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dudeitiskarev · 27 days

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I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

Word count: 2.4k.

Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.

Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.

Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.

You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.

“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.

“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”

“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”

The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.

It was his soul returning to his body.

He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.

All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.

You were alive.

“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.

Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.

“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.

Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.

“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.

“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.

“JJ?”

“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”

Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.

“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”

It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.

“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.

“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”

Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.

This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.

“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.

“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”

Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.

God, if you don’t ever wake up—

“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.

She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.

“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.

“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”

Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.

“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”

Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.

“García,” Gideon insisted.

A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.

“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.

Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.

“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”

Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.

It was just you and him.

The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.

As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.

Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.

He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.

Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.

He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.

His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.

“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”

He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.

“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.

You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.

“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.

He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.

“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.

“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”

It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.

“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”

You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.

Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.

It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.

Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.

Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.

“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”

He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.

“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.

It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.

“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.

Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.

You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”

It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.

He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.

A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.

Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.

Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.

Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.

Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.

“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.

Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.

“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.

You were awake.

Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.

You coughed and writhed with discomfort.

“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.

You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”

Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.

“Hi,” he merely said.

You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.

“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.

“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”

“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.

This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.

“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”

The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.

“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”

“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.

The guilt was still there.

“But I didn’t.”

“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.

“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”

He chuckled. “Barely.”

“It looks good. I like it.”

He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.

“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.

“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.

Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.

“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”

“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.

“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”

I love you, he thought.

“How could I not?” he said instead.

Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.

I hope you liked it!!!!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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arielleslipgloss · 3 months

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Being Embarrassed is AN ILLUSION!

(I don’t own these photos!)

“Most importantly, you must always have faith in yourself.” - Elle Woods

What does being embarrassed feel like? Well, our first feelings are always insecurity and to overthink. We worry about what others think of us. We worry about getting judged, to even overthinking what we said. I promise you that these people are too focused on their own life. They could even be just like you and overthinking what they said or did.

Why do we get embarrassed? A big part of our population are most likely people pleasers. We all care about what someone thinks about us. Whether it’s your parents, relatives, friends, bf/gf, etc. We also get judged a lot, from the day we came into this life. It’s hard to go from a pure and innocent child to a child scared of being judged. In conclusion, being scared of getting judged is why we get so embarrassed.

The mindset! In order to truly realize being embarrassed is an illusion, you have to walk with this thought. It has to become a life motto, not just that but a rule for yourself. You have to become committed and make sure you’re aware of this. If you get embarrassed and forget it’s an illusion, brush it off.

Validating yourself! One of the main reasons why we get embarrassed or afraid of being judged is, because we love praise. Praise from others that is, so start praising yourself. When you see yourself in the mirror, compliment yourself. Tell yourself the things you want to hear so badly from.

Love you dolls! Thank you dolls for reading 😘

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fbfh · 1 year

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rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs

wc: 2.3k

genre: mutual pining, contrasting aesthetics

pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine reader (fem/she her/referred to as a girl)

summary: you're new at school and it takes a painfully long time for you to find the only hot guy there. he's had a massive painful crush on you since you first set foot through the door.

warnings: reader is a little insecure/anxious and copes through hyperfemininity, rodrick has low self esteem and dyslexia, they both think they have no chance with the other one, jocks keep asking you out, you're friends with Heather and Madison

a/n: obsessed with this dynamic. when you finally date everyone is so fucking confused lmao

@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @yesv01

First of fucking all

Match made in heaven

On your first day of school at Crossland you turned a whole lot of heads

You figure you should make a statement and decide to channel your idol, Elle Woods

You show up to school in a pink mini skirt blazer set, a little halter top with a heart cut out, and matching pink heels

You’re obviously rocking your signature scent, strawberry pound cake body spray and matching strawberry fizz flavored lip gloss

You did a mani pedi and a facial over the weekend to destress

You walk in quickly to avoid the people that are staring at you for some reason, unintentionally strutting through the halls in a way that appears totally confident

You reach the office to get your schedule and tuck it into your heart shaped bag along with your sunglasses

You make sure to smile and be extra friendly with all the teachers and administrative staff, and in every class where you have to introduce yourself over and over, you try to project what you hope is an approachable friendliness

People were already starting to whisper about the living barbie doll that just showed up out of nowhere, and these whispers reached none other than Heather Hills

She grabs Madison and tries to hunt you down

To confront you for trying to steal her place as the prettiest most popular girl there

Before she can threaten you, you’re asking her where the good boutiques in town are

You have such a unique, sunshiney charm that she totally forgets what she came to talk to you about

Before she knows it, you and her and Madison have plans to go shopping this weekend

You praise yourself for making a couple friends on the first day, not realizing you accidentally waltzed your way into the elusive popular girl clique

By the end of the day, you have entirely by accident established yourself as queen bee of the school

As time goes on, you’re relieved that at least some of the people at Crossland are so friendly

Sometimes people say hi to you, and you always reply with a smile or wave or hi back

But a lot of the time people just stare at you

You’re somewhat used to it since not a lot of people wear nearly as much pink as you do

Or glitter

Or use a fuzzy pink strawberry scented glitter gel pen for all their homework

So you try to chalk it up to that

As the days go on, everyone thinks they know exactly what to expect from you

You’re like Heather 2.0, just a little nicer

Which is almost worse

When Heather is mean to everyone she doesn’t like (which is almost everyone) at least they have a reason to hate her

But you??

You’re so elusive

You don’t have a ton of friends, you don’t go out of your way to go party unless Heather and Madison drag you there

But what’s weird is that you’ve turned down every guy who’s actually worked up the courage to ask you out

Every single guy at crossland wants to ask you out

But when the captain of the football team

And the quarterback

And the hottest guy in your grade all asked you out

And the whole school watched you politely turn them down one after the other

No one else thought they stood a chance

Heather and Madison think you’re crazy for turning them down

“I just… I’m not really into guys like that.” you say dismissively

“Hot jocks?” Heather demands

You would have said the type of guys who’d have bullied you in middle school, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to bring that up

“Yeah.” you agree, and eventually they stop pressing you

Your status of queen bee is even more solidified by the rumors rampantly spreading that not only are you unimaginably hot

But you’re also impossible to date

This becomes common knowledge after a while

Until one day when you’re running late to school

Heather’s still complaining about having to turn around and pick up her sister

“I mean, you were the one who forgot her at your house…” Madison starts, piping down fast when Heather glares at her

As you all get out of her convertible, tires screech behind you

A beat up white van with spray paint writing on the side parks haphazardly next to the curb

Muffled guitar and drums blast out of the car speakers, and as the driver opens the door, you recognize it as green day

Your eyes widen, and you lag behind to try and get a look at the driver

Heather’s ranting about something, and Madison grabs your arm, pulling you along as you watch the driver stumble out and trip on the curb

He has messy black hair, eyeliner, and he’s wearing a well loved ramones shirt

As if that wasn’t enough, he shoves the drumsticks he’s holding into his back pocket, poking out awkwardly

“Who is that?” you ask

Heather and Madison whip around, ecstatic that you finally found someone at school you think is hot

They scan the scattered crowd of other late students trying to make it inside before first bell

“Who?” Heather demands, looking straight past the guy at the captain of the football team who you’d turned down for the fourth time earlier this week. “Brent? You know Brent.”

A twinge of jealousy flashing through her voice as she finishes, desperate for more information

“No,” you say, pointing. “The guy who looks like Billie Joe Armstrong.”

“Who?” they both demand, still looking right past him

“Black hair, black shirt…”

Finally they see him

“Heffley??” Heather demands, holding back a gag at his name. “No, no, no. Not him, anyone but him.”

She shudders, pushing past both of you to go inside

You’re stuck in place, watching him greet his friends and laugh loudly as they shove each other hello

Madison leans in close

“That’s Rodrick. His god awful band ruined Heather’s sweet 16 and she’s still pissed about it. Going near him is social suicide.”

It suddenly makes sense that you haven’t bumped into the only hot guy at school yet

If you’re always with Heather and Heather avoids him like the plague…

Madison drags you inside, and you’re already trying to figure out a way to talk to him

Just because you didn’t know Rodrick exited before now, doesn’t mean he hasn’t been drooling over you since you showed up at Crossland

“Uh, dude… was she just staring at you?” Ward says once Madison finally drags you inside, forcing you to break your unwavering stare you had locked on Rodrick

He turns around quickly, looking for a more logical explanation for you looking in his direction as some football players walk past

“She must have been looking at Brent.” he decides

“No dude,” Ben punches his arm, “she was totally making eyes at you.”

They all laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement as he drags himself to his first class of the day

He can’t focus even more than usual

Were you staring at him? Making eyes at him like Ben had said?

He stares at the back of your head in all your shared classes, which is a lot of them, just like he always does

And just like always, his mind starts to wander

Of course he’s down stupid bad for you, he doesn’t know anyone that’s not

He wonders what you smell like, what you look like up close

He wonders what your hands would feel like on his body, if you’d drag your pretty manicured nails across his skin

He imagines kissing you in such vivid detail it feels real for a few moments

Then he starts to wonder what you’d taste like

Probably bubblegum, you usually chew it between periods when you won’t get in trouble for it

He wonders if your lip gloss is flavored

God, since the first day you showed up in this shithole he’s been thinking about you

He’s had countless dreams about you to

He always goes right back to sleep hoping he can see you again, feel your body against his, feel your lips on his skin one more time

He knows it’s hopeless, knows that even if you’ve seen him around and are vaguely aware of his existence, you don’t know his name

And why would you want to??

He’s such a teenage dirtbag he practically has rights to the song

Plus Brent is still determined to get you to go out with him

He considers himself your boyfriend already and has been threatening anyone who stares at you more than normal

Even if he could get past Brent and his own debilitating self doubt and low self esteem, you’re with Heather and Madison constantly, who still think he’s worse than mold after the incident and Heather’s sweet 16

You’re literally untouchable

Even still, he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush this bad

Not even back when he liked Heather

The only way he can get through classes is by spacing out the whole time (his teachers expect nothing less of course) and imagining you marching right up to him and sitting on his lap to make out with him

The only notes he takes anymore are scribbled song lyrics about you until his hand cramps up and he gets one of those nausea headache he gets from trying to write or read too much

He thinks about you so much

It’s getting to the point where he’s thinking about you all the time

And he has absolutely no idea what to do about it

Because he doesn’t stand a chance

There’s no way in hell he could approach you, much less get you to go out with him

Plus you’ve literally turned down every guy that’s asked you out this year

Why would you want to go out with him???

Heather and Madison are wondering the same thing

You could easily pull anyone in this entire school

And now you’re making eyes at Heffley out of nowhere????

It doesn’t make sense

They can’t pay attention for the rest of the day

Neither can you

You spend the entire day trying to figure out how to talk to him (you could just walk over to him)

How to get his attention (you already have it)

How to set up the perfect scenario to make him fall for you (he fell hard and fast long before now and has not recovered)

A party

You have to throw a party and get his band to play

Then you can corner him after the show to buy a cd and see if you can get it to go somewhere

It’s perfect

Plus Heather’s been telling you that you should throw at least one party before the school year is over

You tell Heather you want to throw a party this weekend

She’s ecstatic, thinking you’re finally moving on to something better to focus on

She and Madison are so busy helping you get everything ready they don’t notice you staring at Rodrick in the halls every chance you get and never managing to get him to look over at you

You’re so busy throwing an elaborate rager of a party to try and seduce him like Jay Gatsby that you don’t notice him staring at you when you’re not looking too

You can’t let anything ruin your chance with Rodrick

Nothing can possibly go wrong

So when Brent asks you out again at lunch you turn him down more definitively than you have before

You tell him you’re just not into him like that, and to please stop asking you out

He’s never had someone tell him that they’re not attracted to him and want nothing to do with him

It was definitely a much needed blow to his self esteem

Rumors that you broke up with Brent (even though you weren’t dating in the first place) spread like wildfire

So after school when you manage to slip away from Heather and Madison for long enough to approach Rodrick and ask him and his band to play at your party this weekend

It feels like a fucking dream

Not only do they have a gig

But it’s at your party????

It feels fake

It feels like something his touch starved hormonal brain would concoct to distract him from what he should be thinking about

They start trying to figure out sets and extra practice time before your party

And Ben insists the whole time that you were making eyes at him

Except this time Rodrick kind of believes him

There’s no way this means he has a chance with you, right??

He watches you walk away

And as you walk away, you let out an excited suppressed giggle that you actually talked to him

You’re still flustered and blushing under all your makeup, fanning your warm face as you hop into the passenger seat of Heathers convertible

“What’s up with you?” she asks, noticing your distracted state

“I’m just… really excited for this party.” you smile, biting your lip

You don’t think about a thing other than him for the rest of the day

You decide this party really cannot come soon enough

If you play your cards right

You might even get him to like you back

You ruminate on this as you start picking out an outfit - in your signature pink, of course - completely unaware that Rodrick is already rehearsing for your party

And thinking about you just as much

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick #doawk x reader #doawk rodrick #rodrick x girly reader #you make him lose his shit #actively go bonkers for you

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theblackberrygirl · 2 years

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my mother literally is a gambling addict in denial what the fuck

#tw addiction #she took me with her to check her lotto tickets today which she hasn’t done in a while #she normally does it when no one’s with her #when i was little i didn’t really realize what she was doing #but now i’m like ??? excuse me how much did you spend on this ??????????#shut up elle

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sundrop-writes · 4 months

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Sundrop's Criminal Minds Masterlist

Lessons For A Genius - Capsule Series (Temporarily Complete)

Note: This is a Capsule Series, so each fic can be read as an individual oneshot. There is no overarching story, and no specific ending.

Lesson One: Slick Silicone - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends With Benefits. Smut. Despite being a genius, Reid still has a lot left to learn about life. (Mostly sex related.) And he definitely wants to learn from you. His first lesson? Well, a linguistics lesson turns into a hands-on demonstration with a very special toy. (17,200 words.)

Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends With Benefits. Smut. After receiving his first lesson, Spencer is eager to learn more for you. So you teach him the next logical thing - how to pleasure you in return. (26,300 words.)

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other. (8,200 words.)

Push and Pull - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension. When investigating Viper, Emily doesn't fall for his tricks, and in fact - spends the night teasing him by showing more interest in you. Little did she know, she was driving you insane in the process. (2,800 words.)

The Perfect Brat - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. Spencer acts up, so you and Elle put him in his place. (2,900 words.)

Loverboy - Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You try your hardest to make Spencer's first time a good one. (3,100 words.)

Black Suit - Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong. (2,900 words.)

From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. After JJ is attacked on the Hankle farm, you take the time to check on her and distract her flustered mind. (3,000 words.)

Figure It Out - A Criminal Minds Casefic. Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. When the team takes a case in your hometown - a secret that you have been trying to hide for years comes to be known with a vengeance. (18,000 words.)

Meddle About - Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Morgan calls you Reid's 'Mommy', and you don't think much of it - but Reid can't get it out of his head. It accidentally slips out of his lips, and you like how it sounds coming from him. (6,300 words.)

Pathetic - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Switch!GN!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. Spencer gets punished again - in a very creative way. (2,600 words.)

She Keeps Me Up - Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. JJ is very protective of you - and very possessive of you. When an UnSub leaves a tiny scratch on you, she feels the need to remind you exactly who you belong to. (3,100 words.)

Careful (Series - Complete) - Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst, Fluff, and Smut. When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers. (57,400 words.) | Series Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six (Finale)

Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader Headcanons

Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss Kink Headcanons

Random Spencer Reid Headcanons

JJ Being Protective Of You (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic Reader)

The Scale of Dominance and Submissiveness in The Criminal Minds Characters (Headcanons)

How would Spencer react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

How would Spencer react to you fainting around him?

How would Spencer, Emily, and Elle react to getting proposed to?

How would Derek, Emily, and Spencer react to your daughter being clingy with them?

Note: This last fic links off to AO3. I'm probably not going to edit it and post it on Tumblr - it's going to live on AO3. So if you want to read it, you can do so at this link.

Burn The Witch - Spencer Reid x (BAU)Fem!Reader. Mutual Pining Co-Workers. Heavy Angst, Smut, Casefic. (Series - Complete.) You weren’t sure which you regretted more: acting on your feelings for Spencer, or writing them down first. But there wasn't much room for regrets when a psychopath was waving a gas can in front of your face and telling you he intended to turn you to ashes. (69,900 words.)

#sundrop writes #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 4 months

Text

🎀📖STUDYING TIPS FROM STRAIGHT-A STUDENT📖🎀

(1) Passionate about Learning

If we look at Hermione or Rory , they had a burning passion for learning. They were full of curiosity. They didn't just study for good grades , they studied because they were passionate to learn. They read alot of books. Ngl Reading is therapeutic . Hermione always went into detail , she read alot of books about the topics she was studying. There is a reason behind her being a " know it all " .

(2) Rely on Understanding , not rote learning

I was one of those who would study at last moment and rely on rote learning, I would still get good grades . But gradually I realized , studying at last moment is wrong and it makes education unworthy. After the exam , I would forget everything. Sometimes rote learning won't help too. Rely on understanding the concepts. Ofc there will be some topics that are just meant for memorization. When you come back from school , you should revise everything. It will makes things much easier for you.

(3) Be Disciplined and Dedicated

The best form of self love is discipline. Don't procrastinate. Procrastination is the cost of life you could have lived. Be mindful and prioritize your tasks. Start taking responsibility. You owe yourself to be disciplined and dedicated.

(4) Prioritize Education

Education is the most powerful weapon. Being educated and Intelligent is HOT ! HARD WORK WILL NEVER BETRAY YOU. Books are your best friends. When I had my exams or when I was in 10th grade, we had board exams . I studied really hard. It was lockdown but exams were still offline ( lol ). I cut off toxic people or anything which drained me or made me feel bad. I prioritized myself and my education. I used social media for 30 minutes only and I would watch content which made me feel motivated or good about myself. I unfollowed everything which made me feel bad. Did I regret it ? NO ! I GOT 98%. I strongly believe in manifestation too ( that's why this account exists ) so I affirmed for good grades too.

(5)Less Social Media or N🚫 Social media at all.

Alot of my classmates who are also exceptional at studying . Some of them joined Social media very late and some of them still don't use Social media. I joined Social media in Grade 9 but these days I try to use it as less as possible. This can be different for everyone. Maybe you use Social media in a healthy way and get good grades. For me , Social media can be draining sometimes so I use it less whenever I need to focus on myself. I was thinking to deactivate my account or take a break 😅. Most of the posts you see are scheduled btw, including this one .

(6)Find your WHY

Why are you studying ? What is your reason ? Is it because you want to make your parents proud ? Is it because you love learning ? Is it because you want to prove others wrong ? It is very important to have a reason for studying. Maybe connect your goals to studying. Let's say you want to become a dentist , now you can't become a dentist without studying ,right ?

(7) Find a Role Model

If you can't find your WHY yet , it's okay. Try to find a role model. It can be any real life person or a fictional character. It can be ANYONE ! My role models are Hermione and Elle Woods. You can put your role model Keychain on your pouch , stick their posters etc so whenever you look at it , you gain motivation to give your best. Again , it's okay if you can't find a role model . Become your own role model If you can't find any role model 😉

(8) Don't let Past intervene

It's okay if you weren't a good student from start . According to manifestation, you can revise being one too ! You can still change yourself and become a good student . You can prove all those people wrong by becoming a good student. Once a wise man said , don't let your past blackmail your present to ruin a beautiful future.

(9) Believe in Yourself & Be confident

Harry potter once said " Working hard is important but there's something which matters even more ; Believing in yourself " . Even if you aren't a potterhead , you should listen to Harry Potter. Another example can be Elle Woods , she believed in herself when no one did. She showed us the power of self belief. Be confident in yourself.

(10) Be attentive and Regular

You must be attentive in class. Participate in class and don't hesitate . I can understand if you can't participate in class because you feel shy ( I used to be like that ) but the more you push yourself to participate, the less you will hesitate. Gradually , you will feel confident too. Like Thewizardliz said , sometimes you need to get uncomfortable to get comfortable. Be a good listener.Also , be regular in your classes. If you aren't able to be regular, study at home. Some of my friends weren't able to be regular in school because of personal reasons but they studied at home . They didn't waste their time in unproductive stuff. Sometimes I was also not able to be regular at school but I studied at home and took breaks in between.

(11) Study From Youtube

I don't know if it's just me but youtube teachers can make the most complicated topics so simple. They explain everything in detail. Youtube teachers can be more helpful than school teachers tbh 😀. Self Study is important.

(12) Take care of Your Mental health.

It can be very hard to study with bad mental health. I tend to take care of my mental health. Stress can be the biggest distraction sometimes. So take care of your physical and mental health. Journal. Meditate. Take a break from social media if you need to. Use affirmations.Dance. Exercise. Read.Paint . Sleep. Whatever makes you feel better. Poor mental health can also interfere with your attention span so please take care of your mental health. Don't take it for granted 😃.

Short and simple tips

- Value your time. Time is money

- Self study is very beneficial

- Be organized

- Avoid Drama

- I WANT TO LET YOU ALL KNOW HOW IMPORTANT YOUR TODAY IS , YOUR NOW IS .STUDY HARD . WORK HARD.PLAY HARDER. DON'T BE BOUND BY RULES. DON'T HURT ANYBODY AND NEVER EVER LIVE SOMEONE ELSE'S DREAM. REMEMBER HOW MANY TIMES YOU GO WRONG, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU FAIL , DESPAIR, FEEL LIKE THIS WORLD IS AGAINST YOU . IN THE WORDS OF BOB MARLEY , AT THE END EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE ALRIGHT . - SHAH RUKH KHAN aka SRK👑

🎀📖These are some tips which helped me and I live by these tips. I hope these tips help you too. I apologize if the post wasn't helpful🎀📖

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spacedace · 10 months

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Here have some snippets of the AU that’s taken over my brain (featuring Elle unintentionally dunking on both of Bruce’s identities, Clark realizing he passed his taste in partners on to his son, a bit of pre/unaware that they are dating Super Serious Chaos, and some blink-and-you-miss-it background Enemies to Lovers Dick/Dan)

---

“Sorry, who’s Bruce Wayne?”

The room when quiet. All heads turned to look at Elle at the end of the table. Bruce didn’t visibly react, but Clark could make out the subtle indication of disbelief that his old friend was feeling - that they all were feeling at the interpreter’s question. Elle, suddenly aware she had the full room’s attention, had the look of someone who realized they’d said something wrong, but didn’t know what.

“You’re kidding.” John said, “You know Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows Bruce Wayne.”

Elle blinked. “I don’t.” She glanced from face to face, “Is he like a big deal? Does he work here or something? I haven’t been around that long so I might have missed him.”

It took every bit of self control Clark had not to laugh. His voice still came out a bit strangled from the effort as he offered, “No he doesn’t work here.” If Bruce was the type to do so in uniform, he’d be kicking Clark under the table.

“You live in Gotham. You have to know Bruce Wayne.” Barry said, voice going a bit high with growing bewilderment. “Mega ba-jillionair. CEO of Wayne Tech? Richest man in Gotham - in the world? Has like a hundred kids?”

Their interpreter’s nose scrunched. “So he’s like…in one of those fundamentalist cults obsessed with having a bunch of kids or something?”

Bruce actually twitched at that. The sound of utter disgust in Elle’s voice at the concept, the complete and total lack of any kind of recognition she had for the single most famous non-crime or crime-fighting related person in the city that she lived in, she truly had no idea who they were talking about. Clark had to get a recording of the room’s security feed, Lois would love this. Oh, wait no, Bruce’s kids. Maybe if he was fast enough he could text Dick to get there ASAP so he could see it all in person before it was over.

“No! Nothing like that! He adopted them - well most of them.” Barry tried to explain, looking utterly lost as he turned from Elle to the rest of them and back again. “You’re messing with us right? This is like a joke?”

Elle shook her head, looking just as lost as Barry did. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Do you know Dick Grayson?”

“I know of an officer Grayson who is a dick. Total tool. He’s been making my brother’s Dan’s life miserable for like a year now. Pretty sure not who you’re talking about though.”

“Jason Todd.”

“The library goon?”

“Tim Drake.”

“Sounds like a Dark Wing Duck character.”

“Cassandra Cain.”

“Isn’t that the author that started out writing incest Harry Potter fanfic?”

“Duke Thomas?”

“What’s he a Duke of?”

Barry snapped his fingers, pointing emphatically at Elle with a look of victory on his masked face as he shouted, “Damian Wayne!”

Damian, who had at that moment just walked into the meeting room with Jon at his heels paused in his place just behind Elle. He did pretty well at hiding his surprise at Barry seemingly shouting his civilian name and pointing at him upon walking in. Though the tense line of his shoulders suggested that if Barry was actually revealing his secret identity without warning or permission, there would be blood.

Stella Nightingale, unaware of the almost-kinda identity reveal going on around her, tilted her head in confusion at the speedster. “I’m assuming he’s related to that Bruce Wayne guy?”

“They’re all related to Bruce Wayne.” John said with open amusement now. The Green Lantern had given up on the research entirely, watching the entire debacle with a growing smirk he kept casting towards Bruce. “That man’s face is plastered absolutely everywhere in the news. How do you not know who he is?”

“If Lois Lane hasn’t written about him he can’t be that important.” Elle said with a casual certainty of one speaking a core tenant of their beliefs. Clark’s opinion of the young woman - already quite high considering her ferocious loyalty and fondness to Jon - rose sharply.

“You’re read the Daily Planet?” Clark asked, warmth curling in his chest at the mention of his wife and her work.

“I read articles by Lois Lane.” Elle said promptly, “I tried reading some articles that Kent guy she partners with sometimes wrote on his own but I couldn’t get past his writing style. Dude sounds like he’s from outer space with his word choice sometimes.”

Bruce, looking far too pleased, gave a quiet and not terribly convincing cough as Clark tried to will his soul back into his body.

It was going to be a long day.

—

“You are at least aware of who Gotham’s vigilantes are, yes?” Damian asked with a raised brow behind his mask.

Elle shrugged, giving him a sly smile. “The relevant ones.”

Clark tried to hide his short laugh with a feigned cough. Elle at least was distracted enough with Jon and Damian’s attention to notice but Bruce was giving him a look over the tablet he was trying - and undoubtedly failing - to review files on.

Jon grinned eagerly from his spot beside Elle as he asked, “Aren’t they all relevant to you? You live in Gotham.”

“I live in Crime Alley.” Elle corrected, bumping his shoulder with hers. “We have different standards of relevancy there.”

“So what are the relevant ones then?” Clark asked, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s burning stare. They’d get back to the research. Eventually. Finding out if the Gothamite who had been spending all her free time with Phoenix and Flamebird for the past year and a half was as oblivious to her city’s heroes as she was its celebrities was too entertaining a notion to pass up.

“Phoenix, obviously.” She grinned cheekily at Damian across the table, ticking names off her fingers as she continued. “Red Hood. Spoiler. Uh…Orphan?” She trailed off, forehead scrunching in concentrated thought.

“That’s can’t be all the ones you know.” Jon gaped, eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced over to were Bruce was seated, not five feet away before turning back to watch Elle try to rack her brain for any more Gotham vigilantes. Clark could see the moment that the words are taken as a challenge as Elle sat up and looked more determined.

“No, shut up, I know more. Uh…there’s the one, um Red Sparrow? It’s another bird one with red name, I’m pretty sure. And the one with the blue - fuck I should know his name. Nightjar? Wasn’t Nightingale I would have remembered that…shit, dude threw up on our couch once I should remember his name -“

“Nightwing threw up on your couch?”

“Nightwing! That’s the bitch! He got poisoned or something and Dan drug him to our place to patch him up since Doc Thompkins’ clinic was closed.”

Clark shared a look with Bruce and Damian. Dick had failed to mention that little event. Clark could see Bruce reaching for his wrist computer, undoubtedly typing out a message his eldest about what he’d just heard - possibly another to Alfred if he was feeling like pulling out the big guns.

At the other end of the table Elle ticked Nightwing off with a nod, even as Jon squawked that it shouldn’t count since he’d given her the name, “Then there’s…uh…oh! Harley Quinn!”

“Harley Quinn does not count.”

“She beat up a guy trying to mug me last week and got me a hot chocolate afterwards, she totally counts!”

“Someone tried to mug you?”

“Crime Alley, Nix, if someone doesn’t try to mug me while I’m out I get worried that I missed Hood calling in a Street Clear for something big.”

“We’re going to circle back on that later.” Jon said, sharing a pointed glance with Damian. It looked like young Miss Nightingale was going to be getting escorted to and from the Watchtower from now on.

Ah, Clark mused, falling head over heels for someone with no understanding of the concept of self-preservation and a stubborn determination to run straight into the heart of danger without a second thought. It brought back such fond memories. Of both Lois and Bruce. And Diana. And - Hmm. Kara might have been right. Clark might have a type.

Watching the three at the other end of the table and taking them in, Clark realized he might have passed his taste in partners on to his son. Well, at least he’ll be able to give Jon some advise on how to handle the heart attacks Damian and Elle will inevitably give him.

“Harley Quinn doesn’t count. You got any more?”

Elle rolled her eyes, muttering about Harley totally counts, before leaning back in her chair. “I think I’m out. I know there’s more but,” She gave a shrug, “I’m tapped out. Those are all the ones I can think of.”

It was, surprisingly, Bruce that spoke up at that declaration, a slant of amusement to his lips as he asked, “No one else comes to mind?”

Elle waved him off, attention turning to the mountain of alien script they needed her to translate for them. It was the reason she was even there rather than in her office trying to translate whatever incredibly dangerous magic tomb JL Dark had dropped off without accidentally summoning a demon or ending hte world in the process. J’onn was right, they really should give her a raise.“That’s all I got.” She said with a sigh, “Like I said, I know the relevant ones.”

“Hn.”

Twenty minutes of shared looks of amusement and suppressed laughter later Elle’s head shot up, a look of wide eyed embarrassment on her face. “Oh my god.”

“There it is.”

“About time Nightingale, I was starting to be concerned about your mental faculties.”

“Shut up, this so embarrassing!”

“Don’t sweat it kid, we all have our moments.”

“I can’t believe I forgot Signal.”

“What.”

---

Context of this snippet if anyone is interested:

This is actually the same AU as the Steph & Jason sibling bonding Anger Management snippet from a bit ago (I’m calling it my Ghosts in Gotham AU in scrivener so I guess that’s what I’ll call it here lol). This time focused on Elle and her misadventures as a Totally Normal Civilian (TM) working for the Justice League with her two besties Jon & Damian (none of them realize yet that they’ve been dating for months).

No idea when this is supposed to take place in terms of timeline with the other snippet, but kinda vibing the idea that while Steph & Jason are having a heart to heart on a rooftop over their shared background and Jason’s future as a dad, Elle is up in the Watchtower telling Bruce Wayne to his face that she has no idea who he is and forgetting Batman is a Gotham vigilante while he’s sitting at the same table as her.

Anyway, this AU has taken over my life. Expect more nonsense to come lol

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dani phantom #danielle phantom #super serious chaos #superseriouschaos #jon kent #jon el kent #Damian Wayne #clark kent #justice league #bruce wayne #barry allen #john stewart #ghosts in gotham au #batfam #elle doesn't pay any attention to the famous people in gotham unless they're trying to kill her or save her #and she might not even pay attention then #and yes this is more of my headcanon that the Justice League is the world's biggest polycule #no i will never let that headcanon go i love it too much #there's a version of this world where Elle never figures out that Bruce Wayne is supposed to be kind of a big deal #years in the future she Dami & Jon are married & she has a new friend she's made over for lunch #and they see some of the family photos and are like #is that fucking Bruce Wayne at your wedding?#Elle - oblivious: oh you know my father-in-law?#Bruce gets unmasked before Elle knows about everyone's identities & he's freaking out while she's just #full lex luthor moment: I have no idea who this is #Bruce: you know who I am now #Elle - does not know who he is but doesn't want to admit to it guessing: Clark Kent?

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yesimwriting · 3 months

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I feel like the reader in best friend!Felix is actually really smart, heck, let's say genius even, but is really oblivious when it comes to sentiment. The reader gives off nerd vibes, but they're so smart to the point it's a cool kinda thing. And if this was before Felix met Oliver, I feel like reader, like Farleigh, would get bad vibes from Ollie too but would be too shy? I guess, to say anything cause hey, they're new and stuff. I like the fic:) It's nice to read something like that, without the explicit content, I mean:D

A/n: omg love this,, definitely doing a bestfriend!felix blurb on this concept later, i just wanted to explore character dynamics for a second lol

fun fact: i originally pictured bestfriend!reader as a literal genius with -3 street smarts, it's just info that didn't make it into the fic!!

also i could see reader as being so smart they skipped a grade (if we want to add to the power/social imbalance by making reader a little younger, but not like weirdly younger) open to thoughts on this !

i picture bestfriend!reader as having an elle woods quality to their intelligence in terms of awareness (and maybe aesthetic, it is the early 2000's lol),, reiterating the most complicated parts of a lecture perfectly during a study session while half focused on applying lip gloss, aces exams while hungover (bc felix insisted on going out), and never registers how impressive all of it is

very much "what? like it's hard" but as literal as that statement could be

which could add to reader's shyness/uncertainty bc she forgets she's a little intimidating

okay but the potential of reader getting bad vibes from oliver if she became close friends with felix a little after oliver did?? too good

reader doesn't want to alienate oliver, he's the only one around felix that's also an outsider, that should make it easier to bond

but!! because reader is that smart, she has this gut feeling that tells her to keep him at arm's length,, but bc she's not the best at picking up on feelings, it's basically just that 6th sense thing that girls have that tells them when a guy has weird/unsafe intentions

bc reader can't articulate their concern, or understand it, they try to be nice, but oliver can tell that there's this distrust there

it drives him crazy

first of all, reader should be the easiest one to win over bc she's not one of the elites and she's a little awkward from time to time, it's frustrating that there doesn't seem to be a crux for him to use to weasel his way into reader's heart

oliver's aware that he can get close to felix without the others liking him as long as they tolerate him enough in public, but with reader, oliver knows more about felix's real feelings for them than felix does

that adds this timing element to the situation that’s stressful, because as soon as felix realizes how he feels about the reader, that will be that

meanwhile, reader is a little worried about being dropped bc of the tension between her and oliver, but oliver doesn’t fully notice that, he’s too distracted by his feelings

it's not fair, oliver "had" felix first, but oliver's perfectly capable of adapting to the situation, so he accepts it and looks at it practically

oliver knows that there is no fully "in" with felix unless you like him, so despite any resentment and jealousy he feels towards you, he decides that he'll do whatever it takes to get it

#bestfriend!felix #saltburn x reader #felix x reader #felix catton x reader

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noisilyscreechingsong · 1 year

Text

So.

Jazz, Danny, and Elle move to Gotham for school. Jazz and Danny both at Gotham University while Elle decides she wants to go to high school.

Elle meets Damian and Jon and they just click. Flash forward a little and Elle is kinda crushing on Damian and Damian is trying to figure out what these feelings are toward his new friend.

The teen awkwardness is peak and the opportunity for cringe is plentiful.

Insert families’ perspective here.

The Bats are suspicious why Damian is coming home late from school sometimes and why he’s acting weird. It’s Dick that gets it out of him first of course and encourages him to bring Elle over sometimes instead of always going over to her apartment. Just-

“Father, may I bring someone over after school?”

“Damian, you don’t have to ask if Jon can come over.”

“He’ll be coming as well.”

Bruce actually looking up from whatever he was working on.

“You’ve made a new friend? Someone other than Jon?”

“That is correct.”

“Who is it?” Bruce asks after some silence.

“Her name is Elle Nightingale. She is in three of my classes.”

Bruce blinks.

“‘She’?”

“Yes. Elle is a girl, obviously. I didn’t realize you were going senile in your old age.”

Cue mass teasing from all of his siblings and even from Bruce about having a crush, especially when they see how he acts around her when she visits with Jon.

They predictably will do a background check on the girl and her family, immediately raising questions. Why was she homeschooled before 10th grade? Why does the eldest sister have custody? Why did they change their last name and move halfway across the country?

Then there are the Nightingales.

When Jazz easily sees the little blushes and the side-eyed glances, she sits Elle down for The Talk much to the horror of the teenager. Other than some supervision, she just gives them small encouraging smiles every once in a while, making them blush even more.

Danny on the other hand is between teasing his little sister and laughing at the young love, and going into protective brother mode and giving Damian subtle threats if he ever hurts his baby sister. He’s actually pretty okay with Damian (the kid seems too old fashioned to pressure Elle anyway) and they surprisingly bond over the most random things like dogs, finding new vegetarian recipes, and different mechanics or weapons Danny tinkers with in his free time.

I just think it would be super cute and funny. Especially when the families meet and it’s kinda chaos.

#danny fenton #elle phantom #jazz fenton #nightingale #danny phantom #batman #damian wayne #bruce wayne #story ideas #funny #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #Elle x Damian

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burntheedges · 11 days

Text

Maintenance Request Chapter 19

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 7.6k

chapter summary: you and Joel have your third date, a bit of a discussion, and try something new together when Joel stays at your place for the first time. 👀

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 fun fact, I wrote the second half of this chapter in a sort of fugue state, late one night during NaNo last year. I swear this just poured out of me. Joel knew what he wanted. 😂 happy chapter 19 on the 19th!

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, handsome, cowboy), kink negotiation, some discussion of past relationships, somnophilia (kissing, fondling, p-in-v sex), mention of breasts, dream sex, dirty talk, a bit of crying while being fucked (in a good way)

Chapter 19

Saturday, November 9 Eleventh week of the semester

The rest of the week was a whirlwind – you saw Joel for at least a few minutes every day, and you talked on the phone most nights. By Thursday, you had your next date planned. Sarah had a sleepover on Saturday, so Joel was going to stay the night at your apartment. For the first time.

On Saturday, you caught Beth and Ellie up with your new relationship status – Beth had been pestering you about it since you’d told her about it over text (tell me everything!!) – and they immediately started complaining about how they hadn’t met him yet.

“I know! I know,” you wanted to wave your hands in front of their faces to get them to chill out. “I was thinking I could invite him to brunch next week.” You took a big gulp of coffee and watched their reactions.

Ellie narrowed her eyes and stared at you. Beth looked thoughtful.

“You sure you want him to meet both of us at once?” Beth asked, and Ellie snorted. “Throw him in the deep end?”

You shrugged. “I mean, he can handle it or he can’t. But I’m pretty sure he can.”

Beth smiled. “Fine with me. What about you, Hell’s Bells?”

Ellie glared at Beth for the nickname, as always, but you knew she secretly loved it.

“I guess that’s fine.” She furrowed her brow and stabbed a piece of egg with her fork. “If he does anything weird or fucked up I’m not gonna ignore it.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to. But he’s not an asshole.” She squinted at you. “I know, Ells. But you know I trust you, right? If you did notice something, I’d want you to tell me. And I’d listen.” You knew you weren’t really talking about Joel, at this point, but you wanted her to know that anyway. She nodded and sighed.

“Yeah I mean I do want to meet him. He can come to brunch.” Ellie shrugged.

“Thank you. I’ll ask him tonight.”

Beth nudged Ellie with her shoulder. “Maybe I can meet him this week for lunch, first, give you a full report.” Ellie laughed, but you could see the idea relaxed her a little bit.

“Oh!” Ellie sat up straight. “What are you cooking for him?”

Beth pointed at you with a forkful of pancake. “Do not make soup.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time!”

Ellie smirked. “Even if you don’t create Soup Geyser: The Sequel, it’s probably not a good date food. What if you spill it all over yourself?”

Beth laughed. “I dunno, maybe that’s a good thing. Then you can take your clothes off.”

Ellie dramatically gagged and covered her ears. “I don’t want to know about that!”

You and Beth both laughed as she started in on a monologue about how men, and hearing about her aunt dating them, were gross.

…

Later that afternoon, you’d just finished cleaning up and making sure the food was almost ready when you realized you needed to change before Joel arrived. You stepped into your bedroom and stripped off your shirt at the exact moment you heard a knock at your door. Shit.

You froze, not sure what to do, when he knocked again. “Shit,” you said out loud. You were standing in your bedroom in a lounge bra and sweatpants. How did you lose track of time so badly? You ran to the front door.

You hesitated once you got there but reasoned that Joel had already seen you naked, so you’d just open it and then run back to change. You nodded to yourself, and then opened the door, shielding your body behind it.

“Hey, darlin’, everything alright?” He looked like he’d been about to knock again. He eyed your bare shoulder.

“Sorry, Joel, wasn’t quite ready yet. You can come in and I’ll go change.”

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Guess I am a little early.”

You laughed and invited him in, and watched as his eyes swept down your body. “You sure you need to change? I like this look.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Joel, go sit on the couch. I’ll be back in a minute.” He did as you said while you ran back to your room and changed into the outfit you’d picked out earlier (complete with some green lingerie underneath – it was his favorite color, after all).

When you arrived back in the living room, you found Joel looking at the pictures lining your fireplace mantle. “I recognize Ellie and Beth,” he said. “Is this your sister?”

You stepped up next to him and nodded. “Yep. And our parents.” You continued on your photo tour for a few minutes, introducing Joel to your family as you went. He snaked an arm around your waist and leaned in behind you.

“This shirt’s pretty on you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

You smirked at him over your shoulder. “Thought you liked the other look?”

Joel grinned, unrepentant. “I can like both, can’t I?” You laughed and led him into your kitchen.

“Sure you can. Have a seat, dinner will be ready in just a sec.”

He sat, and soon enough you joined him and placed the food in the middle of the table, which you’d set earlier, before he arrived. You poured him a drink and dug in. He complimented the food, sincerely, which made you smile.

“So, you’re officially invited to brunch next weekend.” Joel snapped his head up to meet your gaze. He looked surprised, and pleased.

“I am?”

You smiled. “Sure are. Got the Ellie-and-Beth stamp of approval.”

He grinned. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“We might do lunch with Beth during the week, first.”

He nodded. “Whatever they want, darlin’. I want Ellie to be comfortable.” He reached over to squeeze your hand. “That’s the most important thing.”

“Thanks, Joel. I know she’s not actually my kid, but in some ways she is.” He tilted his head at you, considering your words. “Yeah, I know it’s confusing. Well, you know Ellie’s 14. My sister had her right out of high school.”

“Not too different from when I had Sarah.” You nodded.

“Yeah, she had a rough time. Ellie used to come stay with me a lot, even when she was really little. And then, um. Right after I finally broke up with Matt, Ellie actually lived with me and Beth for about…” you looked up at the ceiling, counting back in time. “About 2 years? Almost. When she was 9.”

Joel nodded, taking that in. “It makes sense that you’re so close.”

You smiled. “Yeah, hard not to be. And Beth helped a lot, so they’re pretty close, too. But my sister is doing a lot better now. She used to, um…” You trailed off, thinking through what you wanted to say. “Well, part of the reason Ellie is more wary of people I might date is that my sister dated, um, more than a few men, and they were in and out of their house all the time. That’s part of the reason she lived with me. Not all of it.” Joel nodded, face solemn. He squeezed your hand between his own. “But yeah, she’s doing a lot better. She’s a nurse, works a lot of weekends and nights. Ellie has her own room here and sort of comes and goes as she pleases. Their relationship is a lot better than it used to be, too.”

“That sounds like it was hard, to send her back.” You sighed. He was so good at seeing right to the heart of what you were thinking. And feeling.

“It was, and it wasn’t. I’m so glad they’re doing better, you know? But I do miss having her here all the time, even now. And now she’s a teenager and wants to be with her friends anyway.”

He laughed a little. “I’m familiar with that change.”

You laughed, too. “Yeah, I bet. But she’s doing well in school and she actually talks to her mom about her life, so I feel like it’s going pretty well. And I sort of have my sister back.”

Joel scooted his chair a bit closer to yours and put his arm around the back. “Sort of?”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “Our relationship took a hit during all of that. But it’s getting better. We talk more now. She’s been teasing me about you.”

For a moment you both sat quietly as he considered what you shared and you leaned in to him, head on his shoulder.

“Everything I learn about you impresses me more, sweetheart.” He murmured his words into your hair, and it made you shiver.

“What? Joel–”

“It’s true.” he squeezed you against him. “Not everyone would do that, you know. Even for family. It’s…” he sighed. “I love watching you get to know Sarah. I know I’m going to love seeing you with your niece. It’s just something special. Getting to know you in every way I can.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his chin and felt him smile in response.

You were quiet again until you felt Joel shift underneath you. “Joel? What is it?” You leaned back to look at his face, and caught him staring at your cabinets with a frown on his face. “Joel.”

“Hmm?”

“Joel Miller, are you looking at my broken cabinet door and thinking about how you want to fix it?”

You watched as a flush took over his cheeks. “Maybe I am.” He sounded sheepish and you grinned.

“I don’t think I even have the tools you’d need. Sorry.”

He shook his head, frowning at you playfully. “What, not even a hammer?”

“Ok, I probably have a hammer. And maybe, like, a couple of screwdrivers.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll fix it another time.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Darlin’,” he cut you off. “I’ll fix it.” He smiled at you, amused by your protest. “You know it won’t take me even five minutes.”

You laughed, loving his confidence. “Oh yeah? Well, who am I to argue with my Hot Maintenance Guy?”

He bit back on a smile and tilted his head. “Thought I was Hot Construction Guy?”

You grinned. “You are. And Hot Maintenance Guy, and Hot Gardening Guy. Whatever I’d seen you doing that day.”

Joel laughed and pulled you into a short kiss. “Well, I’m definitely your maintenance guy. So I’m definitely gonna fix those cabinets.” You sighed, giving in.

“Not right now, though. We have better things to do.”

He perked up. “Oh? Like what?”

“Let’s clean up and then you’ll find out.” You winked as you stood to gather your plate.

Between the two of you, you made quick work of the dishes and leftovers. It was nice, doing something so domestic with Joel. You fit together by the sink and moved around each other in the kitchen like you’d done it before, like it was comfortable. You’d never smiled so much while doing dishes in your life.

“There is something I wanted to ask you about, honey.” You turned to look at him where he was washing a pot as you dried your plates.

“Oh? About what?” You saw a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth and narrowed your eyes.

“Just about what you said, when we were in bed after our first date.” You flushed, feeling the heat enter your cheeks. But you also appreciated that Joel was bringing this up while you were doing something so totally unrelated to sex. So you could focus. Or try to, anyway.

“Yeah, I remember.” You bit your lip.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, well, did you, um. Can you tell me more about what you like? And don’t like? I like the sound of it, you know that, but I’d never want to get it wrong.”

“Um, yes. I, well. I like waking up and already…” You took a deep breath and told yourself to act like a freaking adult. “I like to already be having sex, basically. To wake up with your mouth on– on my pussy. Or your fingers inside of me. Or your cock.” You felt more than saw Joel’s sharp intake of breath and smiled. “It’s difficult to do that last one without waking me up, but it’s my favorite.”

Joel coughed. “I, um, I really want that, too.” You finally met his gaze with your own and you could see how much he wanted it. You held your breath. “Shit, sweetheart, that sounds so fucking good. I just… since you’d be asleep, I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing. Since I can’t check in with you.”

You put down the plate you’d finished drying five minutes ago and turned towards him, taking his hands in yours and drying them off with the towel. “I trust you, Joel. I know you’d do it how I wanted – make sure I’m ready, and all that.” You finished drying his hands and put the towel down on the counter before lacing your fingers through his. You considered your next words. “I don’t… we can use a safe word. We don’t have to talk about all of that right now.” He squeezed your hands in response. “But I do have one. We can use it, so you know when my reactions are good and if they’re not. I know I can’t use it while I’m asleep, but it could help.” He disentangled and lifted one hand to place it under your chin and guide your eyes back up to meet his.

“I’d like that, honey. And I’d like to talk about that more later, what other things you might like. That we might like together. But we can take it slow.” You nodded, smiling. “And, um. Well. Remember when I told you there were issues with Sarah’s mom that she didn’t know about?”

You nodded. “I do, but Joel, you don’t have to explain now–”

“No, I mean,” he interrupted you but then took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say, part of it was that we weren’t really compatible. At all. She thought, well. That some of the things I like are…” He trailed off and you tilted your chin to press a kiss to the hand still cupping your face, encouraging him. “She thought I was strange for wantin’ ‘em. Like all the sweet things I like to call you, honey, and how I like to call you mine. To her it was too much, not what she wanted. We can talk about it more but like I said, we can take it slow. Figure it out together.”

You felt the shiver run up your spine at the idea of learning what more he might like to try with you. “I just asked you to fuck me while I’m asleep, I think we can be honest with each other.” He grinned.

“So, tomorrow morning? Want me to try it?” You nodded. “I need to hear your words, sweetheart.” As he asked he slipped his right hand around the back of your neck and pulled you closer. His lips brushed yours and you shivered.

“Yes, Joel,” you felt your pulse pick up at the idea and heard the hitch in your breath.

“Yeah, baby? You’d want to wake up with me already inside you?” Your eyes fell closed and you nodded. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, just in front of your ear. “Maybe my fingers? Maybe my tongue?” He licked the shell of your ear. You shivered and your hips squirmed as you pressed your thighs together. “You want to wake up to find my cock already deep inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed again. “I love it. Yes, please —” you cut off as he gripped your chin in his hand.

“Shhh, honey. Shit, what a good girl you are, letting me slip inside you while you’re asleep, huh? Take whatever I want? Give you what I want?” You sighed. “Can’t believe it. So fucking perfect for me.” He kissed your neck again as his thumb covered your lips, holding your mouth closed. He took a deep breath and relaxed again.

“Well, honey, I told you before. I’ll give you whatever you want. So I guess we’ll see in the morning, hmm?” You grinned under his finger and nodded. “But maybe we can get started right now.”

...

Sunday, November 10 Eleventh week of the semester

In the morning, Joel woke up first. Before he even opened his eyes, he felt the warmth — the warmth of the sun through the window, the bed beneath him, and the soft wonder of your body against his. You’d moved in the night, but not much. He was still wrapped around you, just with more space between your bodies, his right arm thrown across your waist. He blinked his eyes open slowly, careful not to move as he took in a deep breath and just looked at you.

You were on your side, turned away from him, but he could see the outline of your profile over your shoulder. You were peaceful in your sleep, mouth slightly open, eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. He stared, almost stunned to find you with him in bed again. How did I get so fucking lucky?

As he looked at you, careful not to move his arm, your discussion from last night came back to him and suddenly he was hard. He was so fucking hard, his cock filling so fast it took his breath away as the blood rushed south.

You wanted him to be inside of you when you woke up. It was a fucking dream even thinking about it. He wanted it, fuck, he wanted it so fucking bad, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. How could he manage it, without waking you?

He kept his breathing even, despite his cock urging him forward, and considered what to do. It was still early, and you’d told him you liked to sleep in on weekends. So maybe he had time on his side. (He always woke up early, because of Sarah.) The first thing he needed to do was get rid of his briefs.

Joel slowly, gently, pulled his arm up from around you. You shifted in your sleep, but he moved slowly and successfully snuck it away. You settled back into your pillow and remained deeply asleep. He sighed in victory.

Slowly, cautiously, careful not to shake the bed, he reached down to slide his briefs off, kicking them somewhere in the sheets. He watched you the whole time, but you breathed evenly, slowly. Still asleep. He smiled. Maybe he could do this.

He rolled back onto his side and considered you. You were a few inches from him. Maybe if he slowly came up behind you you’d snuggle into him in your sleep, making it easier to touch. He nodded to himself. That was probably the best way to start.

Slowly, trying to move like he was asleep himself, he scooted towards you on the bed until his chest came back into contact with your back. He slowed even more there, gently pressing against you until you responded in your sleep — your body titled back against his, moving unconsciously together until he had you spooned in front of him again. He was careful to angle his cock down, not to get it stuck against your ass. (Even though the thought of pressing in between your cheeks almost had him thrusting forward, overcome with want.)

Joel took a moment to breathe in his success. He had you wrapped in his arms again, and he could feel your naked ass pressed against his pelvis. It was so fucking good already. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He was close to what he wanted, but he didn’t want to fuck this up.

He carefully curled his body so his hips moved forwards, and his breath caught as his cock almost arrived right where he wanted it. The tip poked at the join of your thighs, and he sighed. Now what? How would he get any closer? He paused to consider his options again.

But you, it turned out, were on board, even in your sleep. Suddenly you let out a tiny, breathless moan, and he stilled. Peering over your shoulder, he saw that you were still asleep. A dream? He grinned. He could work with that.

Leaving his hips where they were for now, he lightly ran his fingertips up your torso until he was cupping your breast. He tried to use the lightest touch, to encourage your dream without waking you up. He teased the very tip of one finger over your nipple and your body relaxed against him, like you were a puppet and your strings were cut. He stilled again, but you were still asleep. He was on the right track.

He watched your face intently as he lightly teased your nipple with his fingertip. In your sleep, your mouth opened wider, and you sighed. He was mesmerized, watching as your tongue peeked out of your mouth, the tip just touching your bottom lip. He realized his own mouth was hanging open, the desire to lick inside yours almost palpable in the air around him. He suppressed a shiver.

Suddenly, you tilted your head to the side and whispered something. He leaned closer, not quite hearing you. To his great joy, you did it again, and he realized you had whispered his name. “Joel…” he grinned. He had to have you, just like this. Had to give you exactly what you wanted. He just had to figure out what to do about your legs.

He looked down and saw that your feet were twisting in the sheets. He wondered if this was his chance. Lightly slipping from your breast, he slowly moved his hand down to your thigh. You muttered something, but a quick check showed him you were still very much asleep. He only needed an inch, at most.

Ever so lightly, he gripped your thigh and pressed to ease it upwards. You were so fucking responsive, even in your sleep — you followed his instructions perfectly and your thighs shifted just enough for his cock to slip between them. He gasped, and then stilled as his eyes quickly sought your face again. Still asleep. He moved back to his previous position, hand on your breast, before thrusting slowly forward. His cock lined up perfect against your slit, and his eyes almost rolled back when he realized how fucking wet you were. Again. Fuck. His cock glided smoothly against you and he had to fight to keep from letting himself thrust inside, from filling you up right then and there.

Joel teased lightly at your nipple as he gently pulled back again before thrusting his hips forward once more. This time his cock nestled inside your folds and he heard a breathy little moan punch itself out of you when the tip of his cock nudged your clit. He grinned. Yes.

He kept that up for a few more thrusts — gentle movement, he told himself, slow and steady, so fucking wet, sliding so easily against you, fuck — watching your face like a hawk for any trace of wakefulness.

On the next pass, his cock almost caught against your entrance, and he stifled a deep moan of his own. Fuck me. That was the final hurdle, he knew. How could he slip inside you without waking you up? He’d have to go slow, ease into you, so slow and smooth you’d never notice.

He forced himself to keep his hands light, not to grip or pull or tug. At the same time his hips moved with almost terrifying precision. He knew you were wet enough, and still ready from last night. He just had to take the final step.

Joel took a deep breath and, eyes still locked on your face, let himself nudge at your entrance on the next thrust. He stopped there, just there, with the tip of his cock nestled right at the place he most wanted to be.

His heartbeat was racing and he felt winded. He wondered if his pounding heart would wake you before his cock did.

Gently, so gently it almost knocked him out, he pushed forward with his hips. The head of his cock pushed against you before sliding past your entrance, stopping just inside. Joel realized his mouth was hanging open as he stared at you. He felt torn. He wanted to look down, to see, but he was afraid if he looked away even for a moment you’d wake up. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on your face.

He pushed forward again, and he felt his cock sink deeper inside you. Fuck. Your cunt was fucking perfect. He had no idea how you could be so fucking wet all the time. Were you always like this? You’d said it was just for him, but did that mean you were always like this around him? Shit. Hold it together.

He was panting. He tried to keep it quiet, but it was so much. So fucking much. He blinked to keep his eyes from closing.

Joel took a deep breath, still focused on you, and took one more gentle thrust to slide himself all the way home. He bit down so hard on his lip to fight back a moan he was worried he drew blood. He realized he’d let go of your breast to clutch at the comforter beneath you and was in danger of leaning his weight forward to fall on top of you. He stilled. He panted. He stared at your face.

You were somehow still asleep. How?

He took the gift he was offered and moved. His hips pulled gently back, and he felt every inch of your cunt squeeze tight around his cock as he pulled out, until only the head of his cock was left stretching your entrance open. He breathed in through his nose, and then breathed out steadily while thrusting back in at that same slow, infuriating pace. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me.

He managed three or four more agonizing thrusts, doing everything he could to be silent and gentle, to keep you sleeping while he fucked you. He realized now the goal was for you to wake up, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. He paused inside you after his next thrust, taking a deep breath, looking over your slumbering face. He started to smile.

Slowly, gently, he leaned down towards your neck as he pulled almost all the way out of you again. As he slid home this time, just a tiny bit faster, he pressed a kiss to your neck, right under your ear. You moaned. His smile turned feral.

He continued like that, thrusting inwards and pressing kisses to your neck and your shoulder, getting wetter and sloppier each time. Your breaths started to come faster and faster, and then he noticed your hips were starting to push back against his.

His eyes flew back to your face. He had to see it. He wanted to see the exact moment you woke up and realized he was doing as you asked, he was doing what you wanted. He was giving it to you just right.

He wanted to push you over the edge. On his next thrust he cupped your breast again, and your voice was clearer this time, calling out to him in your sleep. “Yes, Joel, yes,” he teased your nipple and thrust forward. “Joel,” you called out, brow furrowing. He knew it was coming. He stared at you, and on the next thrust, he pinched your nipple at the same moment his cock bottomed out inside of you.

It was fucking heaven. Fucking transcendent. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Your hands grasped at nothing until they found his arm, and you clutched at him. He pulled out again and thrust back inside you, hard, and you cried out. He smiled.

…

You were having the most amazing dream. Everything was warmth and pleasure and there was a man holding you and you knew it was Joel. Joel, wrapped around you. You were floating together, somehow, twisting together as he spooned you from behind, but somehow also kissed you and touched you, everywhere. You sighed.

His embrace tightened and you hitched your leg over his. “Mm, that’s my good girl,” you heard him say, and it melted through you like hot chocolate. “That’s it, baby. Show me.” You weren’t sure what he wanted you to show him, so you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. “Fuck yeah, baby. Let me see that tongue.”

Dream Joel, somehow spooning you and making out with you at the same time, licked your tongue as you stuck it out for him. The slide of your tongues together made you press your thighs tight. “You’re so goddamn hot baby,” he muttered in your ear while making out with you. You moaned back, somehow still kissing him, “Joel.” He grinned at you, wicked and intent. He bent down suddenly to lick at your nipples and you gasped. “Joel!” He smiled and you hummed at the feeling of him worshiping your tits.

In your dream the two of you were floating upwards, towards something — there was light above you, and warmth below you. Everything felt amazing.

Dream Joel ran his hands down your body, grasping at your hips and your legs. You smiled. “Love the way you look, honey,” he murmured, and you told him you loved the way he looked, too. He smiled. “Open up for me, then, sweet thing. Let me inside.” You did as he asked and opened your legs. Dream Joel, talented man that he was, managed to kiss you and eat you out at the same time, and you sighed into it, mouth opening for him again. And then you felt something warm and hard and gorgeous slide against your pussy. You sighed and pushed back onto it.

“Inside, Joel,” you tried to demand, your voice weak and breathy. He chuckled, darkly. “Not yet baby, wanna feel you.” He slid his cock back and forth against your soaking wet pussy and you moaned. “You feel so good on my cock, honey. You hear that?” You listened, and you heard him panting behind you, heard the slick glide of his cock as it nestled in your folds. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re so wet for me.”

“Always,” you sighed out.

“I know you are, baby. Can’t stop thinking about it, about sneaking my fingers inside your underwear everywhere we go, see if you’re ready for me. Ready for me to slip inside you, no matter where we are.”

You nodded. “Always ready for you, Joel. Always want you inside me. Want you inside me right now.”

“Honey I told you, I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t you worry.” Dream Joel slid back again, and on his next thrust his cock notched right at your entrance, and you sighed. “Yes, please, Joel.”

“Shhh, honey. Just let me give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want, you know that. All you have to do is lie there and take it.” You moaned as he pressed the head of his cock inside of you. It felt huge and perfect and warm and like you never wanted to be without it.

Dream Joel rubbed his hands up your torso as he fucked into you from behind. “That’s it, honey. Take me inside you. Let me fill you up. Let me stuff my cum so deep inside of you it’ll be dripping out for hours.” Your breath caught at the idea and you started to breathe harder and faster. He pinched your nipples and thrust into you, hard. “Feel it, honey? Feel how perfectly my cock fits inside this cunt?”

“Yes, Joel, yes,” you cried, almost crying for real. “I need it.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he crooned, softly. “You’re such a good girl, you know that? Such a good fucking girl for me. Letting me put my cock inside you whenever I want, letting me fill you up. Sitting on my cock like an angel. Like you were meant to be right here, in my lap.” Dream Joel thrust inside of you again, and you cried out.

“Joel, please,” you sighed as your brows pinched together. The dream suddenly felt so real, so physical, you couldn’t figure out which way was up or down. You were spinning, falling, and when you crash landed back into your body you gasped.

Your eyes flew open and all you could feel was Joel. He was fucking everywhere. His body was pressed all along your back, his fingers pinched your nipple, his mouth was on your jaw.

And his cock was hard, and it was deep, deep inside of you.

Your head flew back as you gasped for air, staring up at the ceiling without seeing. Your hands grasped for purchase on something, anything that would hold you there, keep you from flying apart and spiraling into the air, until they found his arm and you held on for dear life. Suddenly Joel pulled his hips back and then thrust inside of you, hard. You cried out, maybe his name, maybe no words at all. Fuck. You needed to catch your breath. Your hips were pinned under his, your pussy wet and dripping and tightening around his cock. You could feel a tear slip from your eye to land on the pillow under your head. Fuck me.

Before you could even try to make sense of your surroundings, to catch your breath, Joel’s lips found your ear.

“Good morning, honey.” His voice was deep and rumbling and fucking vicious. He thrust inside you again, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Your next breath came out like a sob. “How’d you sleep?” You felt a tear form at the edge of your eye again, and he curled forward to kiss it away. “Shh, baby, you’re ok. You’re so fucking good, honey, my good fucking girl.” He thrust inside of you again, and his cock slid against you so easily, so wonderfully, that you breathed through another sob. “Honey?”

You realized, distantly, that he was starting to worry about you. You squeezed his arm. You had to say something.

“Y— yes, Joel. Yes.” You felt him grin against your shoulder.

“Yeah, honey? That feel good?” You nodded, frantically, reaching one hand back to grasp at his hip. “You want it bad, don’t you? Want this cock to split you open?” Your breath hitched, again. “Want me to push deep inside you, don’t you, sweet thing? Fill you up? Leave you fucking dripping?”

Real Joel echoing Dream Joel spun you upwards again, disorienting you in your pleasure. You whined, and thrust your hips backwards towards him. He pulled out and slammed his cock back into you, pulling back on your hip to urge you onto him. “Fuck, honey, you need it, don’t you? You need it so bad.” You could only grasp at him and nod, feeling another tear run down the side of your face. He kissed that one away, too.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. You can have this cock whenever you want.” He thrust forward again, pinning you to the bed. Your right knee bent in front of you and he followed, curving his body into the same position, somehow driving his cock deeper. “It’s yours. Yours to use, honey. Yours to touch, to lick, to sit on whenever you want.” He started up a steady pace, pushing his cock inside of you so deeply, so right on every thrust. Your face was turned, left side on the pillow, profile still open to him. He pressed kisses everywhere he could reach.

“I’m going to make you come, honey. And I want to see it.” He curved his right hand over your hip, seeking out your clit with his fingers. “I want you to come on my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me, baby, squeeze me so fucking tight.” You sighed into the pillow. “Can you do that for me? Yeah, ‘course you can. Be a good girl, honey, and come for me.”

His fingers started circling your clit, and you felt it building inside of you like a tidal wave. It was almost too much, so much, more than you could handle. You were actually crying now, tears running down your face that he kissed away. “J— Joel,” you whined, and he twisted to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“That’s right, honey. Let me have it. It’s mine.”

Something about the way he claimed it, claimed you, sent you over the edge. You flew over it, into the air, twisting, falling, electrified. The orgasm erupted through you, and you felt more wet gush out of you, absolutely soaking his cock. He groaned.

“Holy fucking shit, honey. Yes. Fucking give it to me.” He talked you through it, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. It shuddered through you and you clamped down on him as your orgasm crested. You sobbed one more time, and he bit down on your shoulder to ground you.

As you came down, you realized his hips were speeding up. You whined and thrust your hips backwards again. You wanted it. You wanted him, inside of you, dripping out of you, like he promised. He nodded, seeming to understand.

“That’s right, honey. I’m going to give it to you. That’s what good girls get, right? And you were perfect, honey. My good fucking girl.” You clutched at the pillow as you pushed your hips back, trying to tilt them to give him the best angle. He sank deeper, somehow, and moaned. “I’m going to give it to you so deep, baby, so fucking deep.” He sighed, dreamily. “Fuck.”

His thrusts picked up, and you let yourself drift, feeling perfectly used as Joel pumped his hips into yours. His thrusts caught, uneven, and you heard him groan from deep in his chest. He clutched at you, with one final, devastating thrust, and came. His mouth was hot on your ear as he said your name in a voice that made it sound like a prayer.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were both breathing hard, and you were a fucking mess — wet, everywhere — cum all over, sweaty, and tears that had dripped down your face and soaked your pillow.

Joel sucked in a deep breath and carefully, gently, pulled out of you. You still gasped — you were sensitive from the night before, still, and he’d just fucked you so hard you’d cried, for god’s sake — but he was so soft and gentle with you that it barely hurt.

He flopped to your left on the bed, and with a groan, you heaved yourself onto your right side so you could look at him. You fell in the wet spot, but honestly, the entire bed was probably a wet spot at that point.

He turned his head, and for a minute you just looked at each other. You’d thought you’d seen him wrecked before, but that was nothing. You could see, now, what it actually looked like. And he was wrecked. You imagined you were the same. His hair was wild, his face was awestruck. He was red and sweaty and fucking beautiful.

Slowly, he started to smile, and you returned it. Then he laughed, and you laughed back. Soon you were both giggling into your pillows, curled towards each other, linking fingers in the damp sheets.

Joel took a deep breath, and managed to stop giggling long enough to say, “I think you might have killed me, honey. Can’t move my legs.” You giggled and buried your face in the pillow. “No, I’m serious. First you knock me over with the idea of fucking you awake, much less telling me to do it? Jesus, I almost came before I ever got inside of you, trying to figure out how to do it without waking you up. Best fucking idea I’ve ever heard, honey, shit. Holy fucking shit.” He sounded winded, and awestruck. Like he couldn’t believe that just happened. “You were so beautiful, baby, taking it so well, even in your sleep. Couldn’t tear my eyes away from you.” He sighed, grinning. “Jesus, when can we do it again? I wanna do it again. How’s every goddamn morning sound to you?” You laughed outright. He cleared his throat. “Was it, um. Was it what you wanted?” He looked hopeful, and a tiny bit worried. You didn’t know how he could be, not after you came harder than you ever had in your life. So you told him that.

“Joel. I just came harder than I ever have in my entire life.” You figured he needed to hear it, and his answering grin told you he appreciated it. “I can’t feel my legs, either.” He laughed, and you tracked it across his face. Beautiful. “It was so fucking perfect. I was having the best dream about you, I guess because of what you were doing to me for real, and then suddenly the dream and reality came together and I— fuck.” You closed your eyes against the memory of that moment. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“It was fucking beautiful to watch,” he murmured, eyes traveling over your face and chest. “Never seen anything like that, either.”

You smiled. “In my dream you were fucking me from behind, and it just… melted into real life. I felt like I fell back into myself and couldn’t tell up from down in the best fucking way.” You bit your lip. “Every morning, huh?” He winked at you. “I dunno, if you make me come like that every day I might not make it to work.” He laughed, and finally reached for you again. You went easily as he pulled you into his chest, pressing your bodies together. You sighed, sinking into him happily.

“You fit so well in my arms, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. “Let’s just stay right here, for a while.”

You hummed, agreeing, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You were both quiet for a moment, just letting the moment wash over you, when you felt him tense.

“Joel?” You questioned lightly, wondering what he was thinking.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat. “Just want to make sure of something, honey. You were, well, the crying. Was that… ok?” He sounded so careful, so worried, it made your heart clench.

“Yes, Joel. That wasn’t just ok.” You tilted your head back to meet his eye so he could see the sincerity on your face. “It was exactly what I wanted. It was perfect.” He relaxed, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Sometimes I cry during sex. Not all the time, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing when it happens. Like just now, it was a really, really good thing.”

“That’s what I thought,” he nodded, “but I wanted to make sure I was reading you right. Would be a pretty upsetting thing to get wrong.”

The two of you nestled back into each other, holding tight, breathing in deep together as you came down from the intensity of the sex you’d just had. It had been beautiful, and rough, and exactly what you wanted, and now you were worn out. In his arms was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while you started to doze off again, but you didn’t want to sleep the morning away, so you shook yourself back awake. You stretched, idly, and you felt Joel’s gaze on you. You looked up to find him admiring your legs as you stretched them along the bed.

“See something you like, cowboy?”

He smiled. “You know I do, gorgeous.”

“Want to get up, grab some breakfast, maybe?” Joel smiled and nodded, but pulled you in rather than letting you get up.

“Maybe in a few minutes.”

You smiled.

…

Joel drove you to a diner about halfway between your apartment and his house. You’d never been there, but had driven past it many times, and told him so.

“This is a favorite of ours,” he told you as you both climbed out of his truck. “Sarah usually demands it at least once a month. We have family breakfast with Tommy.” You smiled at the thought.

Breakfast was easy, full of easy conversation and light teasing. Joel snuck some of your food and you retaliated by drinking some of his coffee. His feet nudged yours under the table as he grinned at you, and you rested your chin in your hand to watch him watch you across the table. It really drove home for you how much you liked being around Joel. The sex had been mind-blowing, obviously, like always, but you’d also spent weeks circling each other before finally starting to get to know each other over lunches and coffees and now dates. Every moment you spent with him showed you there was something more, here. It was in the way he couldn’t look away from you, the way he listened so carefully, like he always did, as you told him silly stories about the diner in your hometown. The way he remembered tiny details from everything you’d ever told him. You felt yourself falling, just like you’d told Beth.

It was scary, but it was also pretty wonderful.

...

a/n: 😏

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reiderwriter · 8 months

Note

Hi :) I've never requested before and am a little embarrassed to be here. But I'm also in my Spencer Reid Brainrot era and am a fan of your writing! I was thinking something with a virgin female reader who is genophobic (specifically fear of vaginal penetration, in her case) and Spencer helps her work through her fear and try something new? She doesnt need to have trauma, just the phobia. Either BAU or non BAU reader is fine, just as long as they aren't initially dating and there is a slow build up to the intimacy. Also, could it be race-blind? (e.g "I could see she was embarrassed" instead of "her cheeks turned pink") Fluff, smut, and mutual pining. Ack, please it would make my MONTH!!

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: I really hope I did this one justice!! It was fun to research and write and ahhh the slow burn (which was definitely a lot faster than it should have been if I had more time 🫣 sorry). I hope you like it!

W/C: 5k

Warnings: Genophobia (fear of sexual intimacy), panic attack, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), virgin reader, inexperienced Spencer, two idiots in love again, vaginal sex, fingering, contraception actually used! Mainly soft and sweet sex 😊

Find my masterlist here! Get ready for kinktober with me here!

It was your worst nightmare come true.

You’d had a crush on Spencer for the last three years, working with him in the BAU since Elle had left. You’d joined the team alongside Emily and immediately become enamored with the boy genius, and how could you not? He was smart, and handsome, and most importantly, he respected boundaries.

But here he was in front of you, probably saying the words that you most wanted to hear from him, but he was so close, your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest, your breath short and your eyes hazy and unfocused for all the wrong reasons.

“Just… If you don’t feel the same, I understand and I’ll never mention it again, but if there’s any chance that you.. That you love me the same way I love you, please tell me.” He had you boxed in against the wall, not touching you exactly, but so close you could feel his breath on your neck, could see the desperation in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you.

The man of your dreams was confessing his love to you, and you were on the verge of a panic attack at his attention.

“Spencer, I have to go,” you gasped out, grasping your chest as you begged your lungs to start working again, as you begged your mouth to stay and explain. But the tears were burning in the corners of your eyes and you had to run from the intimacy of the moment. “I have to... I’m sorry, Spencer, I can’t…” You didn’t get any other words out before you bolted out the door, desperate to find a bathroom stall to cry in. You weren’t sure if the tears were from the very real fear you’d just confronted or the realization that you’d probably just ruined your chances with Spencer Reid.

–X–

A week later, and the awkward tension between the two of you hadn’t dissipated. You wanted to explain yourself, of course, you did, but with the hurt look on Spencer’s face shooting through you every time you were at the other end of his gaze, combined with the absolute fear of being known and judged, you had guiltily kept your mouth shut.

The rest of the team had noticed, of course. The two of you were sending pining looks after one another whenever the other had their back turned, even when preoccupied with a prolific highway murderer, the team would be blind not to see it. Unfortunately for you, the members of the BAU weren’t the ones to let the tension go unconfronted, so you found yourself in increasingly solitary situations, alone but for the company of Spencer himself.

You’d been assigned to work the geographical profile with Spencer, despite usually working alongside Hotch, more used to comforting and interviewing families than analyzing charts and maps. The opportunity to explain had been handed to you on a silver platter, and you had to take it.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blurted the words out after an unbearably long silence, having watched the man read case file after case file while you distractedly bumbled along beside him.

He paused and gave a small nod, bringing his head up, but not quite meeting your gaze.

“When you… When you said those things last week, did you mean them?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.” The words were tense, but his voice was soft, his eyes holding a resigned look.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry, shit, everything I say is going to sound like an excuse but I’m so sorry…” you rambled, trying to work up the courage to say what you actually wanted to.

“You don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same way I do. It’s okay, I know I’m not the easiest person to love and-”

“You are. You are, Spencer, don’t even think that you are the problem here, because you are not.” You gasped for breath as you pushed the words out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself with the conviction of your tone.

“I love you, Spencer, I do, I just…” You blinked back the tears again as your voice suddenly became a whisper.

“You know when we talked about our… our fears a few weeks back? And I said that I didn’t have anything specific that came to mind?” He listened attentively as you stuttered out the words.

“I lied. When… people get close to me, and when they get close to me in a way that specifically suggests that… suggests that they like me the way you like me, my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. Spencer, I’m… I’m scared of sex.”

You let the confession hang in the air between you, almost afraid to look up and see the sympathetic look in Spencer’s eyes. But you had to eventually, and you were surprised.

The man wasn’t even looking at you, and his expression couldn’t even be described as concerned, let alone empathetic.

“Spencer? Did you hear what I said?” He looked up and smiled at you, keeping his distance still, but opening up to you, facing you with open body language, putting all his attention on you without moving even an inch closer.

“Genophobia. Y/N, you’re describing Genophobia. It’s the fear of physical intimacy that often stems from a fear of pain during sexual intimacy or from physical symptoms, such as Vaginosis. Y/N, you don’t hate me.” His grin widened, and you let out a little laugh at the hopeful look on his face as he breathed out that last statement.

“No, no Spencer, I couldn’t hate you.”

“Good, because I thought I’d taken it too far… Nevermind. Y/N, is… is this something you want to work through?” His tone was cautious, and you were touched by the seriousness he was approaching with. Your previous boyfriends had mocked you when you explained why you couldn’t have sex with them, few as they may have been. You’d never been treated with such gentleness.

“Yes. I really want to work through it, but… Spencer, it might take a long time. Is that okay?” He considered your question for a minute, then replied with his own.

“Y/N, can I lean in and kiss your cheek, please? I won’t touch you anywhere else, I just want…please?” You felt a warmth bubbling under your cheeks at the situation, your tongue growing thick in your mouth, not allowing you to respond. You opted for a small nod instead, watching his every move as he slowly moved in.

Placing his hands on the table, he lifted himself up from his chair, keeping them firmly planted there so you could see that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. His lips finally hit your cheek, and your heart started beating in that familiar way that it usually did, but you forced yourself to hold still until he pulled away. He did so quickly.

“Y/N, I don’t care how long it takes you to be comfortable with me. I’m just happy you chose me.” He finished, then grabbed a file and exited the room, leaving you alone again to calm your heart and un-fog your brain.

–X–

The case closed a few days later, but you didn’t have another chance to talk to Spencer anymore about your relationship, being so caught up in serving justice to the families of the victims. But as Friday approached, your job was finished, an unsub handed over to the authorities ready for prosecution, and you could finally fly back home.

Which is how you found yourself, on the last evening of the work week, pacing outside of his apartment, freaking out about whether you should knock or not. You’d held your hand up to knock a few times, but ultimately let it fall to your side, cursing your cowardice. It was just a door. He was just a man. A man who really cared about you. A man who wanted you. That thought should have had you jumping into his arms at every given opportunity, instead, it was causing heart palpitations at the thought of knocking on a door.

In the end, you didn’t have to knock.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” You heard his voice from behind you as you jumped in place, startled by the fact that he was actually there.

“Shit, Spencer, don’t do that, you scared me.” You grabbed your chest and took a deep breath. He stood still, waiting for your answer to his previous question.

“I was just… Can I come in?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah of course, here let me…” His words trailed off as he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly as he struggled to get the key into the door.

“Take a seat wherever you… Can, I guess? Sorry, I was doing some reading before I left.” He smiled awkwardly as you walked into the space, and you giggled a little at the confession, seeing that there was really only one open space on the couch left for you to occupy without having to perch awkwardly on the arm of the chair.

You took the seat, moving a single book onto a stack on the sofa next to you, and watched the man as he took off his scarf and coat, storing them and then awkwardly turning back to the couch. He looked around for a place to sit, and, coming to the same conclusion as you did, chose to perch himself on the opposite arm of the sofa to you.

“Oh, Spencer, this is your house, you should sit comfortably.”

“No, you’re a guest, it’s fine. I want you to feel comfortable. What did you want to talk about?” He cleared his throat a little and then turned his eyes back to you, signaling that he was ready to listen attentively.

“Oh…. I was hoping…. Spencer, can you touch me?” You saw his face flush at your suggestion, and your eyes widened at your own foolish wording.

“Shit, not like that. Not that I don’t want you to touch me like that, but I think it’s too soon, and I’m still not comfortable with that. I was just hoping that you could, you know, hold me for a while, like a hug or something?” You rambled it all out, and you could hear yourself rambling but you couldn’t stop it. The words dropped from your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and you felt the blood rush to your head as you cringed slightly at the situation.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’re…. You’re okay with that?” You asked, looking hopefully up at Spencer.

“Do you want to sit together, or were you thinking something else?” You jumped up from your seat then, and glanced around the room as you considered his words.

“Oh, um, sitting together would be good I suppose?” He nodded and lifted himself up from the arm, moving closer to you.

“I’m going to sit here, you should probably just join me when you want to, okay?” He whispered the words with a tender smile on his face, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders disappear. It was incredible that he could do that with a simple smile, that with one glance he could relax your whole body enough to let you push yourself to the limits of your fear.

You gained some confidence, and after letting him get settled in the seat you had just vacated, you moved to straddle his lap. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, nervously wondering if what you were doing was right.

“Is this okay for you, Y/N?” He asked, stuttering through the words as he struggled to stay focused on you.

“It’s okay now. I want to push myself a little.” You ran your hands down his arms, which had so far lain politely still on the sofa beside him before you pulled them around yourself, letting the hug deepen. He was warm, and between the two of you, you weren’t sure whose heartbeat was louder. You could hear both of them, the room totally still except for your breaths and blinks.

“Y/N, can I… can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered the word in a voice so small, you were sure he hadn’t heard it, as his head crept towards you so slowly you were sure he wasn’t moving. Eventually, you felt his breath on your skin more, and then his lips were softly pressing against your own, the pressure gentle, not demanding any more than what you were currently giving him.

You melted into it, pushing yourself further into his warmth, your chests now pressed together as he languidly moved his lips against yours, claiming them again and again and again. You kept pushing and pushing into him, growing more sloppy in your kisses, grabbing onto the back of his sweater with two desperate fists, needing him close.

It wasn’t until your hips bucked involuntarily in his lap, unconsciously demanding friction that you began to panic once again, immediately pulling your lips and torso out of his reach.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… shit it’s not you, Spencer. God, I’m such an idiot.” You pulled your hands over your eyes, embarrassed at the thought of being seen by him right then, but still firmly seated in his lap.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face with a gentle touch. “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You nodded at his words and took a few more minutes to compose yourself.

“Can we…can we just cuddle for a while? Like this?” You asked, and his smile instantly became bright.

“I would love to. Let’s move some of these books though.” You shifted the books quickly and then fell back into his lap, his body now laying more vertically than before, stretching out into the larger space now available on the couch. You pushed your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, following it with your own, and letting it be the soundtrack to your descent into sleep.

–X–

Waking up in his arms was a life-changing experience. Sometime during your sleep, he had carried you to his bed, letting you sleep soundly as he made you more comfortable. He hadn’t taken any of your clothes off, of course, just removed your shoes and made sure you were warm enough in the skirt and blouse you had been wearing.

Your position had changed, too, and it was one of the first things you noticed as you blinked your eyes open, trying to rid them of sleep as you greeted the new day. Instead of being below you, he was behind you, pressed against you with a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like a child clutching a favored toy.

“Spence,” you whispered through a grin. “Spencer, wake up.” You turned your head around to him, but he moaned in his sleep, not wanting to leave his rest just yet. You giggled at his childlike petulance, trying to shift around to face him, but his grip was too tight. Pushing against him, you felt something, hard, pushing against your back. You shifted again, but it was still there, and it took you only a few more seconds to figure out what it was.

“Shit, Spencer, wake up,” your tone probably sounded more frantic than you felt, as it woke him quickly now, his body releasing yours enough to let him pull himself up, taking stock of the room as he looked around searching for what had panicked you.

“What is it, are you okay?” He returned his eyes to your face, but your gaze had slipped down his body, and through the much looser fitting sweatpants he’d thrown on at some point during the night, you could see the outline of his cock.

Curiously, the very sight didn’t have you bolting, as it had in situations in the past. You had frozen, of course, but you weren’t filled with as much dread as you had been only a few days prior with his confession.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s a biological reaction and… well it’s not purely biological, I do really have feelings for you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, and… Let me go and get rid of this.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could completely pull away, his hand still resting on your waist.

“Wait… Could we continue from where we were last night?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment of your words sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, almost forcing you to take them back immediately.

“You… you want that?” For the second time in 24 hours, a whispered ‘yes’ was all it took to have him crash his lips into yours. The pressure was the same, but with his body hovering over yours, it felt even more intimate. His hands rubbed small reassuring circles on your hips, as you opened up to him, wanting to pull the full force of his weight down onto you.

His hand fell to your face as he encouraged you to open your mouth to his tongue, letting him explore it thoroughly as he lazily worked his mouth against your own. There was no fight for dominance here, just two people deeply exploring the feeling of one another, so wrapped up in the pleasure that no other thoughts could cross your minds. Not even that of fear.

He pulled away for a breath, and your lips trailed him, trying to capture him again and force him back to you, but he evaded you softly.

“Y/N, can I try something? I want to touch you…more. Is that okay?” You were so desperate for the feeling of his lips against yours again that you moaned out the yes before you even processed his words. His lips fell back against yours, but his weight shifted above you as his right hand trailed down your leg and then back up underneath your skirt.

The touch was so delicate that you shivered under the attention, but you felt your heart start beating faster and faster as he got closer to your center. He asked you once again, and you agreed before he finally touched you through the safety of your panties.

You moaned into the kiss as he cupped you, letting his thumb fall to your clit and beginning to explore you more. He swallowed each and every sound you made with his lips, committing every move you made, every reaction to memory. You grew more pliable under all his attentions, growing comfortable in reacting to his every movement, letting him control the pace and flow of your shared caresses. A heat was growing at the depth of your stomach, and you knew it was coming.

Your brain finally kicked back into gear as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes jolting open as he released your mouth, the breathless moan that erupted from you causing your entire body to tense up. You pushed him away, and clutched your chest, scrambling up into a seated position as he quickly noted the change in your body language, letting you out of his grip.

You struggled to get your breathing out of control, desperately searching for a way out, an excuse, or anything to say to make you feel better, but you came up blank.

“I’m sorry… I’m really…” You couldn’t force out any other words before you jumped out of his bed and bolted out of the apartment, having ruined everything again for the second time.

–X–

Another week ticked by before you knew it, and you still hadn’t talked to Spencer since he’d pushed you over the edge. The fact that he hadn’t tried to talk to you either had you convincing yourself that it meant whatever you shared was over now.

It was a nice feeling to share, but you couldn’t keep it up forever, just like you hadn’t been able to in any of your previous relationships. But there was something about Spencer that you didn’t want to give up on, so you didn’t.

You spent the week looking up advice on how to deal with your fear, booking appointments with Sex Therapists, and, to put it kindly, getting your body used to the idea of sexual interaction. You bought a small vibrator a day or two after you slept over at his house, nothing that would enter you, just something to play with to increase your confidence as you prepared yourself to apologize to him.

But despite all of your efforts, the tension was still running high in the team as they all noticed the sudden disconnect between you and your maybe-boyfriend.

So, with the newly discovered commitment to self-improvement, you found yourself at his door again on another Friday night, this time confidently knocking at the first attempt.

“Y/N, you’re here.” He said, mouth hanging open slightly as his unasked question hung in the air.

“I wanted to talk. About everything.”

“Sure, come in, come in.” He shut the door behind you, and you didn’t bother walking further than the entryway before you started again, not wanting to lose your conviction.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me. I freaked out last time, and I ran away, and that was so shitty of me, but I think I’m ready now - I went to see this therapist and she gave me some advice, and I’ve been… I’ve been touching myself so I can get myself used to the idea of someone else touching me. And you’re the only person who I want to touch and to touch me, and you’re everything I’ve been thinking about, and I don’t want you to avoid me anymore or think this isn’t going anywhere.” You were almost breathless as you finished, having let your sentences blur into one, not bothering to pause in your exploration.

“Oh, thank god,” Spencer said, wrapping his hands around you suddenly, pulling you to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. “Well, not thank god that you want to have sex with me, thank god that I didn’t push it too far. I thought you hated me after last time, I thought I was trying to selfishly get you to open up too quickly, and I felt so bad about it.” He rambled just the same as you had, not letting go of you for all the world.

“You know, I’ve checked out like 50 books on sexual psychology from the University library this week, I was afraid the librarian was going to call the police on me for creepy behavior or something.” He laughed into you, letting his head drop to your shoulder as he held you comfortably.

“Spencer, that is so sweet.” You felt the sugar in your grin, knowing that this unabashed happiness wasn’t going away anytime soon, any negative feelings at being held this closely dissipating when faced with the love of his actions.

“I’m going to ask again, is that okay?” You nodded at his boyish grin, and he grinned down at you fondly.

“Y/N, may I kiss-” You didn’t let him finish, pushing yourself up on your toes to lock your lips with his before he could.

“Yes. Always yes.” You said releasing him, foreheads resting together.

“I know, but I like to ask.” His lips were on you again then, as he walked you back through his apartment, not stopping once to release your lips. Before you knew it, he was picking you up, and gently returning you to the bed you’d bolted from the week before.

He released you for a breath, and you pushed your top up and off, throwing it to the ground as he stared at you like you had personally each and every star in the sky.

“You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled the words into your skin, before letting his hands once again fall under your skirt, beginning to massage your ass with a firm but still loving embrace. He pulled you against him again, your kisses becoming more and more needy as you felt him grow against you, with each stroke of his tongue forcing your hips to rub together deliciously.

“You know,” he spoke slowly, letting his lips fall down your neck and chest. “All of the literature I read suggested that foreplay was a good way to combat Genophobia. The more prepared you are for the actual sexual act, the less you worry about the ‘pain’ of it all.”

“What are you saying, Spencer?” You whispered, your heart beating fast, but not in an uncomfortable way anymore.

“I’m saying I want to make you feel good. Can I?” His lips had reached your skirt then, and he said the words as his head rested against your thigh, hands slowly pushing your legs wider and wider.

You nodded, and he dived in, at first licking through your underwear as you moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands worked the panties down your legs as he kissed your inner thighs, pushing your skirt up and over your hips so you could watch his every move.

“Fuck Spencer,” you ground into his face again as he returned his tongue to your now soaking hole, desperately chasing the pleasure of his attention. You’d had the time to explore this week, obviously, but it was nothing like this. Every kiss, every suck, every lick, spoke a thousand words to his devotion to you, his love being pressed into you from between your legs. You didn’t know it could be like this. You didn’t think it would be with anyone who wasn’t him.

“Spencer, I can feel it…. Spencer, don’t stop.” You worked a hand into his hair and shamelessly bucked into him now, you high hitting you just like you knew it would. If the first time had been a surprise, this time had been an inevitability. You felt him keep up his ministrations, letting you ride out the full wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes for confirmation that everything he’d done was okay. Moving a hand to wipe your arousal from his mouth, you stopped him mid-motion and pulled him back on top of you, wrapping your tongue around his own and delighting in the taste of his success.

“Let’s keep going,” you said softly into his ear, and he moaned his approval, before quickly divesting himself of his pants and grabbing a condom from his bedside table.

“Morgan got me a pack of these at Christmas, as a joke, y’know,” he laughed, kissing down your neck again, paying special attention to the few spots darkening to splashes of red.

“Not the time, Spencer,” you laugh at him, and he squeaks out an apology before lining himself up with you.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He asks, a concerned look plastered on his face, and you pull him down for one short tender kiss before answering again.

“I have never been so sure of any decision I have made in my life, as I am sure about you.” He pressed a kiss to your lips in thanks and then slowly began to fill you up.

There was a small panic in the back of your mind, but he kissed praise into your skin, replacing all of your negative thoughts with nothing but his words, his actions, his love. You relaxed as he stretched you out, not moving his hips but letting his hand return between your legs to help you further adjust to the newness of it all.

You saw a panicked look fall across his face as he kissed away small tears that fell from your eyes, each a small apology for the pain, the confusion of your mixed emotions, but you just laughed his concern away.

“Happy tears, Spencer. They’re happy tears.” He laughed with you then, and with one last seeking out of your approval, you began to move together. His thrusts were slow, lavishing you with attention, letting you feel all of him as his body sought your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around him, unable to stop the desperate need to buck up, up, up with each of his downward strokes.

You were a mess of limbs and kisses, neither of you experienced enough to know how to do anything past what felt good, what felt natural, and you spent your time together like that, giggling with each chaste kiss, moaning and sighing as you both worked your way up to an ecstatic release.

Falling down on top of you after you came together, Spencer didn’t pull out, holding you somehow closer than before as you both let the oxygen return to your lungs.

“I love you,” he whispered into your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

Yes, it was not going to be like that with anyone else. And you didn’t want anyone else at all, now that you finally had him.

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