereabouts or something.

•You also got dreams about a teenage boy with black hair, wandering around the streets of San Francisco helplessly, something about this boy felt super tranquil (yes it's Percy lol)

•And don't get me started about the senators' uproar about their praetor’s disappearance. Conspiracies swirled around the whole camp.

•Octavian was NOT helping the matters, the guy was such a drama king. He cooked up this wild story that YOU were the reason Jason disappeared, taking advantage of the point that Jupiter and Neptune were rivals to give himself an upper hand in his argument.

•He also latched on to the point that all of these atrocities were happening because YOU were a bad omen to camp, which unfortunately, convinced the whole senate. The whole camp now hates you more than ever.

•And guess what happened? You weren't even a full centurion anymore. Ppl thought you would lead your cohort to conspire against everyone, so they forced poor Reyna to transfer the centurion-ship to Gwendolyn.

•Octavian also deliberately refused to look for Jason because he was happy to get rid of the son of Jupiter.

•Nico and Reyna were your only support systems at this point. Reyna elected you as the unofficial praetor (not that she told anyone else, of course, this was a secret between you both, she needed another praetor in place of jason, and she badly wanted it to be you, but the senators begged to differ) so you were secretly helping Reyna to help reinforcements to look for Jason.

• Nico would actually be such a big comfort to you. Bringing you coca cola from McDonald’s while you both just sat in silence in pluto's shrine wallowing in sadness lol

•Okay okay I'm yapping so much, so here comes the best part. The most anticipated one. Your brother Percy Jackson's arrival.

•You actually weren't in camp when he dramatically came by, you were in Temple hill, trying to convince a thick headed octavian to burn his god damn bears and issue a prayer to Jupiter about Jason. That jerk was so stubborn. So you were practically yelling at each other.

•That's also EXACTLY when Percy and Hazel get sent to Octavian by Reyna. So while they were approaching you, you were just in shock and stopped mid way from the argument you and Octavian were currently having and stared at Percy. He was the same boy in your dreams.

• This strange boy had worn the same expression as he stared at you. Shock. Unbeknownst to you, Percy had been having dreams about your wispy face as well.

• Hazel told Percy about you after he dramatically charged into camp as a child of Neptune. Percy would actually be SO excited when he finds out that he has a sister in this mysterious camp.

• But TWO children of Neptune? At the same place? Same time? This all brought on such an uproar amongst campers

• Octavian had practically hardwired the whole “Neptune children are unlucky” thing into ppls mind so much that everyone was worried that Percy's arrival meant something bad was happening.

• When Percy met you though, he'd actually find you very closed off and rigid. But he cannot help being soft around you, since you were practically his younger sister.

• You'd deliberately avoided him a little. Because you were SO overwhelmed with everything. How did you dream about your nonexistent brother before you actually knew he existed? You actually had a hard time trusting him with everything going on, so you'd act a little cold around him for the first day. Even Reyna would notice your lack of enthusiasm when you welcomed Percy to your legion.

• But you failed to intimidate Percy. like miserably. You'd shoot him grumpy looks, only to find him smiling back at you. You felt kind of bad now. Since Percy looked like he badly wanted to talk to you.

• so. You planned a secret excursion. You were both in the same cohort, so you had no problem tapping Percy on the shoulder at lunch, and told him to meet you at your dad's shrine at around 12 AM.

• Percy was super confused at your sudden offer but he obliged anyway out of curiosity.

• so he'd be walking around the shrine like a lost puppy, admiring how new his dad's statue looked. Hazel had told him about your efforts to bring glory to Neptune, and how you'd never miss a day to clean his shrine, and percy'd admire that. Like a lot. He knew there's more to you than what people said about you in camp.

• "Good old dad huh?" You'd say as you came inside the shrine, startling Percy so bad that he'd trip on his own shoelace.

• That shit was hilarious as hell lol making you holler with laughter.

• He'd be super embarassed but would totally laugh along with you.

• Okay so the first few minutes would be painfully awkward. I mean, what do you say to your long lost sibling you never knew you had?

• But Percy would interrupt by telling you that he'd had dreams of you. Which shocked you to the core. Because you had them aswell, that piece of information would leave him shocked aswell.

• So after this info dump, the conversation after would flow so naturally?? Like where did all the awkwardness go? You'd both talk about everything, you'd tell Percy about Jason (though you kinda left out the boyfriend bit lolz) and he'd tell you about Annabeth.

• You'd walk Percy around the streets of New Rome, breaking curfew, like you always did, as you told him "well you deserved a proper sisterly tour of the city yesterday, I'm sorry I didn't give you that, I just had a lot on my mind, I DO want to get to know you more, you are my brother, after all".

• All of these words would leave Percy overwhelmed tbh. He'd been so scared that you wouldn't talk to him, and that you may not want have a sibling dynamic with him. But he was wrong. You were still a little awkward, but you were trying. And that made him feel a rush of brotherly affection for you. You were nothing like the scary/grumpy heartless girl you were perceived to be by the other campers.

• the whole excursion-with-your-brother-to-bond with-him thing actually worked. You had no idea what you were doing, but it worked. You got to know stuff about him, even though he barely remembered a thing, and as much as you hated to admit it, you sort of overshared with him. The bullying you faced at camp, how everyone called you names, scoffed at you, how Octavian was being. well. Octavian. Your dad not noticing you, So all in all, you shared basically everything with guy. And no, you still left out the boyfriend detail, he ain't gonna know about that lol

• It actually helped you get those things off of your chest. But at the same time, you had too much fun maintaing the grumpy mean girl persona, and now that you've given him your tragic villian backstory, you no longer had the "mystery" aura around you anymore, and you were sure Percy thought of you as a small marshmallow he needed to protect. You didn't need protecting.

• And you were SO right, Percy got super protective the next day, the change was SO visible, that even Reyna noticed and asked you about it.

• you kept the sibling excursion trip a secret though lol no way were you scrubbing the streets with toothbrushes again. You'd broken enough rules.

• So now, the curfew thing just became an inside joke between you guys lol

• Percy would SO introduce you to blue food. Tell me he wouldn't.

• Okay so after loads of protesting and senate Mayhem, you'd go on the quest to free thanatos, along with Percy, Hazel and Frank, where you also found out that you were a part of the prophecy. You'd discover that you and Percy's powers would work SO well together.

• You both would look like a power duo in all honesty, you'd cause the earth around you to tremble, while Percy made the waves accelerate. Frank and Hazel almost fainted omg

• Octavian was SO sure you were going to fail the quest.

• Jokes on him, his expression when you and Percy rode on Mrs O Leary, carrying the golden eagle together, screaming "Twelfth Legion! Fulminata!" was hilarious. He looked angry, shocked and murderous all at the same time.

• I kid you not, The amount of celebration you and Percy got after you came back was insane. You were both elected as praetor the same day. Yes, I know there can only be 2, but at that point, not even Octavian could deny the fact that you both deserved praetorship. (Sucks that it only lasted a few days before you guys ran off to the argo ii)

• Percy's arrival had helped you as a person, and helped restore glory to your father Neptune and the twelfth legion. All of a sudden, Neptune children, were regarded as lucky charms. You both would definitely go down in the Camp Jupiter history reports as the sibling duo who restored the golden eagle to Rome again, after many many years.

• okay now that the plot centric stuff with Percy is over, lemme just add a few extra stuff.

• you and Percy would have SUCH different auras, it was actually hilarious. You'd be dark and broody, Percy would be calm and serene (well, most of the time) which was GOOD. Bc if you both were mad, then I'll send the world some thoughts and prayers, mostly prayers. Since it would end in an avalanche mess.

• also, i forgot to mention, you broke your imperial gold sword in the quest, that left you shattered. Bc that sword held memories. But in return? You got something SO much better.

• Your good old father, Neptune, had appeared in the praetorship ceremony, (leaving Octavian terrified) and congratulated you and Percy for being "such a pride symbol" for him (Percy got SO mad, like oh. NOW you notice us pops?) but yeah, Neptune, told you that your efforts to restore glory to him was very much noticed ad appreciated, by him.

• Neptune had given you something else as a replacement for your sword. It was a pearl bracelet but when you tapped it twice, It turn into this unique aqua coloured metal, that would transform into any sort of weapon you wanted. But the catch, is that it could only be one weapon at a time. This was eerily similar to Jason's coin-sword and Percy's Riptide.

• Percy had sassed the hell out of Neptune on your behalf though lol I mean, the guy has every right to be angry, His sister was neglected for SO long?

• in a way, percy also felt super guilty bc now tha he got his memories back, he knew Poseidon would visit him a lot, but his Roman side never visited his other child up until this point? He felt like he had a privilege you didn't.

• Sally would totally love you. She'd coddle you as much as she does percy tbh.

Update: part three is just out!

https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746677981633724416/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons-list-part?source=share

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