#i don't even know what else to tag this with

[nereidprinc3ss]

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 

Spencer doesn’t respond. 

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks. 

You do it again. 

Another squeak. 

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding. 

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 

But you don’t bring those up. 

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?” 

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

[reiderwriter]

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Or at your breakfast bar?” 

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 

“Spencer, its 2pm.” 

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 

“Laundry?” 

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 

Your voice cracked again. 

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 

“And you deserve a break.” 

“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 

“You all had reasons, I-” 

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 5

I have no restraint. I have NO restraint. I HAVE NO RESTRAINT!!! So guess who starting writing a SEQUEL to this because she was feeling too sad to write Sweet Home Indiana? Yup! I would apologize, but this story is too cute for words.

We have a mild panic attack about the ending of the chapter from Steve, Eddie's plan, and Steve accepting an offer that made mostly in jest, but also in deep earnest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

TAG LIST IS CLOSED!!!

But if the people on my list that haven't interacted on my stuff lately don't reply by Sunday slots may open up. So don't despair just yet if you want to be on the list and can't.

****

Steve banged his head on his locker in frustration. Why did he do that? Why did he tell Eddie he was interested in boys, too? Why did he trust the other boy to have his back? Especially when no one else seemed to.

He sighed.

He wrenched open his locker and a little pink heart fluttered to the floor. He frowned as he picked it up.

They weren’t going to hand out the hearts until Valentine’s Day so what was this then?

-Stevie

I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you.

Kas

Steve blinked down at the little heart in confusion. It wasn’t the exactly the same color as the hearts they were going to give out for the holiday. But it was close. He rubbed his thumb over the sender’s name.

Kas.

He knew it wasn’t a real name, having recently poured over the yearbook. So it had to be a reference to something, but what he didn’t know. He stuck it in his jacket pocket and grabbed what he needed for his next class, vowing to worry about it later.

As he sat in his chemistry class waiting for it to start he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it again. The pen was red ink and bold. Steve found himself smiling at the strange little pink heart.

Suddenly it was ripped out of his hand.

His head snapped up to see Tommy H. standing there with it in his hand. “Someone is sending Harrington Valentine’s hearts?”

“Give it back, Tommy,” Steve growled. “It’s none of your business. Not anymore.”

Tommy looked him in the eye before tossing it to the ground and walking off. “Whatever.”

Steve bent over to pick it up.

“Some girl named Kassy or whatever,” Tommy was telling Nicole. “Could be anyone from the younger grades.”

“I suppose so,” she said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “But anyone with sense would know he’s the plague now.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “Just because he refuses to suck either of you two off doesn’t mean he’s still not the hottest guy in school.”

Tommy rounded on her and called her a bitch.

She just scoffed and swung back around just as the teacher walked into the room. The tardy bell rang and he called the class to order, effectively squashing all gossip.

Steve ducked his head to hide his smile. He might feel a bit bitter that it was her party that Nancy threw their relationship in his face at, but it wasn’t her fault his girlfriend had gotten so pissed drunk that she lost her ironclad control. And right now he was feeling especially grateful to her for that comment.

He managed to get through his class just from riding that high alone.

His last class was algebra and it really should have been made illegal by now. The way the numbers and letters seemed to float off of the page as he struggled to parse their meaning. He just had to pass one quarter of this shit and he could graduate.

So he put his head down to learn and just suffer through it.

After school, he got to his locker and knelt down to open it.

Again a pink heart fluttered out of it. But this time it had a couple of friends. Steve stuck them in his jacket pocket again and exchanged books. He grabbed his English and history homework so that he could get them done for tomorrow.

He opened the back door of his car and threw in his backpack. He went to open his door when Eddie was suddenly at his side.

He leaned up against the door, preventing Steve from opening it.

“So the king swings for both teams?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Steve looked around, but they were alone for the most part, so he just shrugged. “Some guys are hot and for some reason I can’t fathom, I trust you not have it all over the school by lunch tomorrow.”

Eddie chuckled and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I wouldn’t do that to ya.”

“Yeah and why would that be?” Steve asked turning around and sticking his hands in his front pockets.

“That would be because it would be hypocritical of me to go spreading around the school someone likes guys,” he said, bumping their shoulders together.

Steve looked at him for a long time before he nodded. “You know by now I don’t put much stock into rumors. I did that once and got my shit rocked for it. Lesson learned, man.”

“I heard about the infamous Byers left hook,” Eddie agreed. “That was some pretty major shit rocking.”

The jock rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he was my first concussion.”

The older boy looked up at the sky as he thought about it and then nodded. “Billy Hargrove would be round two, I’m assuming?”

Steve nodded and then threw his head back. “This year has gone from bad to worse and I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

Eddie hummed his agreement. It really has seemed like Steve couldn’t catch a break. “I feel that. I’m really struggling this year. Last year I didn’t graduate because I so focused on getting out of here, making it with my music that I forgot the promise I made to my mom that I would. Graduate I mean. But this year is just hell.”

“That sucks, Eds,” he agreed.

“You think you’re going to graduate?”

“God, I hope so,” Steve murmured, collapsing against the side of his car. “I just want to get out of this town.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “Where would you even go, man?”

“I’d pick a direction and just drive for as long as I could,” he admitted softly. “I just need to be as far away from this place as I can.”

The metalhead nodded. “If we both graduate we should hop into my van and just run for the coast.”

Steve smiled fondly. “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie pushed himself off the car and then waved Steve goodbye.

The younger boy got into his car with a sigh of relief. Not only did Eddie promise not to out him, he came out to Steve, too. Now it was mutually assured destruction.

Steve smiled and started the car for home. Maybe this year was starting to get a little better.

****

Eddie shoved his hands in his back pockets as he made his way to his van. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask Steve to runaway with him or what possessed Steve to agree but it left a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

He hauled himself into the van and sat there for a moment just thinking about it. Of course that meant graduating himself, so he would have to focus on that. His van roared to life and he drove off.

It took him a couple of tries but he finally found the construction paper he needed. He had even found some black construction paper that he was going to use to make little paper bats to tape on the inside of his locker to make it less miserable.

Especially as he was told he couldn’t have his metal band posters up in there. They were too “evil” and “Satanic” and he should be more “Christ like” as if they were epitome of Christian virtue with all the hate they had for anyone not like them.

But Eddie got down to work and started making as many pink hearts as he could. He had thought briefly about adding a couple of red hearts in the mix, but he thought that was a step too far. He didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up that he had multiple crushes on him if that wasn’t true.

He still planned on giving Steve his one red heart that he had bought. That wasn’t in question. He had already filled it out and returned it to the great big baskets that had been in the main hall.

It simply read:

Stevie,

You make being in this town worth living in,

Love,

Kas

He let out a slow shuddering breath. That was one of the scariest things he had to do since choosing to live with an uncle he had only met twice his entire life over being in the system. He knew his life was infinitely greater being with Uncle Wayne and he hoped this would yield a similar result.

Because he had made a promise and with all signs pointing toward Steve at least being receptive to a date, he had to shoot his shot and hope for the best.

He had made roughly fifty or so of the pink hearts and set about dividing them into four piles. With Jeff, Gareth, and Brian offering to help with the friendship hearts he wanted to make sure everyone got a few of them. Plus it made it easier to come up with things. Because even if they came up with similar ideas, they at least would be phrased slightly different so Steve wouldn’t figure it out.

He also had the idea of using pseudonyms so that it wasn’t all anonymous and initials, though there would some of those too.

But it was time for band practice, so he gathered up his things and the hearts and trotted off to his van, a wave and goodbye to Wayne on his way out.

****

Steve finally opened the other three hearts. Two were anonymous but the third surprisingly was from Tina.

It read it in the tiniest print that was still legible:

Steve,

I know we’re supposed to turn these in or whatever,

But I just wanted to say you’re still A-OK in my book.

-Tina

He blushed. That was nice of her and after she stuck up for him in chemistry, he was feeling a little better about himself.

The other two were just as sweet if a tad unusual in their delivery. The first one said:

Steve,

I’m sorry you lost your crown,

you kept the bullies from being their worst selves.

And the other read:

Steve,

You are a good dude.

Sorry people are shit right now.

Steve shook his head. They were well-tended, he had no doubt but they were odd. Like they were trying to find something nice to say and didn’t know how to word it.

Which, fair.

He knew he had a hard time coming up with complements for the twenty girls he’d picked out for his little project. He had to make sure the message wasn’t creepy or would come across as stalker-y.

He smiled down at the messages. He pulled out a little notebook that he had used to collect all the little things that the kids had given him over the past couple years and put the hearts on their own little page. He carefully put the book back, hidden between two textbooks from his freshman year.

“Steven!” his mom called. “We’re home!”

“Coming, Mom!” he cried, hurrying down the stairs.

****

Tag List: Closed

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[wholoveseggs]

Hey can can I ask for something soft with Elijah? Like a lot of praise kink it could even be her first time and he's so gentle and aftercare please

Gratitude

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

It's a warm summer night and Elijah plans a special date for you, hoping to make your dreams come true.

♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely anon! I love writing about soft and sweet Elijah ♡♡

4.7k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, virgin!reader, first time, so fluffy, so sweet, lots of praise, cuddles & tiramisu ...

It was a rather warm day in New Orleans, the birds were chirping and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the feeling of the sun on your skin, the warm breeze in your hair.

You were on your way to the compound, Elijah had invited you over for a special date night. A smile crept up on your lips at the thought, you felt giddy and breathless. You had never been so in love, it was a magical feeling, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, a tingly feeling running through your body whenever you saw him.

It was still so hard to believe that this handsome, intelligent man could love you, wanted you, the same way you wanted him. You had spilled all your secrets to him, told him things about yourself that you had never shared with anyone else. Your heart felt so safe in his hands, he made you feel like you could tell him everything and he would still love you, still be there for you.

So you had decided to share something very special with him, something you had never shared with anybody before, something that you could only give once.

The closer you got to the compound the more nervous you got, not in a bad way, it was the good kind of nervousness, the butterflies in your stomach were fluttering harder and faster, your heart beat a bit quicker, your breathing was a little heavier, the giddiness increased.

A few minutes later you entered the compound and the smell of delicious food immediately hit your nose. Elijah had cooked dinner, your favourite meal. He was always so thoughtful, remembering little details about you and making sure to take good care of you.

You practically skipped into the kitchen, expecting to see Elijah, but it was empty, instead you spotted a note on the table, you recognized his beautiful handwriting.

My love, I've gone out to pick up dessert, please go ahead and make yourself comfortable, enjoy a glass of wine in the garden, it's such a lovely evening. -E

Your smile grew as you read the note, he had a tendency to be rather extra, always making you feel special.

You walked towards the wine cabinet and took out one of your favourite red wines and a glass before walking into the living room towards the garden.

"Don't you look absolutely lovely this evening," Klaus' voice sounded from the sofa, his nose buried in a book, he didn't even bother to look up.

"Thank you," you replied with a shaky voice, Klaus always made you feel nervous, but Elijah had assured you that his brother wouldn't hurt you, that he would respect your relationship and he had, but he did enjoy teasing you a bit too much, he knew exactly what buttons to push.

Klaus put his book down, "I see my brother has gone overboard for your date tonight. How long has it been, three months?" He looked at you, smirking.

You gulped, "Yeah," you managed to squeak out, not breaking eye contact.

"Hmm, and yet you haven't stayed the night here, not a fan of sleepovers?" Klaus grinned.

You blushed and quickly looked down, "We're just taking it slow," you replied shyly, knowing that that wasn't the truth, Elijah was waiting for you to be ready.

Klaus chuckled, "I see, well I will let you enjoy your evening then," he stood up and walked past you, stopping right behind you, he whispered in your ear, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

You blushed even harder and quickly turned around, but he was already gone. You sighed and walked out onto the patio, trying to calm down, it didn't take long for your nerves to go away.

Elijah had gone overboard, the whole patio had been decorated, a blanket and pillows laid out in the middle, fresh flowers everywhere, with twinkle lights hung all over the place. It was absolutely stunning.

You let out a quiet squeal of excitement and quickly poured yourself a glass of wine, sitting down in the soft blankets and pillows. You sipped your wine while enjoying the peaceful sounds and smells, the warm breeze brushing against your skin.

Alone with your thoughts, the nervousness started to come back, you shifted against the pillows, squeezing your thighs together. You couldn't help but think of what was going to happen later. The idea of Elijah touching you, filled your stomach with butterflies, a heat forming between your legs.

You heard the door slide open, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Sorry I was gone for so long," Elijah smiled at you, "I couldn't find the right dessert."

He bent down to give you a quick kiss, placing a paper bag next to you.

"No worries," you smiled, "This is absolutely gorgeous," you gestured around you.

"Not as gorgeous as you," Elijah looked at you with admiration in his eyes.

"You're just being sweet," you blushed, looking down.

He softly pressed his lips against yours, his hand moving to cup your cheek. You kissed him back, putting your hand over his.

"Are you ready for tonight? I don't want you to feel any pressure," he asked softly, his eyes full of love and adoration.

"I'm nervous, but in a good way, I'm excited," you assured him.

"Good," he said and leaned in to kiss you again.

The servers came out with the dinner Elijah had prepared. It was delicious and the evening went by fast, you talked about everything and nothing, your conversations with him were always so easy and effortless.

"So," Elijah said as the servers took away the last plates. "Dessert?"

"I'd love that," you nodded, smiling.

He reached into the paper bag and pulled out a container. "Tiramisu," he said, opening the lid.

"My favourite," you said, looking at the desert with wide eyes.

"I know," Elijah winked.

You blushed and leaned forward to take a bite, moaning at the delicious taste, you had never had a better tiramisu, the creamy texture mixed with the bitter coffee and sweet ladyfingers.

Elijah couldn't tear his eyes away from you, hearing you moan was music to his ears. He couldn't wait to hear you make that noise again.

"You have a little cream there," Elijah chuckled, wiping it away from the corner of your mouth.

You blushed and watched as Elijah licked the cream off his finger, it was such a simple gesture, but it made your panties flood, you couldn't help the small gasp that escaped your mouth.

Elijah chuckled, you were so sweet and innocent. He loved seeing you flustered.

The sun had started to set, painting the sky in orange and pink colours, it was beautiful. You sat on the pillows, admiring the sunset and the stars slowly appearing in the dark sky, candles providing some light.

You leaned your head against Elijah's shoulder, letting out a content sigh, you felt so safe and warm, his arms around you.

"Thank you for tonight," you mumbled.

"Of course," Elijah whispered and kissed the top of your head, "I wanted to make it special," he said softly.

A comfortable quietness settled over the two of you, just enjoying each other's company, and the beautiful summer night.

Your mind raced, thinking of what came next, a warmth pooling between your legs, a wetness starting to form. You wanted him so badly, the thought of his touch was exciting and a bit scary, but you trusted him.

"Elijah? Can I ask you a personal question?" You asked nervously.

"Of course," he said softly, stroking your arm.

"What was your first time like?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Hmm, a very long time ago," Elijah chuckled. "She was a sweet girl, I was a young man, very eager," he smirked, thinking back.

"Were you nervous?" You asked, a hint of shyness in your voice.

"Extremely," Elijah said, smiling to himself. "I had no idea what I was doing... sex ed was nonexistent back then."

You giggled, imagining a nervous, young Elijah, all lanky and awkward.

"Fortunately she was a good teacher, she took control, guiding me, we laughed a lot and it was fun, despite not lasting very long," he smirked.

"Sounds like it was a good experience," you replied.

"I actually did something so embarrassing...I'll never forget the look on her face," Elijah shook his head, a laugh escaping his mouth.

"What was it?" You asked, hoping not to repeat his mistakes.

"Well... afterwards... we were cuddling and I... Thanked her," Elijah said, shaking his head, smiling.

"Thanked her?" You asked confused.

"Yeah, I thanked her for allowing me to have sex with her," he laughed.

"Oh my god," you burst out laughing. "How did she react?"

"She stared at me, completely dumbfounded, then she burst out laughing," Elijah shook his head. "Only then did I realise that wasn't the thing to say," he chuckled.

"Yeah, probably not," you giggled, imagining the situation. "But still very sweet of you," you smiled.

Elijah hummed softly, pulling you tighter, kissing the top of your head again.

The candles had died down, the patio was mostly dark now, the stars and the moon were the only things providing light.

You relaxed into his touch and the sweet scent of his cologne, it was so familiar, so comforting.

"Can we go inside?" You asked, looking up at him.

He nodded and helped you to your feet, leading you to his bedroom, which was just as thoughtfully decorated as the garden. He had scattered flowers on the bed, pink and red petals forming a heart on the soft cotton sheets.

Elijah could sense your unease, the tiny ways your body reacted, the quickening rise and fall of your chest, the skipping of a beat. It reminded him of his first time, the excitement and anxiety mixed together. He knew he had to take the lead, make you feel comfortable, make you feel confident and safe.

He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your neck softly.

"We can stop at any point, no matter how far we've gone, okay?" Elijah spoke quietly in your ear.

"Okay," you whispered, closing your eyes, his words giving you a sense of security.

You relaxed against him, enjoying the softness of his lips. His hand went to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down, his fingertips grazing your spine as he did.

Elijah's other hand lightly traced along the straps of your dress, pushing them off your shoulders, letting the dress fall around you.

Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, having never been naked with anyone like this, having anyone's eyes on you.

Elijah noticed your hesitation and kissed the sensitive spot right behind your ear, his stubble tickling your neck, making you giggle.

"You are beautiful," he whispered in your ear.

Your cheeks turned a light shade of pink and you smiled shyly, not used to being complimented like that, and knowing that he really meant it.

"Can I see?" He asked softly, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with every step of the way.

A wave of heat travelled through your body, another blush creeped up, settling on your cheeks. You felt so vulnerable, yet it felt right, safe, with him.

You took a deep breath and slowly moved your hands away from your chest, your arms resting by your sides, allowing him to look at you.

"Perfect," Elijah whispered, his hands slowly caressing your arms, his lips pressing soft kisses on your shoulder.

You loved the sound of his voice, the way his lips felt on your skin, they were so soft, so gentle. His hands were on your hips, his fingers travelling along the edge of your panties, he pulled on them slightly and let them snap back into place, teasing you.

You turned around to face him, your hands sliding up his chest and pushing his suit jacket off his broad shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with your dress.

Elijah cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone, lovingly looking down at you. You were so lovely and sweet, the trust you had in him made his heart flutter.

You locked eyes as you started to unbutton his shirt, your lips parted, your breath heavy, your chest heaving. Each inch of his chest that you revealed, made the fire in the pit of your stomach grow. You ran your fingers along his muscular chest, looking up at him shyly.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands roaming down your body, gently kneading your ass, pulling you closer.

You gasped as he pressed your body into his, you could feel his erection against your stomach, it was a bit intimidating, the size and shape, but at the same time you wondered what it would feel like inside you.

Elijah let his shirt join his suit jacket, then his hands travel up your back, slowly unclasping your bra. He moved his fingers along your arms, gently removing it before he tossed it aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

You blushed under his intense gaze, feeling very exposed and vulnerable. You felt his hands gently cupping your breasts, smiling down at your flushed face.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered and softly squeezed them, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers.

A small moan escaped your lips, his touch sending sparks straight to your core.

"Do you like that?" Elijah asked softly.

"Yes," you breathed out, your hands gripping his biceps.

"Tell me what else you like," Elijah hummed, slowly walking you backwards towards the bed, his hands moving up to your shoulders, gently pushing you down onto the sheets.

"I..." You were at a total loss for words, he was leaning over you, his hands on either side of your waist. You felt his knee press against the bed between your legs, spreading them.

Elijah could tell you were enjoying yourself by the way your body reacted to his touch. The way your hips subtly pushed forward, the way your blood pumped faster, the way your breathing got heavier.

He dipped his head and captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking and gently biting. You moaned softly, tangling your fingers in his hair. Elijah chuckled, moving to your other nipple, his tongue swirling around the hard nub.

He released your nipple with a pop, looking up at you, "I asked you a question, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," you gasped, feeling him move his knee higher between your legs.

"It's okay, just relax," he said soothingly, his lips pressing against yours.

He kissed you slowly, waiting for you to make the next move, wanting to make sure that you were comfortable enough to ask for what you needed.

You could feel him smile against your lips, "There we go," he hummed approvingly as you began to rub yourself on his knee, your hips rolled, slowly building a rhythm.

Your hands explored his arms and shoulders, feeling the soft chest hair underneath your fingertips. Your hands moved lower, feeling his toned stomach and the v muscles along his hips, stopping at the waistband of his pants.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric for a moment, debating what to do next, your heartbeat fast and your brain a bit hazy. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, his gaze was intense, with an obvious lust behind them.

You blushed and quickly looked away, nervousness washing over you.

"It's okay, we can go nice and slow," Elijah whispered into your ear, kissing along your neck as his hands travelled down your body.

You could only let out a small noise of pleasure, trying to swallow past the lump forming in your throat, nerves getting the better of you.

Elijah's fingers caressed your thigh as his lips made their way down your body, paying careful attention to every inch, every piece of skin, every curve, kissing each freckle and scar, until he reached your belly button.

He looked up at you through his lashes, pulling down your panties agonisingly slowly.

You shifted uncomfortably, your legs starting to tremble now that you were completely bare and exposed to him.

Elijah dropped your panties on the floor, his eyes finally able to look at the place he wanted to be for weeks.

You pulled your knees together, shrinking back from his gaze. You felt so embarrassed, so inexperienced, so clueless. You were afraid that you would disappoint him, knowing nothing about pleasuring another person.

He gently nudged your thighs apart, his thumb gently caressed your hip, kissing the other. "So pretty," he hummed as he trailed more kisses down your thigh.

He watched as your chest kept rising and falling rapidly, getting more and more intense the closer he got to the one place he wanted to spend the night worshipping.

Your hands fidgeted nervously, unsure of what to do with them, you squeezed them by your sides, digging your fingernails into the sheets. Your mind was racing with a million insecurities and desires all at once.

The first gentle flick of his tongue felt like heaven, your eyes rolling back as your breath hitched in your throat. 

"Oh," you sighed softly, your hands immediately going to his hair, threading your fingers through his locks and tugging slightly.

Elijah nipped and sucked at your inner thighs, building you up, "You taste so sweet," he said, before lapping at you again.

He felt your body starting to react, your hips pushing against his mouth, searching for more, more friction, more release, more pleasure.

His tongue felt amazing, swirling around your most sensitive spot, teasing you over and over. You had touched yourself before, but nothing like this, nothing you had ever done felt this good.

Your legs trembled, unable to stay still, but Elijah pinned them down, his strong hands tight around your thighs, holding you against the bed.

You couldn't help the noises coming out of you, as you gasped for air, watching Elijah bury his face between your thighs. You sat up a bit on your elbows, watching him please you.

His face was pressed so close to you, his eyelashes fluttered as his tongue flicked your clit. His nose nudging your most sensitive spot with every movement of his head.

"Elijah," you moaned, tugging on his hair, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets.

He couldn't get enough, the way your thighs trembled in his hands, the way your scent invaded his senses, the noises, the taste. You were everything he could dream of and more. His sweet girl.

As the heat between your legs grew, so did the pleasure, the familiar feeling of an orgasm was building within you. There was something utterly magical about having the person you love make you feel this good, how your heart swelled and pulsed along with the throbbing between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt your head spin, falling back onto the pillows. Your back arched and your hips began to move of their own accord, searching for more pressure, more release.

Your breath caught in your throat and then your body was overwhelmed with that wonderful blissful tingling feeling, crashing and crashing, over and over. All your muscles tensed and untensed, your mind going completely blank and fuzzy.

Elijah helped you ride out the waves of pleasure, licking you slowly, letting you come down from your high. Your eyes closed and lips parted, your hips still slowly moving on their own.

When the aftershocks finally faded, you opened your eyes, your chest heaving. Elijah was looking up at you, his hair wild and his cheeks covered in your wetness. Your whole body turned red as you blushed. You covered your face in embarrassment.

Elijah chuckled, wiping his face off on your thigh and then kissing and nipping his way up your body.

"Hey," he whispered, peppering little kisses on your hands.

You peeked at him through your fingers, giving him a coy smile.

He laughed softly and moved his hands along your arms, smiling down at you. He had never seen anything more gorgeous. You blushed like crazy and could barely handle him touching you.

He kicked off his pants and leaned forward pressing his lips to yours as he pulled the sheets over the two of you, cocooning you both under the white cotton.

You giggled, the feeling of his skin in the low light and his soft kisses kept your mind busy, allowing the pleasant butterflies to flourish.

"Still nervous?" Elijah asked playfully.

"A little," you admitted.

"We can stop," he hummed, stroking your hair.

"No way," you said, a smirk pulling at your lips.

Elijah grinned and then kissed you deeply. His hands explored your body, feeling the smooth curves and dips. He pushed you onto your back and pulled you gently under him, the sheets softly rustled with his movement.

The air was stuffy and warm under the covers, but you were both happy to stay enclosed. Cosy and surrounded by just each other, in your own little universe of bliss.

You could feel his erection hard and warm against your skin, the only thing separating you now was his boxers. You bit your lip, he was so big, far more impressive than any toy you had used.

Your fingers hesitantly pushed his underwear down, reaching between your bodies. Your hand was shaking as you felt his skin, soft but so firm, warm and delicate.

You wrapped your hand around him as best you could, feeling the silky skin, slowly stroking him. It was a feeling that was new to you, the first time feeling someone else like this. Your eyes met his and your stomach did a somersault, you felt so close, so intimate.

"Is this okay?" You asked in the softest tone, causing Elijah to lean into you and catch your lips in a passionate kiss.

"It feels wonderful," he murmured against your lips, his hips pushing into your touch, loving the sensation of your sweet touch.

Slowly, your hand moved along his shaft, your fingertips lightly squeezing him every so often. Your mind raced, nerves were creeping in again, it was time, it was actually happening, there was no backing out now.

You opened your legs a little wider, inviting him in, you knew that it might hurt a bit, but you were in the safest place you could possibly be, with the sweetest man you could ask for. 

He put his hand over yours, guiding himself to your entrance, his tip just barely grazing you. He took a deep breath, leaning into you, resting his weight on his forearm.

"I don't want to hurt you," Elijah whispered. "Tell me what feels good and I'll keep doing it."

You nodded and relaxed the tension that you didn't even realise you were holding. He supported his body and then eased into you slowly.

You inhaled sharply, your hands tightened into fists, holding onto his shoulders tightly, it hurt a bit more than you thought.

He paused, kissing you, his lips sweet and slow. You gradually started to feel more comfortable, his warm, firm length slowly filling you, inch by inch.

You broke the kiss and let out a deep shaky breath, the pain fading into pleasure. His lips didn't waste a moment, showering kisses along your neck.

"You're doing so good," he hummed. "I love how you feel," he breathed out heavily, not sure how long he was going to last, after fantasising about this moment for weeks.

You had imagined this moment so many times, how all your senses would react, but in your mind, it never felt like this. He was warm, careful and tender, protective and soft, loving and sweet. You felt so full of him, stretched in the most pleasurable way.

It was so strange and new, to feel this intimacy, to feel the connection. Your hearts beating, his lips on your skin, your hands laced together, your bodies melting into one.

He began to move slowly, with deep, gentle strokes. You tilted your hips slightly, the angle changing, his length brushing along the sensitive spot inside of you. A moan came flying out of your mouth as an incredible jolt of pleasure rocked your body.

Elijah made sure to keep the same angle, rolling his hips perfectly, listening to your small noises of pleasure, memorising every sigh and moan that escaped your perfect lips.

There was no rush, he didn't speed up, content on just making you feel good for as long as you both could last.

You were lost in a haze, your hands intertwined, the heat of the sheets surrounding you, the bed creaking with his even strokes. Everything in the outside world seemed to evaporate, there was nothing outside of the cocoon of your love.

It wasn't long until you were both moaning together, your chest heaved, your hips grinding together. He felt so deep, your fingers digging into his biceps, trying to ground yourself.

"Such a good girl," Elijah whispered. Observing a layer of sweat covering your skin. He could feel you squeezing around him when he praised you, your legs closing around his waist, pulling him close.

"Hmmm, you like that?" he murmured, kissing the side of your neck.

He felt you moan more and arch your back slightly, too lost for words, your mind was flooded with pure pleasure. All he wanted was to indulge in every single fantasy that had crossed your mind, to feel every sweet emotion that flowed through your veins.

"My love," Elijah mumbled, his own heart thrumming. You felt like a dream to him. "You were made for me,"

All your senses were overloading, his hands, his skin, his scent, his sweet voice in your ear, telling you how good you made him feel.

You squeezed his hands, letting out the sweetest moan he had ever heard. One he would etch into his memory forever, memorising the pitch, the way it started and fell, the softness of the sound.

You squeezed him so tightly that you almost pushed him out of you, your second orgasm washed over you, your mind focused solely on the warmth and fullness of his body on top of yours. It felt like nothing you could describe, emotional and overwhelming, absolute heaven.

Elijah could no longer contain himself, the feeling of you and the sounds of your moans of pleasure pushed him over the edge.

You watched him as his eyes squeezed shut, his muscles tense and he let out the sexiest groan, vibrating through his chest and into yours. You felt his warm release fill you as he thrust deep inside of you.

He kissed you deeply as you both rode out your highs together. Wrapped up in sheets and each other, you simply existed for a while, breathing heavily, your chests heaving against one another. Your breathing falling in sync after some time.

When the high had faded, he gently pulled out and collapsed next to you, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. You felt sticky and exhausted, but happier than you ever had.

He pulled back the sheets, the cold air making you snuggle closer, his warmth radiating through your bodies. You kissed lazily and then simply laid together, listening to the other's heartbeat and breath.

"Thank you," you teased, looking up at him with a cheeky grin.

Elijah tickled your sides, rolling on top of you, smirking as you giggled and struggled to escape.

"How dare you throw my embarrassing secret back in my face, and so soon after we've made love," he growled, playfully, his lips peppering kisses all over your face.

"Oh, thank you Elijah! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You squealed between laughs.

He smiled, kissing your forehead and then rolling off of you, laying on his side, pulling you to his chest. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, running your fingertips along the soft hair that was scattered across his chest.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," you giggled, kissing your way up his neck.

"Worth the embarrassment," he said, gently lifting your chin with his finger and bringing your lips to his in a soft lingering kiss. "And you are very welcome,"

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[toji-girl]

Levi - 7

(Idk if i did this correctly 😅)

18+ content only - mdni

you did do it correctly yes 😌

tags: fem reader + modern au + explicit smut + age gap

Levi couldn't ignore the pang in his chest when the sweet scent of your perfume wafted around him when you sat so close to him. You were his assistant and younger, not by much but albeit.

Your skin glowed in the golden sunlight that streamed from the open windows, highlighting your features and the modern classroom.

"I can feel you staring, Mr. Ackerman, do I have something on face?" You hummed never breaking your concentration from grading.

Silver eyes narrowed, then shifted down to his own papers on the desk. "I was checking your work." He replied smoothly that if you were anyone else, you wouldn't have picked up on his tone.

You hummed again, making his blood sizzle as the two of you finished until the stack of papers resembled a paper mountain, and your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. "Call it a evening?"

Levi didn't want to, but sleep always eluded him anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning." He husked with a nod, watching as you stood up, gathering your things, working up the courage to ask you to stay.

It's been two years since you've been working under him, and he likes the flow between you and him, how you're able to shoot back so quickly with ease and a grin.

"I have a date, so I can't be late or I won't get another mate." Your rhyming usually made him chuckle or roll his eyes, but the mere mention of a date made his skin tighten with jealously.

The next evening, Levi could tell you were withdrawn. Your little comebacks didn't shine through his sass and it was clear you're upset.

"Bad date?" He questioned when he settled next to you. Your eyes never shifted from the paper as you shrugged, unsure what to tell him.

Levi is your boss, not some twenty-five year old co-worker you can gossip with about getting dicked down only to end up disappointed.

Your face flushed with warmth as you remembered how you moaned Levi's name and not your dates when he went down on you. It wasn't until then when you finally came and he left.

"Have a one night stand go bad?" You asked, letting the question settle between the lines of silence that was filled with static.

Levi shifted in his seat briefly, remembering a date he had a while ago with the same woman he's been going out with for the last several months and how he dreamt of your mouth instead of hers pleasuring him.

She knew exactly what to do to get a man to cum in less than a minute but Levi's guilt refused to let him experience the bliss and his orgasm was dry, painful leaving him irritated.

You were all he could think about. "No, sex should be with someone you have a connection with, so I don't do that." He simply replied.

Levi was always honest.

Sometimes, too honest, but you appreciated that about him.

"Well, when you want to get off...anyway it was awful, ever call someone's name out?"

Your question made his dick twitch with his fantasies of him kissing your pussy then riding him in his chair with your tits in his face.

He wanted to let his hands be greedy and feel you up. "No, I've never done that either."

"You are old." You teased rolling your eyes now feeling a bit perkier.

Levi took notice and handed you a stack of paper. "I'm a decade older, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to please a woman."

Courage or pure stupidity got a hold of your mouth and pried it open. "Prove it."

His eyes narrowed in challenge as you both engaged in a stare off until you leaned in closing the distance to kiss him fully on his mouth.

Levi's lips were soft and tasted like tea, his tongue parted your lips to sweep in your mouth as you scrambled from your chair to straddle him.

His bulge pressed against your aching pussy as you ground down on him as your fingers flew down his shirt to unbutton it and reveal his body to your touch that seared his flesh.

He hissed when you dipped down lower to unbuckle his belt. "Mr. Ackerman--" Your breath mingled with his as your nose bumped his.

Your gaze met in a heated exchange as his hands slid into your pants and panties to grope and squeeze while the both of you undressed each other with wet kisses that followed after.

At any time, anyone could walk in and see you two dry humping until you were naked in his lap, and he was half naked thrusting wildly up.

His cock slid between your slick pussylips separating them catching his tip on the soft opening of your cunt. He held you close to him and helped you sink down slowly.

The both of you let out soft, drawn-out moans as you rode him slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongues tangled.

[charrlote365]

SAND, SEOYEON AND S*X Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE SEOYEON Word Count: 13.077 Tags: Romance, massage, Kpop idol, fromis_9, Lee Seoyeon

As the sun set below the horizon, painting the desert in hues of orange and pink, I couldn't help but dazed at how surreal our honeymoon felt. Here I was, in the middle of nowhere, with Lee Seoyeon, the love of my life and, incidentally, a member of fromis_9. The expansive desert stretched out before us, an endless canvas of dunes that seemed to go on forever.

Seoyeon's laughter echoed through the air, her unique husky voice making the sound even more enchanting as we hiked up yet another sandy hill. Her joy was infectious, "CAMPING, CAMPING, CAMPINGG!!~", she kept singing loudly while jumping around in the sand, and despite the sweat trickling down my back, I felt like the luckiest man alive. Fate indeed works in a mysterious way, who would have thought that our paths would cross like this, leading us to this moment?

"Hey, look at that cactus!" Seoyeon exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a tall, spiky plant standing high amidst the sand. She ran towards it, her oversized white shirts waving around. I jogged to catch up, grinning at her childlike enthusiasm.

"Be careful, babe," I warned playfully. "Those things can be pretty prickly."

She turned back to me, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you afraid of cactus? Just be afraid of me ~, because I can bite! Happp!! hehehe~"

Before I could respond, she stumbled, her foot catching on an unseen rock. Time seemed to slow down as she was falling forward, right onto the cactus. My heart skipped a beat.

"Seoyeon!" I shouted, rushing to her side. She sat up, a look of shock on her face, now adorned with tiny cactus thorns. Despite the situation, she started to giggle, her husky laugh vibrating through the air.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," she said, her laughter bubbling up. I couldn't help but join in, the absurdity of it all hitting us both at once.

"Let's get you back to the hotel," I said, helping her to her feet. "We'll have you de-thorned in no time."

We made our way back, the heat of the day giving way to a cooler evening breeze. Back in our room, the light was soft and warm, casting a comforting glow on Seoyeon's face. She sat on the edge of the bed, still giggling intermittently. I fetched the first aid kit, trying to suppress my own laughter.

"How many staycation stories start with a cactus attack?" I said, sitting beside her with tweezers in hand.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Not many, I bet. But it makes for a great story, don't you think?"

"I do. And it's all part of the adventure," I replied. "Just our little secret."

She smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. "Our secret staycation in the desert. No media, no fans, just us."

I started to gently remove the thorns, one by one. She winced occasionally but kept her spirits high. "Does it hurt?" I asked, pausing to look into her puppy eyes.

"Um, a little," she admitted, her voice sulky. "But it's okay, it's worth it for the memories. Besides, it’s kind of funny. I mean, who else can say they hugged a cactus on their honeymoon?"

"Of course, the great and the only one, Lee, Seoyeon," I replied, chuckling. "You never cease to amaze me."

She giggled, her husky voice making my heart flutter. "You know, this reminds me of that one dream I dreamt few days ago, I tripped and fell into a bush during a festival performance. The fans thought it was part of the choreography."

I laughed, imagining the scene. "So, did you play it off like a pro?"

"Of course, even in my dream I'm still that great dancer of fromis_9" she said with a wink.

I continued to carefully pull out the thorns, the process surprisingly hard. Her laughter made it easier, turning what could have been a painful event into a bonding experience. Occasionally, she would make a funny face, and we would burst into laughter all over again. And for every laugh she does, the more I fell deeper for her.

"You know," she said softly, "I've always been in the spotlight, even in my childhood. My life is always about performing. But now that I'm with you, I can just be myself. Even with a face full of thorns."

I paused, looking at her with nothing but love. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," I said. "You're perfect, even with thorns and all."

She smiled, reaching out her hand to touch my right cheek. "Thank you for always being there, for making even the craziest moments special."

"That's what love is, right?" I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Being there for each other, laughing through the chaos."

By the time I finished, her face was free of thorns, and she looked radiant despite the disaster. We sat there, in our little desert oasis, enjoying the warmth of our love and laughter.

"I need to take a shower," I said, standing up and stretching. "Make sure you don't get into any more cactus-related trouble while I'm gone."

She laughed, her husky voice following me into the bathroom. The warm water felt amazing after the long, adventurous day, and I took my time, savoring the moment of solitude.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I was greeted by a sight that made me burst into laughter. Seoyeon was laying on the bed, her face and upper chest covered in gummy bears made from honey.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked, still chuckling.

She looked up at me with her silly face. "Honey is supposed to be good for healing scars, right? So I thought these gummy bears might help." She explained playfully.

I couldn't stop laughing. "You do know you look like a walking candy store right?? Come here, you."

I got on the top of her and slowly picking off the gummy bears one by one, popping each one into my mouth. She squealed in mock protest, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Yaaa..Stop eating my medicine!" she scolded jokingly, swatting at my hands.

"But they taste so good," I replied, grinning. "And besides, you're already healing. Laughter is the best medicine, remember?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "You're just the worst."

"And you love that about me right," I said while leaning myself down to kiss her. Despite of her small face, her lips are rather thick, they wrap my lips like a warm blanket, our saliva mixed all together and it tasted like honey thanks to the gummy bears I just ate. Our tongues were slipping against each other like they're going to melt to be one. I then stopped and walked away from her, she was wondering why I didn't continue. "Where are you going? Let's continue, I still need your love to heal, you know?" She lamented.

"Yes, mam! wait a minute, I have something you will like", I said as I reached into the first aid kit bag again, this time pulling out a small bottle of essential oil. "You know what this is right?," I asked, pouring a few drops onto my fingertips. Massaging her body with oil has been our routines. She loves it when her body is sticky with oil and when I rub her body, she always squeals and giggles.

She raised an eyebrow, Pretending not to know. "What's that? I know nothing about that, I'm innocent, officer", while trying to avoid eye contact with me.

Ignoring her respond, I started to take off her white shirts and bra. I could see her breasts which upper part filled with bruises and scars from the thorns, and also red line mark on her shoulders from her bra straps. I poured some oil onto her body and gently dabbed the oil gently on her shoulder where the thorns had left small marks. She shivered slightly at the touch, a giggle escaping her lips.

"That tickles," she said, her voice husky and playful.

"Sorry," I said, grinning. "I'll be gentle." I continued rubbing the oil to her neck and her face cheeks. Looking at her silly face up close which now filled with some scars and bruises from the fall, I couldn't stop myself to kiss her lips again, wanting her to know that I will take care of her from now on, no matter what. I closed my eyes slightly and used my lips to rub over the oil on her scars slowly, she felt ticklish yet aroused from all the kissing and started hugging me tight. Her breasts pressed against mine so tightly that I could feel her heart beat getting faster.

"This feels nice," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," I replied, my heart swelling with love for this incredible woman.

I continued rubbing her body with my lips. I kissed her nips which laced by oil, and rubbed the other nip with my finger. She let out a little moan. Her breath is getting uncontrollable and she started biting her finger. Her eyes were locked on me, they're filled with trust, love, excitement and lust. Just looking at her expression made me filled with pleasure.

I sneaked my right hand into her pants and started rubbing her pussy. I could feel sticky substance already soaked her underpants. I licked my finger that's laced by her love juice and put it back inside her. She shouted as 2 fingers in were too much for her.

"Ups! Sorry. We just started and you're already soaked, Seoyeon-ah." I teased her.

"Shii.. just be quiet and get it over with, I'm still in pain, you know..", she replied with pouty mouth on her face.

I stood up and removed my bathing robe, letting them drop to the floor. I went back on the bed and slowly took off her jeans. She couldn't say anything as her heart beat faster, knowing what's going to happen next.

I raised her legs up and opened them wide. I could see her pussy bare open and I couldn't hold myself to suck and bite her clits slightly hard. She was surprised by it that she screamed so loudly I was afraid people in the next room might hear us. Luckily, I realized no one's gonna hear us since we're in a hotel that's close to be nowhere on the map and she continued to moan loudly. I continued licking her pussy like I was a cat licking butter and put my middle finger into her pussy. Her pussy neck is so short that I could feel her womb gate with just my finger. I teased her womb by squeezing them inside and she started pulled my hair yelling how good it felt. I kept teasing her womb and I could feel her pussy wall suddenly got tight as she arched her back and sprayed her love juice all over my face and the bed.

As if it wasn't enough I put 2 fingers back into her and rubbing the upper part of her pussy, teasing her g-spot with every thrust. She felt her high coming again and within seconds she reached her climax for the second time and her body shuddered roughly. I licked and sucked her pussy to clean it from her love juice, including the thick, white liquid oozing from her that tasted like cheese, my favorite delicacy. lmao.

"Hmm, your pussy is so tasty", I teased her while she was still gasping for air from her second orgasm. Yet suddenly, right after she stopped, she raised up and gripped my hard rock penis. "Ouch!", I yelled as I didn't expect her move. "Now it's my payback", Seoyeon said while looking at me with sharp gaze after what I just did to her. She suddenly bit my penis tip hard making my knees weak and I shouted "Yahh! Seoyeon-ah!! Please be gentle!".

"Just be quiet and man up", she replied with a little giggle. She then sucked my dick like its a boba drink that she likes. Every suck feels like my soul getting suck into her mouth. My penis barely fit to her small mouth that it felt as tight as her pussy. Her mouth walls wrapped my dick with its warm, wet and intensely. Slowly but sure, I feel the tickling sensation turned into ecstasy, my head's got lighter and just like that I spurted my sperm inside her mouth. I grip her head and push it closer and deeper into my crotch as I went high up to heaven. My sperm flowed so much that it started to spill on the bed. She then opened her mouth to show how much sperm I just unloaded roughly into her tiny mouth.

"Wait, lemme get the tiss..", but before I could even finish my words she replied "I already drank it", with her giggle and husky voice, delightly. Aftermath was a mess with our bed was wet, stained with our body fluid. We quickly cleaned them up as we didn't want to be fined by the hotel and even used the hair dryer to dry it up quickly. It was so tiring, that still naked, we lay down on the bed, with no energy left in us.

As we laying side by side, facing each other closely, we leaned in for another kiss, I felt the warmth of her breath against my lips, mingling with the sweetness of the honey and the floral scent of the oil. The room was filled with the scent of the desert, a blend of flower oils and our fluids, lingering reminders of our wild day. Her eyes, shining with love and amusement, held mine as we shared this intimate moment.

Cuddling her close, I whispered, "I can't wait to see what other crazy adventures we'll have."

She smiled, her husky voice soft in my ear. "As long as we're together, I'm ready for anything."

And as we kissed, sealing our promise, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, with laughter, love, and a spirit of adventure that would see us through anything. In that moment, our secret honeymoon in the desert felt like the most perfect beginning to the rest of our lives.

[puck-bunny-for-all]

Masterlist

New Jersey Devils :

Nico Hischier -

thnx 4 having ussss

swiss style

everyone say thank you to nina

I took a pill in ibiza

thanks devil babies

swiss swim

puppy love

2 months

off season jealousy

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Curtis Lazar -

lil red devil

Ghosts Of You - C.L (Curtis Lazar) *trigger warning*

"Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Jack Hughes -

happy 9 years my baby daddy

I try to be supportive

lil huggy

boat day bitch

beach bum

baby devil

WRITTEN -

Never Be - J.H (Jack Hughes)

"I need your love to light up this house ; I wanna know what you're all about..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Dawson Mercer -

Headcannons

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Vancouver Canucks :

Brock Boeser -

family

close as strangers - written

momma and papa of the year

uncle quinn

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Elias Pettersson -

Beside you - E.P (Elias Pettersson)

"When we both fall asleep underneath the same sky ; to the beat of our hearts at the same time..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Quinn Hughes -

lil huggy

enough bags

mommy mode

Luke is crying in the car

ocean eyes

cant hide forever

no one else but you

WRITTEN -

Unpredictable - Q.H (Quinn Hughes)

"We can run down the streets, with stars in our eyes..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Thatcher Demko -

Lie to Me - T.D (Thatcher Demko)

"Problem was I thought I had this right..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Toronto Maple Leafs

Tyler Bertuzzi -

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Matthew Knies -

signing pucks n shit

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Auston Matthews -

life lately

always working

beach day

WRITTEN -

No Shame - A.M (Auston Matthews)

"I only light up when cameras are flashing...."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬William Nylander -

weekend tingz

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Morgan Reilly -

Story of Another Us - M.R (Morgan Reilly)

"I got a long term plan with short term fixes..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Joseph Woll -

merch plug

mrs woll

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Florida Panthers :

Matthew Tkachuk -

Jet Black Heart - M.T (Matthew Tkachuk)

"Everybody's got their demons ; even wide awake or dreaming..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Brandon Montour -

vamos gatos

WRITTEN -

Best Years - B.M (Brandon Montour)

"I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you ; gave you a million reasons to walk away..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

UMich

Rutger McGroarty -

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Luca Fantilli -

#1 fan

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Ethan Edwards -

lovers

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬Mark Estapa -

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

ALL UMICH BOYS -

favorite non player

umich dump

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Boston College

Jacob Fowler -

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Will Smith -

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Gabe Perreault -

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Ryan Lenoard -

beach trip

English Love Affair - R.L (Ryan Leonard)

"Today, I'm 7,000 miles away, the picture burning in my brain ; kissing in the rain..."

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Extra Players

Trevor Zegras -

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Tyler Seguin -

Lover of Mine - T.S (Tyler Seguin)

“When I take a look at my life and all of ny crimes, you’re the only thing that I think I got right”

🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬🪬

Matt Rempe -

summer lovin

my power ranger

WRITTEN -

The Only Reason - M.R (Matt Rempe)

"Don't talk ;

Let me think it over..."

TO BE ADDED TO MY TAG LIST DM ME :D

[anistarrose]

So the thing is, if people ship characters who are explicitly not into romance (whether aromantic or otherwise), that ultimately doesn't affect me on a level beyond "annoyance" — I can blacklist tags, and blacklist or block people who don't tag it. What I have to ask myself every time I see these things, however, is this:

"Does this reflect how this person feels about romance-averse people in real life? Does this reflect how this person treats romance-averse people in real life?"

Because how someone engages with fiction doesn't have to be a reflection of how they treat real people, obviously — and in this case, I would of course hope that it isn't. But if you know anything about what being aromantic is like, in real life or on the Internet... you'll understand why I'm not optimistic.

Thinking two characters are so cute together that you reject a bunch of their characterization to make it happen is just annoying, not a crime! But the second you make the leap to telling a real human person things like:

"I don't care how much you say you're not interested, because you just won't realize that you and X would make such a cute couple,"

or:

"I don't care how much you say you're not interested, because you're clearly just in denial which the Right Person has to come along and fix,"

or:

"But — but — but not falling in love is just so tragic! I want you to be happy, not sad and lonely your whole life!"

like the rationales that apparently motivate so many people to ship? Then that has crossed the line into harming real people.

I don't actually think that shipping aromantic characters is the primary cause in the cause-effect diagram, when it comes to the correlating the shipping with "likelihood to say these terrible, invalidating, autonomy-undermining things to real people." Precisely, I don't think it's a cause to a meaningful degree when you compare with the opposite direction — I think people who say these things to real aromantics (or anyone else who just isn't interested!), because of what they think about these real people, are in turn more likely to think amatonormative things about fictional characters. I think that there exists a feedback loop to some extent, because fiction can influence people's beliefs to some degree, but it's not symmetric. Real-life amatonormativity causes mass amatonormativity in fandom spaces.

So... at this point, do you see why aromantic people in fandom get a little defensive about aro characters, and about other characters who overlap with aro experiences? You see why we get kind of pissy when people very selectively throw a very specific part of their characterization out the window? You see why we maybe don't want to associate with those people? Why it makes us so uncomfortable?

"Stop shipping romance-repulsed characters," in my opinion, is a understandable outcry from the community that I obviously sympathize with — but it nevertheless conceals the core of the issue, especially from non-aromantics who aren't living with amatonormativity shoved down their throats at all times, and therefore might not be able to read between the lines. At the core, this isn't actually a debate about the morality of shipping in fiction, despite overlap with that discourse on the surface.

The real cry for change isn't "stop shipping that character." It's "start accepting me for who I am, without trying to either undermine or mourn it at every opportunity." Because at the moment, the overlap between people who erase fictional aromanticism and real aromanticism is significant — and even where they don't overlap, you know what? Romance-averse folks just trying to live in peace can't fucking tell the difference.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eeeeee! Congratulations! You deserve every single one! 🖤

Could I pretty please request:

Am I supposed to be scared now? In a Mafia AU. Vibes and item I'll leave up to your enormous, genius brain.

🖤🖤🖤

Thank you so much, Sam! 💖✨️ Hope you enjoy!

Worth the risk

Rated: E

Words: 992

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Dark Eddie Munson; Mob boss Richard Harrington; Secret relationship; intrigue; Referenced character death (RIP Tommy); Blood and violence; Knife play; Blood play; Groping; Dry humping

Nobody says anything as they make their way out of the Harrington villa, but by some unspoken agreement, they don't part ways yet. They linger in the driveway by the cars. 

Eddie knows better than to speak first. Instead, he lights a cigarette and lets the silence drag on, pretending to be brooding over the night’s events. He knows that somebody is bound to say something sooner rather than later. 

It’s Jeff who does, in the end. 

“Harrington’s losing it.” 

Gareth jumps and casts anxious glances all around himself, like he’s expecting to find the boss lurking somewhere in the shadows, while Frank shushes Jeff with a hectic gesture. 

“Shut up, are you insane?” 

Jeff shrugs petulantly, but he does lower his voice. “I'm just saying what everyone is thinking. That thing with Hagan? That was completely fucking bonkers, sending him to make that deal with the Carvers all alone. It’s almost like he wanted him to end up with a bullet through his head.” 

“Maybe he did,” Gareth says. “Rumor has it Hagan’s been making eyes at the son.” 

Eddie nods along solemnly with the rest of them. 

“All I’m saying is, it’s bad news,” Jeff mumbles. “He believes he’s invincible, that he can get away with anything. It’s dangerous for a man in his position to think like that.” 

“Then maybe he shouldn’t be.” Eddie lets the words linger, waiting until every single face is turned to him. “Be in that position, I mean.” 

Frank scoffs. “Yeah, right. Who’d even wanna do it instead? Junior seems much more interested in lounging by the pool and taking it up the-” 

“Nah,” Eddie is quick to deflect. “We’d need someone capable. Somebody younger, who knows how things work on the street.” 

“Someone like you?” 

“I wouldn’t know about that, Gare,” Eddie lies. “Just putting in my two cents on the matter.” 

Behind the garden wall, a light flickers alive, then dies again, quick as a heartbeat. Eddie grinds his cigarette under the heel of his boot. 

“Shit, just remembered I forgot something. Don’t wait for me, guys.” 

He feels their gazes on his neck as he walks back towards the house and doesn't bother hiding his grin. 

*

The hydrangeas are long past their bloom, decaying flower petals rustling under his feet. He doesn't lament their death, not when he knows that the seeds of something else are slowly taking root. 

The underwater lights of the pool bask the garden in an eerie glow, but he makes his way to the pool house unbothered. He has hardly ducked inside when a key clicks in the lock behind him. 

Eddie’s body moves on instinct and muscle memory. The key clatters off somewhere in the darkness,  and when the crimson veil lifts from his eyes, he has a warm body pressed against the wall, the edge of his knife licking at a shivering throat. A throat covered in the fading marks of his own teeth. 

“Damn, Stevie,” he hisses, retracting the blade and sliding it back into its holster. It leaves the faintest of cuts, tiny droplets of blood gathering against tan skin like dark beads. “Are you out of your mind? You can't just sneak up on people like that.” 

Steve scowls at him, face full of haughty disdain. He's beautiful in the glow of the pool seeping in from outside. He's always beautiful, of course, but something about the pale blue light rippling off his skin makes him look ethereal and downright unreal. Like an ancient deity, like a marble statue come alive.

“Excuse me?” he whispers, wriggling in Eddie’s hold. “What was I supposed to do? Nobody tells me shit, and then I overhear my dad talking on the phone about how one of his guys was killed. I just wanted-” 

“Aw,” Eddie coos. He leans into Steve’s space, scraping a toothy grin against the hollow of that pretty throat. His lips come away tasting like copper, leaving a bloody trail on Steve's skin. “Are you worried about me, honey? Why, I'm honored.” 

Steve pushes his head away with one palm against his cheek, but makes no further attempt at twisting out of his grip. 

“This isn't a fucking joke, Eddie. If my dad finds out about this, you'll be next in line for a bullet through the- Will you stop this?” 

Eddie lets Steve's thumb slide out of his mouth with an obscene, wet sound, nipping at the tender skin at its base as he goes. 

“Am I supposed to be scared now?” he drawls. “I'm not an idiot, I can look after myself.” 

“I know you can,” Steve confesses, tracing Eddie’s cheekbone with his thumb. It's still wet with his own spit, and the touch leaves a thin trail of moisture, cool in the stuffy air of the pool house. “But sometimes, I don't think you understand how dangerous this is.” 

“Believe me, darling, I’m well aware of the danger.” Eddie trails a hand over Steve’s throat, down his chest. The motion makes a drop of blood run from his neck into the collar of his shirt. He watches how it blooms on the white fabric, pretty like a flower, as he slips his hand between Steve's legs. “Good thing we both like it a little, dangerous, right?”

He gives the bulge in Steve’s pants a firm squeeze, and as always, the boy responds like the beautiful, needy little dream that he is. He rolls his hips, grinding himself into the touch, and wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck to slot their bodies closer together. Eddie bites down on that perfect, pink bottom lip and laughs against it when Steve moans. 

“Woah, honey! What happened to being careful?”

“What's life without a little risk?” Steve smiles, looking at him from under his long lashes. “And besides, you made me drop the key, so one of us will end up on his knees anyhow.” 

Eddie finds he can't argue with that.

[hippolotamus]

Truth or Dare tag game

Thanks for the tags @underwaterninja13 @tizniz @dangerpronebuddie @kitteneddiediaz @spotsandsocks 💖

Which friends/mutuals would you call to hide a body?

@blackandwhiteandrose @stereopticons @giddyupbuck @watchyourbuck

How many user subscriptions do you have on Ao3?

122 (☺️ thank you)

Do you have a crush on someone? OR If you're with someone, tell us one thing you love about them.

Always saves me the last bite of something delicious

What does the last DM/text you sent say?

I'm so so curious

List the three friends/mutuals with the best takes

always enjoy @gayhoediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz and am continually impressed, bewitched and bewildered by my wife @bidisasterevankinard

also @steadfastsaturnsrings @spotsandsocks

@daffi-990 absolute queen of sending hilarious gifs and jokes/puns

Share one of your favorite fics of all time

One??? Really??? Rude. I have so many, I'm going to list some underrated favs

i wouldn't call it a mission by ASweeterArrangement (I’m sorry I don’t know their current tumblr)

Spanish Lullaby by blackandwhiteandrose

Play me like a fiddle by JamesPearce911/ @diazsdimples

twist yourself around me by @stereopticons (Schitt's Creek)

red life might stream again by Underhung_Aura / @eddiebabygirldiaz

saving you, saves me. by @tizniz

in my head by @your-catfish-friend

Our Love is Like a Storybook Story (But it's as real as the feelings I feel) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog/ @bi-buckrights

[WIP] Three Taps for the Lombardi by Wildgirl93/ @wildlife4life

List three of your favorite content creators

I already know I'm forgetting people but...

Darling Talented Wife @lizzie-bennetdarcy her art and words are unparalleled

@loserdiaz another incredible artist

@loveyouanyway @giddyupbuck @theotherbuckley @djdangerlove your edits are phenomenal

@bucksketch @skyhighrollins911 @nymika-arts I’m in constant awe of their work

Write one thing you love about yourself

My dark, sarcastic sense of humor

Which fandom of yours (past or present) has the best fics?

Don’t get me wrong, 9-1-1 has great fics, but damn the Schitt’s Creek fandom has some of the most outstanding works. Like... dude.

Which creation of your own are you the most proud of?

This Lucy Donato artwork

I'm preemptively naming one of my WIPs, you're where I wanna go as a thing I'm most proud of because, even though the words don't happen nearly as frequently as I'd like, it is the most precious and special to me.

Have you ever read RPF?

And written

Tag the mutual(s)/friend(s) most likely to get away with murder

@blackandwhiteandrose @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

Tag the mutual(s)/friend(s) who know(s) the most about you

@blackandwhiteandrose @stereopticons (are we sensing a theme yet?) @diazsdimples @vanillahigh00

Now tag some friends to play!

@stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz mi amor @bidisasterevankinard

@elvensorceress @bi-buckrights @loveyouanyway @hoodie-buck @wikiangela

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @giddyupbuck @daffi-990 @vanillahigh00 @bucksbiawakening

@filet-o-feelings @lemonzestywrites @theotherbuckley @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes

@welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[illarian-rambling]

Hello my coolest of mutuals! In honor of pride month, I need your help figuring something out. I've got a good lock on most of my characters sexualities, even if I don't tend to write much romance. However, there's one exception to that: Ivander. I have no clue what his sexuality is, and even if it has no bearing on his story arc, I'd like your help to finally figure it out.

I'll tag all my MG beta readers here, as you guys probably know him the best: @tildeathiwillwrite @mk-writes-stuff @halfbakedspuds @kaylinalexanderbooks

Here's his deal for anyone else who wants to assist.

Ivander has flirted with a woman once on-page. Did he mean it? I'm not sure, but it didn't go anywhere. His curse and self-consciousness have kept him from getting close to anyone romantically for years. He was raised in an overwhelmingly heteronormative environment, where his duty was to marry a wealthy woman and provide an heir - love not playing any role in such things. The only relationship he ever had as an example after his mother disappeared was his uncle and aunt. They were an arranged pair who didn't share any love, but were friendly with each other. After he escaped his family and before his curse got too bad, I think he would've pursued relationships with women because that's what he assumed he'd like, but he also probably had at least one half-recalled fling with a man that he has some confused feelings over. Once his curse did get bad though, he kept himself from getting close with just about anybody, refusing to so much as entertain the idea of a sexual or romantic relationship. He hopes that once his curse is broken, he'll be free to pursue these relationships, but it's not like he has a crush on anyone he's waiting to ask out. The only person he's close to currently is his detective partner, Ceyrel.

Is he a confused aromantic who hasn't realized that there are different kinds of relationships that can fill the loneliness in his life? Was he too saturated with heteronormative ideals as a kid and too antisocial now to know he's gay? Is he demi and are those platonic feelings for Ceyrel romantic instead? I have no idea and it plays absolutely no role in his arc, but I still should probably know as the author, even if he as the character doesn't.

I'll include my general taglist too for your help as well: @amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

@goldxdarkness @the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling

@watermeezer @leahnardo-da-veggie @mr-orion @televisionjester @the-ellia-west

@ray-writes-n-shit

Have a bitchin day!

[hyperfixation-symposium]

Hey all, sorry for the delay in my overly sappy end of QSMP post but I've been so so busy and unable to work on it! (I will also be getting you all in the tag games soon, watch out >:) )

This project has made a huge impact on my life in many ways. I originally made this account because I was dealing with a lot of anxiety around being publicly in this fandom, but I've grown so much and I'm so lucky to have met so many amazing people.

This project allowed me to meet people from all over, expanding my community and understanding of other cultures in a way I couldn't have dreamed of before. I'm learning a second language seriously for the first time, with the help of those I love. I grew and learned a lot about myself and, sometimes, what the Internet had in communities I didn't even know existed.

Though the qsmp is over, and I will probably slow down on this blog, I never want to lose the connections I made. plus, who knows what the newest hyperfixation will bring?

Genuinely, though, this wouldn't have been nearly as incredible of an experience without qsmpblr being there through every bump in the road. For updates, for encouraging words, for.. everything. Thank you all.

Okay before I get too caught up in my own sappiness- special thanks below the cut!

Love to my fellow co-parents and egg children admins @shadowfloofster @angel-astre @qsmp-a1-updates @justpuppi @eyesofcrows @froggiest-multifanboy @finleyisgayforreal and everyone else I don't have the tag for. I don't have words for how much this silly server and all of you in it mean to me :)

To @Ridd for being such a cool friend the entire time (I can't find your Tumblr acc if you see this I'm hunting you for sport)

@heartkade I'll forever miss your theories and running back and forth in the tags

@zerosalt LITERALLY THE COOLEST EVER WHAT

@kays-artstuff Talking to you and seeing your art always did and always does make my day

@q-starhalo Holds the most correct opinions ever and I will not take criticism

@6flyingosprey6 MOST UNDERRATED QSMPBLR PERSON EVER

@iminyourbookshelf @lacavedalex @the-crimson @pokidragon @cosmic-d1ce @whoturnedgravityoff and else who made this experience so special

@tubborucho for always having correct opinions on everything

@soratsuart of course, for getting me into the server and @rannlwitch for all the amazing conversations we've had and your awesome storytelling in RLSMP

I'm very tired and I'm sure I forgot a million names but don't be afraid to reach out!!! I love you all, thank you for taking this journey with me.

This is not a goodbye, per say. A see you later seems more accurate :)

But for now,

Boa Notie, Buenas Noches, and Goodnight qsmpblr. Love you all

(I hope this is comprehendible I'm so tired)

[m3r1m4r5u333]

My thoughts of the episode!

I think Chris staying with his grandparents could ultimately be good for Eddie. Even though the circumstances obviously suck, Eddie really could use some time for himself, to become his own person.

Eddie's tendency to push aside his own dreams and feelings is really a flaw of his. Eddie self-sacrifices bad enough to create these ticking time bombs where he just keeps pushing himself aside and bottling everything up, until comes the day when he breaks apart and ends up hurting others, too.

Living with his grandparents could be good for Chris too actually, he has so much family he doesn't really know at all.

Also!

Bringing Gerrard back will be interesting. Eddie will really be tested as an "ally", I think. He may be used to that military mode of "shut up and follow commands" but these are his friends that are facing this shit storm.

And maybe that is how Eddie finds his courage to talk about some stuff he has become used to hiding about himself, too. After all, I think Eddie has been written way to queer-coded to actually be straight.

And maybe this is an unpopular opinion but I don't care - I think storylines like these, ugly ones, focusing on racism, homophobia, bi phobia, misogyny.. are important. Censuring real life problems isn't educational. Censure is just erasure. Censure is silence.

...

What else?

Oh yes, that shoulder touch and Buck's thumb on Eddie, I am a wreck.

Oh and lol, I will definitely be blocking lots and lots and lots of people after this episode. As it happens, daddy kink is not my kink, and no, this isn't brand new information, this is me, knowing myself after years and years of different fandoms. I am btw, in general, super kinky, and into lots of bizarre stuff.

Daddy kink, however...? It's one of the few tags I actually actively filter when I search for fic. Has been for years. The ship is irrelevant, I just can't deal with daddy kink. No. I read it way too literally to have any fun with it.

Yeah. So since Tommy and Buck are now basically the daddy kink ship, practically sailing under that figurehead, and this fandom is bound to be filled with daddy kink content, I know I will be blocking people and filtering tags left and right, because yep. That's really not my thing. Not in this lifetime.

Oh and. Not much to say about Bobby (kinda expected miraculous recovery anyway. I actually hope there will be some issues not yet discovered because otherwise what's the point of this storyline? Please be hiding amnesia or something?)

And Henren, Mara, Denny, Chimney and Maddie HAN... (Yes thank you! Such a relief to know how to tag!) welp... Wholesomeness is one of my favorite flavors so 💕

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

What do y'all think of the idea that Adler is going to be a double agent in Black Ops 6? I've seen a lot of YouTubers claim that the "mole" that's being referred to in some of the Easter eggs is going to be Adler because of his brainwashing at the hands of Stitch.

I don't really buy this theory tho and I'm a little confused as to why people keep hopping on it when there's not a lot of proof for it, besides Adler looking "suspicious" in that new image😂

If anything, I think Adler will help the player character find the mole. I think my man is too loyal to the CIA and the US to be a double agent of any kind, even with the brainwashing that he went through. Plus, after being brainwashed, he kind of rebelled against Stitch so I can't see him supporting anyone but the US.

He's definitely hiding things tho; what CIA agent isn't? Do you think they'll follow a storyline similar to the CoD comics?

Let me know what y'all think @alypink @welldonekhushi @efingart @mctvsh @adlerboi

@walder-138 @imagoddamnonionmason and anyone else who has any thoughts! No pressure to those tagged, I'm just curious❤️

[greetingfromthedead]

Five Hugs (Vash x GN!Reader)

Plot: Five occasions, worthy of a hug. (5 drabbles)

Series: A Set of Five [more coming soon]

Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader

Raiting: Everyone

Tags: fluff, no use of "y/n", a touch of angst, cozy, cuddles, dancing, Vash being a hero as usual, affirmation, Vash just deserves a hug in general

Word count: 2k

Author's Note: I've been torturing Vash a lot lately so I decided to give him five hugs. Probably five kisses soon too and if there is something else you want to see, let me know.

You had to run again. Chased out of town for something as little as showing your face at the saloon. Or rather, it was Vash's face that sparked the whole ordeal. The bounty on his head doesn't make it easy to take life slowly and enjoy it. But you refuse to leave his side.

You slide down along the smooth surface of the rock. The suns beating down on you as you grip the water bottle tightly in your hand. Your heart beats ferociously in your throat, and you wait for it to calm down to take a sip. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your tomas rattling her gear.

"Well, where should we go now then?" Vash's calm voice asks, breaking the tension in the air.

You don't answer him, instead leaning your head back against the hard rock. The fear finally leaves your bones, as you know you are far enough away from the town to be safe. It still stings to be treated this way, to constantly have to be on edge and alert.

"We could head more east; we should come across a small village before nightfall. Maybe we can camp in someone's attic. Hopefully we can stock up on water too." He sounds so lighthearted and carefree as he starts formulating a plan in his head.

You watch him with curiosity after drinking from your flask. He turns his head from side to side while looking into the distance before taking off his glasses and inspecting them. He seems to find a spot on them as he grabs the lower edge of his black turtleneck. He pulls it up to rub the lenses with it. The small action reveals a bit of his scarred skin on his stomach, which he usually carefully hides under fabric. This simple act reminds you just how much he trusts you. He wouldn't willingly show his old wounds to just anyone.

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly, but just enough for him to hear you.

"Mh?? Ah, yeah, I am fine." Vash straightens his shirt again and puts the glasses back on. "Eehh, I don't really care if they chase me and try to capture me for the bounty. They have their own problems, and I'm sure that money would help them. I'm just worried I will drag you into the crossfire."

You noticed the change in his carefree tone towards the end. He does worry about you a lot. Despite what he says, you know that the truth is a whole lot more complicated. He holds no grudges against anyone, but you doubt that he doesn't care. A man who loves humanity so deeply is bound to have his heart broken when he is forced away from what he holds so dear. You can see the pain in his eyes, despite his attempts to hide it.

Words don't come easy in this situation. What could you even say to that? Instead, you push yourself up again, slide the flask into the saddlebag, and walk up to Vash. You glance at his curious eyes, but you can't force your gaze to stay on them. You approach him decisively and only stop once your arms wrap around his torso. The moment your head rests against his chest, you squeeze him tighter.

He stands there with surprise for a moment before putting his arms around you too, his gaze softening as he holds you close. You don't say anything; instead, you just bury your face in his black shirt and hug him as tight as you can. He has been through so much in his long life, and you can't change the past. You are powerless against the present, and perhaps there is nothing you can do about the future. All you can do is hold him close and show him that you care. That you believe in him.

"Thank you." Vash speaks softly, his large hand stroking your head.

A loud bang echoes through the town square just as the grip of your captor loosens around your neck. A collective gasp echoes through the crowd of onlookers, and you push yourself free, running towards the source of the noise.

"Son of a…!" The enraged voice of the bandit leader calls out, but you keep sprinting without looking back. You hear the slightest thump behind you as his gun hits the ground, but you don't care anymore. It's like you can still feel the barrel pressed against your temple, the tears of fear turning into ones of relief in your eyes.

You jump into Vash's arms, knowing that you are finally safe. He catches you with his left arm, the prosthesis wrapping tightly around your back as your feet lift off the ground. His right hand still holds his gun, ready to take another shot as needed. You bury your face in his shoulder, feeling grateful and protected. He turns his whole body and sets you back on the ground, positioning himself between you and the bandit that held you captive. You hear him whisper, "I've got you now."

Even as your grasp on him loosens, his stays firmly around your shoulders, pressing you more into him. He's not letting go. Your vision is obscured by his large coat, and you don't see as the large man is being cuffed and dragged away by the others. Only then dares Vash to put away his weapon into its holster and release his tight grip on you. He grabs your upper arms and leans back as he looks you over.

"Are you alright?" he asks with a tremor in his voice. He notices the redness on your throat, and his fingers gently touch the bruising skin. "I am so sorry!"

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" you say frantically as you nod, your breath escaping you in short gasps.

"Thank goodness!" he exclaims, relief washing over him. He grabs you into a tight hug again, his cheek pressing against the top of your head.

"Would you do me the honor of joining me for a dance?" Vash says with a crooked smile as he offers you his hand. You blush a bit at his public tomfoolery and down the rest of your drink before leaving the empty glass at the bar. You take his hand with a smile.

"Gladly," you reply softly as his fingers grip yours. You feel a rush of excitement as he leads you onto the dance floor. The saloon is filled with lively music and people dancing to the beat. The liquid courage definitely helps you in this situation and gives you the confidence to let go and enjoy the moment. Vash's hands rest on your hips, and yours find his shoulders. A goofy smile is plastered on his face as he starts to lead you in a twirl. He does not mind that he occasionally bumps into someone else or that a few people start laughing at his exaggerated style. He is just too excited to have you in his arms, dancing with him. Their laughter is drowned out by the music and the joy in his heart. The giggle that escapes you as he sweeps you around only encourages him further, making him take longer steps and turn you faster. He chuckles at your expression, and one dance turns into many.

You have no hope of keeping up with his long strides, and as you get more and more tired, you end up stumbling over them a few times. His arms keep you steady, and your clumsiness only makes his smile wider. The looks of others do not matter; all you see is Vash's enchanting face, and all he sees is you. In that moment, you realize that you are exactly where you are meant to be, no matter how ridiculous you might feel.

As you gaze into his eyes, your foot gets stuck behind his again, but instead of just keeping you steady, Vash pulls you up and wraps his arms around you, right under your butt, to keep your feet off the ground. You grab him into a hug, giggling by his ear as you hold on to him. Vash twirls you about and continues to dance around the room as you embrace each other.

Vash lays halfway on top of you, his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped around you. It is a peaceful night as you've settled into an abandoned house in an empty village. The room is dusty, but it is cozy and filled with a sense of safety and warmth. Your fingers brush through his hair as you listen to the sound of his steady breathing. You know he isn't asleep yet, but there is no need to fill the quiet of twilight with words. You both find refuge in the peaceful silence that envelops you.

Vash is curled up against you, his legs somewhat entangled with yours. The tall and surprisingly burly man seems almost tiny as he enjoys your touch, your other hand resting on his back. He takes comfort from your heartbeats under his ear and the feeling of your touch. Anywhere is home if you're by his side. Your hug is all he needs to feel safe; your love gives him the strength to face anything.

You let your nails run over his scalp, and you feel a slight shudder move through him, a little moan escaping his lips, a sign of pure contentment. You wish you could wrap him up more, keep him even closer, and protect him like he protects you. You want to keep him in your heart, protected from all harm. But the best you can do is this. Having him hold on to you, your arms around him, as he snuggles close all night, or at least until you need to settle into a position more suitable for sleeping the night away, but even then, he enjoys your cuddles and doesn't want to let go.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask as you look up at him, pain reflecting on your face.

"Yes. I have to. I am the only one who can put an end to this," he says, but his eyes are down turned and mournful.

"Then let me come with you!" you insist, grabbing hold of his right sleeve.

"Please…" he says with a sigh, his tone pleading, "I need you to evacuate as many people as you can, even if it is only yourself."

You look at him dumbfounded and then turn your head to look at the streets of July. The town is massive; how can he expect you to make any difference here in getting people out? Wouldn't you be better off with him, trying to prevent the thing that could put people in danger?

"I need you to be safe," he murmurs, his voice full of concern as he takes your hand into his, squeezing your fingers gently. You can feel his worry radiating off of him. He has so much on his mind; you know he doesn't want to be worrying over you too. He wanted to leave you at Home, but you refused. You need him on his A-game for this, you have realized just how dangerous the situation really is.

"That goes for you too!" You press, "You have to come back to me! You understand? You have to! So promise me!"

"I promise, I will come back to you!" He says resolutely and releases your hand, instead pulling you into a hug, and you melt into his embrace, your arms securely around him.

"Can we wrap this up already?" the dark haired man asks, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Vash holds you tight for a moment longer, ignoring Wolfwood as he leans closer to your ear.

"I love you," he whispers, his breath tingling your skin.

He lets go, and you take a step back, looking at him with determination. You will both get out of this alive.

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[furiosophie]