#And no I had no idea what to do with the background since it was supposed to be a cave but I caved in and added grass

[requiemforthepoets]

Heyyy, I saw you wrote for Oscar Piastri and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing a Oscar x youngest child reader. Went they go to meet her family and he hasn't heard the best things about them. Like her sister is constantly overlooking every achievement ever and it's like her mother doesn't even care about her unless she wants something and the dad isn't in the picture. And after years she just finally breaks down and Oscar comforts her.

you are the only exception 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you came to a realization that with your bad relationship with your family, your only strong relationship is with oscar.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello! thank you so much for your request. i hope this one is up to your standards, i had also taken a creative liberty to add some details. the confrontation part (between reader and mother) might be a little bit triggering that i had intended it to be for some, so just read with a little discretion. nonetheless, i hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, youngest daughter syndrome, physical assault (slapping), verbal sparring, dysfunctional family, no father figure, youngest daughter rage, no use of y/n, and cursing.

You and Oscar stood outside the front door of the house you once had called home. It had been a year since you last had last visited, and the thought of just stepping inside made your stomach twist into knots. You glanced at Oscar, his soft smile of encouragement giving you a moment of calm amidst the growing storm inside your mind. He hadn’t pressed you to meet your family, but you knew it had been on his mind ever since your relationship had become serious.

“They’re your family,” he said gently when you brought up the idea weeks ago. “If you want to introduce me, I’ll be there for you.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Your family had never felt like a real family at all, not like the warmth and care that Oscar had been surrounded by all his life. You had always felt overlooked, unimportant, invisible—like you were just a ghost in the background of your family’s lives. As you hesitated, Oscar’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, but even Oscar couldn’t hide the flicker of doubt in his eyes. He had heard enough to know this wouldn’t be easy.

You took a deep breath before knocking. The door swung open, revealing your mother, looking at you up and down, her face was a blank canvas of indifference, before her eyes flicked to Oscar. Her expression immediately softened as she extended her arms, ignoring you completely as she greeted him.

“Oscar, darling, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” You felt the sting immediately, but you forced a smile as Oscar shook her hand politely. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs.—”

“Mom,” she corrected, cutting him off and pulling him into a hug. “Just call me mom.” You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to say something, but Oscar gave you a subtle glance that told you he noticed.

You then saw your sisters lounging in the living room, their eyes didn’t light up when they saw you. You just forced a smile and stepped inside, with Oscar following close behind. Introductions were made, your sisters and mother exchanged pleasantries with Oscar, and even though they were polite, it was as if you weren’t even in the room. Your achievements, the life you had built outside of this house, were all glossed over or ignored completely. Every time you tried to share something about what you were proud of, they either changed the subject or dismissed it with a half-hearted compliment.

Oscar’s brow furrowed slightly, his hand never leaving yours as the conversation carried on. You could tell that he was beginning to understand what you had meant all along. When your mother finally acknowledged you, it was only to ask another favor, something she needed, something she always needed but never seemed to return. There was completely no warmth in her words, no care, just expectations. It didn’t help at the fact that your father wasn’t there—he hadn’t been in the picture for a long time. You’d long since accepted that, but it still hurts, the unspoken absence lingering in the air like a heavy cloud.

As the hours dragged on, Oscar noticed everything. The way that your sisters praised each other’s accomplishments while overlooking yours, the way your mother seemed to care more about what you could do for her than who you were. It was suffocating, but you bit your tongue. You were here out of formality, after all. You wanted them to properly meet Oscar because he’s a part of your life now, and as much as you hated to admit it, they were still your family.

During the dinner, while the whole table’s chatter had subsided, Oscar decided to excuse himself to the restroom, and the room seemed to grow colder the moment he left. You just sat there, tension building in your chest, and finally, something inside of you had snapped.

“I’ve had enough,” you said, your voice steady, though your hands trembled. Your sisters glanced at you, clearly taken aback. “Why do you always do that? Why do you always fucking act like nothing I do matters? You act like I don’t exist unless you need something from me. You’ve never cared about what I’ve done or how far I’ve come, like I’m some kind of afterthought to you all. I’m done pretending that it’s okay!”

Your mother’s face hardened. “Watch your tone.”

Your sisters glanced at each other, their expressions indifferent. “Oh, here we go again,” one of them sighed, “you’re always so dramatic, good god!”

“Dramatic?” You repeated, incredulous. “You’ve never acknowledged a single thing I’ve done. Every time I decided to visit, it’s always the same fucking thing, treating me like I’m invisible unless you want something from me!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so sensitive, it wouldn’t bother you,” your mother chimed in, her voice cold. “You have always been the one to leave us. Don’t act like you’re the victim here.”

You stood up, fists clenched at your sides. “I left because this place was and still is fucking suffocating! Because I couldn’t fucking stand the way you all made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough, like I didn’t belong here at all!”

Your sisters rolled their eyes, but your mother stood as well, her face was now twisted in irritation. “You think you’re the only one who’s had it hard? We’re your family, and if you don’t like how things are, maybe you’re the problem!”

“No,” you shot back. “You just can’t handle the fucking truth, can you? You’ve all treated me like a shit for as long as I can remember, and maybe that’s why dad left! Maybe he couldn’t stand being around this shit ass family—or being just around you!” You pointed at your mother angrily.

The words hung in the air like a slap, and it wasn’t long before your mother’s hand followed suit, striking your cheek with a force that left your skin stinging and with a glaring red hand imprint. You didn’t flinch, instead, you stood your ground, the sharp pain doing little to shake your resolve.

“You don’t get to fucking hit me just because you can’t handle what I’m saying,” you said, your voice firm but calm. “You lost any right to call yourself my family a long time ago.”

Before anyone could respond, Oscar re-entered the dining room, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. He saw the tension, the redness in your cheek, and without hesitation, he crossed the room, gently taking your hand.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, his voice steady but filled with concern. You didn’t need to argue, you didn’t want to stay a second longer. With Oscar’s hand in yours, you turned and left, the door closing on a chapter of your life that should have ended long ago.

Stepping outside into the fresh air, the weight that had been suffocating you inside began to dissipate. You felt really good after airing everything out in the open, of course you hadn’t expected your mother’s slap, but you don’t care, it was about fucking time. Oscar didn’t say anything for a while, just held your hand, offering you the comfort you didn’t realize you needed until now. Finally, when you were both at a safe distance from the house, he stopped walking and turned to you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice full of concern. His fingers brushed against your check, where the redness from the slap still lingered.

You nodded, but your eyes were full of unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Osc,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want you to witness all of that. I didn’t even want you to meet them.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Don't apologize,” he murmured against your hair. “You don’t ever have to apologize for them. That wasn’t your fault.”

You stayed in his embrace for what felt like forever, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.

“They don’t define you,” Oscar whispered. “You’re not them. You’ve built something incredible on your own, and you don’t need their validation for that.”

A few tears slipped down your cheeks, but quickly wiped it off. They weren’t just from sadness, they were also from the overwhelming sense of relief that you didn’t have to face any of this alone anymore. Oscar had seen the worst of your past, and instead of turning away, he was still here, holding you tighter than ever.

“I love you,” he said quietly, his words wrapping around you like a blanket of safety. “And nothing they do will ever change that.”

You looked up at him, his kind eyes filled with nothing but understanding, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged somewhere—right there, in his arms.

The moment you were already back at the hotel room, the weight of the day finally crashed down on your shoulders. You just stood there, motionless, while Oscar set down his things. The silence between the two of you was deafening, it felt like the walls were closing in. The dam you had been holding back for years was breaking, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it was already too late.

You sank into the edge of the bed, face in your hands as everything you had bottled up started to spill out. At first, it was quiet—just a shaky breath, but soon enough, the sobs came in waves, unstoppable, painful, years of frustration and hurt pouring out of you all at once. All the pain of never being enough, of always being overlooked, hits you like a train.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs, not even sure if Oscar could understand you. “I’m so so sorry…I shouldn’t have made you go there. I shouldn’t have let you meet them.”

Oscar was at your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms as if shielding you from the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. He didn’t say anything right away, just held you as you cried into his chest, his hand gently running up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his touch was the only thing keeping you tethered to the present, but the storm inside of you was relentless.

“I thought—” you gasped, the words barely making it out between your sobs. “I thought they might have changed…that maybe they’d see me for who I am now. But they didn’t. They never will. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with concern and understanding. “Hey. Hey, stop,” he said gently, brushing a tear from your cheek. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You don’t have to apologize for them, not to me.”

You shook your head, guilt pressing down on you. “But how they treated you, it wasn’t right. They didn’t even care that you were there. They didn’t care about anything except what they wanted from me, and I made you go through all of that…I’m sorry,”

Oscar’s grip on you tightened, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to apologize for them,” he repeated, his tone more serious now. “They’re the ones who should be sorry, not you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I went because I wanted to be there for you, no matter how it all turned out.”

You sniffed, wiping at your tear-streaked face, though it did a little to stop the flood. “But it’s so embarrassing,” you mumbled. “Your family’s so good, supportive, and mine…mine’s a total mess. Dysfunctional, even. I didn’t want you to see that, I didn’t want you to see where I came from.”

Oscar cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him. “It doesn’t matter where you came from, I couldn’t care less,” he said quietly, his eyes searching for yours. “What matters is who you are, and you are nothing like them. You’ve built your own life, your own path, and that’s what I love about you. I don’t care about your family’s mistakes. I care about you.”

Your chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t from the pain of your family’s rejection. It was from the overwhelming feeling of being seen, truly seen, by someone who didn’t judge you for the past you couldn’t control. Oscar’s words wrapped around you like a protective shield, and you leaned into him, your tears slowing but your emotions still raw.

“I just wanted them to care,” you whispered, the last of your defenses breaking. “I wanted them to be proud of me, I don’t ask that much from them. I just…I just wanted to feel like I mattered to them.”

Oscar’s arms tightened around you again, pulling you close until your forehead rested against his. “You matter,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “You matter to me. More than you’ll ever know.”

You took a shaky breath, your hands clutching onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

He kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “You never have to thank me for caring about you. I love you, and I’m here, no matter what.”

The sincerity in his voice broke through the last of the walls you had built around yourself. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you could finally breathe. You nodded, the tension in your chest finally easing as you rested your head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you.

You weren’t sure of what the future held, or if your family would ever change, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered at all. You had Oscar, and that was enough.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Could you perhaps write something? It’s the readers birthday and Reid waits all day to see if she brings it up, but they never do. So he shows up at her apartment with a gift for her and tells her he’ll always remember her birthday, even if she doesn’t tell anyone when it is. And then a little smut occurs. 😱

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, forgotten birthday

Word count: 7.9k

a/n: this is such a great idea i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to writing it !! it's probably way smuttier than you thought lolol i was in a smut slump but we're back !

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving) protected PinV

The day unfolds like any other, with the usual rush of paperwork, coffee runs, and the occasional moment of laughter echoing through the bullpen. You stay focused on your work, avoiding any unnecessary interactions that might draw attention to yourself. After all, it’s your birthday, but you’ve chosen to keep that to yourself. It feels strange, withholding such personal information, but in a high-stakes environment like this, there’s a part of you that prefers to blend into the background. Birthdays aren't meant to be a spectacle here. 

You glance around the room, noticing the typical energy coursing through the space, unaware that a pair of eyes have been subtly watching you all morning. Spencer Reid, as meticulous with people as he is with facts, has always been someone who notices the little things others tend to miss. Today, it’s your silence, the absence of a celebratory card, or a slice of cake that catches his attention. He’s well aware of what today means, not because you told him, but because he knows. Just like he knows the birthdays of every other team member, except yours is different—yours matters more to him. 

Spencer taps his pen against his notebook, his gaze drifting toward you. He debates internally whether to say anything, to let you know he’s aware. He’s read enough about social norms to understand that birthdays often come with expectations—balloons, cake, a few awkwardly sung lines of "Happy Birthday"—but that’s not your style. He’s noticed how you avoid the spotlight, how you prefer quiet moments over public celebrations. Still, he wonders if there’s something you’re hoping for today.

Penelope, typically the beacon of all things celebratory, hasn’t said anything either. But Spencer figures you’ve kept it quiet on purpose. He knows Penelope would have plastered the office with decorations had she been aware, and since the office remains as normal as ever, Spencer figures you’re not in the mood for that kind of attention.

He watches you, waiting for a sign—a smile, a quick glance his way, anything that might suggest you’d appreciate a private acknowledgment. When nothing comes, he respects your decision, but there’s a gnawing feeling inside him. Birthdays are supposed to be special, and even though you’ve chosen not to celebrate, he can’t just let it pass without doing something. Not for you.

The day comes to an end, and not a single word has been spoken about your birthday. You’ve kept it quiet, of course, but still, the silence lingers a bit more than you expected. Not from anyone else, and not from you. Spencer has watched the day unfold in his quiet, observant way, and though he knows you’re not one for grand gestures, he can’t let this pass unnoticed. 

After leaving the office, Spencer’s mind is already set on what he needs to do. He stops by your favorite restaurant, carefully picking up dinner. You never told him your favorite spot, but he’s always been the kind of person who pays attention to the little things—especially when it comes to you. He takes pride in knowing these details, even if he’s never made a show of it.

From there, he heads to a local bakery, the door chiming just as the frustrated baker is about to close. Spencer, out of breath and apologetic, manages to convince the baker to stay open just long enough to get a small cake with your name written on it. The generous tip helps, but more than anything, it’s the desperation in Spencer’s voice that softens the baker’s resolve. 

Now, standing outside your front door with his arms full—dinner in one hand, cake in the other—he uses his elbow to press the doorbell, feeling a flicker of nervousness that’s unusual for him. He never shows up unannounced like this, but he knows this is different. This matters.

Inside, you’re curled up on the couch, completely absorbed in the book your parents sent you as a gift. It’s one you’ve been dying to read for months, and it’s been the perfect way to end your quiet day. The unexpected ring of the doorbell pulls you from your peaceful moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you set the book down. 

You tiptoe toward the door, glancing out the sheer blinds to see who it could possibly be at this hour. When you spot Spencer standing there, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the door, a confused grin tugging at your lips.

"Reid?" you ask, your voice light but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

He shifts awkwardly, his arms still burdened with dinner and the cake, and there’s a sheepishness in his expression that’s both endearing and unexpected. 

"Happy birthday," he says, though it comes out more like a question, his uncertainty evident.

Your heart swells at the sight of him, the surprise of his gesture hitting you all at once. You glance at the dinner in one hand, the cake in the other, and something warm blooms in your chest.

"Thank you," you say, your voice soft as you open the door wider. "Come in, please."

Spencer followed you into the kitchen, his eyes subtly taking in the details of your small, cozy home. It occurred to you that this was the first time he had ever been inside, and that realization only added to the strange, fluttery feeling that had been building inside you since he showed up at your door.

He set the bags down on the counter, the quiet clinking of takeout containers filling the brief silence between you. 

“How, um... how did you know it was my birthday?” you asked softly, a hint of shyness in your voice. 

Spencer didn’t look up immediately, making himself busy with the food, carefully unpacking it as though it were an everyday task. “I would never forget your birthday, Y/N,” he replied, his voice so matter-of-fact yet warm. 

His words struck something deep inside you, and your heart swelled all over again, the warmth spreading through your chest and into your limbs. “Reid... that's so sweet,” you murmured, barely able to contain the emotion in your voice.

He smiled over his shoulder at you, that soft, almost boyish grin that made everything feel lighter. “I hope this is okay,” he said, turning around to show you what he had brought. “I guessed you’d like this.”

You blinked, staring at the familiar containers in his hands, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t just any takeout—it was your favorite order from your absolute favorite restaurant. Your mind struggled to process how he could have known, and your body felt like it was on the verge of exploding with a tidal wave of affection and gratitude.

“H–how?” you stammered, unable to get out anything more coherent as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

Spencer shrugged in that sweet, almost bashful way he did sometimes, his eyes meeting yours as he simply said, “I pay attention.”

Those three words hit you harder than anything else he could’ve said. It wasn’t just the dinner, or the cake, or even the fact that he’d remembered your birthday without you saying a word—it was that he saw you, truly noticed you, in ways you didn’t think anyone ever did.

Without thinking, you stepped closer, your eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “Reid, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you whispered, but there was no mistaking the happiness in your tone.

He smiled gently, placing the food down on the counter. “I know,” he said, his voice soft, “but I wanted to.”

And just like that, your quiet birthday became something more than you ever could have expected—because of him.

As the two of you settled into an easy rhythm of conversation over dinner, it felt surprisingly natural—despite the unexpectedness of the evening. You sat across from each other at your small kitchen table, the soft clinking of forks against takeout containers punctuating the space between your words. Spencer, usually so reserved and careful, seemed more relaxed, as if the intimacy of the moment had broken down some of his usual barriers.

“You know,” Spencer began between bites, “this restaurant has one of the highest customer satisfaction ratings in the area. I didn’t just pick it at random—I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” He looked up at you, his eyes bright with sincerity.

You smiled, taking in how thoughtful he had been without even realizing how much it meant to you. "I can’t believe you went to so much trouble for this. I really don’t expect anything big for my birthday."

Spencer shrugged, his expression so genuine it made your heart ache just a little. "Well, it’s not just any day. It’s your day. And you deserve to feel special."

His words landed gently, but with a depth that made your pulse quicken. You had always seen Spencer as more than a colleague, but you’d never really considered him in a romantic light. The way he was speaking tonight, though, made you notice things about him you hadn’t before.

“You’re really thoughtful, Reid,” you said, picking at your food, your voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone remember the little things like you do.”

He glanced at you with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up slightly. “I like to notice the important things. People tend to overlook those details, but they matter.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you suddenly realized how much attention he must’ve been paying all this time. Spencer was always observant—he was a profiler, after all—but this was different. He was talking about you, not in a way that made you feel studied, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that,” you replied, your voice light, though your heart felt anything but. “Most people don’t pay that much attention.”

Spencer looked at you intently then, his gaze soft but unwavering. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you.”

The statement was simple, but the way he said it felt like something more. You felt your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the realization that Spencer Reid might see you in a way you hadn’t seen yourself.

“Reid, I—” you started, but he interrupted, not even realizing the shift in the conversation.

“And you’re always so organized with your case files,” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate that about you. You make my job easier, and honestly, it’s hard not to enjoy working with you.”

You laughed softly, feeling flustered but trying to keep it light. “You make me sound like I’m perfect or something.”

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought you were... well, pretty amazing.”

“I... I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly, playing with your fork to avoid looking directly at him.

Spencer, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his own words, shrugged again. “I'm not always good at saying what I’m thinking, but you’ve always stood out to me. I guess it’s just… obvious to me.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself really considering Spencer Reid in a different light. Sure, he was brilliant, kind, and more attractive than you’d ever let yourself dwell on—but you had never imagined he might see you that way.

You felt... average. Just you. How could someone like Spencer, with his genius mind and thoughtful nature, possibly see you as anything more than a friend or colleague?

As you looked across the table at him, his expression soft and open, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong about where you stood with him.

After the plates were cleared, you and Spencer sat side by side, laughing as you decided to abandon any pretense of formality and dig into the cake with forks. It was just the two of you, after all, and the evening had become too comfortable for anything else. Every bite seemed to add to the warmth between you, and even though neither of you had touched a drop of alcohol, it felt like you were both intoxicated—drunk on the unexpected affection and connection between you.

You noticed Spencer watching you with an intensity that was both thrilling and unsettling. His gaze felt heavier than usual, more present, more... intentional. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice light but breathless as your lips curled into a small, uncertain smile.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle it sent warmth coursing through you. He shifted closer, his hand lifting, and before you could process what was happening, his palm was cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed across your lips tenderly, lingering there. 

“You have...” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, “some frosting.”

His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, though you were frozen in place. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but you couldn’t move. Spencer's thumb continued to gently trace the curve of your bottom lip, the moment stretching between you, thick with something you hadn’t realized was there until now.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Y/N… I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

His words, soft and tentative, sent your pulse racing, and you barely registered the nod you gave in response. But that was all he needed. Spencer's gaze flicked down to your lips, and he closed the remaining distance slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, though you knew you wouldn’t.

His lips met yours gently, a hesitant kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you, locked in something fragile and sweet.

Spencer’s hand stayed cradling your face as he deepened the kiss just slightly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his forehead rested gently against yours, and his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment.

“Was that okay?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion, still holding onto the last traces of your kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. “Mhm, very okay,” you whispered, smiling softly as your heart raced in your chest.

Spencer opened his eyes slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The room felt heavier with meaning now, but it was the kind of weight you welcomed, a sense that things had shifted between you in the best possible way.

“Can I do it again?” Spencer asked, his voice playful, his lips pulling into a silly grin that made your heart flip. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, your cheeks warming as you nodded once more. This time, though, you didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You leaned up toward him, your hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, your fingers gently threading through the soft strands of his hair.

Spencer’s hands moved from where they had been resting on your face, sliding down to your waist as he pulled you in closer, your bodies now pressed together with a new, delicious kind of tension. He let out a soft, happy hum, the sound vibrating through you, making you feel like your entire body was alight with warmth. 

When you felt his tongue gently part your lips, exploring your mouth with such tender care, you couldn’t help the soft, sweet moan that escaped you. The sound seemed to stir something in Spencer, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist just as a low, deep groan rumbled from his chest.

Encouraged by his reaction, you tangled your fingers further into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world outside this moment seemed to fade even more, leaving just the feeling of Spencer against you, the intoxicating heat between your bodies, and the soft sounds of contentment that passed between you both.

Each kiss was deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate, as if you were both slowly learning a new language made of gentle caresses and lingering glances. Spencer’s lips were soft and insistent against yours, but always so tender, as if he was savoring each moment, never wanting to rush. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go, made your pulse race.

Spencer pulled back ever so slowly, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You let out a soft whine, your body instinctively leaning forward, both at the loss of his lips and the delicious pull of his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice soft and almost breathless, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Your heart skipped at his words, and you tilted your head slightly, curiosity getting the better of you. "How long?" you asked, your voice just as quiet, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy between you.

Spencer laughed, the sound low and almost bashful. "Two years and three months," he said with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin.

You paused for a moment, realizing how specific that time frame was. Then it hit you. "That's... that's when I started at the BAU," you said slowly, your mind racing to piece it together.

He nodded, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between. "Since the first day I saw you, I knew you were special."

His words hung in the air, and something inside you shifted. You could feel the weight of his confession settle in your chest, and it only made the moment feel more intense, more real. Spencer had been feeling this way for so long, waiting patiently, watching from the sidelines, all without you ever knowing.

That’s when you made your decision.

"Take me to the bedroom, Reid," you said, your voice steady but filled with anticipation.

Spencer pulled back instantly, his eyes wide in surprise, his expression almost comically stunned. "What?"

You held his gaze, your hand gently brushing his cheek as you repeated, more softly this time, "The bedroom, please?" You threw in your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would be hard for him to say no.

For a moment, Spencer was frozen, his mind clearly racing to catch up with the reality of what was happening. "Okay—yeah, yeah," he stammered, still in shock but unable to hide the excitement building in his voice.

He stood back quickly, offering his hand to you with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You took it, letting him pull you gently from the kitchen, the warmth of his palm against yours sparking something deep inside you. As he led you down the hallway toward the bedroom, your heart raced, the anticipation growing with every step. 

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind you, your hands were already tugging at Spencer’s sweater vest, pulling it over his head with eager fingers. His usually neat hair was left a little wild and messy, and you couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight. He grinned back at you, shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, making you laugh even harder.

"You're ridiculous," you teased, but your words were laced with affection.

Spencer just smiled wider, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. Without missing a beat, his hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up as you raised your arms in surrender, allowing him to undress you with deliberate care. The fabric slipped over your head, and as soon as it was discarded to the floor, you could feel his gaze roaming over your body.

His eyes lingered on your chest, clearly noticing the absence of a bra, and the way his breath caught sent a shiver through you. There was something so intense, so reverent in the way he looked at you that it made your skin tingle. His hands found their way to your breasts, his touch gentle yet filled with hunger, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Without another word, Spencer dipped his head back down, capturing your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. This time, it was deeper, more urgent, as if all the emotions he'd been holding back for years were pouring into this moment. His thumbs rubbed at your nipples as he kissed you, and you could feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own as you whined softly into his mouth.

Your hands found their way to his hair again, tangling in the soft strands as you pressed your body closer to his, craving more of him, more of the way his lips moved against yours, more of the way his hands explored you.

The moment you felt the unmistakable press of Spencer’s arousal against you, your instincts took over. Your hands trailed down, quickly working at the waistband of his pants, eager to feel more of him. Spencer’s fingers left your body only long enough to undo the buttons of his shirt, your breaths becoming heavier as the distance between you both shrank even more.

Soon, he was down to just his briefs, his skin warm against yours, and for a second, you thought he was about to pull you into another kiss. But instead, he surprised you by crouching down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked down at him with curiosity and amusement, tilting your head.

“What are you doing down there?” you asked, laughing softly, though your heart was racing.

Spencer looked up at you, and the look in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through your body. There was something almost reverent about the way he gazed at you, like you were the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “I have wanted this for so, so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to savor every little bit of you.”

His words made you flush with heat, the intensity of his desire crashing over you like a wave. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and before you could say anything in response, Spencer's hands were moving again, removing the last pieces of your clothing as he kissed the newly exposed skin. 

And then, you were standing completely bare before him, your most intimate parts now level with his face. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the raw hunger in Spencer’s eyes, made you feel dizzy, but you couldn’t look away.

It seemed like this was exactly what he had wanted all along. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin before his tongue traced a sure stripe through your slick folds. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, your knees almost buckling from the sheer intensity of it.

A gasp escaped your lips as Spencer continued, his mouth working with a determination that made it clear this was something he had imagined countless times before. His hands gripped your thighs, steadying you as he continued his ministrations, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes designed to unravel you from the inside out.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair once again as he savored you, just like he said he would.

"You taste better than I imagined," Spencer murmured between breaths, his voice thick with desire before he dove back in, his mouth moving over every inch of you, leaving no part untouched. His tongue was thorough, his lips relentless, and each movement made it harder for you to hold on to any coherent thoughts.

Your grip on his hair tightened as a desperate whimper escaped your lips. "You—ungh—you imagined this?" you managed to gasp out between moans, your voice shaky and breathless.

Spencer hummed against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth latching onto your clit with more intensity, suctioning his lips tightly before shaking his head back and forth, creating a sensation so intense it made you scream out, your body trembling with the force of it.

The sound that left you was raw, completely involuntary, as waves of pleasure rolled through you, Spencer's hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you steady as you lost yourself in the moment. He was relentless, devouring you with an eagerness that matched his earlier words. It was clear he had thought about this—dreamed about this—and now, with you here in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.

"Reid..." you moaned, your voice breaking as your entire body responded to his touch, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Each movement of his tongue, each gentle bite or hum, pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on tight, letting him take you wherever he wanted you to go.

But then, just as you were teetering on the edge, Spencer pulled back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The sudden absence of his touch made your body tremble, a desperate whine escaping your lips. When you looked down, confused and still dazed with pleasure, you noticed the almost stern look in his eyes, his lips glistening as he gazed up at you.

"Spencer," he said, his voice low, full of intent.

Your brow furrowed slightly, your mind hazy from the high you had been riding. "What?" you managed to ask, your voice breathless and needy.

His eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "Call me Spencer," he repeated, his tone a mixture of command and affection, as if this small detail mattered more than anything in that moment.

Before you could fully process it, he leaned back in, parting you gently with his thumbs to give himself even more access. The feeling was overwhelming, your body trembling as he resumed his ministrations with renewed intensity, his tongue and mouth working in tandem, more precise and focused than before.

The need in you swelled again, even stronger than before, and this time, you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. "Spencer," you gasped, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, your body arching into him as he pushed you further and further toward the edge.

Hearing his name on your lips seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more deliberate as he devoured you with every ounce of the hunger he had been holding back. You were completely at his mercy, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure, his name falling from your lips again and again.

Spencer could sense how close you were, your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath his touch. He doubled his efforts, his tongue moving with precision and urgency, his fingers pressing against your thighs to keep you steady. The need to see you completely unravel, to give you that release, spurred him on as he focused entirely on you.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, and then, finally, the tension that had been building in your core snapped. You tilted your head back, your body arching as the overwhelming pleasure took over. With a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hands found Spencer’s hair, gripping it tightly, tugging hard as you released, your body shuddering and your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.

Spencer didn’t stop, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through your climax, swallowing everything you offered him. The feel of your fingers gripping his hair, the way your body shook as you released in his mouth—it was everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Only when your body began to calm, your breath evening out, did he slowly pull back, his lips brushing against your skin one last time, savoring the moment.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as you slowly came back to reality. You were still breathless, your body weak from the intensity of your orgasm, but the way Spencer looked at you, filled with awe and admiration, made you feel like you were floating.

"That," he murmured softly, "was everything."

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, still floating in the afterglow, your head in the clouds, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. Spencer slowly rose from his knees, his hands gently skimming your skin as he stood to his full height, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“You with me, beautiful?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and amusement as he stroked your hair, fingers threading through the strands tenderly.

You blinked up at him, your eyes still hazy with satisfaction, but your smile was soft and content. “I’m with you,” you replied, voice breathy but sincere, your whole body feeling like it was made of light.

Spencer chuckled, the sound affectionate and full of something deeper. “Good, good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Do you want to keep going?”

A slow smile spread across your lips, and the way you said, “Please, Spencer,” made his heart race with excitement and affection.

Spencer grinned, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he gently guided you down onto the pillows, his hands firm but tender. He leaned over you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Anything for the birthday girl.”

With that, Spencer lowered himself over you, his body pressing against yours with a sweet, delicious heat. You could feel the warmth of him, the anticipation growing as his lips found yours once again, slow and lingering, savoring every second. His hands explored your body as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin, and the way he touched you made your heart race all over again.

This wasn’t just about physical pleasure anymore—it was about something deeper, something that had been quietly building between you both for much longer than either of you had realized.

"Can you..." you started, but then hesitated, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness crash over you. This was Reid, after all, your colleague and friend, someone you'd see at work tomorrow. The reality of that hit you, and it made your heart race for an entirely different reason now.

Spencer, noticing the shift in your demeanor, raised an eyebrow, his voice soft and reassuring. "Can I what, darling?" he asked, a small, amused smile on his lips as he looked down at you.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off, but Spencer’s expression quickly shifted to concern. His hands, which had been tracing gentle patterns on your skin, paused, and his voice became softer, more serious. "Y/N... are you okay?"

You let out a quiet sigh, nodding, but there was still a lingering tension in your chest. "Just... is this going to be weird tomorrow?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment, the emotions wrapped up in everything that had just happened—it suddenly felt fragile when faced with the idea of seeing him at the office the next day, going back to the usual routine like nothing had changed.

Spencer's face softened even more, and he tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. "Weird?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering your words. He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "No, Y/N, this doesn’t have to be weird."

You blinked up at him, your heart settling slightly at his calm demeanor. He continued, his voice gentle but certain. "We can take it one day at a time, okay? But if you're worried about work, nothing between us will change unless you want it to. I care about you too much to let this ruin anything.”

"If anything, this makes everything better," Spencer continued softly, his eyes full of sincerity as his hand stayed gently on your cheek. "I’ve wanted to be close to you for so long. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up or make you feel uncomfortable. We can handle this however you want—slow, steady, or even just keeping it between us for now."

His words soothed the unease that had started to form, the tenderness in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t trying to push for something more than what you were ready for. Spencer, as always, was careful, deliberate, and understanding. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel safe, even in this new, uncertain territory.

You took a deep breath, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. "I just… I don’t want this to change things in a bad way," you admitted, your fingers lightly brushing over his arm as he hovered over you, your bodies still close but the air between you calmer now.

Spencer shook his head, his smile warm and full of affection. "It won’t. I promise. I’ll still be me, you’ll still be you. And we’ll figure out whatever this is together, one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about work or anything else right now. Just... be here with me tonight."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, his words grounding you in the moment. The fear of what tomorrow might bring began to fade as you looked up at him, trusting that Spencer, with all his care and thoughtfulness, would never let this turn into something that would hurt either of you.

"Okay," you whispered, offering him a small smile. "I’m here with you."

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft, almost shy grin as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hands once again finding their way to your waist, holding you close as if reassuring you through his touch.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

With that, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Spencer guided you back onto the pillows, his movements slow and deliberate as he kissed you again, this time with more ease and tenderness, making it clear that whatever happened next would be on your terms, whenever you were ready.

Spencer groaned deeply into your mouth as you pushed his briefs down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. You guided him into position, your need for him clear in the way your body responded. His lips never left yours, but his breath grew more ragged as the tension between you mounted.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with restraint.

You whimpered in response, the feeling of him grinding against you, the tip of his cock hitting your clit, making it impossible to think of anything else. “Please, Spencer,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “I want you so badly. Please.”

He let out a strained groan, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as your words washed over him. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to soothe you even though he was losing his own control. "Shh, you never have to beg me for anything, ever."

Your body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, for him, and you shifted your hips instinctively, trying to coax him to push inside. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and your need for him was palpable in every shaky breath you took.

Spencer, however, managed to hold onto a sliver of resolve, even as it wore thin. "Y/N, beautiful," he said, his voice rough, "we need to use a condom."

"Top drawer," you gasped, your words nearly a plea as your body moved beneath him, craving the release only he could give you. "Hurry!"

With a nod, Spencer fumbled toward the bedside table, pulling the drawer open with shaky hands. He found the box quickly, tearing it open with urgency. Your eyes stayed locked on him, watching every movement, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin burning with need.

He returned to you swiftly, sliding the condom on with practiced care, though his hands were trembling. The moment he was ready, he positioned himself above you again, his eyes filled with both desire and affection as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slower, savoring the feel of your lips against his.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with reassurance as he finally pressed forward, slowly pushing inside of you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure crashing through both of you.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud, satisfied moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely, your body welcoming him in a way that felt natural, perfect. Spencer groaned, his breath hitching as he felt your tight walls constrict even further around him. 

"Y/N, darling, relax, please," Spencer panted, his voice laced with both urgency and concern as he struggled to hold himself back, his body tense with restraint. He could feel your tightness, the way you clenched around him, and it was driving him wild, making it hard to stay in control. 

You whimpered, your body still adjusting to the sensation. "You're just—ah!" Your voice broke into a loud gasp as he finally pushed all the way inside, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way. "You're so big... why didn't you tell me you were so big?"

Spencer let out a tense chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction despite his own effort to keep himself in check. "I, uh... didn't think it was that big," he managed to get out, his breath shaky as he looked down at you, his forehead damp with sweat from the strain of holding himself back. 

“You’re a fucking liar,” you laughed breathlessly through your whimpers and whines, your body trembling with both pleasure and amusement.

His chuckle, though filled with affection, was also tight with restraint, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep from moving too quickly. "Just... breathe," he murmured, his voice gentler now as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, trying to calm both you and himself. "I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, taking deep breaths as your body slowly adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Spencer’s hands stayed gentle, stroking your sides and thighs as he gave you time to acclimate, though you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.

After a moment, you shifted your hips, testing the sensation, and the movement elicited a low groan from Spencer, his self-control wavering. "Okay..." you whispered, your voice soft but filled with need. "I’m ready."

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he slowly began to move. His pace was careful at first, each thrust deliberate as he let your body adjust to his size, but the tension between you built quickly, and soon, the rhythm grew more urgent, more desperate.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you so completely making you dizzy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he moved so perfectly in sync with you, as if you were made for each other.

Spencer groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours again as his movements grew more intense. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to hold himself back just a little longer, wanting to make this last as long as possible for both of you.

"Spencer!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Yeah, baby?" he panted, his voice rough and breathless as his hips slapped against yours in a steady, rhythmic motion. "Tell me what you need."

"You! More! Please!" Your voice was a desperate plea, every inch of your body burning with want.

"Fuck," he breathed, his control slipping as he sped up, his thrusts becoming more intense. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub you in time with his movements. The sensation made you cry out again, the combination of his fingers and his body sending you spiraling toward the edge.

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you whined, your body trembling as you clenched tightly around Spencer, the sensation pushing you toward the brink.

“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried to hold on. “Calm down, baby, you’re going to push me out.”

But you were too far gone to hear him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you. Your whimpers grew louder, your body thrashing uncontrollably as Spencer’s fingers moved faster, working in perfect rhythm with your body's need.

Suddenly, it hit you all at once, the most intense release you’d ever experienced. You let out a violent scream, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, something deeper and more powerful than anything you'd ever felt before.

Your walls clenched so tightly that you did, in fact, push Spencer out, and you gushed all over him, your body overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. Spencer let out a low groan at the sensation, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and arousal as he watched you come undone in front of him, watched your release coat his stomach and thighs.

“Did you just... squirt?” Spencer asked, his voice full of pure awe as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with amazement.

You were a panting mess on the bed, completely spent from the intensity of what had just happened. “That, or I just peed on you,” you mumbled, half-joking but still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sensation you had just felt.

Spencer laughed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. “You are so sexy, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of affection and admiration.

You kissed him back tiredly, your body too exhausted to do much more, but the desire to give him what he needed still lingered. "Want you to come too," you whined softly, your words almost pleading.

“Okay, okay,” Spencer soothed, his breath hitching as he positioned himself once more, slowly pushing back inside you. The sensation made your body jolt, and you cried out, your back arching from the overstimulation. It was too much and yet not enough, the oversensitivity sending sharp pulses of pleasure through you.

“Are you okay, darling?” Spencer asked, his voice breathless as he fought to hold himself back, concerned about your comfort.

You nodded quickly, though your body was trembling beneath him. “Nuh huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gripped him tightly, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, I want this. Please,” you urged, your body still sensitive but craving the closeness, needing to feel him chase his own release.

Spencer groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he began to move again, thrusting into you with an increasing pace. His body was tense, his breath ragged as he neared the edge, each movement sending both of you into a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

You clung to him as he chased his release, your breaths mingling, your bodies connected in a way that felt intimate and overwhelming all at once. And when Spencer finally let go, his body shuddering as he found his own climax, you held him close as he groaned and whispered your name. 

After Spencer had taken care of both of you, gently cleaning you up and even changing the sheets that had been soaked in your release, the two of you finally settled into bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. His body was warm against yours, his breath steady as he held you close. Everything felt so perfect, so right in that moment, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that cozy little space.

You nuzzled into Spencer's chest, feeling his heartbeat under your lips as you placed a soft kiss there. "I want things to be different," you mumbled, your voice quiet and filled with a softness that made his heart swell.

Spencer looked down at you, his hand stroking your hair gently. "Yeah?" he asked, the happiness in his voice evident. "Different how?"

You shifted slightly, still cuddled close, your lips brushing over his skin. "I want everyone to know," you murmured, your voice more certain this time.

Spencer chuckled softly, though he held you tighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Know what exactly?" he asked, teasing slightly, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes with a sweet, serious look. "That you're my boyfriend," you said, your voice full of affection, but also with a sense of determination.

Spencer’s heart fluttered at your words, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin. He’d never thought he’d hear you say something so simple yet so powerful. "Boyfriend, huh?" he teased softly, though his own voice was thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. "I think I’d like that," he whispered.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you like a blanket. "Good," you replied, kissing him softly. "Because I want everyone to know how lucky I am."

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your face. "I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but pure, overwhelming happiness. And in that moment, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.

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[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Ooh for your drabble challenge:

125. “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait...are you...what?!”

Angsty!! -> 🙈 and with Nico Hischier. Please and thank you! 🩵

ooo of course I love writing some angst and I don't ever remember writing angst for Nico yet... I am truly sorry this took me an embarrassing amount of days to answer. 😔Also this turned out so much longer than I thought it would but I kind of like the background I gave the prompt.

Drabble Challenge. Drabble Masterlist.

"Quit moving, I'm trying to sleep. Wait... are you... what?!"

Sharing a bed with Nico Hischier was not something you were planning on doing when you agreed to go on this weekend getaway with your best friend. But little did you know that everyone but you and Nico were the only two single people in the group. Of course they only room left in the house in your air bnb by the time you got there was a makeshift office with a small twin bed in the corner. So now here you were sharing a bed with Nico, who just so happened to be your friend's partner's best friend who also happened to your ex-boyfriend.

Once you both made it into the tiny office/spare bedroom, immediately the words left your mouth, "Uh I can sleep on the coach in living room downstairs." Already turning around with your hand still on your luggage as you start to turn around but Nico lightly grabs your arm to stop you.

"Stop, You're not sleeping down there Y/N that room is full of windows and the light will wake you up tomorrow morning or literally anyone going to the bathroom in the middle of the night." His voice soft, almost pleading for you not to leave him in this room by himself.

Sighing deeply, closing your eyes for a few seconds the exhaustion of traveling creeping in on you slowly, all you were craving was somewhere to sleep. "Fine." you grunt, taking a deep breath you continue. "I'll sleep on the floor in here."

After being with him, you can translate the curse words that leave his mouth in Swiss German. Something along the lines of 'goddamn me, bullshit.'

"So what's your idea then?" The irritation clear in your voice.

"I am not letting you sleep on the floor Y/N/N." His voice more defined from earlier, the stubbornness clear in his voice now. You can physically see him take a shaky breath as his voice cracks due to nerves as he suggests "We can share a bed?"

Finally making eye contact with him for the first time since entering the room, your face full of shock at his suggestion. But all you see starring back at you is his soft big brown eyes begging you to stay. "It's a twin Neeks." you whisper suddenly scared of making your voice any louder.

"I know. But were both tired and we don't have any other options. Can we just go to bed please." he begs lightly reaching for your hand and it was as if as soon as his hand lightly creased yours, you were back in time to six months ago before you both decided you needed space because neither of you had time due to your careers to be in a committed relationship. And in that moment, you felt your heart break a little and your pulse quicken. "Please baby." Nico begged the nickname rolling of his tongue so naturally, your not even sure if he heard it himself.

But in an attempt to protect yourself you find your arguing even though your voice was above a whisper as you close your eyes. "We have other options Nico. You just don't like them." Opening them again after a few seconds you meet his face again and you knew there was no other option, you were about to share a twin size bed with your 6'1 ex boyfriend Nico. "okay." you admit in defeat, you swear for a second you saw a smile on his lips as he slowly pulls you to the bed and climbs in first putting his back against the wall, laying on his side.

It wasn't an ideal situation, deciding it was best to let lay on your side facing away from Nico trying not to touch him despite having no space. Apparently Nico had different plans when you felt his arms circle around your waist pulling you so your back was flesh to his chest. He did it so fast, as i it was second nature, an instinct taking over. Nico was asleep in no time, he use to claim he always was with you in his arms, and you could tell he was asleep by the little breaths he was leaving on the back of your shoulder where his head was tucked down. Sadly for you, sleep didn't come as easily it was if your brain and your heart were having an internal battle on what was happening. Trying not to focus on how safe you felt being back in his arms because this was a one night thing, trying to remind yourself the reality of the situation.

Somewhere around 3 AM you fell asleep, but you didn't sleep long as you look at the clock and see it was just a little after 5 AM. Your not sure if it's from Nico's body heat or just the fact of sharing such a small bed. But you felt hot and sticky all of a sudden. Trying to carefully remove Nico's arms off of you so that you could attempt to get comfortable and all fall back asleep for a few more hours. But there was no hope when you felt Nico whine behind you due to the movement.

"Quit moving, I'm trying to sleep." he whined pulling you closer and shifting back to both of your orginial sleeping position. In an insenence Nico felt it his entire body stiffened and opened his eyes in fear begging that you won't say anything about his morning wood but his fear was coming true when you asked.

"Wait." you said trying to decide if you felt his hard cock poking into your lower back or if you were making it up, but when you were sure you knew you were right you gulped and whispered. "Nico are you?" Slowly waiting a response you knew Nico was embarrassed, he let go of your arms and tried to turn his body to face towards the wall but wasn't as fast as you. Quickly you turned around in his arms lightly grabbing his forearm and lightly whispered his name again trying to meet his eyes. "Nico, look at me."

He paused in his movements in a few seconds he slowly looked down at you and asked "what?"

"It's okay baby, I miss you too." Not sure if your words would even make sense to anyone else but you knew Nico would understand. Breaking up was the hardest thing either of you ever had to do. "Nico I miss you with every fiber of my being and I think it's kind of hot that I gave you morning wood without even trying." you smirk at him. In an instant he closed the gap between you both into a messy kiss pulling you to lay on top of him. Neither of you knew what this meant but you knew one thing, whatever the next step was both of you were doing it together.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

I had an idea for a Son of Mors au which is just a Pure Crack.

Basically, what little of Eos' consciousness remains decides "I'm going to ruin this guy's entire career prophecy".

Bahamut: *preparing to announce the next king*

Eos: *body checking him so he flies off the screen*

Crystal-Eos: Hail Vitale Lucis Caelum! Hail King of Lucis!

Regis and co: *extremely alarmed wtf expressions*

I mean it's can either be a Pure Crack (because a 5yo on the throne) or a Pure Angst (because a 5yo on the throne) and in this case I think I would prefer the first. Especially since Regis would have no idea where to even start looking for Nyx and also would be expecting somebody near his age and not a flipping kindergartener.

*shoos angst bunnies back under the bed*

Okay this is funny. And dramatic. In the over the top drama way one cannot help but laugh at.

On a meta level just... Bahamut used - something - to bind Eos. And it took her many human generations to scrape together enough power to jump on the opportunity presented to her. She takes the power of the human souls nestled within her heart, and speaks.

(That is just background meta for myself, because I need to have this make some amount of sense in my head. XD)

So

Regis is about to get the blessing of the Crystal as each new King does before the coronation. It should just be a formality, as it has been for nearly 10 generations already. Since there hasn't been more then one Lucis Caelum child per generation.

But then.

The Crystal surges and announces a name no one has ever heard of.

"Vitale Lucis Caelum, the Hidden."

No one knows what to do with that.

The coronation gets put on hold. Obviously. An announcement is made. The Gods have spoken and who is Regis to deny them? (He's secretly very relieved that it's not him who has to be King. Up until he meets the new King, that is.)

It's the scandal of the century.

Mors Lucis Caelum had another son. Someone fucked Mors Lucis Caelum of their own free will. At least Regis dearly hopes that's the case.

(It was totally a hate fuck. But very much consensual.)

And then come the shenanigans of trying to find Vitale Lucis Caelum.

[nitrowyverine]

I think I write dating sim/VNs/etc reviews now? Anyway,

LOST IN LIMBO REVIEW/THOUGHTS

This VN piqued my interest, so I gave the demo a shot! This review will follow the same general format as my Obscura/Touchstarved review, except there's 7 (!!!) romance options.

Since I totally loved this game, I'm going to put the conclusion promo up here too: if Lost in Limbo interests you, consider playing it Here, Here on steam, and/or backing it Here!

ALSO! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DEMO!

My (long winded) thoughts are below:

(Banner image courtesy of the Ravenstar Games tumblr account pinned post. Individual character pics courtesy of tumblr posts from the studio. Individual posts are linked in character titles.)

Gameplay design thoughts:

the plot immediately sucked me in, I'm pretty invested in whatever the hell is going on with the protag, the realms, the lords, etc. I think the setup/land are deep enough to draw me in, but not so intimidating in it's depth that I'm afraid to explore more.

I always enjoy a little bit of nightmare fuel in my games, so the voidbound are perfect. They're so gross and horrible, but not just a stock zombie/nightmare creature design. Whenever the voidbound pop up, it makes the back of my neck itch, which is perfect.

I have no idea whose route I'll pick first. Usually I have one candidate that I can pick out as number 1. This game however? I go back and forth all the time, since I love all of them. I do think I have bias for Ara/Gael/Amon/Envy, maybe?

I really want to design an MC to doodle for this, but I feel like I don't know enough about other people in the realm. (Mostly, I'm assuming that standard humans don't have pointy ears? how close to our reality is the regular world?) I might say "screw it" and design an MC anyway (with some speculative clothing for once they get cleaned up)

The backgrounds have been great set pieces so far. Sometimes I catch myself just kinda staring into space at them. They've got a fantastic flavor.

Misc. Thoughts written during a replay

Fun touch to have Evie's rock image from the beginning fortune shop scene line up with the 7 LI's color schemes.

Each of the VA's does a lovely job with their voices. I've been turned off of certain dating sims because of bad voice acting, but the acting in this game is superb so far. It really helps set the richness of the story.

I have a theory that the LI's (and possibly people in Limbo in general) experience pain differently. The characters seem largely uninterested in the MC's stabbed, weakened state, beyond a "Oh that sucks....we'll clean you up later" mentality. I wonder if they have different pain tolerances, or are just less attached to such things. (Then again, Amon and Raeya have full missing limbs/eyes, so they probably have a decent perspective on pain altogether)

What does wielder/non-wielder mean? Xal says the MC "Can't wield, can't see." What do the LI's see that we don't? Ara mentions that the MC seems "Completely normal". Many mysteries.

I need those monster forms like crazy oh my goodness. Please devs PLEASE SHOW THE MONSTER FORMS

Now, to the lovely love interests!

Amon

WHO LET THIS MAN BE OVER 7 FEET TALL? PRIDE YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO

I only just noticed he also has a few freckles, *chefs kiss* (Waaaiit do all of them have little freckle skin textures??? Oh this is a glorious day.)

It's hard not to love a big friendly guy. I was honestly relieved when he first showed up, because I did Envy's route first, and I was thrilled to see a friendly face in the big dark scary woods.

This does not mean, however, that I'm not excited to see what this guy turns into when he's mad.

I like that he has pity for MC when they first show up, but I do worry it makes his resolve weaker. I'm not as confident that he could handle society/reality breaking down as well as the others. Can he put aside his affable nature for when shit hits the fan?

Question: What level of fight had to happen for Amon to lose his eye? He's already huge, and has some sort of telekinetic powers. My theory is that he was taken by surprise, maybe by someone close to him.....(Envy I'm looking at you)

RIP Amon you would have loved Hawaiian shirts

Conclusion: Most likely to be the camp counselor who hurts his back from always giving piggy back rides. Least likely to keep his composure during a badly timed pun/dad joke.

Raeya

I'm fighting for my life whenever shes on screen good LORD

Similarly to Amon, I GOTTA know the story behind her prosthetic arm. Its so rad looking, but how did she lose a whole arm? (I am also considering that she was also not born with one)

Playing the demo again, she makes a specific comment about the monsters having not "infected a limb" of the MC. My bet is that's how she lost her arm.

I wish I could have spent 1:1 time with her, but it wasn't offered in the demo. I'd love to have like, a sit down discussion with her about history. (Well I'd be fine getting lectured about history and drinking tea and hanging out)

Out of everyone's motivations, I think I understood Raeya's the most. Even if she was against MC, I think her concerns are completely valid. If an alien fell out of the sky from a different reality to earth I'd ALSO be taking every precaution

She and Amon have matching ear chains, that's adorable....

I hope I can take her on a nice date and spoil her and let her relax in the full game, pretty please. Nothing bad will happen right???

Conclusion: Most likely to gently remind the waiter that you said NO pickles with your order, thank you very much. Least likely to admit to being the one who farted in a crowded room.

Envy

every other line from him is "UGGGHHH" and i love that for them.

After playing, I think I've finally realized that I've got a soft spot for grumps. just grumpy lil friends with their pouty faces

I want (vivi's) Envy's nails SO BAD. I need him to do my nails because theirs are perfect. Envy, envy PLEASE

They pretend not to care, but are already getting attached to the MC by the end of the demo. I can't wait to see what they're like when they actually DO get attached

Elephant in the room, what could he have possibly done to get himself demoted so severely? Everyone seems to be fine with him being demoted except Amon, who sheepishly vouches for him when he can.

I just wanna wrap him in a blanket burrito like you do with a spicy kitten. and then give him little smooches

Conclusion: Most likely to be they guy who gets one drink at a party and sits in the corner with the dog/cat all night. Least likely to allow their partner to willingly boop their nose with any regularity.

Pride

Old man yells at cloud? No....old man IS cloud.

The dev's tumblr has mentioned that he's a pathetic old man, but for now at least, I am afraid of his authority and power. since hes like. yaknow. the big god of this world

The VA did some fabulous work for his voice. I definitely got actual chills in certain parts. 10/10

Okay, so WHAT is this guy's deal with mirrors? He looks great, why is he worried about it. I sincerely doubt he's just 52 though, if he's a god. (as a note for all these interests, I have a feeling that the ages are their physical ages, and not their actual ages. Or at least, age relative to ours. I think they're much older in our years than in their years.)

We also didn't get any 1:1 time with Pride in the demo, so I'm fascinated to see what alone time with Pride would be like. Is he quiet? a chatterbox? Just a guy??? does he only play piano and not talk to you. (power move)

Conclusion: Most likely to show up WAY over-prepared for Parent-Teacher conferences. Least likely to understand and survive the cinnamon challenge.

Ara

Certified CUTIE PIE

We got a pretty clear demonstration of everyone's powers in the demo, except for Ara. Unless it was too subtle for me to realize, I'm not actually sure what her cool powers are yet.

If she DOESN'T have plant powers I'd be very surprised.

I keep wanting to think things like "I have to protect her" or "keep her safe at all costs". But then I remember she's likely absolutely terrifying, and I honestly should be actually afraid for anyone who gets in her way.

I would like to remind/inform everyone that so far, she is the only member of the cast who is visibly armed at all times. (Raeya doesn't count even if her arm claws look really really sharp.)

If I have to pick anyone to party with, it's probably Ara. I know she'd throw an absolute rager, but would also make sure you stay hydrated. I wanna hold her hand too. Please?

I'll go butch for her, i'll do it if thats what she wants. I'm weak

Conclusion: Most likely to be able convince you to give her your kidney. Least likely to let you skip a bloodthirsty game of monopoly because you "Have a headache"

Gael

where did he find pants long enough for him.

Okay. So its HIS fault that Amon has the deepest V-cut since time immemorial. Do you think Amon and Gael had an extensive argument about the minimum amount of clothes Amon has to wear at any given time? Because I do.

His powers certainly did not. Awaken anything in me. Nope.

he has the shortest and most perfect arc from stranger -> friendly -> ???? -> BETRAYAL

I am MASSIVELY curious about his dissociation/spacing out during the demo. He was 8 million miles away in the tower for some reason, and I HAVE to find out why. I just KNOW this man is doing some questionable shit with good intentions and I can't wait to find out what it is.

So, he has SOME issue with touch. No idea what it is, but I can't wait to find out what it is. Also noting he's the only one with full-coverage gloves in the cast. Interesting...

Conclusion: Most likely to cry after being sent those sad FB/insta animal stories. Least likely to let you open your own car/carriage/etc door under any circumstances.

Xal

He looks so soft. I have to bully him, in a good way. (Like grim from Date with Death)

I am fascinated as to why he would lie for MC. That's such a great hook to his character. What does a guy who so desperately wants to be left alone have to see to stick his neck out for a stranger?

SOMEONE get this man a NINTENDO DS POST HASTE

THIS GAME HAS TO GET FUNDED BECAUSE XAL SAYS HE HAS A CAT AND I WANT TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will do it, I will be the one to tuck him in when he is too eepy. I will carry him to bed and kiss his little head good night

Wait, if he can "Figure something out" by touching it, he could be like, the worlds greatest doctor. Xal please get off the couch and help me diagnose mystery ailments in a medical sitcom

Conclusion: Most likely to injure himself rigging up a Rue Goldberg machine to scratch his back. Least likely take it easy on you once he learns how to play super smash bros. (He's a fox/falco main)

Concerns:

What the Ravenstar team has already been able to accomplish is incredible. I'm worried that with 7 whole love interests (with a possible two more on the way if the kickstarter goes well), i'm worried the devs are taking on a whole lot of work. I think they're fully capable of taking this on, but I hope they don't burn themselves out in the process.

I'm pretty happy to see the kickstarter is moving along, but there's always the chance that something happens, and/or the kickstarter goal isn't met. BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING THIS IT GOT FUNDED LETS GOO!!! I still hope this project makes it all the way to completion beyond the kickstarter. Things can always happen, so Ive got my fingers crossed for the Ravenstar team!

OVERALL CONCLUSION:

I loved the demo, and I have now backed the project! The team is trying to hit stretch goals now, so share Lost in Limbo with your buddies! I crave content for this game like nothing else.

[mischiefbuckley]

Finally got around to reading the interview that Ryan did with Kat for US Weekly and OMG a few different points I want to talk about from the article!!!

Again with all the interviews/press Ryan has been doing prior to season 8 and even towards the end of season 7, like very excited to see all this attention and focus on a Eddie for season 8 and again can’t wait to see Eddie’s journey with everything like it will truly be something special with again his background as a Mexican character who grew up with a Catholic religious background and how that’s influenced him in his own life when he went on and married his girlfriend more out of obligation then anything else and him being a single dad and this being the first time since he got back from duty that he hasn’t been in Christopher’s life so having that time by himself to reflect upon him and I like what Ryan said about “this portion of Eddie’s story is going to be a little bit more involved in his lack of - and his gaining of - self love.”

Like again this is the first time in a Eddie’s life where he’s by himself as an adult and his only sole responsibility at this point in his life is his job and being apart of a team now that had a change of captain, so him acting out at work with all the personal stuff going on in his life wouldn’t be a good idea so again he now has time to reflect on himself and is able to focus on what makes him feel better

I’m just very excited to see Eddie’s journey for season 8 and again all the interviews he’s been doing just make me even more excited because Ryan’s seems super thrilled

[randomly--accessed--memories]

@storm-ismyusername

Okay, so, the "Vox's kids die as children AU." I came up with the image of Vox keeping his kids in a fish tank first, but upon further reflection, I've realized that it doesn't really line up with the timeline I've established.

Vox's children were 7 and 10 when he died (1957)

Vox worked under an overlord for 3 years after his death until he broke free, started his own business, and met Alastor (1960)

He and Alastor were friends for 6 years until they fell out (1966)

Vox gained official overlord status 2 years later (1968). By the time Vox had the resources for the fish tank plan, his kids would've been 18 and 21.

The only window of time where Thomas and Sarah can die and still be children is 1957-1961, so it would have to happen when Vox was still in the employ of his overlord. I actually think the idea of struggling single dad Vox is really charming, so let's go with that.

With that background, I'm not sure if Vox would feel the need to do the fish tank thing since they went a decade without anything going wrong. Maybe it exists, but Sarah and Thomas aren't confined to it 24/7. Everyone already knows they exist, so they're allowed to move around the tower as they please (they are absolutely not allowed to go outside, though).

Okay, with that out of the way, onto the responses. Gonna answer this in parts: this one is the pre-canon stuff, the next will be the canon stuff, and the third will be RAM stuff.

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 1-Dying 2-Going to Hell 3-Reuniting with your dead Dad (who now has a TV for a head) Would any of their Sinner features be different? Is it weird I can see Vox being more fatherly to Sarah and Thomas than he was in his human life? So when Sarah & Thomas die as kids does Vox find them before or after his big fight with Alastor? If before, what would Alastor make of the situation?  How long does Sarah and Thomas fend for themselves in Hell? A few days, a few weeks, a month, a year?  Did someone find the first? Did Vox only learn his kids were in Hell when someone was using them as blackmail against him? Did Sarah and Thomas watch as their father brutally murder their kidnapper in front of them?  Maybe another Overlord (like Carmilla, Zestial, or Rosie) found them and gave them to Vox because they felt threatening children was beneath them and drew the line at hurting kids. Wait what if Alastor found them first? What would he do with them if he did?

Okay, so Sarah and Thomas die somewhere between 1958 and 1959. They still drowned, maintaining their aquatic theming, but I'm not sure how exactly– could've been from their mother driving under the influence and crashing the car through a bridge's guardrails, could've been just regular drowning at the beach or something. Their mother survives, so they land in Hell alone (I have no idea what an 8~9 and 11~12-year-old could've done to get sent to Hell, but let's just move on).

Not sure how Vox finds them. In the main AU, they found him by recognizing his voice in an advertisement and seeking him out, but at this point, Vox is just some random nobody. Let's just assume he got extremely lucky and happened to come across them 1-30 days after they first arrived but before anyone else thought to scoop them up. Vox is horrified that they're dead and in Hell and privately swears to permakill his wife for letting this happen if he ever sees her again. He brings them back to his shitty little apartment and starts trying to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to care for children in Hell.

Despite the circumstances, Vox is actually a better father in Hell than he was on Earth. He has nothing to his name other than a shitty errand boy job, a tiny apartment, and his two small children, who he thought he'd never see again. While the stress of having to provide for them is a beast, losing everything sort of forced him to get his priorities in order. They become far more tight-knit than when they were alive, as Vox is forced to spend more time with them and get creative when it comes to meeting their needs.

It's all quite the adjustment for Thomas and Sarah. Dying and trying to survive on the streets was as traumatizing as you'd expect. Reuniting with your dead dad and having to adjust to living in poverty is also a lot to take in. Every day, they're stuck in a one-room apartment with gunshots constantly going off outside and explicit instructions from their father to be as quiet as possible and not open the door for anyone– very different from the upper-middle-class suburbanite life they were used to. Eventually, their dad will come home with cheap food, they'll spend some time together, and then all curl up in their one bed and try to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's not a comfortable life, but it's definitely more intimate than how things used to be. Thomas starts letting go of some of his resentment of Vox since he can tell he's actually trying now, and Sarah's view of him as A Good Dad, Actually solidifies.

Eventually, Vox secretly kills his overlord, starts his first business, and is taken under Alastor's wing. Things become more comfortable for the three of them, and Alastor becomes something akin to a weird but fun uncle to the kids. Things are looking up for the family as Vox starts to build power and wealth. It's horrifying for the kids when Vox comes home one night without a head and swears vengeance on Alastor, but that incident only adds to Vox's upward momentum. After ten years of struggling in Hell, Thomas and Sarah (or rather, Fineas and Ondine) find themselves back in the lap of luxury as their father claims the title of the Overlord of Television.

[thatapostateboy]

just for one day

Pairing: Eva 'Rook' Mercar x Davrin, background mention of Solas x F!Lavellan

Word Count: 2957

Synopsis: Rook steals some time away with Davrin

Warnings: Brief description of battle and suggestive sexual comments, written pre-release so may be OOC, does contain some spoilers but they are very mild and only stuff from the first mentions/trailers so read at your own peril

Crossposted: Here on AO3

“Why are we hiking up a mountain fully armed and armoured, but without any backup?” Davrin asked.

Rook glanced around at him from where she was leading the way, “Well that would ruin the whole point of it being a surprise, now wouldn’t it? Besides, we’re not fully without backup.”

She nodded upwards to where Assan was soaring overhead, having followed the pair of them as they headed through the eluvian out of the Lighthouse, and into what looked like remote Orlesian wilderness.

“You must be expecting trouble, else you wouldn’t have insisted on the armour,” he pointed out.

“The whole world’s in trouble,” she reminded him, “I just figured we could do with blowing off a little steam.”

“If you wanted somewhere more public to blow off some steam, I am sure there are places in the Lighthouse we could-”

“Not like that!” she snorted, pausing in her steps to look at him, “Though, keep that thought in mind, I’m interested where it’s going, and I appreciate you going along with what you thought was an exhibitionist kink. My actual plan was for us to go on a monster hunt.”

“Really?”

“You’re a monster hunter who’s had to fight some stuff well beyond your pay grade recently, and I thought we could go back to basics. You get to show me all your fancy moves, Assan will get some practice in, I get to swoon over how hot you look, and we get to fight something that isn’t world-ending together.”

He chuckled softly then met her eyes. The last mission, well, every mission since they had met, had meant losing more than winning. And even when they won, it had come at a cost. He knew how hard she took every loss, even if she hid it behind sharp wit and unending sarcasm, there was no doubting the toll it took on her. He suspected that this was as much a distraction for her as it was intended for him.

“Okay then, monster hunting it is,” he smiled, receiving one in return, the true unmeasured smile that she reserved specifically for him… and Assan, though he’d never point that out, “What are we hunting?”

“A wyvern.”

“Have you ever faced a wyvern before?” he asked as he continued to follow her up the mountain path.

“No, but how hard can it be to kill one?” she shrugged, throwing a smirk back at him, “Orlesians do it for fun.”

~*~*~

As it would turn out, it was much harder to kill a wyvern than she had originally planned. The beast had been twice the size of what she had been in one of Davrin’s books, which had led to this idea, and its venom had stung like an absolute bitch when she dodged one of its attacks too slowly. The next blow, however, had been blocked expertly by Davrin’s shield, effortlessly holding off the creature’s maw and he’d had to shout at her to stop staring and stab the damn thing.

She’d shot him a grin and a wink and slid under his legs to slice at the wyvern’s throat. It had thrashed and roared in pain, knocking both Warden and Shadow Dragon flying with its flailing body. It began to charge towards Eva, but all it took was a decisive whistle from Davrin and a bolt of feathers and sharp claws came tearing down from the sky, finishing the beast with a deadly strike.

Assan looked up and chirped at Davrin, wide eyes seeking praise for the kill.

“Good boy,” he said, giving him a well-earned scratch behind the ears.

The griffon preened then began to tuck into the tough flesh of the wyvern after Davrin gave him an approving nod.

The Warden wiped the beads of sweat away from his forehead as he looked for his companion, spotting her propped against a rock, not far from where the wyvern had tossed her, staring away from the scene of the battle, into the valley below.

“Eva,” he called to her, “Are you alright?”

She leapt to her feet, spinning to look at him with a wide grin across her face, her hair a complete mess, face and armour splattered with blood. She all but threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and pressing a hard kiss to his mouth.

He hummed in surprise, but kissed her back nonetheless, enjoying the warmth of her form against his. She was still a little breathless, the tremble of adrenaline coursing through her body. He felt her starting to tug on the buckles of his armour, loosening it just enough to slip her hands inside, desperate to feel the heat of his skin.

He knew this dance far too well. He had roughly thirty seconds before she used those quick roguish fingers to get him down to his breeches.

“How quickly do you think we can get back to the Lighthouse?” he asked, words barely out of his mouth as she kissed him hungrily again, and again.

She paused, looking up at him, “What happened to indulging my exhibition streak?”

“I have no qualms about getting you naked in a field,” he admitted, before he reached a hand up to rub some grime away from her face, “But we are both covered in blood, and guts, and gods knows what else… So perhaps we park this, and reconvene in the bathhouse?”

She met his eyes, a little scrunch to her nose as she conceded that he was being sensible, “Counteroffer… we go wash off in the lake and you can still have me naked in a field.”

“What lake?”

“The one about five minutes that one down the path,” she hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

He cocked a brow at her, “Is that what you were looking at after the fight?”

“Perhaps.”

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself, “Counteroffer accepted.”

She grabbed hold of his hand and yanked him towards the path, giving him just enough time to shout at Assan to stay put and enjoy the wyvern carcass.

~*~*~

He had to admit, the lake had been an excellent idea.

The lake itself sat in a beautiful clearing, surrounded by trees on one side, part of the mountainside on the other, giving them complete privacy and serene surroundings… until Rook had gone barelling past him, clothes abandoned in her wake, leaping into the water before loudly yelling that it was Maker fucking blasting bastard cold.

He had chuckled as he watched her splash around, before stripping off himself, her eyes immediately on him as he bared himself to her, wading calmly into the lake to join her.

She latched herself onto him instantly, seeking his natural warmth, and steadier form as he quickly realised that she was not a confident swimmer. Not that he minded of course, it meant being able to hold her against him, feel every inch of her as she clung to him, giddy and breathless as they lazily kissed, the adrenaline from the fight melting away as they enjoyed the peace to simply be together.

It had, of course, still ended with the pair of them twisted together beneath the boughs of a willow tree, laying atop his discarded cloak so that she didn’t get grass in her hair.

“I could get used to this,” she said softly as she rested her against his chest, idly tracing old scars on his skin.

“You once told me you’d rather eat halla shit than willingly camp outside. I think this evening might be a one off,” he pointed out with a chuckle.

“Hey, that was months ago,” she protested with a laugh of her own, “I feel like I’ve grown as a person since then. Besides, my partner is a Dalish monster hunting Grey Warden. I think some camping may come with the territory. I’m not saying that I’m going to be getting vallaslin or reaching for the Joining cup again time soon, but if we live through this, if we actually save the world and get our lives back… I think I could get used to more days like this.”

He glanced down at her, taking in the look in her eyes.

It wasn’t often that she was emotionally vulnerable with him, even less that she spoke of the future. She focused on the present, on the dangers directly in front of them. She wasn’t one to hope for anything past surviving day to day. Even when they had begun their love affair, it had started as something borne from mutual attraction and seeking some company. It was meant to be one night, and then back to being colleagues in the morning. And yet, it had kept happening. They would seek each other out for physical comfort, a distraction, and soon it had become more than that; spending hours talking about their pasts, getting to know the different sides of elven culture from each other, laughing and joking about the most ridiculous things, tucking her in as she fell asleep in the chair in front of his fire.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t begun to think of a future, what it would look like if they truly made it through this. He would still be a Grey Warden, there would always be monsters to fight, but there wouldn’t always be a reason for Eva to be at his side… not unless she chose to be.

She had a life of her own outside of the Veilguard. She was a Shadow Dragon, she had fought for years against corruption in Tevinter, giving everything she had in the fight for freedom for every slave. And beyond that, she had a home that she some day wished to return to.

And now, here she was, looking at him with an almost pleading expression, seeing if he wanted the same thing; a future that they could decide on together.

He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first before he deepened it, pulling her flush against him.

“Evanura,” he whispered against her mouth, “Ar lath ma.”

~*~*~

The next morning

“Solas, can I ask you something?”

She was drawn into their shared pocket of the Fade, the one he existed in physically that she could see into in her mind’s eye to allow them to communicate.

He stepped before her, and she watched a small, familiar smirk cross his face, as it often did when she said something that entertained him, “You rarely ask permission before bombarding me with questions.”

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t be a smart ass, I just need your help translating something.”

“Very well,” he nodded, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, “I will assist where I am able.”

“It was a phrase I heard, I mean- came across when… reading.”

“Go on.”

“I believe it to be elven, but I have never heard it before, not even in the long tirades where you are chiding me for something.”

He chuckled a little at that, “It may be colloquial to the more modern Dalish elves, but I am sure I can trace it back to its root.”

“It was… ar lath ma.”

And for the first time in more years than he could fathom, the Dread Wolf was struck silent.

He remembers the first time he’d said it to her, unable to control himself as he finally gave in to her for the first time. Not in the Fade, but in physical flesh, the taste of her mouth still lingering on his lips, the warmth of her skin still palpable even as he pulled away, murmuring the words as he did, a confession that he hoped she had never heard.

She had been kind, had not chased after him, had given him the time to say it again when he was ready.

Until that night at the Winter Palace, when he had danced with her under the stars, and she had invited him back to her chambers. He had tried to stay away, but she proved to be his weakness. She had said it herself then, declared so boldly that he wondered if the lingering servants and spies in the hall had heard her. She had kissed him, whispering the words sweetly against his skin as they both gave in to temptation 

It was always in elven, their pet names, the soft ‘ma’lath’ and ‘vhenan’ they would call each other, the declarations of love… until that night in Crestwood. She had said it to him then, a hitch in her breath as she held back tears, telling him that she loved him.

Don’t do this, not now… I love you.

And when he had seen her again, the day she discovered the truth, and she had questioned it any of it had been real. If only she could have known that it was the only real thing he knew anymore.

He snapped back to himself when he realised that Rook was still in front of him, looking at him concerned.

“Da’len…” he said quietly, “You know what it means.”

“This isn’t the time for one of your ‘Eva doesn’t listen to me’ lectures. I have never heard those words before.”

“Evanura,” he sighed her name, “Listen to your instincts. You know what your Warden feels.”

“How did you know that’s where I heard it? Besides, he’s not my-“ she began to protest in her usual fashion until the realisation hit her, “Wait! That’s… it means…?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit! But that’s…” a look of dawning horror crossed her face, “Oh I’ve fucked up.”

He frowned, “What did you do?”

“He may have said that… and I may have walked away from him.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You didn’t ask what it meant?”

“I was embarrassed. I’m starting to learn the language from you, and from him, and Bellara, but I didn’t know that one so I just, kinda… laughed it off.”

“Go find him.”

“But-”

“It is a rare thing, to find someone who holds your heart. He knows you well enough to know you are not cruel… Go to him.”

~*~*~

Across the Lighthouse, sat with a frown on her face, Harding levelled a look at Davrin.

“So what exactly did you say?”

“Well, we were both covered in wyvern blood, and-”

“Yeah, I don’t need to hear the details of how you guys had sex in the woods.”

“How did you know?”

“Neither of you are subtle, and I helped Rook scout the place out,” she admitted, “Get to the part where you confessed your undying love and she ignored you.”

“It was… after,” he said, “We were laying together under this willow tree, watching the sun set over the lake, it was beautiful, and peaceful, it was the most perfect moment. So I kissed her, and then I looked into her eyes and said ar lath ma. And she stared at me for a second before she just smiled, got up and declared that she was going swimming. She jumped right into the lake. It’s not even that she didn’t say it back, or if she told me it was too soon, but she just ignored that I said it.”

Harding raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re an idiot.”

“Wait- why?”

“Just think about it. For a minute. Think about why she might have ignored you saying ar lath ma.”

She watched him intently before he let out a gasp and put his face in his hands, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are.”

~*~*~

She burst out of the doorway at the base of one of the towers, heading quickly across the courtyard towards Davrin’s quarters when she saw a familiar figure leaving from the other building, striding purposefully towards her.

“Eva!” he called to her, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. There’s something I need to tell you.”

She reached for him as they met, grasping at his hands like she was scared he was going to disappear in front of her, “I know. I need to talk to you too.”

“Eva, I love-”

“Davrin, ar lath-”

“You.”

“Ma.”

They looked at each other with giddy smiles, still clutching to each other’s hands.

“Wait… you know what that means?” he asked.

“I didn’t, until about three minutes ago,” she admitted.

“How did you… Oh gods, you asked Solas, didn’t you?”

She chewed her lip, “Maybe.”

“Well, the Dread Wolf knows far too much about my love life as it is already. What’s one more thing?”

She giggled, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Do you mean it? What you said, did you really mean it?”

“Of course. I love you, Eva, ma lath, ma vhenan, and whatever the future brings, I want to be at your side.”

“I love you too. You make me want something after this, a life together, something to fight for.”

“Can you two just suck face already?” Taash called from one of the nearby balconies where they turned to realise that all of the other members of the Veilguard had gathered outside of their prospective rooms to see this confession come to fruition.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint our audience,” Rook grinned, leaning up and kissing him.

He wrapped his arms tight around her, dipping her back a little like he had seen described in those terrible romance novels Varric wrote, earning shouts and applause from their friends.

Whatever happened, whatever tragedies they would face tomorrow or the day after, they were both willing to fight for something more, a life beyond, and even if it would never come to pass, they had today, this moment, and nothing, no ancient elven god or even his Calling, would take that from them.

[mc-tummy-blur]

It probably gets lonely up there

Click for better quality

Check my pinned post to see links on how you can help the people in Palestine

[eissaphir]

I thought of this with a carnival in mind but feel free to interpret this any way you want. Looking at you, Radioapple shippers

[skeletalheartattack]

...am I just losing my mind or did yer icon become evil? I don't remember that BeAst behind Boe

yuuuump always been behind me

[pastelwhile-art]

Cause

Cause he doesn't eat any dishes in the game

No text version under cut

[sl33pyst4r5]

A little doodle of Grimm cuz I wanted to draw butterfly wings

[wereh0gz]

I wish they added a place based on a latin american country in sonic unleashed. Or the caribbean specifically. That would've been really cool

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmate AU in which you see the way you die when you touch your soulmate for the first time.

And yeah we have the classic "bottle to the neck" scene which is kiss chief 👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼 BUT I present to you "Steve touched Eddie by mistake during high school" with a little bit of "Steve is an idiot and didn't notice" and "Eddie is suffering".

The fall of 1883. Steve has yet to make a move on Nancy, let alone touch her. Meanwhile Eddie is living his best life as of yet : his father finally got put in prison, new freshman has joinend his club and they finally found a drummer for their band. Yes, Will Byers got missing and Eddie felt a little bad for Jonathan, but that was life. Nothing could change Eddie's good vibes.

Until The King of Hawkins runs by him while trying to get to one Nancy Wheeler. The touch was barely there, a hand brushing by Eddie's leather jacket, but it was enough to trigger their apparent soulmate bound. That's when Eddie saw himself in front of his trailer (which looked more like a military base or a fortress with how heavily guarded it was), holding into a made up spear and a shield made with a bin's lid with nails pushed into it. There were huge bats (?) (Eddie wasn't sure what to name the things in the sky yet) getting out of the trailer and him from the vision began running towards one of the bikes outside, getting on one of them and pedalling away from the trailer.

He was yelling for them to follow him. It probably made sense, if uncle Wayne was in the trailer, for him to try get those monsters away. That didn't stop Eddie from being surprised at seeing himself trying to be the hero.

He was no hero. Eddie has always run away from conflicts, from fights and situations that put him in a bad spot. From help too, until his father finally lost it to the alcohol and Eddie has to accept uncle Wayne's offer to move with him if he wanted to stay alive. He was known for running away.

Yet he was trying to get the monsters away from the trailer, distract their attention. And he made a good job too, until his bike got stuck into a vine and made him hit the ground. Eddie felt sick while watching his vision self try fight the monsters only to get pinned down by them and eaten alive. He from the vision was yelling from pain and it took agonizingly long for the huge bats (looking closer they had no resemblance of bats, yet it felt right to call them as such for some reasons) to drop on the ground. By then it was more blood outside of Eddie than inside and he could see his vision's self organs from one of the bites.

There was more, Eddie knew there was more to watch, more to see before he was going to take his last breath, but the vision was too much and it took all of his willpower to get out of it. By then he was alone in the hallway, the classes going while he was watching his own death happen. He went straight for the bathroom and pushed his way into the first stall before getting on his knees and vomiting all he got to eat the other day.

He was crying. Eddie could tell that it was going to happen soon, with how young he looked in the vision. At that point it didn't even mattered anymore that his soulmate was the biggest jerk alive, not when the future was so dark and he wouldn't survive it.

Somehow Eddie spent the rest of the school classes in the bathroom, switching between vomiting and mourning over something that he was never going to have.

[bookwyrminspiration]

can you give more information on ayyám-i-há? it sounds really interesting and i want to know what you're suggesting by it, because it didn't quite register when i read your post jsjskxkxn

Absolutely I can! I shared more of what it is in this post, but I didn't really explain what my thoughts behind bringing it up were. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to clarify

Essentially, my thought process was hey, ayyám-i-há involves gifts and giving and generosity, this fandom loves to have little events and support each other. I wonder if we could combine the two. And I'm proposing this non-religiously, not bringing any belief or holy ideology into it. I'm atheist myself and just like to celebrate as an homage to my background, even though I don't believe

My very loose idea was that during ayyám-i-há, which this year is from February 25th-March 1st, anyone who wanted to celebrate with me could make each other something fun, like a silly doodle or a fic snippet or a moodboard or small playlist or something. And for those who don't have the time or energy to make anything, you could send nice asks, leave nice comments, reblog some extra art works during that time to foster community and cheer.

Because that's what it's really about. The physical gifts aren't what matter, it's the joy and indulging in each others company! Which you can do just by supporting each other and being together.

It doesn't need to be anything big, but this fandom has been very open to sharing and supporting headcanons and creations that relate to everyone's cultures and backgrounds, and I thought this could be a simple way to share some of mine! Since we already do practically all of that, it could just be a little boost with ayyám-i-há in mind and an opportunity to learn about and participate in another culture

It is an open invitation from me, someone raised baha'i, to all of you! I think I covered my thoughts? but if anyone has any questions or anything feel free :)