#i also want some flannel pajama pants... the dream

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x reader, maybe they're best friends and have feelings for each other but they don't confess their feelings. Christmas is near, so reader wants to take to opportunity and make a move, maybe she wears cute but sexy clothes and Eddie's in awe, and when they want to exchange presents reader's like I'm your present or smth like that (basically idiots in love, fluff to smut? Please!!)

Merry Christmas season! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3 🎄

His gift

Y/N kept her feelings for Eddie hidden for years. It seemed like there was never a moment where she could tell if Eddie felt the same. She was scared to lose him and wanted the reassurance that he felt the same. But he was impossible to read. He only got excited about music and his campaign. Those were the only two things she could tell he loved.

The Christmas season was bittersweet. She loved the lights, the activities, the music, and the traditions. But she couldn't help but hate how romantic it was. She imagined Eddie and her in every couple that she walked across. She rolled her eyes at the couples skating together and cuddled close to the fire. She wanted that and she wanted it with Eddie.

Eddie was used to girls not looking in his direction and he was used to liking girls way out of his league. When he realized he was in love with his best friend, he knew it would never work. She was too good for him and she would never settle down with a lowlife. She wanted the big house and all the kids. He'd never be that guy who can give that. So he figured he'd never try, that way he'd never get hurt.

Y/N was too scared to admit how she felt until she was seconds away from losing him.

Last night, his band performed in some tiny towns a few miles out. As always, she joined the band to support. But she also got a front row to her nightmares. A tall blonde flirting her way into Eddie's mouth. She felt so much relief when Eddie pushed her aside, but what if he did kiss her? Would he have fallen in love with her? Y/N barely dodged the bullet.

Eddie was already coming over to exchange Christmas gifts, and she decided tonight was the night. She wasn't coming close to losing him again without a fight.

She knew she was testing the waters. She thought of sitting him down and telling him how she felt, but Eddie wasn't good with feelings. He always loved to perform his thoughts and feelings, she was going to do the same. She was going to show her feelings for him in a way he'd understand.

And a way he couldn't ignore.

~~~

She paced in her empty house while she waited for him to arrive. She had the house to herself for the weekend and Eddie offered to stay. She just hoped she wouldn't run him out the door.

He arrived with gifts in one hand and his sleepover bag in the other. A bright smile on his face and a silly Santa hat.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" he cheered, Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at the cheeriness he brought. How could she not fall in love with him?

He sat on her couch, the hat on his head as he held the gift in his lap. He eyed the shortness of her robe as she walked over. He was happy her gift was in his lap and hiding his obvious hardness.

He gulped as she grabbed the gift off his lap, a tiny smirk on her face as she saw the tent in his flannel pajama pants.

"Mr. Claus, I have a fear I'm on the naughty list." She said, planting herself slowly on his lap. She flicked the tiny puff ball at the end of his hat. The awe on Eddie's face caused her to giggle. But then she quickly tried to recover. But Eddie couldn't stop the smile that stretched on his lips.

"And why's that?" He asked, playing along as he slowly rubbed her thighs. His heart was racing and his palms were sweaty. He almost felt like he was having a wet dream and would wake up with a wet spot in his boxers.

But she didn't answer, she looked deep into his eyes as she undid her robe. The material fell off her shoulders and landed softly on the floor. Her hands yanked off his hat.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie said in awe, his voice hidden in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow his spit to get rid of the dryness in his throat. He looked into her eyes before trailing down. His eyes took in her breasts which popped out perfectly in the red bra she wore. Small white fluff material trailed over the top, matching how a Santa suit would look. Underneath the bra, slightly above her stomach was a bow that wrapped all around her. Eddie wanted to yank on it with his teeth and watch her unwrap. Her panties matched the bra.

"Nope, definitely the good list in Mr. Claus book," Eddie said, his heart skipped a few beats as she laughed.

"Shh! You're ruining my material!" She teased, she worried that the whole Christmas gimmick would be mocked. But she couldn't help but love that he was having fun with it. That it wasn't all serious, and they could laugh and smile in the middle of it all.

"Sorry!" Eddie apologized, his hands moving up to her hips. Slowly moving her body against his. He sighed in relief as her body rubbed against his cock inside his pajamas.

"What's the next line?" He choked out, he continued to move her hips, her body following along as she moved on his lap.

"How can I get myself on the good list?" She pouted out her lip and Eddie swore he was that close to creaming his pants.

"I've got many ideas," Eddie whined, his head thrown back as she moved her hips faster. Her lips attach to his neck. Her soft lips marked his neck as she trailed up to his jaw.

As she moved closer to his lips, he moved his head back to its original position. Both stared at each other as her hips froze. She flicked her eyes down to his lips. Her plan was working, but she was terrified to seal the deal. His lips were right there.

But Eddie didn't give her the choice. His hand grabbed the back of her head and brought her lips to his. She moaned the second she felt his lips against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he wrapped his free arm around her waist. His lips were still attached to hers as he turned them around. Her back was against the couch as he settled on top of her.

He moved his hand that was on her head to hold himself up, making sure not to crush her. Not that she'd notice, she was locked in on his lips and how amazing they felt.

Once they needed air, they pulled away. Eddie panted above her, he felt electricity in his fingertips and his whole body buzzed.

"I've always wanted to do that." Eddie said, a smile on his face.

Y/N tried to say something but her brain melted. She was in awe of the way he looked so handsome on top of her. His lips were red and used. Because of her.

"Mhhm too." She said, her eyes were heavy with lust as she watched him. Eddie backed up a bit, his torso coming into view as he took off his shirt. Y/N felt herself clench her thighs, embarrassment traveling through her body when she realized his knee was between them. A huge smirk on his face as he felt her thighs squeeze his knee.

"May I?" He asked, his fingertips touched the top of her panties. His touch left goosebumps on her skin.

"Please." She whined, her head spinning as he slowly trailed her panties down her legs, throwing them to the floor. He quickly yanked off his pants, he didn't bother to take off his boxers, just taking his cock out.

"Condom?" He panted, his hand slowly pumped himself and Y/N couldn't help but whine at the sight. But she planned for this so she reached behind her, yanking the condom out of the couch cushions. Eddie laughed as she proudly handed it over.

"Planned it all, huh?" He teased, he placed the condom on, hissing as his cock twitched.

"Your present after all. I needed all the materials." She shrugged.

Eddie looked down at her thoughtfully as he pushed her thighs apart.

"Ready?" He asked, his tip slowly rubbing against her clit. He watched as her body twitched and her breathing picked up.

"Since like freshmen year." She admitted no time to be embarrassed to admit it. She wanted him and she got him.

But Eddie didn't judge, his dirty mind thought of her this way at the grade of seventh.

He leaned down and placed his lips on hers. He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. Her hands gripped his biceps as he pushed himself further in. Her body clenched around him, he continued to kiss her lips. One hand on his cock to help push in and the other rubbed her hip. His thumb rubbed her skin softly. He felt her body relax, giving him the chance to push himself in.

She whined, her lips stopped moving as her body melted into the couch. He moved his lips away but kept his face close to hers. He watched every movement on her face as he thrust inside of her.

The way her eyes scrunched. The way her teeth bit down on her bottom lip. Her nails scratched his bicep as he sped up. She was a sight to see and he prayed no one saw her this way.

"Don't wanna kill the moment," Eddie said through harsh breaths, "but I'm so fucking close already." She felt amazing, looked amazing, smelled amazing and his body couldn't handle it long.

"Clit." She whined, she grabbed his hand, and moved it down to her cunt. Eddie took the hint, rubbing her clit in fast circles as he continued to thrust into her. Her breathing picked up and her moans got louder.

"Gonna!" Eddie warned, and seconds later his cum filled the condom. Y/N whined loudly as she felt the warmness of his cum inside of her. He tried to thrust throughout his orgasm, trying his best to keep thrusting for her pleasure but the sensitivity made him shiver.

"Please cum for me, gorgeous." He pleaded, his fingers still working on her clit as he slipped himself out of her. She whined at the loss of his cock but he was quick to replace it with his fingers.

His fingers worked inside of her, and his thumb rubbed her clit perfectly. He moved his head up to kiss her softly. His lips against hers as he whispered, "I love you"

She wasn't sure if it was the words alone, or the mix of it all together, but in seconds she felt her body snap, and a wonderful feeling washed over her body. Her body shook and her head flung back, Eddie's lips now on her neck.

"That's it, good fucking girl." He praised, his voice deep and low. She gasped as he worked her through her orgasm. It was the best thing she ever felt.

Once she softly smacked his hand, he pulled away. His eyes took in her cunt, the way it was soaked and pulsing.

He removed the condom, tying the top as he chucked it in the trash nearby. A mental note to throw out before her dad found it and murdered him.

He moved his eyes back to her, her eyes closed as tried to move. Eddie softly lay next to her, his arms wrapped around her.

"The best gift ever," Eddie said, a soft kiss on her shoulder as she giggled.

"I love you too." She said against his naked chest.

Y/N would like to see a girl try to hit on him now.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #eddie munson Christmas fic #eddie munson fluff x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst to fluff #Eddie munson fluffy smut #ashwhowrites #ashwhowrites Christmas

[sea-you-in-paradise]

☽ ⛧  a r m i n   a r l e r t ‘ s   s l e e p i n g   h a b i t s  ⛧ ☾

summary - a *painstaking* list of every (sfw :/) sleep-related armin thought

word count - 1.954

setting - canonverse implied, but can be applicable to modern au

features - armin :)))

genderneutral!reader (implied established relationship)

warnings - implied nsfw

note: here is a link to the nsfw part 2 (MDNI!)

before he goes to sleep, armin utilizes every waking minute to the fullest extent. 

- if he’s coming up with a plan of some sort, he will not sleep until he’s gone through every possible outcome he can think of

- spends time getting ahead of future work so he can never get behind

- sometimes he will get really lost in his books (obviously)

- most of the time, he pushes himself to stay awake far past the limit of what is considered “normal”

he’s trying to tire himself out enough to avoid nightmares

- he can go about 50 hours without napping, but tries to sleep before that (at least in small intervals) because he jokes that he can feel his brain cells dying. if he’s up for this long, it’s usually because he’s in the field/in charge of something that will effect a lot of people

- his naps are long enough to recharge a bit, but not normally long enough for more than 1 REM cycle

____________________

*however* when he actually sleeps (and i mean like a real sleep. all it takes is a semi-comfortable bed/couch and no responsibilities until 10:00 the next day), armin sleeps.

- the minute this man’s eyes shut for the evening, good luck getting them to open again. needless to say, he’s a heavy sleeper

- despite refusing to admit how tired he is while he’s awake, once he’s under a comforter it would take a fucking fire to get him to stand up again

- an unburdened armin needs a minimum of 10 hours, but ideally 15 (ofc, if he were to actually sleep that much more than twice a month, he would freak out and feel like he’s missing his life)

____________________

- he likes to wear either flannel or cotton pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, and he likes it when you borrow each other’s clothes to wear to bed, especially when you’re apart (either to wear or just to have for the smell lol)

- if you go to bed at the same time and you have some sort of skincare routine, he really likes to watch and learn about what all the products do. bonus points if you do his skincare too. sometimes he’d probably keep you company while you do this even if he’s not going to sleep yet

- he’s really meticulous about brushing his teeth for a long time (canonverse specific, iykyk ;-;)

- if it’s up to him, he prefers bedding he can sink into. cushy mattress and either a duvet or comforter with a really plush blanket in case he gets chilly (he will get chilly. he is always cold. he sleeps in socks)

- he likes a pretty firm pillow tho because neck support > sleeping on a cloud

- right side of the bed is his preference, but he would give it up in a heartbeat for you

- sleeping position varies. usually he sleeps on his side, but he also sleeps on his back sometimes bc he has back pain and he doesn’t want to strain it more :( 

- if he’s alone he sleeps facing towards the door bc he’s anxious. if you’re there, he likes it when you face each other or if one of you rests their head on the other’s chest

- if you move away from him, he will notice because he’ll get cold and he’ll move towards you again

- he doesn’t snore or breathe heavily, but he occasionally does the thing where he has little gasps or sharp inhales

____________________

- he does what he can to prevent dreaming, but it still happens sometimes

- if he has nightmares it usually comes with night sweats and crying in his sleep. he doesn’t move a lot tho and he doesn’t wake you up on purpose. when he wakes up, it’s not some big jolt. his eyes shoot open and he takes in his bearings before getting up to change his clothes and get some water. when he comes back, he’s careful to get into bed really softly and then he’ll hold you as you sleep. if you wake up, please hold him back and run your fingers through his hair :(

- his nightmares are usually anxiety/regret/remorse related. he’ll talk about them after they happen sometimes and cry a little bit if you’re awake and he feels like it, but he doesn’t like to talk about them in the morning

- most nights he’s too tired to dream tho, so it’s okay ;-; no it’s not, he just says that

____________________

- armin is not a morning person.

- as a matter of fact, if he gets less than his 10 hours, he is a certified grump. and he is so embarrassed about it

- he does everything he can to prevent it. like going to bed early if he can make himself or budgeting time into his schedule to stay in bed for longer, but he cannot stop the inevitable- if anyone, including you, tries to make him get up, he is a little bitch. 

____________________

the morning of a day off/day with few responsibilities might go something like this:

- armin goes through three stages once he’s been woken up: pouting, bargaining, and complete loss of filter. he will go through a version of these stages whether he is forcing himself to wake up, is woken up by a friend, or by you. as his partner, it’s usually you who is subject to this trio of events, even if you’re the gentlest, most loving person in the world

- if you must wake him up, he likes it when you stroke his arm/back and whisper softly. it takes some time, but he’ll eventually make a whiny noise and move around a little (if this isn’t your style, a more take-no-shit approach will be briefly detailed later)

- the pouting stage is exactly what it sounds like and it will be the shortest of the three. he’ll pull his covers a lot tighter and turn on his stomach so he can block the light easier and in the prettiest voice bc it’s all pouty, but also raspy from sleep, he’ll say something like, “baby, it’s so early, i don’t think it’s time yet.”

- then, when he’s more aware of the situation, he’ll turn to you and choose one of three options: a) he’ll ask for ten more minutes and promise not to complain when you wake him up again (lies). b) he’ll ask you for cuddles until he’s more awake. if you agree, it absolutely will not wake him up more, he will drift off again even if you’re talking to him. if you agree and you don’t have anything super important going on soon, he will try to make you fall back asleep too so he has an even better excuse for not showing up. c) he will attempt to seduce you. this sometimes follows option b (see note above for link to the nsfw hcs for more on this one)

- if you survive the bargaining stage and armin realizes that you’re not giving up, he will put on his grump face. it’s a cross between a pout and a glare, and it is rather amusing

- BUT unless you want him to be mean (and not in a fun hot way), do not make fun of him for the face. if you do, you’re going to realize that armin’s observation skills really do come in clutch and you’re going to start wondering about all of the things you do around him without noticing

- it would be like : “it’s so funny when you make that face” and then he fake smiles and in a totally innocent voice says something like, “aww, i’m sure it’s not as funny as you having broccoli in your teeth at dinner last night! It was in there like all night. sorry i didn’t tell you, it was just so funny.”

- he definitely apologizes for this later and most of the time assures you that he wasn’t being serious, but sometimes he is being serious. and the worst part is that you’ll never know all the embarrassing things he’s noticed you doing that he just doesn’t say anything about

- if you don’t make fun of the face though, you will stumble across a prime opportunity

- as someone who likes to lie in bed for a bit (forever) after waking up, armin will probably fall back asleep if he’s not doing something. so what better way to make sure he wakes up than to gossip with him?! with no filter, armin will say what he is honestly thinking about the people around him, and more often than not, he has some strong opinions

- tbh it’s just shit talking floch most of the time and he tells you what he finds annoying about everyone in the friend group (jean gets on his nerves the most)

____________________

- if you’re the kind of person who will not baby him, mad respect to you. it would go more like this

- if you wake him up abruptly, he will be very surprised every single time. normally, he would find you’re assertive tendencies hot. this is not one of those times. assuming you leave immediately after waking him, armin will run through his stages on his own. he will fall asleep in either the pouting or bargaining stage. then stage 3 will be taken out on you when he finally pulls himself out of bed. he will go find you and be snarky, no gossiping, only sass. it is unbecoming, but also hilarious

____________________

- regardless of how things play out, when armin finally “gains consciousness,” he is usually a bit mortified. he knows it was so nice of you to wake him up and he feels so bad for being grumpy (and for being so candid about his thoughts on Jean’s unrequited love), but his brain is always working overtime and sometimes there are some really positive benefits to his morning alter ego. the selfish parts of him don’t really feel like giving it up, especially if you don’t mind. that being said, he only apologizes for behavior he intends to change, so if this sort of morning routine is okay with you, he doesn’t really have anything to say sorry for. he’s so grateful that you have so much patience and love for him and he’s glad that there’s someone who is willing to help him stay punctual <333

____________________

- once in a blue moon on these days off, armin wakes up before you (he’s well rested sometimes???) and if that happens he will move closer to you and wrap his arms around you

- if you have long enough hair he will brush it off your forehead. tuck it behind your ears, fix your bonnet, move your braid(s)/ponytail to a more comfy position (etc). he just likes being tentative 

- MORNING FOREHEAD KISSES AJDFADJFLDFEW

- even if he is awake, he will do everything in his power to stay in bed with you for as long as humanly possible

- on days when he has actual responsibilities, armin is pretty good about being punctual, but he will still stay in bed as long as humanly possible and go through a shortened version of his routine. he’s good about being places on time, but it doesn’t mean he is in a good mood

____________________

- and finally, despite everything, he doesn’t drink caffeine in the morning. he is a firm believer that a cold glass of water will wake him up faster. since he doesn’t eat much for breakfast, he doesn’t want to get jittery

#grumpy pouty slightly manipulative armin who wants to spend all day in bed with me will forever live rent free in my mind #yes jean gets on his nerves but dw he loves him sm jearmin rise #but jearmin cant rise too much bc i want him pls #if you read all this you get a gold star #what a fucking anthology #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert headcanons #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet #armin x reader #aot headcanon #armin arlert angst #armin arlert fluff

[lovelytsunoda]

teenage dream // george russell

summary: george goes all out when he finds out his girlfriend missed out on the experience of having a teenage romance.

pairing: george russell x female reader

warnings: mentions of sex & suggestive content, inexperienced reader. geochalex being chaotic.

authors note: welcome to the katy perry throwback series! lately I’ve been shockingly into her first two albums so here I give you a series for basically anybody I usually write for that wasn’t covered by the one direction series.

this one is so personal to me because I also missed out on having a teenage romance so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.

“so, george, how’s y/n?”

the mercedes driver rolled his eyes, sticking his middle finger up at the computer screen even though he knew alex couldn’t see, the screen filled with the latest game of apex legends that he and his closest friends were playing to waste the night from their respective parts of europe.

“she’s great, we’re great.”

he could practically hear charles rolling his eyes. “you’ve been acting strange for the past week and a bit, something is wrong mate.”

“nothing is wrong. in fact, since she moved in with me, I think our relationship has gotten stronger.”

“have you guys…” alex trailed off before clearing his throat “you know, have you guys had sex yet?”

“I don’t understand how that’s any of your business, alexander.” george huffed, leaning back in his gaming chair.

but the truth was, he hadn’t slept with y/n yet, and it was starting to make him nervous, wondering if he was doing something wrong.

she was so shy and quiet that it had taken the brit two months just to make sure that kissing her wouldn’t scare y/n off.

they’d been together for just under a year, and the farthest they had gotten to having intercourse was y/n letting george go down on her.

he had never even seen her without a shirt on.

“It’s my business because it’s weighing on your mind and it’s bothering you. we just want to help you.”

“well, no. we haven’t.” george sighed, pausing the game and running his hands over his face. “I know she’s shy, and she’s nervous, but she means so much to me and it’s killing me to think that I might not be making her comfortable enough for her to let me see her like that, or maybe she feels like she can’t talk to me about it-“

“george.” charles cut him off. “I know you want to avoid this conversation, but I think you need to talk to her about this if it’s bothering you so much.”

“I know, I just-“

“georgie? it’s late, baby. come to bed.”

george smiled, turning slowly in his chair, eyes lighting up when he saw y/n standing in the doorway. the love of his life was dressed in her favourite short-sleeved flannel pajama set: white with soft pink hydrangea flowers dotting the fabric.

“yeah, baby, I’ll be up in a second.”

“is that y/n?” alex shouted, his voice carrying through the headphones george was wearing. “hi y/n!”

“is that alex? can i say hello?” y/n smiled, reaching out a hand for the headphones.

george passed them to her, and she slipped them over her head. “hi alex, hi charles.”

“hi y/n!” both drivers chorused.

“lily wants to know how book club went? she wants to know what book to go out and buy next.” alex starting talking, charles quick to talk over him.

“I think george needs some attention, hes been spending too much time moping lately.” charles interjected. “he sounds like a man who needs his dick suck-“

“okay, charles, that’s enough,” george cut the monegasque off mid sentence, taking the headphones back. “good night, jackasses. I’ll call you in the morning.”

half an hour later, y/n was curled up in bed with a copy of lucy foleys ‘the guest list’, smelling like bath and body works and looking stunning, reading glasses perched on her nose.

george slipped into bed next to her, her eyes instantly drawn to the tight cotton shirt he was wearing, the hen tucked loosely into his flannel pajama pants with the different marvel superheroes on them. she bookmarked her page, placing the paperback on her nightstand before leaning over and quickly pressing a kiss to george’s lips.

“good night, gorgeous.” she said softly, slipping underneath the covers and curling into georges side.

george hesitated. “actually, honey bear, there’s something i wanted to talk to you about.”

a worried expression formed on y/n’s face, a bad feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

“baby, what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing bad, don’t be scared. I just, I was thinking earlier that we’ve been together a year now, and I’ve never seen you take your shirt off, and we’ve never really been intimate in the sense that we haven’t….”

“we haven’t fucked yet, right.” y/n said softly, lacing her fingers with his. “georgie, I’ve never told you this, but you’re my first everything. I never had the experiences that most people my age have, I never had a high school love, never had a one night stand at a college party. I’d never even been kissed before you.”

george felt like an asshole. “honey bear, I’m so sorry, I had no idea. please don’t feel like I’m pressuring you. we can take this at your own pace, whenever you feel ready, I’m be right here. I love you, angel.”

“I love you too.”

as george fell asleep that night with y/n in his arms, all he could think about was all the experiences that y/n must have missed out on.

and what he could do to make them all up to her.

———————————

you think I’m pretty, without any makeup on

y/n stood in the middle in the ensuite bathroom, dragging a plastic brush through her hair as she stared at her plain, delicate face in the mirror, an unopened tube of mascara lying on the countertop as george came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“you look beautiful, honey bear.” the mercedes’ driver cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck, twisting the urge to slide his hands up the front of her white blouse.

he would wait for her to tell him when she was ready.

“thanks, babe.” she smiled softly, and it set butterflies loose in the drivers stomach.

she truly was perfect.

as y/n reached for the mascara tube, george slapped her hand away. “you don’t need that. you’re stunning without any makeup whatsoever.”

———————————

now every februrary you’ll be my valentine

it was late when she got home, and the large house, the house that usually felt somewhat less cavernous and wide when her boyfriend was around, felt empty like it had ever since george had left for bahrain. she had gone with him to the airport in gatwick and had cried before reluctantly letting him go with the rest of the mercedes team.

being a working woman and dating a man with a schedule as complicated as George’s wasn’t always easy, but she kept saying she could handle it.

she leaned over the post box to check for mail, her foot caught the edge of something soft.

she looked down, her heart filling with love as she looked at the massive bouquet of roses sitting on the front stoop, an envelope tacked to the front.

“oh, georgie.” she said to herself with a smile, struggling to hold the bouquet and get the door open at the same time.

after getting herself settled inside the house, and placing the roses in a vase on the kitchen table, she opened the card.

hope you had a good day at work, my love. miss you lots already. it’s way too hot here, and this is supposed to still be winter weather. hope you’re keeping warm!

love you, my valentine.

- george

with a giggle, she pulled out her phone to video call george and thank him in person. because of time zones, she wasn’t sure if george would even still be awake.

“george’s phone.”

“hi, toto.” y/n grinned, waving at the austrian.

george’s team principal had quickly become a very important person in the young couples lives, and whenever y/n needed to talk to someone who knew what dating a driver was like, and the mental toll that the constant weekends away that she couldn’t follow her lover for was pressing in on her, she found comfort in talking to totos wife susie.

“ah, y/n! you look well! george just came back from a meeting with his strategist, let me go find him for you.”

“thanks, toto. tell susie I miss her, we should get coffee next time she’s in london.”

moments later, george was on the phone, his smiling face and wide blue eyes filling the camera.

“hi honey bear! did you get the flowers?”

y/n giggled. “of course I got the flowers! babe, valentines day was weeks ago. you didn’t need to get me more roses. carnations would have done just fine.”

“but you’re my valentine all year round, darling.” george continued, a wide, lovesick smile on his face that made her heart swell.

“I love you, you big idiot.”

“I’m offended.” george joked, pretending to be upset at the jibe. “I love you too, baby. I’ll be home real soon, and I can’t wait to have you with me in australia.”

———————————

let’s go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love

“he crosses the line, and george russell is your pole sitter this hungarian grand prix !!”

y/n was ecstatic, jumping up and down excitedly in the lounge area of the garage, bright green mercedes headphones over her ears. she was beyond proud, watching the green and silver car back into the garage, the engineers, mechanics and strategists getting to their feet and cheering for the driver as he stepped out of the car.

y/n took off her headphones, hanging them over the monitor before she ran over to her boyfriend, her entire body seized with want as george ran his fingers through his hair, race suit tied low around his hips, abs straining against the fireproofs he wore underneath.

“I’m so proud of you!” she gushed, throwing her arms around george as he picked her up, spinning around in a few quick circles before he placed her back on the ground, kissing her hard and deep.

“we should celebrate.” george said gleefully, still trying to catch his breath. “order room service, watch an absurd comedy movie, maybe something with zombies? and then we’ll cuddle. lots and lots of cuddles, I think.”

that was what sealed the deal for y/n. she had already decided that hungary was going to be the weekend. the weekend that she gave george her everything, let him see her completely.

she kissed him softly, one hand slowly sliding down his chest. “or, I think I have a better idea.”

“yeah?“ george hummed. “what’s that?”

“I’m ready, george.” she said softly, slipping her hand down the front of his race suit to play with the waistband of his jack & jones underwear. “I want you.”

the drivers breath hitched. “seriously? god, I love you.” he kissed her quickly, pulling her close. “if you can contain yourself for an hour while I do media, I’m gonna take you back to our hotel and show you just how much i absolutely adore you.”

aside from when he went to the media pen, y/n was always at his side, their hands clasped together. the tire drive home, george always kept one hand on the wheel and one hand with hers. when they got to the hotel, he swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style back to the room before laying her softly on the bed, leaning over her body to kiss her.

“I love you so much, baby. you’re in control tonight, okay? this is all about you, and I want you to feel how much I love you.”

later, after they had both come ( and it was the quickest george had ever come but he wasn’t even complaining about it because absolutely nothing could compare to the feeling of finally doing it with y/n, the love of his life) they were curled up next to each other, still fully undressed as george peppered her shoulder with gentle kisses, y/n sighing contentedly in his arms.

“you okay, honey bear?” he said quietly, voice husky. “do you need anything? glass of water, a coffee?”

y/n turned around in his arms, gently kissing the bridge of his nose. “I’m okay, baby. just a little cold. can you grab me a shirt?”

george was out of the bed in a flash, rotting around in his suitcase for a fresh shirt. one that he had worn already simply wouldn’t do for his princess.

he playfully tossed her the cotton tee before rooting around in y/ns suitcase for the large plastic hairbrush before rejoining his girlfriend in bed, overcome with love as he sat behind her, running the brush through her hair.

“can we still order room service? I was thinking about that the entire cool down lap and now I’m all excited.”

y/n laughed. “of course we are. and we’re watching the hangover as well, just like we had already planned.”

and then they kissed.

———————————

got a motel and built a fort out of sheets.

the house was dark when y/n came home. she had gotten stuck in traffic on her way out of london and wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry. george wasn’t due home from belgium for at least another twelve hours, and she had never missed the man more.

she was sweating in the summer heat, white tennis skirt sticking to her body as she took her high heels off, enjoining the feeling of her bare feet on the marble tiles as she crossed into the kitchen.

she had missed the suitcases sitting in the doorway.

y/n froze when she made it to the kitchen, staring in the direction of the den that lead out to the patio. the dining room chairs had all been pushed into the living room, in a large circle, draped in the grey cotton sheets from her and georges bed, a soft glow coming from inside.

and in the middle of it all was the man himself, george emerging from the sheet-fort to simply say “hi honey.”

“georgie!” she shouted, launching herself at the driver and wrapping him in a hug, peppering his face in kisses before their lips finally meet. “but how?”

“I got toto to put me on an earlier flight. I just had to come home to my girl.” the driver grinned, kissing y/n again. “come, let us waste the night away in my humble blanket fort.” george grinned to himself, pulling the sheets back to allow her to crawl into the fort.

the floor of the fort was covered in pillows, the duvet from the bed spread across the floor, fluffy blanket lying on top. an unmarked pizza box from costco sat on a tray in the middle, a projector pointed at the sheets.

“george, this is amazing.”

“anything for you, my sweet valentine.” george hummed, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“hangover part two?” y/n suggests, powering on the projector

“hangover part two.”

#lovelytsunodas katy perry series #george russell x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #george russell #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #Spotify

[dawolfboris-again]

SO!

I just had another strange Legend of Zelda dream.

So it was like, Zelda's nineteenth birthday and the Champions were still all alive and whatnot (but it was still the Calamity thing going on. Link still needed to save their pathetic asses from dying from the blights) and the Champions (not including Link or Zelda, obv) were wanting to through a surprise party for Zelda, but they didn't have a place to do it. So, they meet up with the duo as Zelda meets up with another knight (for??? some reason???????), leaving Link to get some rest back at his house. Zelda initially was going to stay, because hey. All the Champions are in one spot. Obviously something big and important and big is happening. They send her off, however, claiming this is only for Link's Hylian ass ears and not for Zelda's. Link feels really fucking concerned with this, but after insuring that Zelda is way far gone to even be able to hear what's happening, the Champions tell Link that they have a plan to throw Zelda a party for her birthday and would like some help to throw it for her cuz they need a place to throw it and they think that Link could most definitely find one and they most definitely don't want to use Link's house cuz of course that's Link's house and whatnot not everyone is gonna fit in it. Link then suggests using an old house (that isn't dilapidated and isn't seen anywhere for some goddamn reason?????) on the Great Plateau and that house is large enough to fit them all plus a bunch extra. With that in mind Link helps them to it and they get to work, also telling Impa, Purah and Robbie about it all and how it's secret and whatnot. Soon, the day before, it's finished and all good, and they get to getting ready for Link to help guide Zelda here, and once Link finds Zelda again for guiding around Hyrule, he first suggests heading to the Great Plateau cause he thinks that there's something interesting up there that he found there, and Zelda begins to agree and goes with him so that she can see it too, and so Link lead's her to the house in such a way that the Champions can see them arriving and they all get ready as Link give a special knock before coming in, Zelda being kinda shoved in first before being surprised with a happy birthday party and she smiles greatly as Link wiggles around her to the front of her (ya know. so she can see him.) and Link gives a gentle smile. Revali also smiles (for the first time in his goddamn Hylia cursed life) and everyone else gives Zelda a hug before they all sit down to eat some cake (that Zelda finds out Link made :) )

Also at some point Link stops wearing Hylian Trousers and is wearing fluffy pajama pants? And I can't piece together as to WHY because most of the dream he's wearing the trousers but it's like, everytime he pops into the house, he stops wearing the trousers and is only wearing the pajama pants, which are also flannel. He still wears his Champion Garb but like. My GOD. Why can't he stick to one pants.

Yes this is also Botw/Totk. Or at least in between because Zelda's in her fucking twenties in totk

#breath of the wild #legend of zelda breath of the wild #loz botw #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom #link botw #link breath of the wild #link loz #link totk #loz totk #link tears of the kingdom #god I wish I had more fucking thoughts about them. #Zelda totk #Zelda botw #champion daruk #champion revali #champion urbosa #champion mipha

[leelei1980]

Part 7- Beauty and the Freak

Late night visitor

Eddie

I couldn't sleep, no matter what I did I couldn't turn my brain off tonight. This happened from time to time, I was wound up . Sometimes I would read, or take a hot shower and try to relax but none of that was working. If I was desperate I would smoke a joint but tonight I had a different idea.  I know someone else that also had a hard time sleeping, and I was going to go see her.

I slid on some sweatpants and a tee shirt and a flannel, locked the door and got in my van. Now I obviously didn't want to wake up the whole neighborhood so I parked at the park just down the road from Veronica's house and walked the rest of the way there. The trick was going to be getting up to her room, luckily there was a tree and the roof of her back porch that I could climb on to get there. I carefully, quietly climbed the tree then tiptoed across the roof to her window. Her curtains were drawn and her room was dark, I wondered if she was really asleep in there and if she was should I wake her? I decided that I would lightly tap and if she didn't come after a minute or two I would go back home.

I tapped lightly, waited. All of a sudden the curtains flew open and there was my sweet princess standing infront of her bedroom window armed with an umbrella, eyes wide in surprise. She set down the umbrella and opened up the window.

" Eddie! What the hell are you doing here at this hour?Hurry up and get in here before someone sees you and thinks your trying to break in!" She whispered.

I carefully climbed in, trying not to make any noise. I slowly closed the window behind me. When I turned back around my heart started beating a little faster, partially from the adrenaline and the thrill of sneaking in but mostly because Veronica was standing in front of me in a tank top, tiny pajama shorts and her hair in ponytails on either side of her head. Goddamn.

" Surprise?" I whispered and walked up to her, sliding my arms around her waist. I smiled down at her. " Were you really going to beat my head in with a pink polka dot umbrella if I had been an intruder?"

She smiled up at me, " It's the first thing I could find to defend myself against weirdo's trying to sneak into my room." She stood on her tippy toes and kissed me.

I slid my hands down to her ass and squeezed. She made a little squeak sound then pressed herself against me.I slowly walked her backwards towards her bed and lowered her down, I laid down beside of her.  I lightly nipped at her lower lip then pulled away. " I couldn't sleep, I figured we could be awake together."

" Everything ok Ed's?"

" I just couldn't turn my brain off."

" That happens to me too. I sleep like shit most nights, tossing and turning." She smiled up at me. "I'm glad you came."

I smiled down at her." Me too Princess."  I kissed her forehead, tip of her nose and lips. " If I had known this is what you wore to bed I would have snuck over sooner. Those short shorts, cheeks peeking out, tank top, no bra and ponytails?" I lightly tugged on her braids. " This is like a dream come true." 

I could see the smirk on her face by the light of the moon. She ran her hand down my side, my hip, oh god, the front of my pants, lingered. " This is a dream come true." I could feel my dick spring to life. She pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me. And i thought I was wound up before.

She moved and started grinding her hips, I pressed my lips tightly together to keep from making any noises. I slid my hands up her stomach to her breast, ran my thumbs over the hard nubs under her tank top. She leaned forward and whispered in my ear." This feels so good baby, does it feel good for you too?"

" So fucking good. I'm going to cum in my boxers if you keep going."

She pressed down harder and moved her hips faster. I was just getting ready to slide my hands under her shirt when we both noticed the hall light flick on.

"Fuck!"

She jumped off me and slipped under the covers and I dove to the floor and crawled under her bed. Just as I rolled all the way under the door open .

" Veronica are you still up?" I heard Lucy ask quietly.

" Yeah Mom, couldn't sleep. Sorry if I woke you up. I was reviewing questions for tomorrow's test , I was just saying them out loud, sometimes it help it stick. Sometimes when I can't sleep I say all the elements from the periodic table out loud, it's so boring I fall asleep."

" I'm sorry you have a hard time sleeping, honey. Ever since dad  passed and our life was uprooted." Lucy sat on the bed, I held my breath.

"It's not your fault Mom. Someday I'll be normal again."

Lucy laughed." I don't think you will ever be normal honey."

" Probably not. I love you Mom. Now go back to sleep, you've got to get up early for work, I will sit here and mumble my periodic table and eventually fall asleep."

I heard her kiss Ronnie's cheek ." Love you my sweet girl.Get some sleep."

" Night mom."

I heard the door close, heard footsteps walk away and saw the light turn off from the crack under the door. I waited a minute then poked my head out from under the bed as Veronica hung  over the side of her bed, I swear to god her tits were going to fall out of her shirt, but they didn't.

She smiled down at me and whispered." That was fucking close!"

I smiled up at her and whispered." I was fucking close, one more hip thrust and I would have cum in my pants. Do you know how hard it is to army crawl across the floor with a fucking boner? I thought I was going to break my dick."

She covered her mouth with both hands and quietly laughed." We can't have you doing that, I haven't had a chance to really use it yet.But baby, it feels super impressive."

" Your boobs are super impressive. "  I reached up and cupped them in my hands." More than a handful."

She smiled and whispered." You better be careful. You don't want your boner to get caught up on my bed frame as you slide out from under there."

" Jesus Christ." I whispered and quietly slid out from under the bed. I carefully crawled up and slid under the covers with her. She laid back with her head on her pillow, I kissed her lips softly then I laid my head on her chest. One minute she was playing with my hair and I was listening to her heartbeat and the next I was out.

I woke up the next morning to the birds singing, the sun shining and the sound of an alarm clock buzzing.

Oh.Fuck.

I unwrapped my body from my sweet Angel and sat up quick. Veronica swatted at her alarm, realized that I was lying in bed with her and popped up.

" Oh my god! " she whispered." Eddie, we've got to get you out of here!"

" I know!" I whispered back. This was about to get interesting.

#eddie fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut

[howldean]

thx for the tag merv my best friend merv @soldierpoetdean

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to get to know better.

name: ah a trick question already, i see how it is. Dean!! or bucky, or bee, or nio if you know my origin story and lore, hymn if you're biblically accurate

star sign: taurus

height: 5'8"

time: 6:13pm pacific time

birthday: april 27th

favorite bands/artists: the happy fits, kendrick lamar, lord huron, depeche mode, M.A.G.S., hozier, led zeppelin, and mother mother (honestly i listen to a lot of individual songs from artists but these are for the most part bands that i can put on shuffle and enjoy)

last movie: dogma

last show: *sigh* supernatural. NEW show though i've been watching merlin for the first time

when did i create this blog: december of 2020 i believe

what i post: what is this a government census?? i post what i post (spn, some old multifandom stuff, slice of life, and my projects)

last thing i googled: dean winchester everybody loves a clown

other blogs: dead x-men blog @antisocial-empath, jail blog @travelershymn, and angel/cowboy needless gender fodder aesthetic blog @hurricanehymn (might trade that and jail urls tho)

do i get asks?: surprisingly yes! i really need to send more at random but rye, january, and merv tend to send me stuff (this is your sign to randomly send me asks i love it so much it never annoys me ever)

following: 448

average hours of sleep: also 4-10 hours though honestly averaging a solid 6-8

instruments: none........ i do have a keyboard though and i wanna get back into learning that

what im wearing: band shirt and flannel and pajama pants. i've been like this all day

dream job: delightfully unemployed and tending to a community garden! but i'm working towards a degree in hospitality lol

dream trip: anywhere and everywhere. i want to do a mutuals roadtrip somehow and some way someday if i'm being honest

nationality: american....

favorite songs: DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE most recently its another try by the happy fits, cult of personality by living color, smile by m.a.g.s, honeypie by jawny (i say that unironically it's a bop), wrong by depeche mode, and ghost on the shore/ends of the earth/the night we met/the man who lives forever by lord huron

last book that i read: a collection of poems called "safeword" by donald dunbar

top 3 fictional universes i’d like to live in: ngl supernatural would be cool, disney's robin hood. yeah the fox one, and maybe one with cool dragons since harry potter is dead to me

tagging, should you choose to accept it: @the-foungaytions-of-degay @serpentski @quietduckpond @guychild @eileenguy @crabs-but-better @final-girl-cas @groot-the-tree-writes and curse you merv for tagging like. all of the people that i know..... @ YOU if you want to participate just act like i tagged you it's fine

#tag games #gtky games #bee says things

[hotfanfics]

Jessie Spano’s New Attire: Saved by the Bell

Based on: Saved by the Bell by Peter Engel

Rating: 14+

During a sleepover at the Jessie Spano household with the SBTB gang, Kelly and Lisa are wearing their fairly conservative pajamas before the boys, Zack, Slater and Screech come by. Jessie, on the other hand, wears a little something out of the ordinary for her.

Lisa: (to Kelly) Woah, Kelly, girl. You lookin' fine in those PJs of your's. Kelly: Oh, thanks. Thought I'd wear something a little conservative so the boys would go too crazy. Lisa: Good idea. I decided to wear a robe that looks better on me, as well. Kelly: Yeah, so where's Jessie? She says she's got new PJs she picked out for herself. Lisa: What do you think is it gonna be? Baggy ones that looks like something a guy or my grandma would wear?

Both Kelly and Lisa laugh. Jessie enters in wearing her pajamas consisting of extremely tight and extremely short flannel PJ short shorts emphasizing on her legs and her butt most of all, and a baggy jersey, much to Kelly and Lisa's shock and surprise. Jessie Spano for once in her life parading around showing off her assets in THE tiniest, tightest, smallest pair of short-shorts anyone has ever worn on this planet Earth, it’s so criminally short, accentuate heavily on Jessie Spano’s buttocks to the point where it looks like body paint, and shows off a great deal of not only leg, but skin as well, adding to the titillation and sex appeal, it’s now wonder her nickname is “Jessie “Legs” Spano”. And jersey adds a nice touch to the sexiness of her choice of night attire. Jessie’s choice of outfit is rather daring, wearing it around a bunch of hormonal-charged teenage boys and the fact that she thinks clothing like this is sexist.

Jessie: Hello, gals. Well, what do you think?

(if you look behind, you’ll see how short the short-shorts are and how much it looks like body paint, making her look like she’s half naked).

Lisa: Woah! Dang, Jessie, you got it going on, girl! Kelly: Wait a minute, Jessie, you, are wearing that? Those short shorts?! Jessie: Yes?

(from the front, it looks as if she ain’t wearin’ any panties, showing off her cameltoe).

Coincidentally, Jessie is also holding a baseball bat that adds far more sex appeal to her really short short-shorts due to it’s phallic look. She holds it as if it’s like an erect penis.

Kelly: Lisa, I think we might be in The Twilight Zone. Jessie: Now what do you mean by that, Kelly? Lisa: She's saying that you of all people are seriously wearing those shorty shorts? The one whose always saying that clothing like that is sexist and degrading? Kelly: Yeah, what's up with that? Jessie: Nothing, just thought I'd have a change in outfits. And plus, I wanna drive Slater crazy, off-the-wall, you know. So I decided to show a little skin to get tease him a little. Kelly: Well, you're not only going to drive Slater off-the-wall. Zack and Screech are also gonna go bananas over your hot bod in those shorts. Trust me, if you know teenage boys as well as I do, you would not want to wear short-shorts that short in front of them. Jessie: Oh come on, gals. Kelly gets to dress like a floozy and I don't. Kelly: A floozy?! What kind of girl do you think I-

The door opens, then enters in Zack, Slater and Screech.

Zack: Hey girls, we're all rea- woah! Slater: I never knew Jessie could looker any hotter! Screech: Guys, I think I'm gonna wet my pants! Jessie: Ew! You macho pigs! Slater: Jessie, how comes you never wore anything like this before? You always looked attractive to me, but I didn't think for a minute you looked so sexy in shorts! Woah, mamma!  Jessie: To keep macho pigs like you from drooling. Slater: Well, at least I'll have something to think about when I'm alone. I can already imagine Jessie without them on, right guys?! Zack: Those shorts will never leave my mind. They could be painted-on for all we know! Screech: I'll have lots to think about in my dreams, hot stuff. Look at those bare long legs.

(Jessie’s got some incredible legs and such smooth delicious skin that I’d pour barbecue sauce on those lean mean bare thighs. Jessie Spano sure has no problem showing a lot of skin).

Slater wolf whistles at Jessie as she goes back to change into a more conservative choice of PJs.

Slater: (wolf whistles) Yeah mama! You gotta great pair of legs, Jessie! Try and wear short-shorts like that! I know what I’ll be doing in a little bit, fellas.

Zack and Screech: (at the same time) Me too!

Screech: I also like the way she holds that bat too! She looks as if she’s rubbing an erection. Ha-ha!

Kelly and Lisa: You macho pigs!

Zack, Slater and Screech: (stutter like pigs) Oink! Oink!

Slater sees Jessie walking in those little short-shorts, getting him sexually aroused.

Slater: (thinking) Man! That Jessie is sure sexier than the rest of the girls in class. I like the way she walks. (looks down) Oh no! Not at this moment! Curse you puberty! I don’t want Kelly and Lisa to see!

Jessie accidentally drops her baseball bat. She bends over and Zack, Slater and Screech gaze her butt that her short shorts wedged into. They both places their hands over their crotches, while Slater’s erect gets out of control, he unzips his pants, runs over to a still bent-over Jessie and begins to bang her brains out.

Jessie: (moaning) Oh! Oh my goodness! Oh, Slater! I didn’t think you had that in mind! What am’I talking about, of course I do!

Slater: Jessie, you are the absolute hottest chick around! You're the whole package! Having great legs, smooth bare skin and a wonderful shapely booty that I'm finally now getting to pound! Jessie: Well, don't expect me to say this to often, but, I did this all for you. I admire your love for my body. I do work out quite alot. Oh! Oh! Oh! O-o-o-h-h-h-h!!!!

Slater continues to have sex with Jessie until he eventually orgasms, leaving them both satisfied. The gang are rather entertained by this, while Zack and Screech have wet their pants.

Zack: I think I wet myself!

Screech: I’ve been wet myself!

The Next Day

Slater is in his bed at home in his room, he is masturbating at the thought of Jessie in her short-shorts once again.

Slater: (to himself) Oh, yes! Jessie! You’ve got such great smooth thighs, and such a tight juicy butt! You must workout a lot!

The phone rings!

Slater: Oh great! Just when I was getting to blow my load! (on the phone) Yeah! What the hell do you want?!

Jessie: Slater! Is that anyway to talk to your wife?!

Slater: O-oh! H-hey Jessie-bear! Boy, last night was great! I never felt so much pleasure before. Zack and Screech were real jealous about the fact I pounded your fabulous buns last night. You need to wear stuff like that more of--Wait! W-what was that about “wife”?!

Jessie: W-well, it may surprise you to know, that.......I-I’am pregnant!

Slater: What?! Are you serious Jessie: I'm afraid so. Slater: I knew this would happen, but my hormones get the best of me when it comes to hot gal. Jessie: Now, calm down. Slater: I can't calm down! This is all your fault you know! If you hadn't wore those incredibly short short-shorts around me tucked into your firm butt, this wouldn't have happened! Jessie: Wait, Slater, are you slut-shaming me?! Slater: Yeah! You're the one who started it! Jessie: You can't blame this one on me! You boys have the urge to control yourself! Just because I wear certain outfits, no matter how revealing it is, you should not blame it on me. You should've masturbated instead, you macho pig! Slater: But you like it when I sticked my wiener into you. You didn't complain!

Jessie: Slater, look, lets not argue, I want to be sure I don’t too much pressure on the baby.

Slater: Well, okay. Let’s just be sure to keep this from our parents. And please try and dress more conservatively next time!

It is then shown that Jessie and Slater’s parents were listening in on the conversation, they look at each other.

AUDIENCE ROAR WITH LAUGTHER

THE END

#saved by the bell #jessie spano #short shorts #fanfic #fanfiction #dirty fanfiction #slater #a.c. slater #sexy #fanfic with pics #jessie x slater #jessie and slater #jessie spano and a.c. slater #jessie spano and slater #zack morris #screech powers #kelly kapowski #lisa turtle #pajamas #pjs #teenagers #funny #elizabeth berkley #jessie spano fashion #saved by the bell fashion #mark paul gosselaar #tiffani thiessen #lark voorhies #jessie spano outfits

[hidesquidling]

Answer 30 23 Questions and Tag 20 Some Blogs In Spirit

Name: squidling

Sign: taurus

Height: 5'5'' ish

Birthday: i see u identity thieves… not today!

Time: almost 2pm, i can almost turn my work phone off... i get two hours a day off phones and i feel like a dog waiting for a walk

Favorite band/artists: florence + the machine, fallout boy, uhhhh and mystery skulls, god that was hard, i'm not really a music person

Last movie: Nope; it was excellent, great acting, great animal acting, great stuff to say about animal handling which I did not expect to ever see in any movie let alone a horror, do recommend

Last show: supernatural. It's going to be supernatural for a while tbh cause I'm on s11 and already longing for s1-5 so hard that I'm probably going to start all over again when I'm done

When I created this blog: uhhhh not sure, may? Whenever I started to go too insane over wincest to keep quiet about it

What I post: it's reblog city my friends; mostly gifs and samdean meta, also blood/gore whenever it crosses my dash, and lord knows what it's going to be tomorrow--this thing is NOT curated it's all id all the time.

Last thing I googled: incarcerated uterus. i work in the back office of an obgyn clinic and oh boy do i run across some wild stuff. this one's less horrifying than most of them but still. know yourself before careless googling.

Other blogs: my main runsquidling for things i'm not trying to hide from irl people, and readsquidling for things i need to go back and… you know, read. If I put your rec list or your fic there it's because I'm methodically going through each and every one and appreciating them all.

Do I get asks: no :'( but i'm a serial reblogger i'm not really expecting any

Following: 388 blogs but I'm pretty sure most of them aren't active anymore. I don't really unfollow for anything but you know, not having the same taste anymore (or being were--ralph who i have to periodically unfollow and refollow because sir i love your taste but i am a compulsive tumblr user and cannot stop myself from tumbling in places where i really can't have werewolf dick front and center on my phone)

Average hours of sleep: 5 on weekdays, 12 on weekends. do not recommend. try to not have your circadian rythm set to 3:30am if you can help it, it sucks

Instruments: i sing enthusiastically enough for my local karaoke bar seems to enjoy it!

What I’m wearing: a t-shirt and some pjs i made in a fit of sewing passion that ended in seven pairs of flannel pajama pants and no tops.

Dream job: oh trophy widow for sure, but that involves a whole lot of skills I don't have and a whoooooole lot of luck so it's out of reach T_T

Dream trip: I don't like trips! routine disruption bite bite kill kill. I do like to walk to the library though if that counts.

Nationality: american

Favorite songs: i'm so sorry my looping song right now is e-girls are ruining my life (CORPSE, Savage Ga$p)… it's so… aggressively horny… the uwu… i'm a sucker

Last book I read: oh god it was Acorna's Quest by Anne MacCaffrey after YEARS of casually thinking about wanting to read it again… it was very different from what i remember but you know what? still good. acorna my love <3 unicorn girls and space orphans <3<3 heros with an overactive and foolish sense of justice who also win in the end <3<3<3

3 fiction universes I’d live in: i'm such a baby i couldn't handle any of the fictional universes i like XD So uh… Catwings, Tea Dragon Society, and The Ship Who Sang--the last of which is just The Future And Sometimes Spaceships Are People.

Tagged by @zxroh and now i'm paralyzed trying to interpret tagging etiquette rules. Who am I allowed to tag. I've been thinking about this for seven minutes. Enough. If you're thinking "gosh i wish she'd tagged me" consider yourself tagged.

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

[wwilloww]

point of no return | PJM

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smut. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Roommates AU.

WC: 10.2k

Summary: Both Jimin and you are determined to never act on the feelings you hold for one another. Instead, you’d rather shove it down, somewhere deep, dark, and inaccessible. So what do you get when you mix a broken furnace, an old victorian home, a little bit of jealousy in the club, and a need to keep warm together? A mess.

Warnings & Tags: Cursing. Reader is really freakin cold. Jimin sleeps in the nude. Spooning. Grinding. Obscene daydreaming about your best friend.  Sex dreams. Mentions of alcohol. Dancing. Jimin is a little jealous. Masterbation. Unexpected visual. Super soft makeout. Fingering. Orgasm denial. Sex. Slight power play. Creampie.  

AN: Oof! Finally! A Jimin fic! Thank you to @thatlongspringnight for guiding me through the last 6k of this fic, all written in one day and for being the most brilliant, queen of queens level beta reader. A big thanks to @triviasapphic too, for letting me use their likeness! 

This is very loosely based on this ask beautifully submitted by the loveliest @jinpanman for the milestone request party! 

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

point of no return 

“Fuckin’ shithead mutherfuckin cunt basket,” you hiss.

Nothing would turn it on.

You tried pressing the knob. You tried twisting it until your hand rubbed raw. You tried shaking it. You tried begging in your sweetest, most saccharine tone. You even tried giving it compliments.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you look with three coats of white paint? No?”

Fifteen minutes ago the antique radiator — so old it would probably be better in a museum of old technologies than as a functioning heat mechanism — stuttered to a halt and refused to turn back on.

When you had picked the house out with your best friend, Jimin, you’d loved it for it’s Victorian era charm. But now with the December cold creeping in through the thin window and your refusal to own more than one blanket you were shivering madly, teeth clattering cold. And wildly in doubt of your house hunting skills.

With a heavy sigh and slumped shoulders, you drag your comforter off of the mattress, wrap it tightly over your shivering shoulders, and pad barefoot down the hall. Instead of knocking, you just twist the door handle, letting the door swing open before you with a long, drawn-out squeak. You wince at the sound.

A dark figure sits up from the bed, squinting at you in the darkness.

“Is that—”

“It’s me,” you whisper. If it were anyone else, that response would be useless. But after years of friendship Jimin knows every tune and nook in your voice — the way it sounds when you’re upset, or scared, or — in this case — really fucking cold. “The heater broke.”

“What?” His voice is groggy and sleep-heavy.

“The heater broke. Can I stay here tonight?”

He scrunches his nose and wipes a hand across his face.

“Yeah, sure, uh—” He shifts a bit in bed and that’s when you realize he’s not wearing anything at all. You gulp. It’s the coldest month of the year and the fucker is naked in bed, nothing more than a top sheet thrown over his body, the rest of the duvet crumpled at the foot of the bed. Even though you know he’s one to sleep in the nude (“It invigorates your skin and keeps your body temperature regulated,” he had explained to you once) seeing it, in front of you, just the thinnest piece of fabric between you and your best friend’s junk is a whole other story.

As he moves, the sheet slips down, revealing his toned stomach, only visible by the moonlight flooding through the bay windows of his bedroom.

“Give me a minute to put something on?”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, turning around quickly to give him some semblance of privacy, your blanket whooshing out behind you.

You can hear him pad over to his dresser, just three feet behind you. You swallow hard as you imagine him, totally naked, so close to you. Literally within arms reach. If you could only—

“Turn around, I’m done.”

You peek over your shoulder before turning fully, only to see Jimin, now clothed in some pretty short black boxers, climbing back into bed. Blanket trailing, you shuffle after him, climbing into the warm bed from the other side.

You pull your comforter as tightly around you as you can, but you’re still cold. As you turn to face away from your friend, you can’t help but shiver, your shoulders shaking with the chill that’s settled deep in your bones.

“Can you stop shaking?” Jimin’s sleep-adled voice grunts from behind you.

“I’m too cold,” you whine.

“Come ‘ere—”

And before you know it, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging your body backwards until it meets his. He pulls the blanket up and slides in behind you, wrapping himself around your shivering form.

“Better?” he asks while you’re still in shock from the amount of contact he’s just put the two of you in.

“Mhmm,” you squeak out, even as your body continues to shake.

“You’re a liar,” he chuckles.

“I don’t know why you bothered to ask then,” you snap back, wrapping your arms tight around yourself.

You’re not sure if he sees this or if he’s acting on his own accord. You let out a small gasp as he tugs you even closer, his arm slipping under the blanket to press against the skin of your hip. He maneuvers you backwards, your body as limp as a puppet, while you lay there in shock (and a small bit of exhilaration). He presses the back of your body flush against his front and snakes his top arm up the front of your torso until it rests in the center of your chest, gripping your opposite shoulder.

Trapped.

You’re trapped in his arms, nowhere to move, nowhere to go. Only the sound of your combined breaths, his a little more slow and sleepy than your nervous pant. Trapped only with the idea of him so close, and the strange thing fluttering in your chest that only continues to grow bigger and bigger despite all the work you’ve done to push it away. All you can think about is the way he’s pressed up against you, only your thin flannel pajama pants and his even thinner black boxers keeping the most sensitive parts of your bodies apart.

When he shifts, nustling his nose into the crook of your shoulder, you swear you can feel something long and hard press up against your ass.

And suddenly the warmth that is flooding through you has absolutely nothing to do with the shared body heat. Instead it’s coming from someplace deep down — somewhere yearning and desperate — and also from that strange fluttering thing in your chest.

All there is is white. You know somewhere far above you is an endless sea of stars, blinking down on you. But all you know is the grass beneath you and the swimming white sheets that float above and around you.

Someone’s laughing and you turn your face to see him — Jimin — beaming and reaching out towards you.

Somewhere in your mind you know it’s night time and that everything should be dark — and yet, everything around him is lit up and glows with a sourceless light.

Joy rushes through you and as you reach out towards him, he disappears and a new kind of light — warmth — appears behind you.

“I want—” you start to say, but his hand comes up to your mouth, silencing you.

“If you speak, you’ll break the dream,” he says. “Just enjoy it. Let me be here with you.”

Eyes don’t close in dreams, but you know you drift somewhere soft, the feeling of his body so close to yours and the precious rhythm of his breath tracing your neck.

All there is warmth.

Too much of it, actually.

As your eyes blink open to the dark room, the remnants of some dream, lots of white, Jimin’s smile fall away from your consciousness. You kick your leg out into the freezing air and sigh as the coolness washes the heat from your body. Relief.

The warmth that hasn’t been erased, however, is sitting heavy in your lower belly, pooling and swirling and wanting.

You do your best to ignore it, knowing it’s probably some mix of the dream and the thing that you’ve kept hidden on the edge of your consciousness for too long.

You close your eyes again, wishing for sleep to come back and pull you away from these thoughts. Just as you feel the soft edges of another dream lapping at the edges of your mind, Jimin groans behind you and comes to press up against you again, his hand snaking down over your belly.

Eyes shoot open. There. Behind you. Right between the swell of your ass. You can feel his cock pressing into you, at full hardness. You gasp at the sensation, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth so as not to wake him. Slowly, you try to scootch away from his grip, but he holds you there, his arm only tightening when you try to move away.

It’s not that you don’t want it — you do — your body is singing with electricity at the thought of his hard cock against you, between you, inside you. God, if only. However, it’s the consequences, the unspoken question, the unanswered desires (the answer to which you may just not want to know) that push you away from him.

This is your best friend. The person you’ve always been able to rely on and trust. The man you know you can turn to at any moment and know there will never be a question dangling between the two of you.

Except for now.

As he slowly circles his hips against yours, the most delightful, breathy pants falling from his lips — so soft you can barely hear them — the question looms larger than ever.

Are you in love with your best friend?

However, here, his arm wrapped so tightly around your belly, it’s easy to sink into the desire. To equate the arrival of the question with the arousal rising in your body. To tell yourself this is just pleasure, this is natural.

Jimin’s palm is splayed out across your lower belly, pressing hard against you.

He’s rutting shallowly against you, moving for the sake of his own pleasure. A high note of satisfaction slips from his lips, before a name tumbles shortly after it into your ear.

Not any name.

Your name.

You choke on your own words as you understand it. Confusion rushes over you but it’s quickly replaced by adrenaline as his hand clenches and unclenches around your shirt and he shifts and stretches.

Jimin is waking up. Is he going to say something? Is he going to tell you he didn’t mean it at all? Will he run from you?

His body freezes as he realizes the position he’s in. Wrapped so intimately around you, his hard cock pressed against you.

“Shit,” you hear him whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You squeeze your eyes closed and lay as still as possible as you feel him pull away from you. And then the bed dips just enough and you realize he’s leaning over you, checking to see if you’re asleep or not.

You smooth out your features, hoping he doesn’t catch that you’ve been awake this whole time.

The December morning light is streaming in bold and warm through the window.

Your hand goes searching for Jimin, but all you find is an empty, chilled, pillow. There’s a good chance he’s already headed out for the day to see friends or to run errands and so you assume it’s safe as you tiptoe downstairs to get some water and some much needed coffee. Not that you slept much last night.

As you enter the kitchen, the earthy smell of fresh coffee hits you and you take a deep breath, inhaling the nutty aroma. There’s a full pot of coffee already waiting for you on the counter. You smile. Jimin has always been a considerate housemate, but to leave you coffee in the morning? I’m so lucky to have a friend like him, you sigh as you turn to the cabinet to grab a mug.

“Good morning!” an almost nervous, too-cheery voice sings out from behind you.

“AGh!” you cry, nearly dropping the mug you’re holding. Jimin’s quicker than you are though, and reaches out, just as it drops below your belly button. He’s laughing, his delightful giggle filling the light-painted kitchen but all you can think about is how close he’s standing to you, the mug brushing up against your stomach.

“Got it,” he grins.

“You know you can’t jump out at me like that!” you scold, trying to take the mug back from him. But he turns and goes to fill it up for you.

“I literally said your name twice before you noticed. Someone was too lost in dreamland.”

“Pshh, no, I — you need to be a little louder.”

“Can we talk about last night?” Jimin asks as he hands you a cup of coffee. “I, uh, I think there was an accident, I had a dream you were—”

You panic.

“Last night? Oh gosh yeah! I slept like a rock! Thank you for keeping me warm. I would have frozen to death if it weren’t for you.”

You smile as sweetly as you can at him.

He blinks back.

“I mean — uh, yeah, sure, I mean, you’re welcome but that’s not what I mean —”

“Nothing to talk about!” you chirp, already scurrying towards the stairs that lead back up to your bedroom.

“Hey! I’m trying to talk to you!” he cries as you pad upstairs, making a beeline for your bedroom as the coffee you’re holding sloshes around in the mug.

“Oof, well I’m already tired again, gonna take a nap!”

You sprint up the stairs and as you do you hear him call behind you.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

It hits harder than you want it to.

“Come on, princess. You’re taking forever!”

You’re back down on your bed, swaddled in all the blankets in the house you could find, scrolling through your phone.

“I don’t want to go!”

“Well I do!” The door finally swings open and Jimin stands there, all dolled up for the night out. He’s wearing tight leather pants that hug his toned thighs just right and a half opened black shirt that he’s still buttoning as you look on. Beneath his hands, his chest shows, the muscular planes simple and sheer perfection. A single silver earring dangles from his left ear, the other one filled with a variety of studs.

As you peek out of your blanket fort, you gulp as you take in his flawless appearance. He looks like straight sex, the darkness of his outfit highlighting every muscle and curve.

"You look nice," you manage to squeak, and Jimin blushes, his praise kink showing. "Those pants are..." Hot as fuck? More beautiful than the Mona Lisa? Just asking me to rip them off? Floundering for language, you just let your sentence trail off as he looks on, a pink tinge still dancing across his features.

"You wanna wear them?"

"Pfft, no," you lie.

“Are you planning on getting out of bed?”

“No.”

"Well then, if you're not going to get out of bed and dress yourself I'll do the honors." Jimin stomps over to the tiny door leading to your closet and swings it open. He ruffles through your set of clothes, as disparate from a full flannel collection (one that you are quite proud of) to an evening gown that never got worn. Words you can't quite hear or understand tumble from his mouth in a stream of frustrated mumbles as he seems to be looking for something very specific. "Aha!" he finally cries out. "Here it is."

What he pulls out is not what you expected.

It's a simple piece. A light tan slip dress, one with a bit of a scoop to the bust. One that hugs all of your curves just right and sits low enough the weight keeps the dress exactly where you want it to be and high enough that your upper thighs are deliciously on display - something that simultaneously excites you and scares the hell out of you. You bought it on a whim, hoping it would help you embody your inner club girl (or "inner slut" as your friend Jungkook would correct you - which, if you were being entirely honest, was really what you meant when you spoke about going to the club.)

"That one? Really?"

"What, you wanna wear this?" He turns back to the closet before pulling out a second dress, this one long and emerald green and sparkly with a full slit up the side.

"No." You pout.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Ugh!" you cry, burrowing deeper into your blanket fort. "Itsmyslutdress," you mumble.

"What?"

"Itsmyslutdress!" you mumble, but louder this time.

"Did you just call it a slut dress?"

You pop your head out of the warmth cocoon with a sigh.

"Yes."

"What does that even mean?"

"It is the dress I wear when I want to embody my slutty alter-ego. The dress I wear when I wanna get laid."

Jimin blinks a few times before turning back to you with a grin.

"Well--do you not want to get laid tonight?" he asks slowly.

You gape at him.

Even as best friends, even talking about your hookups, you never really talked about sex iteself. Everytime you brought it up, whether it was at the bar and you were ogling some tall, dark, handsome stranger as if some psychic had promised you he was your entire future, he always seemed to shut down. And yet, around your other friends, he was an open book. "Basically a sex expert," Jungkook had told you once. "A sexpert." He'd added, grinning.

But with you, sex was off the table. You were more open and vulnerable with him than you were anyone in your life - and he with you. But sex was just never on the discussion board for you two.

"Do you wanna get laid tonight?"

"Are you offering?" you shoot back teasingly.

"Of course," he says softly.

Your mouth drops.

Of course? Of course?!

"I mean! No! What? Wait? Can you repeat the question?"

"You said yes," you say slowly.

"What! No! I did not!"

Jimin is basically stomping his foot on the ground.

"You did!"

He looks almost angry and you're not sure whether to laugh at the softness with which he had agreed to fuck you - or to feel hurt by his quick change of mind.

"Did not!"

You break into giggles finally releasing yourself from your cocoon of warmth to sprawl out on the bed in a fit of laughter. Your little tirade is quickly shut down though as the silky fabric of the dress is thrown onto your face and you cough around the material.

"Get dressed. I don't want to be late," he says, his voice flat.

“It’s too cold for the slut dress,” you grumble in a last ditch effort, fabric falling into your mouth as you sleep.

“Then wear a fucking turtleneck and snow pants to the club,” Jimin says. “I don’t care, just please get dressed.”

The door slams and when you pull the dress away from your face, the room is empty again. With a sigh, you roll off the bed and begin to get ready for the night.

By the time you pulled up to the dark, sticker-plastered doors of the club, Jimin had resumed his usually joyful and peppy demeanor, all memories of his little slip up erased from the night.

You knew better than to push him about it. You knew that he shut down when you called him out on these things in the past— like the way his eyes lingered on you for too long when you showed off a new bathing suit, the cute little stutter he donned when he was flustered by you, or the way he would basically run at top speed in any direction away from you when you emerged from the shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around your body.

As you are swallowed into the sea of dancing figures and booming bass, you feel his hand come to rest on your waist. Pushing further into the crowd, his touch is reassuring. Steadying. His way of keeping a hold on you without actually holding onto you.

He sees them before you do, and quickly grabs onto your hand, tugging you forward into the mass of swaying figures. Waving and yelling their names, the two of you tumble towards your friends. Jungkook and Raven stand near the bar, their faces lighting up when they finally spot you in the mess of strangers.

Raven embraces you first, his arms pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I wanna dance!” Jungkook says before you can even step away from Raven. Drinks abandoned, Jungkook has grabbed both yours and Jimin’s hands and drags you out to the dance floor.

The bass courses through you as your friends surround you, bopping and swaying to the barely understandable lyrics.

Jimin has always been a good dancer. A great dancer, actually. His moves range from absolutely side-achingly hilarious to -- dare you say it -- undeniably sensual.

He twirls you onto the dance floor, the two of you falling into your usual routine of swinging and laughing and kicking all around.

And as the upbeat and perhaps misplaced summer hit switches to a more sensual song he matches it naturally, letting his hips sway and glide to the rhythm. He pulls you along with him, twirling you more slowly. When you twist into his grasp, he doesn’t hesitate to take you into his arms, pressing you against him.

As his arms come to wrap around your shoulders, you can’t help but press back into him.

Raven winks at you and you grin back at him, shooing him and his teasing away.

It’s easy to fall into this. Easy to fall into the sway of Jimin’s body and the safety that comes with being pressed so close against him. You fit perfectly into his body, every one of your curve the antithesis to his. Like two puzzle pieces.

You let your hand drop down to his thigh, gripping it for stability as you sway your hips against his. The muscle tenses beneath your touch and you take that as an opportunity to roll your ass against his crotch.

He meets your movements, grinding back up into you, his hand dropping to your waist where he grips you tightly and guides your movements even further back into him.  

"We shouldn't be doing this," he whispers in your ear.

His body pressed against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world. The nights the two of you have spent in your kitchen, sliding around in socks and grooving to your favorite music, springing each other around your shared house — all of those hours, all of those years make it so when he moves against you he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly what you want him to do. You move in tandem, as if you are sharing a brain, a story, a body.

You tilt your head up to him, nuzzling into his neck.

“Why not?”

“I-I can’t mess up.” He says, but he continues to sway at your back.

“You’re not messing up. I like this.”

As you reach behind you, letting your hand trail up beneath his shirt, you can feel him press into your touch. Chasing it, searching it out. But as your hand trails back down, fingernails scraping delicately against the skin, he seems to snap out of it and steps back from you, even as he keeps his hands on your hips.

You turn, trying to pull him back to you, but you see his brow is furrowed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Just fine!” he says, just a little to cheerfully. “I-I just think I’m done with dancing for tonight.”

Even as he says it he pulls you closer to his chest.

“I’m going to get some drinks, do you want something?”

“You don’t want to dance with me?”

“I— uh— it’s not that.” He shakes his head.

“Please, come on, it’ll be fun,” you groan, tugging on his arm. But he stands firm and stiff. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“I don’t want to dance tonight. Just go on ahead.”

You look your friend up and down. Jimin was never one to turn down an opportunity to dance.

“Okay,” you say, painting a smile on your features even as your heart aches slightly at his rejection. “I just want you to have fun. Do you want me to come with?”

“No--it’s okay. I’ll be back, alright?”

“Alright?”

You watch as he disappears back into the mass of people. You stand still, wondering What the hell just happened?

However, your thoughts are quickly interrupted as Raven reaches out to you, pulling you to him in a graceful spin.

“Distract yourself, darling,” he says with a chuckle. “He’ll come around, don’t you worry.”

Before you have a chance to process his words, Raven spins you out again in the crowd.

You stumble just a little bit, until hands come to rest on the dip of your hips, lingering there just enough to stabilize you. However, they quickly release you as soon as you are standing tall again.

“Oh, ah, thank you,” you half-yell as you turn around, attempting to raise your voice above the noise.

The man who stands behind you is undeniably gorgeous. Tall, with a dark lock of hair hanging into your forehead and the most beautiful smile.

“No worries, it happens all the time,” he grins at you. “What’s your name.”

You yell back at him, but when he can’t hear you, you step closer to him, pressing against his chest to speak your name into his ear. His hand comes down on your waist as you do, lightly.

“My name’s Hoseok. You can call me Hobi though. Care to dance?”

You grin up at him and nod. You’ve never been one to turn down a dance partner.

He takes your hand, quick to find the rhythm of the music.

Hoseok is a natural. As each song progresses, his dances become more intricate. He’s happy to lead you through them and you can’t help but laugh as he spins you around the floor while others are swaying and grinding. You’ve never had this much fun with a stranger, but as he moves against you, you can’t help but think of the way Jimin felt pressed so close to you earlier in the night. It’s just not quite the same.

It’s easy to get lost in him, in his beaming smile and witty jokes that he bends down to whisper in your ear. He compliments you freely, and you do the same in return.

As the night continues you and Hoseok dance closer and closer until he’s pressed deliciously up against your back. You find yourself lost in the sensation of being embraced by someone, even if it isn’t the person you’d want to be there.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but do you wanna come home with me?” The man leans down, the husk of his voice brushing deliciously against your ear.

“I can’t.” You say, turning back towards him. “But thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, leaning down to chastely kiss your cheek. “Can I ask you a question before you go?”

You nod.

“Does your refusal have anything to do with the man at the bar who hasn’t taken his eyes off of us since we started dancing?”

“What?”

He nods over your shoulder, back towards the bar. Through the crowd, you can barely see your friends, but as you reach up on your tippy toes you see them all gathered around, laughing and talking. And then at the edge of them is Jimin. He stands tall and proud and with an unusually grim expression on his face. But when he sees you looking at him, he quickly averts his gaze to his drink, which he is continually swirling in his hand.

“You’re going home with him, aren’t you?”

“Well, duh, he’s my roommate, I—”

“You should go for it,” he interrupts you.

“Go for it?”

“Go for it.”

“There’s nothing there,” you state, matter of factly. “We’re just really good friends!” You’re not sure why you tell him this, but there’s something soft in his eyes that spurs you on.

“Good friends don’t eye fuck each other all night.”

“We weren’t—”

“No need to explain it to me.” He holds up his hands. “But it seems like you have some explaining to do to him. Or at least to yourself.”

You sputter. “Psh! What! No! I’m just tired, Hobi, and if I had the energy I would be fucking you right here, right now, on the dance floor. It has nothing to do with Jimin. Nothing at all!” You realize you’ve got your finger poking into his chest and you quickly draw it back. “Sorry.”

“Okay…”

“Well.” You put your hands on your hips, wiping the frustrated look off of your face. “I should go, I guess. It was nice dancing with you, partner. I’ll be the first to admit you got great hips.”

He’s laughing, and you’re not sure if it’s at you or with you, but when you extend you hand for a friendly fistbump, he meets it with all the enthusiasm in the world, pulls you into a hug, and is off on his merry way, off to find a new dancing partner.

Left alone in the middle of the floor, you kind of just stand there, mulling over what the stranger had said to you. Soon though, you feel a hand on your shoulder and you spin around to see a blank faced Jimin.

“I, uh, just wanted to check in on you.”

“I’m all good!” you chirp, perhaps too cheerfully. As you begin to make your way back to the bar, his hand comes to rest on your lower back and you shiver at the touch.

“So you’re not going home with him?” He nods back in the direction of the disappearing stranger.

“Why would I?”

“Well, you wore your slut dress, so I figured he was a contender.” He doesn’t meet your eye.

“I didn’t want to fuck him.” You stop, and turn to him.

He laughs, almost nervously. “Well I guess that’s an important factor.”

“Yeah, just a minor detail,” you shoot back, grinning.

“I guess it’s all for the best. Didn’t like the looks of him much anyways.

You giggle. “What? Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be jealous.”

“Can’t be? Or aren’t?”

Jimin blinks back at you, an expression of utter surprise on his face. You know his answer in that moment, and yet — there is a kind of doubt that sits in you. That until he says it, it just won’t be real.

And still, he avoids your question.

“I think I’m gonna head home, do you wanna come with or head back with Tae and Raven?”

“I’ll come back with you, there’s nothing left here for me.”

“Great,” he says, a small smile on his lips. “Let’s go.”

“My heat is still out,” you call.

You’re standing at the door to his room in nothing but your pajama shirt. When you’d gotten home Jimin was quick to wish you goodnight and sweet dreams and book it up to his bedroom. You had gone to your own room and changed into sleep clothes, only to climb into bed and realize just how fucking freezing your blankets still were.

But as you stand outside his bedroom, when you press down on the handle, the door is unusually locked. He never locks the door, you think.

“Jimin!”

You push down on the handle, jiggling it obnoxiously as you hope your best friend can hear you from the other side, and isn’t just ignoring you. As you rattle the metal handle, something seems to come loose within the door and all of a sudden the door is swinging open inwards and there’s Jimin, leaning against the backboard of his bed, legs spread, and--

“Oh no—”

Even as your hands flash up to cover your eyes, you know it’s too late.

You’ve already seen it.

It’s imprinted on your brain. The image of Jimin with his head thrown back, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock hastily pulled out of his jeans. He must have been in such a rush he didn’t even bother to pull his pants down. Instead, the leather pants are simply tugged down just enough from him to slip his cock out of them.

“What the fuck!” he yelps.

“Did I—interrupt?” You can’t help but burst into giggles, even as you keep your hands firmly clamped to your face.

“Yes! Yes, you did!” he says, scrambling for the sheet. He pulls it over himself and then does up his pants again.

“If it makes you feel any better you have a nice looking dick!” you squeak out from behind your hands.

He wipes a hand wearily over his face.

“You really wanna have a conversation about my dick right now?”

“See a dick, converse about a dick, am I right?” you laugh nervously.

“No, no, you’re not. It usually goes like ‘see a dick, forget the fact that you ever looked at a dick.’”

“You got a point there.”

The room falls into silence for a moment before Jimin coughs and speaks.

“You can take your hands away now.”

Ever-so-slowly you release your hands from your face, looking over at Jimin who looks — not upset, not embarrassed, not angry — but intrigued. He’s looking at you with a mix of curiosity — and something else. Something you can’t quite put a finger on.

“Welp, I better be going—”

“I thought you said your heat is still out.”

You turn back around slowly.

“...It is. But I can go. I don’t want to make you feel… uncomfortable.”

“You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if you could.”

“I’ve definitely made you feel uncomfortable before. Like that one time I put peanut butter on your special pickles and tried to fry them—”

“Okay, okay, maybe in like, a superficial way. But not in a deep way.” He pauses. “You’re my best friend for a reason.”

You’re still standing in the doorway, and as he looks you over — gaging your reaction, reading your emotions, trying to understand what’s going on in that far-off mind of yours — he realizes you’ve got your arms wrapped around your torso, protecting yourself from the biting draft that drifts down the hallway.

“Come ‘ere. You’re sleeping here tonight.” He says it without hesitation.

You look at him, and then back down the darkened hallway, and then back at him, the warm glow of his bedside lamp painting his features gold. His cheeks are still slightly flushed, his chest peeks out of his loose button down. And perhaps it’s that image that draws you to him — or, what you tell yourself in that moment, the inviting warmth of the layers of blankets on his bed and the radiator that sits close by.

You climb into bed, quickly tucking yourself into the blankets and rolling onto your side, away from him. However, you can feel his hands reaching out towards you, pulling the blankets closer to you, tucking you in further to their addicting warmth.

“I’m uh, gonna read for a little bit, is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, course,” you say, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow you’ve stolen and burry your face into.

He rifles through the nightstand. Behind you, he shifts, getting a bit more comfortable and you can hear the comforting sound of pages turning as he begins to read.

Even as you close your eyes, sleep evades you. As much as you try to banish it from your mind, it seems as if the image of his thick cock is burned into your retina, the vein on the underside of it swollen and pronounced. All you can see in your mind’s eye is Jimin, lost in his own pleasure. His face scrunched, eyes squeezed shut. What would it be like to see what he saw, whatever it was that had him gripping his cock so tight the knuckles began to turn white?

“So do you usually masterbate without porn?”

It slips out before you know what you’re saying.

He coughs behind you, and it sounds like he’s choking.

“What?!”

Well, you think. Now that it’s out there I might as well just go for it. You flip over onto your otherside, face half hidden by the blanket.

“When I walked in on you — you were just… lost in thought. No video or audio or,” you nod at the book he’s holding. “Rip off of Half a Hundred Colors of Dark-White.”

He gapes at you.

“Why are you so obsessed with my masterbatory habits, hm?”

“I-I’m not! I’m just curious, like one would be when they accidentally catch their best friend masterbating. We all, you know, do it. I, myself, have a very lovely connection of multi-colored vibrators — all sizes and shapes and, uh, textures? And vibrations and settings and speeds and—”

“So you wanna talk about it then?” He’s still sitting above, looking down on you. He cocks an eyebrow at your surprised expression. “You didn’t want to talk about last night but you want to talk about how I get myself off?”

It’s your turn to gape.

“Uh, what? Last night, psh no!”

He readjusts his position so he’s facing you now, one leg bent and propped up, the other one folded beneath it. You do your best to keep your gaze focused on his face, and not on the prominent bulge that is now in your direct line of vision.

“So you weren’t grinding on my cock last night — or god forbid tonight at the club — But you wanna know about my masterbatory habits?”

You swallow and despite the chill air of the bedroom, you sit up, letting the blankets fall around your waist.

“I suppose that is what I’m asking.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you lick your lips. You know what you’re asking. You know where you’re pushing things. Everything about this next step terrifies you. And yet, it’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past 24 hours. Hell, the past several years.

You’d be lying if you said that last night’s dream was the tamest of the ones Jimin starred in. He haunted you. His image, his being, were everywhere you turned. Even when you were with other partners or one night stands, all you could do was compare them to Jimin. Were they as softly hilarious as him? Did they know your every thought, your every desire, like he did? Could they anticipate your mood before you even could? Did they fill you with that feeling of belonging and safety like he did? No. None of them ever did. You didn’t just crave Jimin’s attention, you craved his touch.

“You know, most friends talk about this kind of shit.”

“Do they?”

“Yes. They talk about sex. They talk about getting off. They talk about their interests and turn-offs and fantasies and--”

“And you wanna talk about this?” His hand lands on yours. You look up at him as he squeezes your fingers within his warm grasp.

“I-I guess I do. Sometimes it bothers me that we don’t talk about it.”

“Then let’s talk about it,” he says, a little bit more confidence slipping into his voice. He picks your hand up, weaving his fingers in between yours. The way he looks at them reminds you of someone looking at a beautiful vista or an undiscovered creature for the first time. There is wonder -- and also confusion -- in him. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I never wanted to… turn our friendship into something that you didn’t want. Something that made you uncomfortable.”

“And I didn’t want to push.”

“Push me? Into what?”

You glance down at your hands. “I don’t know, something that you were disgusted by.”

“I could never be disgusted by you. It’s the opposite, actually.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away? When I want to talk about things? When I want to be close to you?”

Jimin is silent for a moment.

“Because I’m never sure if this is just fun to you,” he says softly. “What if something happens and you realize you don’t want it in the way you thought you did?”

“And what if something happens and it’s exactly what I want?” One hand still resting in his grasp, you reach out with the free one to clutch onto his shirt. Not wanting to push too far, you make do with tangling your fingers in the silky fabric, twisting it around yourself until you are lost in it.

You don’t see it coming. His hand reaching up to yours, pressing your hand to his chest. Slowly, he slides your intertwined hands up until he can press your palm to his chest. Beneath the fabric you can hear the gentle thud of his heart beating, quicker than usual. And there, he just holds it. Mulling. Contemplating.

“It feels like I’ve been distracted…” He licks his lips as he considers his next several words. “...for weeks. Probably longer. I’ve been trying to hold everything in because it’s not supposed to be there. But the temptation to just give in… To just lean into the things that I want… It’s always there. It doesn’t go away. But--sometimes I can distract myself from it.”

“What is it that you want?”

His gaze flickers back up from your lips. The look in his eyes is searing. Burning. There’s desire there — one that’s all consuming — but something else too. He refuses to look away from you, instead roving over your whole face as if he’s trying to memorize it. As if when he speaks next he might forget you entirely. And that’s when you realize. It’s not confusion dancing in his eyes. It’s loss. He thinks he’s going to lose you.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t have it.”

“You can.”  

“I can’t.” He squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s trying to hold back. “There— there are lines that once you cross you can never go back to.”

“Jimin, I want you.”

The words hang in the stilled silence of the room like lead, suspended and out of place. But you push on, and as you do, his grip tightens around your hands and he’s pulling you forward until you’re flush against his chest.

“And it’s not because of your monster cock -- although that’s like a really really great benefit that I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting--” Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Anyways, I want you for you. I think I’ve wanted you since I met you, but--” You glance down. “I’ve been too scared to admit it. Too scared or too dumb.”

Jimin raises your chin so that you are eye to eye. He’s so close.

“I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you.” He lets his hands drop to your hips, maneuvering you so that you’re fully straddling his waist as he sits up against the headboard. “I wanted you in my life, in whatever way that would be. I wanted you as my best friend and my inspiration and my home -- and to have you like that? I would never want to fuck it up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Simple as that,” he laughs, his hands coming to rest on your hips. He tightens his grip and you instinctively wrap your hands around his neck, tugging him closer to you.

“Simple as that,” you repeat.

The words hang in the air for a moment, filling the space of the bedroom. And then their sound is gone, leaving the air vacant of sound. The weight of what you’ve both just said crashes down upon you.

Simple as that.

“I want to kiss you,” Jimin whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

“Always,” you barely manage to mumble before your lips are crashing together. They begin clumsily, desperate. Teeth knocking together as you both scramble frantically for connection. For the missed years. For the gazes thrown across the hallway, quick and longing.

And then you find your groove. Just like on the dance floor, there is an unspoken communication to the way that you move together. Chasing and pursuing. Biting and pressing. You gasp as Jimin slips his tongue between your lips, swiping against the roof of your mouth.

It feels like forever and no time at all that you’re wrapped up in his arms, his hands climbing the height of your back as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

As the kiss slips into gentleness, you feel him between your legs. He’s impossibly hard. You don’t know if it’s thought or basic instinct that leads you to press your hips forward, sliding ever so slightly along his length. You know you’ve done the right thing when he groans into your mouth. You do it again, this time swiveling against him. His hands snake down to your hips, fingers digging into the fleshy bits of your sides.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” he groans against your lips.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He kisses you fiercely and you let your hands wander beneath the silk of his shirt, tracing the planes of his skin until you’ve had enough and need more. You attempt to tug the fabric up, but he seems lost in your lips.

“Off, please,” you say when you can’t get it over his shoulders.

He grins at you and shucks it off in one go, tossing it onto the floor.

You lean back just enough to admire him like this, the planes of his chest glowing dimly in the light of the lamp.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur in awe.

He captures your lips again, his movements soft and dutiful. And then with all the gentleness in the world, he turns the both of you, cradling the nape of your neck as he lowers you down onto the pillows.

“I never thought I could have you like this.”

“Me neither. I-I don’t know if I can go back.”

“Don’t worry, darling. I already know I don’t want to go back.”  

You smile up at him, a feeling of warmth and love spreading through your chest. As he sits back, looking down on you, you tug your shirt over your head, tossing it to join his discarded top on the floor.

His eyes rove over your naked form, bare of everything except for the grannie panties you slipped on before knocking on his door. At the beginning of the night you wanted nothing but to make sure everything was thoroughly covered. Now you wish you had gone for something a bit more stylish.

Even as you think this, looking at him you know he doesn’t give a flying fuck what you’re wearing.

He leans down again, kissing you. He lets his weight rest just enough on you as he settles between your legs and you arch up at the dull contact.

As he bites down on your lip, you push up into him, searching for more.

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

“Please,” you gasp.

His hand comes down on your thigh, pushing you open just enough. And then, as he comes back to kiss you, he slips his hand down your stomach, fingers teasing at the waistband of your panties.

You can’t help as your hips buck up as he slips a finger down your folds. You’re already soaking, arousal quickly coating his finger.

“Shh, shh,” he whispers against your lips, gaze searching yours. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

As the final word slips out of his mouth, he inserts the first finger into your tight entrance and you yelp in pleasure, the feeling of him filling you more sensation than you could imagine. Ever so slowly, he begins to pump it in and out before adding a second finger.

“I want to get you ready for me,” he murmurs. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want it,” you gasp as he presses against your g spot. “Please, I need it, please, Jimin, fuck me.”

“Patience, baby. I will in due time. But first I need you a little more stretched out.”  

When he adds a third finger, the pressure building deliciously in your abdomen, there’s nothing you can do to hold back the way your body jerks or the whine that slips through your lips.

“God, I never even imagined you would sound this desperate, this beautiful.”

As he continues to press against the soft spongy spot inside you, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep control but quickly losing it.

“You thought about this?”

“Of course I thought about it.”

“Tell me what you thought about,” you pant, his fingers still working rhythmically in and out of you.

“The list is endless,” he murmurs. “I think about what it would feel like to fuck you. What it would sound like to have you call my name. What it would be like to have you cum again and again around my cock, and then walk out of here, with it dripping down your leg so that anyone who sees will know it too. To have you so fucked out and screaming that everyone in a ten mile radius knows exactly who is fucking you so well, who you belong to.”

“Ah!” you cry as your orgasm begins to build. “Jimin! I’m so close, I--”

And just like that, his fingers are gone from your clenching walls and you are left with a feeling of absolute emptiness drifting through you. He pulls back with a smirk.

“Wha--”

“When you come, I want it to be around my cock.”

Your gaze flickers down to his crotch, where his dick is straining against the tight confines of the leather. “That just can’t be comfortable,” you say, your voice shaking even as you unapologetically eye his obvious arousal. “Please take them off. I’ll make you feel good.”

“You can?”

“I want to,” you explain. “I want to help.” You look up at him again and see that his gaze is dark with desire. “Can I?”

Slowly, he nods, and you reach out towards him, for the buttons to his jeans. As your fingers land on the cold metal of the button, his come down atop yours, popping the button open expertly.

As you slowly slide the zipper down, you swallow.

Everything about this feels right. There’s the sensation of a fire burning in your chest. It’s not just wanting his body. It’s chasing the feeling of electricity sparking through you every time he touches you. Chasing the want of his hands, his gaze, his everything focused on you. Something twinges in your heart. Even as you want these things, you know it’s not fair to ask them of him, to expect them of him.

He stands to slip the rest of his pants off and you realize he’s not even wearing underwear. You gulp as you watch him strip, his beautiful body soon revealed in the dim lighting. His cock stands at full attention, deliciously hard and poking against his belly.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks.

“I want it more than anything.”

The bed dips underneath his weight as he climbs towards where you lay. He lowers himself above you, expertly balancing his weight so that it doesn’t crush you. With one hand, he reaches down to palm his hard cock, the tip red and angry with need. With his knee, he pushes your legs wide open, making room for himself and spreading you out before him. At a devastatingly slow speed, he lines himself up with your aching center.

“So wet for me, princess. You’ve always been beautiful to me, but spread out like this, just waiting for my cock? You’re a dream.”

“Please,” you gasp.

“Please what?”

As he comes to nestle his cock in between your dripping folds, you whimper with need.

All you can feel is his cock, his touch against your skin, the way his presence surrounds you and envelopes you.

“Please,” you whisper. “I need you, Jimin.”

He chuckles.

“You’re so desperate, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

“My baby wants me to fuck her?” He slides slowly in and your back arches devilishly at the sensation of his fat cock stretching you open for him. He watches your facial expression carefully, not wanting to hurt you or push you too far too fast.

When he sees you relax just a little, he pushes in even further until he’s nestled inside you to the hilt. Once he knows you’re comfortable, he lets himself slip into the pleasure of you wrapped all around him. His eyes flutter closed, and he nestles his nose into the crook of your neck.

Gathering himself, he takes a deep breath, pushing up off of you so that he can better look down at you, your hair splayed on the pillow, cheeks warm with arousal, eyes wide in pleasure.

“God, you’re perfect for my cock. Like you were made to fit me.”

“Mmf, so big,” you groan as he shifts inside you. “Never felt this full before.”

As he begins to move, you gasp, hands coming up to cling at his back. The drag of his cock against the walls of your cunt is divine and you can’t help as your nails dig into his skin, raking down the planes of his back.

His eyes never leave your face, tracing your pleasure every time it flashes across your features.

“When I imagined this,” he pants, “I never even thought it could feel this good.”

He withdraws at a maddeningly slow pace, until just the tip of his cock rests inside your warmth.

“Please Jimin,” you gasp. “I need more.”

He smirks down at you. “More?” He gives a shallow thrust.

“More,” you groan, trying to push your hips down on him, anything to take him further into you. However, his hand quickly comes down on your hips, stopping all movement.

Leaning down to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, you gasp into his mouth as he thrusts into you with a great force. You cry his name as he bites down on your lower lip, the pace he sets brutal and exactly what you need. Each thrust rolls through your entire body, setting your nerves alight. When he gives a particularly hard thrust, your spine arches, hands slipping away from his back and coming to wrap around his wrists.

When he growls, you clench at the sound.

Your eyes flicker open in time to see his mouth gape and he groans when you do it again.

He answers your tightness with another roll of his hips, this time changing the angle just enough that it hits your g spot directly. You spasm around his cock, crying out as he continues to fuck you.

“You’ve ruined me,” Jimin gasps. “Nothing else, no one else is going to be like this. I wanna fuck this cunt until you can’t think of anything else.”

You start to respond, to tell him how much you want that, but his hand comes down on your clit, rubbing just gently enough that you’re yelping in a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation.

“I’m really gonna fuck you now, baby. I want you to touch yourself until you can’t anymore, okay?”

You nod, reaching down to your clit where your fingers brush against one another. You look down to see his cock rutting in and out of you, coated in your juices. As he withdraws his hand, he begins to pick up his speed.

The pace he sets reaches deep into your body, setting every nerve alight. You cling to him, begging him to fuck you harder. His cock seems to reach every single sensitive spot within you as rock your hips back up to his, meeting his every movement. He lets you now, lost in the feeling of your bodies moving together, seeking the same pleasure together.

When his pace begins to stutter, thrusts becoming long and rough, you know he’s close to his end.

“Baby, I’m going to come,” he groans. He begins to sit back up and withdraw, but you wrap a hand around his neck and pull him towards you, the other one coming to press on the dip of his hips.

“Come inside, Jimin.”

“But--”

“I’m safe. I want to feel you come inside me. Wanna come with you.”

He groans at your words and lowers himself to you, letting his hips grind against yours in a tide of sensation. Each movement pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm until three words are tumbling from his lips and you are tipping over the edge.

He kisses you as you both ride out your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing through your body and into his as if you are connected on more than just a physical level. His lips are soft against yours, guiding you through your orgasm. Everything is breathless and wildly full, all at once.

Pulling back as his cock twitches within you, he peppers your neck with kisses, his plush lips pressing softly against the delicate skin beneath your ear.

“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I love you too,” you hum, eyes fluttering blissfully closed as you tangle a hand in his hair, pressing him closer to you.

That’s how you fall asleep. Tangled up in each other, bodies meshed together until there’s no way to tell which way is up.

You wake up wrapped in warmth. The kind of warmth that radiates from your heart, shining on outwards and into the room around you. And, as your eyes blink open, you notice it also radiates from the absolute furnace that clings to your back.

“Mmm,” the furnace grumbles, rubbing his nose against the soft nape of your neck. You can feel him press his lips against the top of your spine, his breath fanning delicately against your skin. “G’morning.”

“Morning.” You speak softly, as if any noise will break the memory of last night, his whispered affections against your skin as you drifted off to sleep still hanging in the air. Too loud and you will shatter and destroy the memory. The words of his confession still carved into your skin, your mixed pleasures riddled through your body, the song of his joy and laughter emblazoned into the room -- all of that, you think, will disappear if you move too quickly or speak too loudly.

However, that notion is quickly banished when Jimin rolls over and groans dramatically, spreading his limbs out until he starfishes over the entire bed -- including you. With a little grunt, he flips over on his belly, shimmying over to you. Pulling the blankets down around you, you gasp as the cool air hits your skin.

He’s quick to rectify this as he rolls onto you, resting his head on your stomach, blowing a raspberry into your skin. You screech in laughter and as the sensation rushes through you, tickling you.

It takes a minute or two before you calm down, looking lovingly down at the man who holds your heart and running a hand through his hair, brushing it off of his forehead.

“I love you, you know that?” he mumbles into your belly.

“Do you?” you giggle, doubt still riddled in your mind.

His eyes shoot up to yours.

“Of course I do. Is there any question about it?” You look down on him, worry in your gaze. “Oh, baby.” He’s quick to prop himself up on his hands, but still stays sprawled out atop you, his weight heavy and comforting. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you--” You open your mouth to tell him there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but his hand comes up quickly and covers your mouth, effectively shushing you. “--at least I knew I was going to love you the first time I saw you. I knew I was going to fall madly and deeply in love with all of your quirks and strange obsessions and deep passions and maddenly horrible humor. And I knew I loved you a year in, and every day after that.”

You look down on him, tears welling up in your eyes at his sincerity.

“Come ‘ere,” you say, pulling him up towards you. He crawls up your chest, playfully nipping at your bare breasts before settling against you. He kisses you. Lets you sink into the sensation. And then he pulls back and says,

“Aren’t you going to tell me you love me too?”

You don’t know if you’ll ever get enough of that dorky smile.

But you do know the tears threatening to spill over are rising from the deep, unnamable affection that rolls through your chest, finally released from silence. You want to call it love, and that is what you will call it, but there’s also something that goes so much deeper than the word itself. Something you know you will spend your whole life trying to explain to him.

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Taglist: @taestannie @thatlongspringnight @spicykoreantatertots​ @usuallynervoussheep​ @hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​@lucedelsole97​ @heichooou​ @jiminskth​

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[baronessblixen]

here's a prompt for you: mulder and scully watch a horror movie together and she ends up dreaming about it, which he finds funny but also really cute

Something warm and fluffy for Sunday night. Set around late season 6, early season 7. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2021

Wc: 1099

Fictober Day 17

Always Safe in Each Other's Arms

Case solved and wrapped, Mulder and Scully find themselves with a free night on their hands in the middle of nowhere, Ohio. Their flight home isn’t until noon the next day, but neither of them is in the mood to leave their motel rooms.

“Let’s order pizza,” Scully says, yawning. It may only be 7 pm but they’ve been up since the early hours of the morning. All she wants to do is eat something fatty and unhealthy before she sleeps for the next 12 hours.

“There’s a movie marathon on. Horror movies from the 70s. What do you say?” Mulder wiggles his eyebrows at her.

She gives him a weak but happy smile. “It’s a date.”

While waiting for their food, Scully disappears to her own motel room to change into her pajamas. She knows what they’re doing is unprofessional; they’re about to fraternize in Mulder’s motel room – and they will be in their pajamas.

This, of course, isn’t the first time. They’ve done this before, several times. Who cares about rules? Not Mulder, that’s for sure. After almost seven years as his partner, she cares much less about them, too.

“Cute pajamas,” Mulder remarks as he lets her back into his room. He’s wearing flannel pants and a t-shirt that she knows is for her sake; he sleeps without a shirt.

“Food came while you were gone.” He points at the pizza and Scully’s stomach grumbles. “Let’s get comfortable. The best thing about eating in a motel room is that it doesn’t matter when you get crumbs all over the bed.”

They get comfortable in the bed, the pizza box between them. “’The Omen’ just started,” Mulder says, reaching for a slice of pizza. “Followed by ‘Jaws’, ‘Carrie’ and your favorite: ‘The Exorcist’”. He grins at her, tomato sauce sticking to the corner of his mouth. She considers wiping it away, but his tongue is quicker. She blushes at her audacity and bites into her own pizza to distract herself.

At some point during ‘Carrie’, Scully struggles to keep her eyes open. The leftover pizza has been put away over an hour ago and ever since then, she and Mulder have drawn closer together. Their thighs are touching, and her head keeps rolling against Mulder’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” she apologizes once more, sitting upright.

“No need,” he says. “Glad my shoulder is comfortable.”

“I should head off to bed, it’s late.” Scully stretches and is acutely aware of Mulder’s eyes on her when her top rides up.

“You don’t want to watch ‘The Exorcist’?” Mulder’s disappointment is obvious.

“I want to,” she says and means it. “I’m just too tired. Good night.”

She sees something in Mulder’s face; he wants to say more, maybe ask something, but either doesn’t dare or doesn’t know how. He nods, pressing his lips together; the moment has passed.

“Night, Scully.”

She doesn’t know long she’s been asleep, but she startles awake, gasping. The room is bathed in inky darkness and the images from her dream – a nightmare, really – are slow to fade. A vivid combination of an army of demon children and killer sharks, both out to hurt her – and Mulder.

“Ridiculous,” she mumbles and closes her eyes again, trying to fall back asleep. But it’s useless. The images haunt her, become worse with every passing second.

Her heart is racing as if she were running. She gets up, shivering. Her vision is blurry as she leaves her motel room to knock on Mulder’s door. She doesn’t know what time it is and she can only hope she won’t wake him.

“Scully? Come on in. Is anything the matter?”

“What time it is?” She asks. The TV is still on, showing ‘The Exorcist’. “I woke up.”

“Was the TV too loud? I can turn it down.”

“No,” she says, hugging herself. “I just- I, um.”

“You had a nightmare?” He asks and gently rubs her back.

“Sort of,” she admits, feeling silly.

“From the movies?” His eyes are huge in surprise. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Dreams are influenced by a number of variables, Mulder,” she explains.

“What did you dream about then?” He asks, teasing.

“It doesn’t matter.” He chuckles. “Okay, maybe it was the movies. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“There’s no reason to be ashamed, Scully.”

“I know that. We face way worse every day. It doesn’t make sense. To be scared of- to have these movies invade my dreams.” She turns away from him, her arms still wrapped around herself. “I just- I didn’t want to be alone, I guess.”

“I’m right here. The bed is big enough for two.”

“We shouldn’t,” she says, glancing at the bed and back at Mulder. They never talk about it, about their ritual. Whenever one of them has nightmares on a case, they will crawl into each other’s beds, hold on tight, and share their pain. It’s never happened because of a few silly horror movies.

She shouldn’t be here. She should go back to her own room, rationalize her dreams, and go back to sleep. By herself. But then Mulder opens his arms and she’s drawn into them. Being held by Mulder calms her, his warmth seeping into her body, making her feel safe and loved.

“Who cares, Scully?” He murmurs into her hair. “And who will even know? There’s only us. I won’t judge you for being scared of horror movies.”

“I’m not,” she complains against his shoulder.

“Okay, you’re not. It’s normal, Scully. That’s all I’m saying.”

She nods, not trusting herself to speak. They make their way over to the bed, Mulder’s hand on her back. They each get on their sides and Mulder puts his arm around her, drawing her close, knowing she’s still reluctant to give in. She always is when she allows herself to seek solace in his arms.

“I can turn it off,” he says, motioning at the TV.

“Please don’t. I really like the movie.”

“Don’t want you to have nightmares again,” he says, kissing her temple softly. It’s the only affection they will allow themselves; kisses to temples, to cheeks or to the forehead. The lines at night are even more blurry, way harder to see, and they tread carefully.

Snuggling doesn’t count, Scully assures herself, as she puts her head on Mulder’s chest – because they won’t mention it. His heartbeat is strong but slow, placid. His body is warm, comfortable and she lets herself relax.

“Won’t have nightmares,” she mumbles, already half asleep. She knows she won’t have bad dreams, not while she’s in Mulder’s arms.

#fictober21 #me: today's fic is gonna be super short #the fic: hahaha #it's fluff time #the prompt is so old! #the person who sent is probably no longer even following me #but it finally spoke to me #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[morvantmortuary]

Hey legend if you did Maxi and sleeping/cuddling I would simply die from sheer joy 💖

(Awww I love any opportunity to talk about my first boy 🥰 18+ below the cut at one part lmao)

Maxi probably runs the warmest of the three Morvants, which is still slightly cool to the touch. But he still sleeps under a comforter with at least one fan on, if he has a choice. Which is fine, because he prefers to sleep around you as the big spoon (though if you wanted a turn he’s not about to complain, really - he probably needs held more than he realizes lmao).

He usually sleeps shirtless, and then just in boxers in the summer or in flannel pajama pants if it ever actually gets cold enough. Occasionally, he might wear a t-shirt - mostly when the two of you were first going out, and if you two are crashing somewhere away from home. It’s usually an old ripped up shirt from some band he listened to in high school or a terrible death pun shirt from when he was an apprentice, and every so often, maybe one of your sleep shirts he stole from you if it’s long enough.

(Though he has also been known to just straight up steal your favorites and then walk around with his stomach exposed the next day, if it’s just the two of you.)

(He will steal the skeleton hands crop top from your previous ask at least once bc he adores how ridiculous it looks on him.)

Maxi is nocturnal as hell, like the rest of his family. If he doesn’t have any early appointments, he’s inclined to naturally stay up until one or two, either hanging out with you or just getting things ready around the House for the next day. When he lived alone as the only living person in the House, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be switching the laundry at midnight and polishing the furniture in the client foyer or the viewing parlor while he listened to a playlist or a podcast or something. When he didn’t have any chores to do, he’d watch tv until he could finally sleep or do some cyberstalking of the House’s next meal.

Maxi sleeps like the dead. Like, dead-dead. Once he finally passes out (it takes him ages to fall asleep bc he’s always going over his to-do list in his head at night, especially if you aren’t there), he’ll stay in the same position for hours if nothing else comes to move him. When he actually relaxes, it’s like years of being exhausted and trying to keep his cover finally catch up to him. He doesn’t roll over unless he’s having the worst nightmare most restless dream, and even then, that’s maybe like, once a night.

That said, he can wake up fairly quickly if something disturbs him - it comes from when he was younger and being awoken unexpectedly by anything from Vincent irate that he wasn’t already down in the basement to help him prep a body, to Hector letting loose a pissed ghost of a downstairs victim by accident, to Rora coming and hiding under his bed when Mathilde wanted to take her out for mother/daughter bonding (tea with the nosy neighbor ladies from the HOA). Then when he was older and running the Mortuary alone, he was used to having to suddenly wake up and be coherent/competent if he gets the call about someone’s geriatric dad crosses the rainbow bridge in the middle of the night. Thus, if you get up to get a glass of water, or use the bathroom, he’s always going to wake up with you. He might not get up - especially early on, when he’s first feeling out how you work - but later on when you know Everything he might just follow you to the kitchen if you head that way, albeit half-asleep.

Mostly because man cuddles like a gator grips prey. If you head to the kitchen, no matter how sneaky you think you are, he’ll scare the shit out of you by following behind you and then resting his head on yours as you peek in the fridge, or hug your waist as you pour yourself a glass of water or juice or whatever. If you wanted to shove a bite of dinner roll or whatever snack you’re having in his mouth, he’d probably let you without argument. He’s determined to stay attached to you, or at least nearby, especially when he’s tired.

Part of this is a protection instinct - if he’s tired, he’s going to be more paranoid about you and your safety, even if you’re just in the House. There’s still some things in the House he can’t entirely control. No one can. He’s sleeps better when you’re with him - even just naps on the couch, and you’re working on your laptop or playing a handheld game or something nearby, he seems to actually sleep deeper. But especially at night, he’s going to want to keep you in close range, both so he can rest easier and so he can make sure nothing of the House or outside of it can hurt you.

Obviously, when you sleep at your own house, he respects your space!! If he has no reason to suspect something dark is lurking about, he’ll just sleep a little more restlessly at his place with his nose buried in a shirt of yours he kept the last time you stayed over. If he thinks there might be problems, however: a. if you Know Everything, he’d just tell you what’s happening and insist you stay with him or he comes and stays with you. He’ll even sleep in the guest room or on the couch, if you want space!! He just needs to be… close :’D (he absolutely might end up on your floor in the middle of the night, don’t worry about it) or b. if it’s early on and you don’t know everything, he’ll just… maybe seclude himself in aforementioned guest room (ignoring the ghost of Aunt Lula loudly hollering at him to leave the whole time) or, should the need arise, under your bed! Not to be weird, just! So he can keep you safe!! :’D Of course!

The other half of this need to keep you close is just… from a very, very long time of being alone. When the two of you first started going out, he would often wake up earlier than you and just watch you sleep, because he was always afraid you were going to have turned out to be an achingly lovely dream. Before he told you everything, he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for you to leave too. He’d dated people before who, even if he played the part perfectly and kept his cover, just sensed something was… off. Which it is. He won’t deny that. Wrongness is something that’s run in the family for centuries now. He thought he would just always end up either leaving people for their own safety or being left for the rest of his life… and then you stayed. Your warmth in the same bed as him as he falls asleep is the most welcome reminder he could ever want that he isn’t alone anymore, and he always gets a little anxious in the middle of the night if he can’t feel you there bc he worries on some level you were a dream after all

He’s used to waking up early for his job - he kind of needs to, even in a town as small as yours. But if you’re the sort who likes to sleep in, he’ll be determined to let you sleep while he showers and gets dressed, etc. He’ll bring you a cup of coffee (or tea, or whatever you prefer) to wake you when he’s about to take off/head to the prep room, and leave it on your nightstand with a kiss to your cheek. If you take morning meds, you can expect him to leave your dose out for you in a little plastic cup next to your drink of choice (with something small to eat if that helps you get them down).

On the rare days he does get to sleep in, he’s determined to spend the morning in bed with you, either cuddling as you both fall in and out of a doze or… other things

(Maxi adores morning sex ngl. There’s something about seeing you there with him and at your most naturally relaxed that he’s obsessed with. If you talked about it ahead of time and you were cool with it, he’d be more than happy to wake you some weekend mornings by sucking a bruise into your neck, or freeing your chest from your shirt to avail himself. He’d wait until you were more awake to do anything lower than that - but he’s absolutely the type to want to spend your first hour awake slowly filling you while you’re both still half-asleep, so the first thing you actually say that morning is his name as you clench around him and let go.)

He doesn’t talk in his sleep like Hector, but he does have the tiniest little kitten snore when he’s really exhausted, and it’s adorable 🖤

When you do finally wake up enough to come downstairs, if he’s not with a client family, he’d be more than happy to make you breakfast 🥰 If Hector stops hogging the kitchen, that is, but that’s another argument lmao

(This maybe runs a little long, but Maxi’s the one I’ve spent the longest with lmao 😂 Thanks for being kind enough to ask, darling, and sorry it took me a minute! ✨)

#nice people!! #lorna!! 🖤🥰 #maxi vibes #maxi morvant #maximilian vincent morvant #maxi morvant x you #morvant mortuary #monsterkisser fics #also look!! Sam made that gif!! 😃 how cool!!

[anon-rebel-writes]

Of Pink Fairies and Teenage Boys - 1

Hello everyone! I hope you are having a fantabulous day!

This concept is a little strange, but it gets better the more chapters come out! Hopefully the weirdness doesn’t freak anyone out too much XD

The idea was basically just Marinette being a fairy and Luka kinda being in love with how adorable she is. But now it’s a story about Marinette slowly helping him out with different aspects of his life.

I intended this story to be a slow burn, but I’m impatient so it’s going to be five chapters! :D

I hope you all enjoy this piece! It starts under the cut! Ao3 Link

The hot summer rays pierced into the porthole of his cabin. Light danced across his floor in a rich orange hue as the sun set for the day. The divider in the middle of the room was closed off as soft shuffling came from the other side of the wall.

Luka sat on his bed holding his guitar tightly in his hands - the knuckles turning white with from the pressure. His teeth were clenched and his jaw seemed tense. While this was far from normal, lately Luka was finding it hard to keep his usual calm demeanor.

School was officially out for the summer. Most kids were spending it at the pool or with friends, unfortunately Luka Couffaine was not most kids. He saw his mom working longer hours and coming home later than average. While Anarka wasn’t a woman to complain, he saw how not even her bright attitude could outshine the stress.

Luka decided to help out by taking on extra shifts at his delivery job. The money wasn’t crazy, but it could definitely help his mom out. At the end of the day, he just wanted to make her life easier, even if the extra work made his shoulders a little tighter.

His band, Kitty Section, also thought of increasing their practice times. His sister, Juleka, and their drummer, Ivan, wanted to change rehearsal from once a week, to twice a week. It seemed great for them since neither worked or had much to do during summer break, but Luka found himself worn thin from all the extra playing.

Even now, he found himself cringing slightly at the guitar in his hands. When did music become such a chore? All these thoughts continued to plague his mind as his left hand silently fingered different riffs and notes while his right hand merely tapped along the body of the instrument. It wasn’t hard to see that Luka was in a funk. Usually a bit of meditating would help him relax, but miniature distractions always seemed to pull him out of it. They tended to come from his sister, since she usually sat across from his side of the room.

But Luka didn’t want to blame her, it wasn’t her fault. Luka found himself easier to blame. She was just trying to enjoy her free time, it was summer after all. Yet every time she faintly hummed a tune or tapped her desk, he found himself tensing up and feeling frustrated.

The light outside finally left his room and soft snores were heard through the barrier. He barely felt himself moving as he placed the guitar back on its rack. A shaky breath left him as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. Nothing was working anymore, time seemed to drag on and yet move so fast. When was the last time he worked on his hair? The strands covered his eyes more each day with the blue dye slowly growing out.

He quietly moved off of his bed to change into something more comfortable for sleep. Luka threw on an old band shirt and some red flannel pajama pants. But staring back at his bed, he felt restless. The corners of his eyes felt watery and he held his arms tightly.

Luka didn’t regret any of the stress. He was doing it for his family. It didn’t matter how exhausted he was after riding his bike all day. It didn’t matter that he could barely keep his eyes open during band practice. The only thing that mattered was that he was helping them.

He took a deep breath before trying to shake off the negative feelings. As Luka moved across his cabin towards the bed, the porthole next to his bed swung open, letting in a huge gust of wind. He instinctively tried to shield himself from anything that could fly inside, but nothing but warm air filled the room. After the initial shock, he moved over to the window and closed it tightly again. He looked over at the divider and listened carefully to make sure Juleka didn’t awaken.

Muffled snoring continued to sound out behind the barrier and he felt a small wave of relief flush over him before a soft voice whispered in his left ear, “Wow you look just like your picture.”

At least Juleka was a heavy sleeper so she couldn’t hear the girlish shriek that came from him. Luka jumped away from the voice, falling onto the ground next to his amp. His head turned towards the source of the voice and he saw a little bug flying where his ear was. But it wasn’t a bug, it was a lot larger than a typical bug. Squinting his eyes, he saw that the ‘bug’ looked like a human girl with wings.

“What. The hell.”

The little flying girl attempted to move towards him, but seeing as Luka cowered into the corner of the room in fear, she stopped herself. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m such a klutz, I don’t wanna mess this up already…”

Luka’s eyes were popping out of his head as he stared at her, trying to rack his brain around whether he had passed out earlier and just forgot. He was tired after work today, surely this must all be a dream. But the little fluttering person continued to ramble, the more she talked, the more Luka realized that this may be real. The bug-person-girl was speaking about an assignment, but then she started waving her arms around, gesturing to him and then her. Luka honestly tried to focus on her words, but her wings were loud and the buzzing sound grabbed his full attention.

“-So that’s basically the situation. Do you understand, Monsieur Couffaine?”

He definitely heard that. How did she know his name already? The girl saw his disoriented expression and sighed, “You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” He nodded his head and attempted to shuffle closer to his bed, trying to find anything to ground himself.

The girl slowly moved towards him as he finally sat back on the soft surface of his bed. Sitting there was supposed to help him back to reality, but the fabric definitely felt real and not like something he’d feel in a dream. His stomach was knotting and suddenly he felt lightheaded. The flying girl-person-bug perched herself on his guitar and waited for him to settle down. After pinching himself a couple of times to make sure he was awake, he nodded over to her. She gave him a big smile and lifted a hand to him.

“I’m Marinette, your own personal fairy!”

Luka leaned towards her with a finger held out to shake her hand back. Now that he was closer, he could see her a lot better. The girl, Marinette, was surrounded in a soft pink glow. She wore a dress made from varying hues of pink petals. The dress was pulled together on her waist by a small string that tied into a bow behind her. Her hair pulled back into a bun on the top of her head, also tied with string. He squinted and saw that she actually had little feet, and those feet had toes. Which was a very strange thing to be amazed by, considering that she just told him she was a fairy.

In all honesty, despite the strange scenario, Luka found his face burning at her adorable outfit. Which was also a strange thing to think about, because she just told him she was a fairy. “Okay, wow. I have like- a million things going through my mind right now. I’m gonna need a minute-”

A loud snore echoed through the room, interrupting his words. Marinette let go of his finger and both of them went rigid. After what felt like an eternity of waiting to see any signs of Juleka waking up, the fairy flew towards Luka’s face to bring his attention back to her. “Wow. Your sister’s a deep sleeper! Even after your girly scream!” Luka should totally be offended. He should be, but honestly his ego was the least of his concerns.

“Yeah, Jules...she’s good at- I guess- sleeping? I’m sorry, I can’t really focus on her when you’re literally a fairy.”

Marinette let out a soft laugh that oddly sounded sweet, chirpy, and cute. Wait, why was he thinking she was cute?! Not cute. She was not cute. Even if her cheeks were rosy and her hair looked soft and- oh my god why is he thinking like this.

“Well, I guess I should re-explain myself, right? I’m a fairy. We are magical beings here to help humans out when they feel sad. Every fairy is assigned a human to watch over and take care of. After the human is happy again, we wipe our existence from their mind and they go on with their lives. Sounds like a good deal, right?”

While in theory that made sense (honestly it didn’t because up until this point Luka was one-hundred percent sure that fairies weren’t real), he couldn’t help but feel mystified. “Okay...I have so many questions.”

Another chirpy (and cute) giggle came from her and she landed next to him on his bed. “Lucky for you, I may have some answers!”

Luka slowly nodded his head as he watched her walk around his blanket. She honestly couldn’t have been longer than the length of his hand, so seeing her move around really gave him odd feelings, more so than before. “So...Fairies are real?”

Marinette laughed again as she began climbing on his lap. “Yup! We used to roam around in the open, but some awful humans began using us for our magic. Now we hide ourselves and help humans secretly!” Luka looked down at the fairy and saw she began rubbing herself around the hem of his shirt. This was definitely strange. Even if this happened to be a dream, he probably shouldn’t be imagining a fairy rubbing her face against his stomach, right? “Uh- What’re you doing?”

She met his eyes and flew up to his face again. “Sorry, it’s just been so long since I felt such nice fabric. I’ve always wanted to wear cute clothes like you humans do! Your shirt is so soft!”

Not only was he stuck with a mythical creature, but he was stuck with a cute one that happened to enjoy rubbing her face on him. Trying to push any weird thoughts out of his mind, Luka nodded his head and tried to look anywhere else but her. She seemed to sense his uncomfortable aura because she backed away from him and sat on the edge of his porthole. “Why don’t you go to bed, Monsieur Couffaine. I’ll answer all your questions in the morning, okay? A good night’s rest will help get your brain back in working condition!”

Luka looked at Marinette and saw her illuminated by her pink glow and the moonlight. His heart felt like her wings for a moment, but he shook his head to get rid of any strange feelings and stood up. Marinette watched his movements as he walked towards his dresser again and grabbed his blue hoodie.

Her head tilted to the side as she watched him fold it into a small bundle. He walked towards his bed and laid the hoodie onto his amp. Luka looked down timidly at the floor in an effort to avoid her gaze. “I just- I thought a hoodie might be nicer than the window.”

Marinette gave him a soft smile and fluttered back over to his head. She pressed her face into his cheek and then dove into the makeshift bed.

This had to have been a dream. There was no way a fairy just kissed his cheek. Luka found himself a bit dazed at her gesture, so he decided to lay on his bed to try and get some rest. Although with all the adrenaline coursing through his body, he doubted he would sleep for the next week.

At least that’s what he thought before strange dust appeared over his head and his eyes suddenly felt heavier. He glanced over at the nightstand and saw the fairy’s hands twirling in the air out of the hoodie, producing the dust that fell over him.

While this could all be a hallucination due to the lack of sleep he’s been getting lately, he found himself faintly longing for this to not be a dream. A tiny part of him wanted to believe that this could actually be real. But all those thoughts were for tomorrow, right now his body was focused on finally pulling him into slumber. For the first time in a while, Luka found himself peacefully sleeping with a tiny part of him excited for tomorrow.

#pro lukamari #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fairy au #chapter 1 #ao3 #slow burn #but not really because I'm impatient #of pink fairies and teenage boys

[emu-lumberjack]

Don’t Answer the Phone Tired pt. 2

It’s the next day and Damian has gotten even less sleep, thankfully he’s not too tired after a some surprise news shocks him awake.

———————————-

Hey guys here’s the sequel everyone was super excited for. I really hope y'all like it, I definitely wrote it tired, but it should be coherent. 

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

Read part 4 here

Read part 5 here

He really needed coffee, especially after dealing with his brothers after they found out about Marinette. The youngest Wayne was up till four yelling at them to lay off, among more colorful terms, everyone time they called. He would’ve just ignored them but he knew that ignoring them would just wind up with him getting a surprise visit sooner than later. The fresh Parisian air felt good against his face as he stood on his balcony.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair!” Marinette's voice called from the street.

“Only if the prince is willing to protect me from my aggravating brothers!” He cracked a smile as he shouted back.

“Alas I cannot do that, but would my damsel take this as a reward?” She held up a purple travel mug and a bag filled with a croissant.

“I think I could take that deal. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He ran inside to grab his bag and throw on some day clothes before meeting Marinette.

“Have I mentioned you’re the best girlfriend? Because you’re the best girlfriend.” Damian said walking up to Marinette.

“You could stand to mention it more.” The bluenette replied handing him his promised coffee and croissant. He gulped down the coffee barely taking a breath until Marinette laughed and said, “Slow down there, you won't have any time to savor any of it.”

“If you want to stay up late dealing with my brothers, please be my guest but if not,” He gestured with his cup, “I’m gonna drink as fast as I want to.” Marinette nodded to that.

“Was it that bad last night after you left?”

“By bad do you mean each one of was trying to call me every five minutes out of ‘concern’ for my health or to check to make sure I hadn’t kidnapped you.” Marinette laughed again. “Anyway if I didn’t talk to them at all they probably would’ve hopped on the first flight they could to see what’s going on.” They stopped at the light, when Damian turned to look at Marinette he noticed she was avoiding his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about my brothers. Would you Angel?”

“Well, I might have gotten a text from Aurore to keep you away from school because three older guys had come and were asking around for you. One of them was half asleep and she couldn’t figure out how he was functional.”

Damian paled, after a moment he said “And why then are we going to school, I personally want to get as far away from them as possible.”

“She sent me a follow up saying to get there as fast as possible. Lila told her lie in front of the wrong person and, well I’ll show you the video.” Marinette handed her phone to Damian who hit play on the video that was up.

The forms of Grayson, Todd and Drake half asleep leaning on Jason. A voice came from off screen saying,

“Girl I can’t believe Tim’s not taking you to the Wayne Gala.” Alya, Damian thought. She was beginning to walk into frame with someone else. He knew who she was before she spoke.

“I know right. It’s just why would he invite someone else!” There in all her demonic glory stood Lila Rossi, not yet realising who she was walking next to.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you talking about Tim Drake? Adopted son of Bruce Wayne?” Grayson asked innocently. Damian knew that voice, it was the same one he used when he was going to demolish someone. “Well yeah. He’s her boyfriend, who are you anyway? Why do you care?” Alya was immediately there to be Lila’s guard dog.

“Well my name is Richard Grayson-Wayne. Tim’s brother and Bruce's son. I care because unless he’s as good at keeping secrets as Damian is, which he’s not, then he isn’t dating this girl.” Alya paled, the camera zoomed in on Lila’s face. She looked like she was about to be sick

“Huh? I heard my name.” Drake, who was in a rare moment of lucidness, looked at Dick.

“Are you pulling a Damian and secretly dating a girl in France?” Todd still Drake’s support was glaring at Lila.

“What?! Are you kidding me? No!” Drake looked like he was just hit with a cement slab.

“What are you talking about obviously you’re dating Lila! Stop Lying! I bet you're not even the real Tim Drake.” Alya was shouting now drawing crowds from around the courtyard. Drake looked at Grayson confused.

“She does realize that we can sue her if she’s really telling these types of lies right? Like she can’t be doing that.” Tim stood in front of Dick and turned his back to the paled liar and fuming reporter

“Oh leave Lila alone!” Alya came towards Drake and shoved him into Grayson.

“That does it.” Todd who had moved off to the side started walking towards the brunette rolling up his sleeves. Grayson and Todd recovered quickly, and moved to hold Todd back.

“We should get there before Todd kills them.” He said calmly before handing the phone back to Marinette. “Otherwise we won’t be able to take her down ourselves.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

In no time the duo were walking up the steps of Françoise Dupont where the sounds of shouts could be heard. The scene they entered was somehow more chaotic then the one Aurore had sent in the video. Todd was hanging upside down, the rope leading up around the handrails on the second floor then back down to a corner of the courtyard. Drake was on the bench snoring softly with his head almost touching the floor. Dick was on the phone, presumably with some lawyers. The entire bottom courtyard of the school was littered with papers and balloons were strewn about. Lila was nowhere to be seen.

“It looks like they’ve taken care of the situation, and they haven’t spotted us yet so I’m just gonna…” Damian began.

“There he is! Demonspawn, finally I thought you’d never get here.” Jason interrupted. He had spun around and caught sight of Damian and Marinette walking in. Dick turned around at the sound of Jason’s voice before saying “Yeah Duke I’ll have to call you back, but we need to sort this Lila stuff out.” He put his phone away before walking over to a corner of the building where he took out his knife and slashed a piece of rope. Jason came crashing down.

“A little warning next time Dick.” Jason said brushing off some dust that had settled on his tan leather jacket. Each one of them were dressed in their civilian clothing. Dick had on a pair of blue jeans with a grey t-shirt paired with some black sneakers. Jason was wearing his usual jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket combo. Drake was in some weird form of pajama and day clothes mixing a graphic T-shirt and red flannel with grey sweatpants and slippers.

“Now I know that we have to be dreaming. Demonspawn is actually wearing a sweatshirt. I don’t even think Alfred could get him to do that.” Damian had run out once he heard Marinette’s voice that morning so he had just thrown on a pair of pants, a shirt and a sweatshirt barely thinking about it. He had become relaxed in Paris.

“What the hell are you guys doing here.” Damian’s face was quickly beginning to match a tomato in color and he was backing out of the entryway.

“Well obviously we had to come and see you, and meet your girlfriend.” Dick who had walked over to Marinette grabbed her hand and shook it. “My name’s Dick, the grumbling menace over there is Jason. The one currently passed out is Tim, nice to meet you, uh”

“Marinette.” She supplied. “I also have to thank you for taking care of a certain person, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of her for a year.”

“Oh it was no problem at all, especially after she claimed she was dating Tim.” Damian quickly interrupted the two with a few well placed coughs. “I don’t mean to cut this short Grayson but we have to be getting to class.”

“Oh don’t worry. Bruce already called you out for the day, and Marinette I’m sure you can miss one day of school.” Jason said walking up behind Marinette.

“As much as I’d love to, I have two tests today. I’ll be happy to meet up with you afterwards though.” Damian’s eyes widened as the words sunk in and he realized what that meant for him.

“Please don’t leave me alone with them.” He looked at Marinette pleadingly.

“You’re gonna have to tell us how you got him to say please, it took Alfred a month to do that.” Jason remarked.

“Maybe another time, now I’ve gotta get to class.” She gave one look at Damian and there was laughter in her eyes.

“I hate you.” He said.

“No you don’t.” She called back, disappearing around the corner.

“So how bout we wake up Timmy and go get breakfast. I for one am famished.” Jason came up and put a hand on Damians shoulder.

“Ya know that doesn’t sound so bad Jason. Then Damian can tell us all about Paris, and the people he’s met.” Dick stood in front of Damians glare gleefully looking at Jason.

“I will kill you both and Father will never be able to find your bodies.”

“Yeah but then Marinette will be disappointed. For some reason she gives off the ‘thou shall not kill’ vibe.” Grayson said. “Now how are we gonna wake Tim up.”

“Oh I’ll  take care of it.” Damian said grabbing his Ice filled water bottle.

 Tag List: 

@ur-average-reader @kristycocopop @k-laconia-bug1 @smolplantmum @dast218 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @acoursedprophetwithasmothie @g-arya @loysydark @mewwitch @itsemeanne @hauntedstudent99 @clumsy-owl-4178

#Maribat #Damianette #damienette #marinette x damian #marinette dupain-cheng #Lila salt #alya salt

[winterscaptain]

whole.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

a/n: this is a little somethin for @icantswimhalp​. i hope it can bring you a little peace and joy!  additionally, we’re celebrating my blog’s 8th birthday this week, so come say hi, drop a line or a request, or generally pester me! here are some prompts if you’d like :) 

rating: g, no warnings apply word count: 1309 (i cant do anything less than a thousand, sue me)

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open! 

+++

It was an embarrassingly late hour, and you were still tossing and turning. You checked your phone.

3:18am

Goddamn it.

You knew there was only one person who could make you feel better, and he was long asleep (or at least you hoped he was).

Giving in, you dialed the number and held your phone to your ear, your fingers pressed to the bridge of your nose.

“Hotchner,” came the gravelly answer.

“Hi, it’s me.” Your voice was small. “I’m having a really bad night. I can’t sleep.”

You could hear his small smile through the phone. “Come on over.”

A thirty-five-minute drive found you on the Hotchner’s porch, still in your pajamas with your favorite pillow tucked under your arm. You knew better than to knock at this hour, so you sent a text.

Here xo

The door opened only seconds later, and you were greeted by the breathtaking sight of Hotch in his soft grey crew neck and flannel pajama pants. He stepped back and let you into the warm house.

After he closed the door, he gathered you up, your arms slipping around his waist and his around your shoulders. Tucked into him, you could breathe a little easier.

“Can I see him?”

Aaron leaned back and looked into your eyes. The blue light from the windows made his eyes so much darker than they were in the daytime, and his hair was sleep-tousled and soft.

“He’s in his room.”

You left the circle of Aaron’s arms, threw your pillow and phone on the couch, and padded down the hallway. The door was open, the soft yellow cast of Jack’s nightlight falling at your feet. His white noise machine chugged away, underscored by the sound of Jack’s soft breath.

Aaron trailed behind you, giving you the space you needed.

Jack stirred a little when you knelt next to his bed and rested your cheek on his mattress.

It was enough for you to just see him – safe and sleeping – to soothe you. He’d always had that effect on you. The first afternoon you stopped by to help Haley seven months after he was born, Jack captured your heart. You two had only grown closer through the years.

Two brown eyes opened a sliver. A smile crossed his face before his eyes closed again.

“It’s okay, baby,” you whispered.

“Did you have another bad dream?” He whispered back, just as quietly.

“Yeah.” You told him a few months ago, after he experienced his own bought of nightmares, that it was always okay to find people that made you feel better after a bad dream.

He scooted closer to the edge of the bed, eyes still closed, and placed a hand on the side of your head. You were almost nose to nose. A few tears slipped out of your eyes, tracing their way down your cheek and onto his superhero sheets.

You synced your breathing with Jack’s as he fell deeper back into sleep, holding his little hand to your temple.

When you finally stood and made your way to the familiar shadow leaning against the doorframe, it was nearly five in the morning.

Aaron looked a little more awake than when he answered the door, and somehow more at peace. You didn’t see the fondness in his eyes as he watched his son breathe peace into you as he slept, but it was there.

He took your hand and led you to his bedroom. You paused at the door, and your fingers slipped a little from his grasp.

Usually, you landed on the couch in the living room, where Aaron sat with you until you fell asleep. This was new.

“Stay with me tonight,” he said, lacing your fingers together.

“Really?”

He nodded and walked back into the bedroom until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Sitting down, he held on to both of your hands in the space between your bodies.

“I think we’ll both sleep better in here, don’t you?”

A smile threatened at the corners of your mouth. “Aaron Hotchner are you flirting with me?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a wry smile. “Is it working?”

You stepped forward, laughing lightly and resting between his knees. He brought your hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles. You dropped your cheek to his hair. “How do you do it?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you always manage to make me smile?”

He shrugged. “You’re important to me. You’re important to my son.” He leaned back and captured your eyes. “We love you,” he said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

....And there were the tears again.

“Aaron,” you said. There were so many things you wanted to voice, but you settled for the silence.

He released your hands and brushed your tears away with his fingers. You took a step back as he stood, pulling the covers back on the untouched side of the bed.

The sheets were cool and soft as you slid between them. You curled up, facing Aaron’s side of the bed, still rumpled. He stood at his nightstand for a moment, doing something on his phone.

When your phone buzzed on the nightstand behind you, you belatedly realized your head was on your favorite pillow from home and your phone was plugged in and set for the night. You reached for it and saw a text from Aaron.

Aaron 👔 5:06am Late start today, barring urgent case notification. Report at 1pm. Enjoy your morning.

You turned to look at him as he tucked into bed beside you.

“You need your sleep. I made an executive decision,” he said. He smiled at you in the dark. “I also don’t want to face the wrath of my son if we leave for work without having breakfast with him.”

You shuffled closer to him, and he tucked you into his chest. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

His laugh reverberates through you. “Definitely not.”

There’s silence as you both settled against each other - your head pillowed on his arm as it wrapped around your back, legs tangled together, your hand resting on his chest. The clock ticked away on the wall and the whir of Jack’s white noise machine floated down the hall.

It wasn’t as if you and Aaron weren’t physically affectionate with each other – you’d spent many nights with Jack on your lap, the both of you tucked under Aaron’s arm, watching movies. This though? The feeling of his arms around you and the smell of him surrounding you in his bed? It was new, special.

Peaceful. Quiet. Safe.

“Aaron?”

“Mhmm?”

“Thank you.”

He sighed and kissed the top of your head. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.” You played with the soft fabric of his shirt under your fingers.

“You don’t need the excuse of a sleepless night to come spend time with us, you know. Or even to spend the night.”

You mumbled something that sounded like “Damn profilers” and Aaron laughed quietly.

“I - we,” he amended, “would really like it if you were here more often. As much as you want,” he continued.

Your heart rate picked up, and you were sure he could feel it. “I would really like that, too.”

When you tipped your head up to look at him, you very nearly startled when you saw how close his face was. His eyes were soft as he brushed some hair off your face.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked, echoing his question from earlier.

“Always.”

You smiled as he parroted your words. “You are the only person who can make me feel safe enough to sleep.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and tucked you back under his chin. “Good.”

Your sleep was dreamless, for once, and your heart was whole.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrry-ixn @agenthotchner @happyhotchner @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby (hi, new friends!)

send your requests or come say hi!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch #criminal minds #tali writes fanfiction #eighth birthday celebration

[g0ldengubler]

chapter 7~instant crush

A/N: aaaaaa this chapter is so/so???? i guess it gets better at the end??? idk, i’m starting to get back into that “i’m not a good writer” mindset that i was in at the beginning of nauseous. i’m hoping to start writing another chapter super soon! i’m just stuck in rut and it’s showing in the chapters. i’ll work harder to make them better, but no promises. also listen to the song that the chapter was named after here. it’s literally one of my all time favorite songs on the planet lol. ok, i apologize in advance but i hope u still enjoy :)

Category: fluff

CW: smoking weed, mentions of toys and smoking tools and pieces

Word Count: 2680

before you read | last chapter | next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like days, you and Spencer had finally made it to your father's cabin. You hadn't been up north in years, all because you were so focused on getting your dream job. Driving down a dirt road, the smell of the trees mixed with rain had you feeling nostalgic, triggering memories of when you were a little girl, reading Charles Dickens under a tree or on the rocky shores of the lake. You couldn't wait to share these new memories here with him.

When you arrived in Michigan, you made sure you got all of your favorite goodies like Better Maid potato chips, Faygo's Rock'n'Rye, Vernors ginger ale, Superman ice cream, and you even made Spencer stop at your favorite pizza place, Buddy's, so you could get your favorite salad and a cheese pizza with light sauce and a crispy crust. He chuckled at how plain you like your pizza, but it was something you and your grandmother shared a loved for. You wanted Spencer to have as close to the Michigan experience he could because while you weren't in love with your home state, the small things you grew up with gave you joy.

The last errand you made before moving up north was to a dispo in Ann Arbor. Spencer couldn't go in with you, so you left him in the car (even though you wanted him to come in with you, he didn't have his card so it wouldn't work). Walking in, you showed the security guard your med card and continued your way through the store. Jars of bud covered the shelves on the wall. Glass showcases were filled with wax. Each strain (no matter what form) had labels in front of them, giving information about it and what it could do to help with any specific problem like joint pains or body spasms. You never really had a preference on what strain was best, nor got too picky if it was an indica, sativa, or hybrid.

You talked with a staff member and asked what they suggested. You ended up getting some Cherry Pie flower, joint papers, hemp blunt wraps, and a mini bbq lighter. Once you grabbed the goods, you headed out to suddenly notice a store that was at the outdoor mall next door. A smile grew on your face as you ran back to the car, set your bag down behind your seat, and grabbing Spencer by his hand and pulled him with you to the mall.

"Silly girl, I thought we were done with the errands?" He asked.

"One more stop," you said eagerly, "I promise. Plus, I think you'll get a little kick out of it."

A small building appeared as you made him stop in front of it. You saw him look up at the sign, looking a little confused. "There's a store with the same name as me?"

"Wait till you get inside." You giggled.

Those who weren't familiar with the store would think it was an edgier Hot Topic, but once you showed him what was in the back of Spencer's, you saw his jaw drop and couldn't hold in the laugh that was brewing in your throat. "Told you you'd get a little kick out of it."

"Well I thought you meant because of the fact it's called Spencer's, not because of all the...toys...they have."

"Are you getting ideas, Doctor?"

He straightened himself out and fixed his sweater. "I cannot confirm, nor deny your question."

"Dr.Spencer Reid," you giggled, slapping his arm softly, "naughty boy."

"Are you getting idea's, Agent L/N?"

You were quiet for a moment. "...maybe." you mumbled.

Spencer just laughs at the little banter you just had. "Let's save it for when we're home. It'll give me time to really think about it."

As you're left there speechless, your clouded mind is interrupted by the look on his face as he looks at the dick shaped candy they had.

"Ok, ok," you giggled, "let me go find what I'm looking for and then my errands are done. I'm ready to just sit back on the couch, put a fire on, and relax."

From there you went to the middle of the store, where you grabbed a green rolling tray with a panda on his back smoking a joint, a hot pink grinder, and a game controller ashtray before going up to the cashier to pay. You then headed back to the car and headed off to the cabin.

The cabin hadn't changed a bit, with its Christmas lights still hung and the skeleton that was sitting on the porch chair. You thought maybe your dad did all this while you two were on your way, but whatever the reason, you could tell that Spencer was already in love with it once he saw the skeleton. You forgot how big the cabin was. It wasn't small like a fairy's cottage, but you could say it was smaller than Rossi's mansion.

The smell of pine needles and fire smoke filled your head with nostalgia as you entered. You dropped your bags and plopped on the couch. You felt at home, and with Spencer, the feeling was stronger than you could've ever felt. You let out a big sigh, smiling as you hold one of the couch pillows to your chest.

"If your father built this cabin, he's the genius not me." Spencer joked as he moved your legs over so he could sit down next to you. He let your legs rest on his lap, rubbing your legs awkwardly, giving you that awkward white guy smile.

"How about you put the bags in the bedroom and then we'll go exploring," you said as you adjusted your position, using the armrest as support, "I haven't been here in years and I'm feeling very nostalgic."

"Sounds like a plan!...um..." Spencer looks around the living room, trying to find the bedroom.

"Oh, sorry! It's straight down that hall on your left." You pointed over to the hallway next to him. Once he saw the open doors to the bedroom he grabbed your bags and sat them down. You got up as he walked to the room and started exploring. You started in the kitchen, looking back on the times you'd bake the most gooey chocolate chip cookies as your dad cooked the family stew. Your father always had a hobby for making food, didn't matter if it was a meaty dish or a beautiful dessert. You thought nothing could beat your father's cooking, and that became especially true when you went to college.

As you were walking to the hall, you noticed Spencer admire the artwork that was hanging on the walls. "Did you know that the first log cabins that were built in America were emigrants from Sweden and Finland?" He asked. "They had been building them for 1,000 years, prior to coming here."

"That's very interesting," you said loudly as I walked to my old room, "I didn't know that." Something you always loved was to listen to people talk. Spencer was known for rambling about something when he should've been keeping it case related. He'd start off with giving them what they wanted to know, but then get so excited that he kept going on. It was something you did, too, but only around those you were comfortable around and that was very rare.

As he continued to ramble facts about the paintings, you looked around the familiar room that felt a bit distant. Your dad had turned your old room into an office. All the bright lilac walls had turned to gray, and your bed with a matching white desk were replaced with a black leather couch and a black, very sophisticated desk. Pictures of the two of you mixed with Red Wing merchandise hung on the walls and sat at his desk.

"Uuuuhh, Y/N?" Spencer called, "you might want to see this!

With a confused look on your face, you walked out of the office and back out to the living room where you see him hold a ziplock bag. Inside was a small stash of something similar that you bought that day.

"Where did you find all that weed?" you asked.

"I was looking at the books on this bookcase and as I took one out to explore further, this fell out with it."

You start exploring on your own. It had to be here. It'd make complete sense.

"What are you looking for?"

You ignore him for a moment before finding it. That son of a bitch.

You show Spencer the glass piece you found, the light in the room making its blue accent glow.

"Is that a erlenmeyer flask?" He asked, looking puzzled.

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "You're cute," you said, "but no, it's a bong! My dad's a sneaker bastard. I never knew he smoked-" you stopped in your tracks for a moment, thinking. "...I don't know how I feel about that information."

Spencer chuckles as you go through your mini life crisis. You notice his eyes then move in different directions. It took you a minute to realize what he was looking at. He would look at you, then look at the bong, then at the bag of weed, and continue the cycle. A grin fell upon your face, making Spencer grin a evil, yet goofy smile.

"Let's get comfortable first," you propose, "I'll heat up our pizza's and grab the salads, you grab the rock'n'rye and then we'll get to smokiiin."

Without a second thought, the two of you rushed to get into pajamas. You both had decided that Christmas pajamas was the way to go with how cold it was going to be. Coming out of the bedroom as Spencer came out of the bathroom, you both laugh at the fact that you pretty much had the same theme going. While Spencer was wearing a red long sleeve with the vintage coke'a'cola Santa Clause, you wore a white fitted shirt with the coke's'cola polar bears on it. Your pants were pretty much the same red and black checkered flannels, but while Spencer wore just regular slippers, you had on Rudolph the red nose reindeer fuzzy socks.

After heating up the pizza and pouring the drinks, your grab your food and went for the couch. You sat it on the coffee table in front of you before grabbing the bong, along with the bag and your grinder. As you began to grind the flower, you looked over to Spencer, who seemed to be really loving the pop through the nervousness on his face.

"Are you sure you want to try smoking out of a bong, Spence?" you asked, "Because you don't have to if you're too nervous."

"No no, I do want to! I'm just getting excited that's all."

"You're ok with your mouth being on the same place mine has?"

He was quiet for a moment. "No spit will be on this," you explain, taking the look on his face as a maybe, "but we have our napkins if you want to wipe."

"Ok, good!" He sighed out of relief.

Once the bud was grounded, you took some out with your fingers and packed it in the bowl, rubbing your fingers together to get some of the sticky stuff off. You then put on some music from you groovy playlist on your phone, connecting it to the bluetooth speakers that surrounded the room.

As you put your mouth on the top, lighting the bowl, you move the flame over half of it, letting Spencer have the other half. You felt eyes burning on you as you took the bowl out and inhaled. You held the smoke in your lungs for a few moments before a cloud formed in front of your face.

You handed the bong and lighter to Spencer, showing him what to do. You reminded him to inhale as he held the flame to the bowl. You watch as he did exactly what you did, copying your movements from memory. When he exhaled, the cloud of smoke was a bit bigger than yours was, you were shocked that he didn't have a coughing fit afterward.

He sat it down on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, letting the sensations take over his body. You grabbed the bong again and took another hit, handing it to Spencer afterward. He surprisingly took it from your hands and took another rip. You ended up doing this a few more times until your grinder was empty. You took the last bong rip, setting it back down and slouched on the couch.

By this time, the munchies had kicked in. You both devoured your dinner in a matter of minutes. But the tingles slowly left your body once you finished, so you grabbed the bong and your grinder again. This time, you took the bottom part off, looking at the leftover bits of the bud that turned into almost a powder form. You then grabbed your bag from the dispo that was sitting on the table next to you, and grabbed the flower you had bought. You took the cherry pie bud out of its container and ground it up.

You looked over to Spencer, who was just feeling the music. He looked very much relaxed, staring at the ceiling fan that hung above them.

After taking a huge rip from the bong, you coughed out a bit as you sat it back down. Without even realizing, you sneaked your way under his arm, laying your head on his chest. He put his arms around you, letting you snuggle into him.

With the light of the moon now being your only source of light, and the song Instant Crush playing in the background, you felt safe in his arms. Nothing could've ruined this moment. All you wanted was him and him alone.

"You're like a beautiful dragon, Y/N." You heard Spencer say.

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. "What do you mean by that?"

"When you exhaled. When I exhaled, even. We were like dragons blowing fire. It was so cool."

He was definitely gone, it was pretty obvious. But hearing him babble on and on about being dragons made you smile and giggle. It was contagious, making Spencer giggle with you, and then you couldn't stop. Your stomach and cheeks were hurting at this point.

Once the giggling calmed down, you looked up at him, as he looked down at you. Without a thought in mind, you both leaned and kissed. Your lips hovered over the other for a moment, before leaning back in, your lips melting together as your tongues attacked the other. His right hand in your hair, and his left cupping the side of your face.

After a minute, Spencer broke away and spoke. "I don't care what we are right now," he said, "we can talk about that another time. Right now, I just want you."

You smiled and went back in. He smiled through the kiss, letting tongue go back to where it belonged.

And there you stayed, kissing here and there, taking a few more hits before you both passed out on the couch, your arms still around the other.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fluff #mgg fluff #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fic