#I’m not here often and I don’t feel like scrolling you can tag me in things if you want it would help or use my tag for your content 💕

[spencerreidenjoyer]

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling. 

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose. 

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom. 

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute. 

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious. 

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach. 

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you. 

“Kiss me some more,” you coax. 

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure. 

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all. 

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you. 

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs. 

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs. 

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better. 

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day. 

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him. 

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else. 

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna���”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it. 

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently. 

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin. 

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement. 

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏:𝟒𝟓𝐩𝐦

“i told ya to stay at home,” rafe says, fingers gripping the steering wheel of his truck tightly, knuckles turning white before your eyes. you don’t look up at him—your moody gaze focusing out of the window instead, staring at the trees and the pavement instead of your boyfriend.

maybe you shouldn’t have complained so much. you know he’s right, because after all, you had begged to tag along with him for the day. normally rafe can hold his own—can refuse and let you down easy with a promise to come back later and spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want, which is more often than not just crashing at tannyhill and watching a movie. you inevitably fall asleep and stay the night, just like what had happened last night. 

and then this morning, clad just in rafe’s button-up and some socks, you pad up to him and look at him sweetly.

“no, no, you’re jus’ gonna start complainin’ the second you get bored-” 

“i won’t! no complaints here, none,” you had insisted, giving him your best pout and puppy eyes. 

“i have real shit to get done today, kid, important business-”

“i won’t say anything! you won’t even know i’m there, rafe-”

rafe had given in eventually—squeezing your cheeks together with his hand before you got in the passenger seat of his car, after opening the door for you.

“when you start complainin’, i’m gonna make you regret it. hm?” you had squeaked out an agreeing noise, quickly following up with a promise to stay quiet before climbing into your seat.

that had been hours ago. in that time, rafe had stopped at several houses, gone inside and spent time talking to other people—some you recognized, others not so much—and ended up here, with you waiting, your feet on his dash while he was inside with barry. the minutes were dragging into hours at this point, your entire body feeling tired and achy from the position. the air in the car felt a little suffocating and paired with the heat of the sun pouring through the windows, nothing you could do would make you feel comfortable.

rafe’s one rule had been not to get out of the car while he was inside. in your attempt to follow his instructions, you felt yourself getting more and more frustrated, a certain crankiness bubbling up inside you, making one of its rare appearances. 

you tried to scroll through your phone and play music—which failed immediately since there was no service out here. you tried to eat the candy you kept in his glovebox, but it was melted beyond the point of remaining edible. you tried, you really did, but just like rafe had predicted, you started complaining the second he got back in the truck.

“you think, what? that i say that shit for me? no, kid, i’m saying it for you, ‘cause i know you get fed up in the car when i’m fuckin’ busy tryna make some money, being fuckin’ proactive for us-”

“but i-”

“no excuses. i told you to stay home. you gonna get an attitude with me? huh?” 

“you’re not even-”

“shoulda tied your ass to the bed. that’s what i’ll do next time.”

it doesn’t take much longer for the tears to come to the surface, your face falling into that sad look that makes him mad at himself for even ever yelling at you. you cry silently like that until he parks at tannyhill, and when he looks at you, regret washes over him. your pretty makeup all messed up, body heaving with sobs, staring down at your feet because you felt too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“hey, hey,” he starts, a hand resting on your shoulder to get your attention. it moves deftly to your chin, titling your pretty, teary face up at him. “c’mon, don’t cry. it’s nothin’.” 

“you got mad,” you say, voice broken up with a sob, blubbering on. “i’m sorry, i am. i just hate being all alone here without you, it’s the worst-” 

“come on, kid.”

“jus’ wanted to hang out with you,” you sniffle. he runs a hand through his hair. he needs to get better at not getting frustrated with you just because he’s not used to your affection.

“i know, baby. we’re home now so get inside, hm?” you comply with his instructions, walking into tannyhill and heading towards the couch in the living room, like you always do when the two of you curl up to watch a movie.

“where you goin'?” he calls after you. you stop in your track, turning around to face rafe.

“i thought we’re hanging out? the living room?”

“and i said this morning that i would make you regret complainin’. so get your ass upstairs first, now.”

[bqstqnbruin]

Christmas Crashing

I'm taking a break from my regularly scheduled Swayman programming for a different fic where I'm actually not mean with the ending????? Who would have thought I could do that

ANYWAY this is for @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange, and I got to write for the absolutely amazing @laurenairay! We're ignoring that it's more than the week after Christmas but oh well

Also shoutout to @nicohischier for letting me yell about this and reading this while I scared her ily

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, I actually gave you a happy ending?????

WC:8890

Flashbacks are in italics

______________________________________

“What are you saying?”

“That I’m done.”

“That we’re done,” he clarifies for her.

She can feel her chest start to tighten, a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah.” 

Mimi hangs up without letting him get in another word, telling herself that she didn’t want to let him listen to the first sob that came out of her. She couldn’t read the text that he had sent trying to make sense of what just happened, telling her that he loved her and knew she loved him, that he wanted to figure this out and get through whatever was going on.

________________________

“You should totally post this photo,” Stella tells her, her mouth hanging open while she stared at Mimi’s phone screen. 

“Are you sure?” Mimi leans over her friend's shoulder, trying to look at Stella’s handiwork. Mimi was facing the arena, the back of the jersey her mom got her for Christmas a couple of years ago on full display as she looked back over her shoulder, her ponytail covering part of Hischier’s name. 

“Babe, you look so hot.” Stella opens up Mimi’s account, drafting up a post for her roommate. 

Mimi tries to snatch the phone from her before she could do anything, her taller friend holding the phone over her head while people around them filter into the arena, probably thinking these two girls outside were acting ridiculous. They were, but that wasn’t going to stop Mimi. 

Stella manages to get the picture posted, despite Mimi saying she wasn’t sure. “You look hot, shut up and let everyone see it.”

“You’re the worst.” 

“And you love me anyway.” 

They go into the game, Mimi ignoring the notifications that were coming up on her screen from Instagram despite the ego boost she denied they gave her. She could have spent the entire game on her phone, just scrolling through notifications and making her head bigger than it should be. 

“So?” Stella asks after the first period when the two of them head to the concourse to get food. “Was I right?”

Mimi had her phone in her hand, showing Stella her screen and scrolling for what seemed like forever to the end of the notifications she had yet to open. “Fine.”

“Tell me I was right,” Stella gloats.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “This kind of shit is why I broke up with Sofia, if you remember.”

“You broke up with her because she was an awful girlfriend in general, not because she was right more often than you were.” Mimi ignores her, continuing to scroll through the notifications while Stella looks over her shoulder. “Wait, woah, go back.”

Mimi scrolls back down, waiting for Stella to tell her to stop. “There’s no way.”

Stella starts jumping up and down, trying not to bring too much attention to them this time. “Did he comment on your photo?”

“Did you tag him in the photo?” 

Stella smirks. “There’s no harm in trying.” 

“I can’t believe you.” 

“What does it say?”

“No.” 

“It has to say more than just, ‘no.’”

“No, I mean,” Mimi says, moving up in the line. “I’m not gonna read it here.”

“Why not?” Stella whines.

“What if he thinks the picture is weird to tag him in? I don’t want to see that while he’s literally on the ice,” she says in a hushed voice. 

“What if he doesn’t?”

“I don’t want to read it.” 

The game ends, Stella somehow gaining full control over Mimi’s phone as the two of them head out to a bar after a quick pit stop at home to change, despite Mimi’s protest for wanting to stay home and read her book instead. Her bed was right there, after all. 

“Go do your thing,” Stella says, heading off to find a table for the two of them while Mimi tries to secure drinks. 

“Hey,” Mimi approaches one guy, pulling out a trick that she got from one of her books. “Buy me a drink if I beat you at tic-tac-toe.”

The guy looks perplexed, agreeing while his friends root him on, Mimi grabbing a napkin from the bar counter and pulling a pen out of her bag. She normally won, considering the fact that the guys were normally too drunk by the time she got to them to think straight enough to play the game. 

This time was no different. She won easily. 

“What do you want?” the guy asks, his friends making fun of him for losing and putting him in a foul mood. 

“Vodka Sour,” she asks for Stella’s drink.

She gets the drink and leaves before he can say or do anything else, heading back to Stella with her drink in hand. 

“Free?”

“Free,” she confirms, seeing her phone in Stella’s hands. “What are you doing?”

Stella smirks, a facial expression that makes her nervous. “Nothing.”

Mimi nods. “I’m gonna try and find another guy.” 

She heads back to the bar, scanning for another person she could get a drink from. She sees a guy talking to a friend, looking nervous. He looked sweet. Maybe she could actually talk to him and bring his friend over for Stella, too.

“Want to play tic-tac-toe?” she asks him, the guy looking like a deer in headlights. “Winner buys drinks?”

“I’ll play,” she hears behind her, the two guys eyes getting wide as they stare at the person. “Mimi, right?”

“Nico?” 

He smiles at her, taking a step closer and reaching over her shoulder to grab a napkin. He brushes against her, sending a shock through her body. “Let’s play.” 

________________________

Mimi gets to baggage claim, trying her best to ignore the fact that she was supposed to be here with Nico, not by herself, as she gets home for Christmas. He wasn’t even going to be with her for that long because of his schedule, but it was supposed to be something, at least. He knew Christmas was her favorite holiday, her favorite time of year, and instead of being with her like he was supposed to be, he was back in New Jersey. 

“Emilia,” she hears her mom calling her name, way louder than she needed to be since there were only about five other people around the carousel, the airport surprisingly empty considering it was December 23rd. Her mother came running up to her, practically tackling her into the bags that were starting to roll around as her father sighed, grabbing Mimi’s bag. 

“Where’s Gram?” Mimi asks. Every single time she came home, without fail, no matter what time of day it was, her grandmother was always there to see her when she got off the plane.

“She’s with Uncle Sam in New York for this Christmas, remember?” Mimi nods, not remembering the conversation her mother goes on to claim they had weeks ago. It was weird that her grandmother wasn’t there. “Where’s Nico?”

Mimi hesitates, another thing that was wrong. She hadn’t told her parents yet. She didn’t know how to. “His practice schedule changed at the last minute, so he had to stay back. He’s going to let me know later if he’s going to be able to come out here.”

Her father nods, incredibly indifferent. Despite how much he seemed to adore Nico, he would rather have less people around the house so he didn’t get overstimulated when he was cooking. More people meant more food he had to keep track of. 

Her mother on the other hand. “Oh, no. He’s not coming? But we haven’t seen him in so long. What if we Facetime him, tell him we can pay for the ticket for him to come. Where’s your phone?”

Mimi swats off her mother’s hand, trying to follow her dad out to their car so she could go home and go to sleep. “Mother, money is not the problem, I promise. He can’t help his practice schedule,” she lies. 

Her mother continues to fret, walking to the car going on and on about how she wished she had known so she didn’t spend all the extra time preparing for Mimi’s boyfriend to come home with her. Mimi lets out a sigh, climbing into the backseat as her father loads her bags into the trunk.

________________________

“Where are we going?” Mimi asks, climbing into Nico’s passenger seat once his car pulls to a stop in front of her building.

He smirks, leaning across the center console, giving her a kiss, one hand on the wheel with another cupping her face. “It’s a surprise.” 

“That’s what someone would say before they dump the body,” Mimi jokes as Nico pulls away from the curb.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mimi,” Nico groans, Mimi noticing the smile on his face regardless of his tone. They had been dating for about a month now, spending more time with him than she spent with Stella despite the fact they lived together. It wasn’t her fault; she couldn’t say no to him when he asked her to do something, no matter what it was. 

Mimi shrugs, a teasing look on her face. “Think about it, it would be perfect to take me to some far off location to commit a felony when I have no idea where we’re going.” 

“Stella has your location.”

“You could steal my phone.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Mimi, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“Then where are we going?”

“Can’t I surprise you? Please?” he begs, his tone turning a little more serious. 

She sighs, staring out the window as he drives away from the city in an attempt to hide the smile on her face. “I guess.” 

The snow on the ground became more pristine the longer he drove, untouched and perfect as they got away from the more densely populated area they lived in. The trees lining the streets made her wish she lived out here, giving that illusion of serenity that you couldn’t get in the city. 

Nico pulled off the road to follow a gravel path, lined with a wooden fence on either side, just barely wide enough for the car to fit down. 

“This is definitely the perfect place for a murder,” Mimi jokes.

“Jeez,” Nico sighs. “We’re doing something fun.” 

Mimi sees the sign in front of her as Nico starts to slow down, a Christmas tree farm in front of them. She looks at Nico, who was already staring at her with a smile on his face. “So?”

“We’re getting a tree?” Mimi said, feeling herself getting giddy as she unbuckled her seatbelt, practically jumping out of the car.

Nico joins her, taking his hand in hers and leading her closer to the plethora of trees in front of them. “You said you used to love going with your dad and cutting down the perfect tree when you were younger. These are pre-cut, but I figured you could help me pick out the perfect one for my place.”

________________________

“You already have the tree up?” Mimi asks, her heart dropping when she walks into her parents house, seeing what was supposed to be a tradition between her and her dad already there. They never got the tree this early. And they certainly never had it already decorated with lights.

“Mimi,” her mother starts as she beelines for the tree.

“It’s not even real.” Her mouth hangs open as she examines the fake, plastic monstrosity before her, the lights on the tree because it came prelit. “You got a fake tree.”

“Donohue retired.” Mimi stared at her dad, the sad look in his eyes mirroring her own. “There was nowhere to get a real tree this year.”

Mimi nods, knowing it was stupid to get upset over something so trivial, that feeling that something . “We still have all our ornaments, right?”

Her mother comes over to her, putting her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “You think we could get rid of those?”

________________________

“What are you doing today?” Nico’s voice comes through Mimi’s phone. 

“Nothing.”

“Now you’re not.” Mimi could hear his smile. “I’m picking you up in five minutes.”

Mimi hangs up without another word, rushing to get ready for him. 

He knocks on her door moments later, coat in hand with plastic bags full of stuff there with him. “Hi,” he says, using his free hand to pull her in for a kiss.

“Hi.” She looks at the bags in his hands, trying to suss out why he had craft supplies with him. “What’s all this?”

“Well,” he starts, pushing past her and heading for her kitchen table, placing the bags down and starting to clear the surface off. “After we got my tree, I realized I don’t have anything to put on it.”

Mimi watches him taking out everything from the bags; paint, markers, stencils, scissors, paper, pipe cleaners; it looked like he raided the store purge style for everything you could possibly think of. “And?”

He organizes everything into piles in front of them, gesturing to his haul. “I thought we could make some ornaments together.” 

Mimi laughs, her heart fluttering as Nico beams at her. “How good are you at arts and crafts?”

Nico smirks. “Horrible. You?”

“Awful.”

“Then this will be fun.”

________________________

“Hey, what time is Celeste getting here?” Mimi asks as she hangs up one her ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ Ornament as high as she could, something she has done every year since she could walk. Her sister was supposed to be getting in before she did if her memory served her correctly. 

Her parents exchange looks behind her back, thinking Mimi didn’t catch them. “She got snowed in.” 

“What?” she asks, nearly dropping the ornament her great-grandmother made. “So when is she going to get here?”

“The snow isn’t supposed to clear until tomorrow.”

“So she should be able to get here tomorrow, then?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe?” Mimi screams. This was an overreaction on her part, but it was now the third thing that had been wrong with this Christmas, on top of Nico breaking up with her right before she was getting on the plane. “Celeste has to come to Christmas. Where else will she go?”

“She would be with Quinn and his family, I would assume,” her mother says, referring to her sister’s fiance.

Mimi just nods, knowing there was nothing she could do to control it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t still feel upset about it. 

The rest of the day feels like a blur, a weird emptiness knowing her sister wasn’t going to be showing up like she was supposed to, her grandmother was spending Christmas on the other side of the country, and the tree wasn’t real like it had been for as long as she could remember.

That and she kept checking her phone, expecting a text from Nico to show up on her screen, despite the fact that he hadn’t texted her in weeks. 

“Hey, Emilia,” her dad pulls her out of her trance, standing in front of her with the car keys. “Want to run out and grab some things with me?

________________________

“Stop bouncing your leg, you’re shaking the car,” Nico reaches over and presses down on Mimi’s thigh, trying to get her to stop.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, sinking further into his passenger seat. She looks out the window, snow everywhere, less and less cars on the road as they get to the cabin Nico’s friends rented out for the weekend. They had a rare break between games without so much as a practice (according to Nico, this was unheard of), so some of his friends took the opportunity to get away from home for a while and just relax somewhere else.

It looked like Nico was driving her into her death.

It was worse, actually. She had to meet new people and interact with them without anywhere to retreat.

“Our room is the only one on the top floor if they get to be too much,” Nico says, reading her mind. “They’re going to love you.”

They had just had the ‘what are we conversation,’ where Nico let her know that he considered her to be his girlfriend a while ago. Apparently, Nico’s entire team had been referring to Mimi as Nico’s girlfriend for the last month. It was time to actually meet them, and Mimi felt like she would rather run out into the wilderness and disappear with the bears. 

Mimi lets out a deep breath as he turns down the road the GPS told him to turn down. This couldn’t be that bad, could it?

As soon Nico pulled up in front of the cabin, the car seemed to be surrounded by his teammates, screaming about god only knows what and opening every door despite not needing to.

“You said you were bringing the beer,” Luke whines. 

“I did,” Nico deadpans. “You’re barely old enough to drink, calm down.”

“Luke, go back inside,”Jack says, reaching up and trying to mess with Luke’s hair. Luke stomps back inside, Mimi hearing him muttering something about being treated like a child. “He’ll be fine.” 

“I told you not to bring him,” Nico says, handing his teammate the aforementioned case of beer. “He’s too young.”

“Ok, Dad,” he says, Nico rolling his eyes. “You know as well as I do that I couldn’t leave him home when all of us were here.”

Nico hands Mimi her bag from the trunk once she gets out of the car, taking her hand in his and leading her into the cabin. “That’s Jack and Luke.”

Mimi nods, recognizing them from long before she and Nico even started dating. Nico, for some reason, had a habit of forgetting that she actually knew the sport and the team well enough, growing up with her dad being a fan of them since they were in Kansas City and passing it onto her as they relocated to Devner, then to East Rutherford. She probably knew more about the Devils as a franchise because of her father than Nico did as captain. 

They get inside, the heat hitting Mimi’s face. The inside of the cabin was beautiful, the walls entirely made of wood with light fixtures that looked like oil lamps attached to the walls. Thankfully, there were no dead animals stuck to the walls as she had feared, but a huge TV mounted in front of the couches, playing none other than an NHL game on the screen. 

“There’s Dawson, Jesper, and Nate,” Nico points, the three guys waving to them. 

Mimi pulls Nico aside. “I thought you said they were bringing their partners, too.” 

Nico blinks at her. “None of them are seeing anyone.”

“So it’s just you, me, and your teammates?”

Nico nods. “Yeah, of course.”

Mimi nods slowly, biting the inside of her cheek. “I think I’m going to head up to our room.”

Mimi layed on the bed she and Nico were going to share in the cabin, trying to read while Nico and his teammates were screaming downstairs, clearly already drunk despite them only being there for two hours. This wasn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. She was supposed to meet his teammates and their partners as Nico had told her, so she wouldn’t be alone with the guys.

It’s not that she didn’t think she would have fun, it’s just not what she was expecting. 

She hears a knock on the door as she stares up at the ceiling, her book laying facedown, open, on her chest. She was making no progress. Nico pokes his head in before she can say anything. “Can we talk?”

Mimi nods, sitting up and marking her place in her book. 

“You’re mad at me.” Nico sits down on the bed by her feet. 

She sighs. “I’m not mad.”

“But you aren’t happy with me.” 

“I’m annoyed that you didn’t tell me what I was getting into this weekend.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Nico pleaded with her. The look on his face made her chest ache, knowing that he actually wanted to do that. 

Mimi exhales. “Give me,” she hesitates. “Like an hour?”

“Ok.” Nico nods. She stares at him for a second, neither of them moving while the sound of his teammates laughter rings through the house. “Are you not going to go back down?”

“Not without you.” 

“I’m just going to sit here and read,” she tells him, giving him a suspicious look. 

Nico nods again, shifting to rest his back against the headboard, his arm raised for her to cuddle right into. “That’s fine.” 

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Mimi feeling Nico’s eyes on her while she read her book. They stayed that way for two hours, just enough time for Mimi to think of herself as the character in the book falling in love with the man she was going to spend her life with. 

________________________

The two of them drive in silence, Mimi not really caring where they were going. She keeps resisting the urge to check her phone, knowing that she would see her background instead of any notification she would actually care about. 

“So, kid,” her father starts, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. “Nico isn’t coming, is he?”

Mimi looks out the window, pursing her lips and shaking her head. “No.”

“Are you two alright?”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

He parks the car, sitting there for a moment. “Ok. Let’s go in.” 

“What are we doing here, anyway?” The two of them walk through the aisles, her dad pushing a carriage with the loudest wheel possible. He had a talent for picking out the most rickety one every time, somehow not caring and not getting annoyed as he shopped.

He starts pulling things from the shelves, ingredients Mimi recognized as being for her favorite ricotta cookies, the recipe that had been passed down through her family from her great-great-grandparents. “Mom thought it would be fun to make these again this year.”

Mimi smiles, looking at his cart to see what he still needed that she could grab. The last thing he needed, the most important ingredient, was the ricotta. She heads over to the cheese, scouring the case for the right one.

“Any luck?” her father appears behind her, seeing the frown on her face. She shakes her head, staring at the case. They had to have the ricotta. They couldn’t make ricotta cookies without it. Her father flags down an employee.

They shrug, shoving their hands in their jean pockets. “If it’s not out here, we must be out. The trucks haven’t been coming in with everything lately.” 

Mimi looks at her dad as the employee stalks away. “What do we do?”

Her dad shrugs, staring at the cart. “We can check another store later, but I guess we can’t make them tonight.”

________________________

The first snowfall of the year happened abnormally early; in October, actually. The last time Mimi remembered an October snowstorm was around 2010, when she was eleven. That resulted in most of her life getting shut down for the week, but at least she didn’t have to go to school.

Mimi remembered staying in while her father cleared the driveway, her and Celeste sitting at the door near the back porch and staring towards the sky while the snow fell toward them, pretending that they were being transported to a different winter wonderland that wasn’t their backyard. Their mother would make mac and cheese and turn on a movie for Celeste while Mimi curled up on the couch, cuddling with her mother while she read whatever book she could get her hands on. The hot chocolate always came later, with extra marshmallows. 

As she got older, it meant no school, then no work, but always snuggling on the couch under her warmest blanket, a movie playing in the background while she read with a mug of hot chocolate next to her. 

She sits down on her couch, getting ready to spend the day not moving when someone is buzzing her apartment to come up, a text from Nico letting her know it was him.

“What are you doing here?” she asks when she opens her door. 

He smiles at her, making her heart skip a beat as he bends down to kiss her. “Practice and the game got cancelled tonight, I thought I would stop by since your location said you were home.” 

“Oh,” she lets out, cringing at the disappointment that she heard come through her voice. She watched Nico’s smile falter.

“Do you want me to go?”

Mimi looked out the window, watching the snow fall even harder than it had just mere minutes ago, Nico already covered in snow as it was. “No, no, it’s not safe for you.”

Nico nods, unsure what to do. 

“I was just about to read my book,” Mimi says, taking his hand and leading him in. 

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “I thought we could just kinda,” his voice trailed off, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the hallway leading to her bedroom. “But that’s fine. You can read your book.” 

“I do this every snow day,” Mimi tries not to whine, sitting down on her couch and clutching her book. 

Nico exhales, nodding. “That’s fine,” he repeats, clearing his throat. “What else do you do?” 

Nico sits down next to her, Mimi pulling her book closer to her chest. “I just,” she starts, feeling her heartbeat rising for no reason that she could think of. 

“Hey, hey,” Nico coos, gently bringing her into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, one hand rubbing her back while the other rested on her lap. “I can leave. If you don’t want me here, I will leave. If it’s not safe to go I will just sit in the hallway.”

Mimi lets out a strangled laugh, picturing him playing games on his phone while he posted up outside her door, probably staying there until one of her neighbors ventured out of their place and called someone to come take away the man sitting outside an apartment he didn’t live in. “I put on a movie in the background and then just sit with my blanket and read it.” 

“Can I join you?”

“You want to watch the movie or do you want a book?” Nico shifts, getting up and heading down the hall to her room. “That’s not an answer,” she calls after him.

He comes back, waving a book in his hands. “I’ll read and then if I get bored, I’ll fall back on the movie.”

Mimi stares at the book he picked, her heart swelling in her chest. “That’s my favorite book.”

“I know. That’s why I want to read it again.” 

________________________

Mimi and her father finally get home, the one missing ingredient for some reason impossible to find and the remaining groceries unable to be left in the car for much longer without ruining them, too. 

“I’ll head out in the morning again and see if I can find it,” her dad tries to reassure her when he pulls into the driveway. 

She heads inside to her old room. Every little thing has gone wrong so far, it seemed, but why should it bother her? She was going to be with her family at Christmas, something she hadn’t really been able to do the last few years because of work. Her sister might not be here,or her grandmother, or her boyfriend, but still with her parents.

Her ex-boyfriend.

Staring at the walls of the room she grew up in, seeing the posters from the musicals that she was in when she was in middle school and high school taped above her bed, the game-day posters from the games she went to with her dad as a child surrounding her closet, the awards she won for various random clubs and activities she did in order to go to college where she did above her bookcase. 

Mimi thinks back to her packing job, trying to remember what books she brought with her for the trip. She had the one she read while she was in the airport and on the plane, but she finished that right before her plane landed, putting that back in her bag and spending the rest of the time in the air logging the book rather than starting another one. Did she even bring another one?

She remembers plugging in her e-reader before she started packing, but did she ever unplug it and pack it? She texts Stella to check and unplug it so she doesn’t murder her prized possession while away. 

“Mom,” Mimi yells, not waiting for any acknowledgement. “What books do you have?”

“Check our bedroom,” she hears, heading to the bookcase that’s against the wall. 

“I’ve read all of these,” she yells back, trying not to let a whining tone come through her voice. And she actually had. Most of her parents were her old books that she had read that she gave to them, or that she bought separate copies of for them. The books her parents got on their own somehow found their way into Mimi’s hands, leaving her with nothing. 

Her mom appears in the doorway, a concerned look on her face while she watches her daughter stare defeated at the books. She checks her watch, grabbing her wallet from her closet. “Take my library card and check out what you want. They’re still open for another hour or so.” Mimi takes the card and stares at it. She wasn’t even sure if this was allowed. Wasn’t it some sort of fraud to use someone else’s library card? “I have a book on hold, I’ll call them and let them know they can give it to you. Go.”

Mimi gets pushed out the door and handed the keys, faster than she can even process what was going on. 

She hadn’t been inside her hometown library since she was in high school, everything still exactly the same except for the self check out computers they added for when the librarians were busy. They had set up a holiday book display, Mimi beelining there in hopes of finding anything that could potentially put her in a better mood. 

Mimi picks up a book with two girls on the cover, some sapphic holiday romance that had been on her radar since October when someone she followed on social media had posted about it. 

“Emilia?” She snaps away from the book to see a guy standing in front of her, someone who she swore looked familiar but couldn’t, for the life of her, remember why she knew him. “Niall Walsh.”

The guy she went to junior prom with. Shit, he looked good. “Of course, how are you?” she asks him, trying to sound enthusiastic about seeing him. She just needed to get books and go home.

“Good, good. You’re still out in New Jersey?”

They fall into a stupid conversation, Mimi trying to back away and find more books for her stay. She needed at least three to survive the holiday. 

“A bunch of us are heading to the green later to skate, you should join us,” Niall offers, starting to list off people from high school Mimi hadn’t kept in touch with.

“That sounds so nice, but I’ve gotta help my mom with stuff for the holidays.” 

Niall finally says goodbye with his books in hand, letting her know that she was still welcome to join if she had the time.

She didn’t want to go ice skating. It made her think of Nico. 

________________________

“For fucks sake,” Mimi huffs, kicking the door open. “Next time we want to move, we’re not doing it in the middle of winter, and we aren’t doing it in the middle of your season.”

Nico laughs, getting up from the couch and grabbing the box from her. They had been together for over a year, finally making the decision to move in together. “Both of our leases were up and you would hate moving in the summer, too.”

“I’m somehow sweating and freezing. This is awful.” 

“How many more boxes are in your car?”

“All my books.” 

“There’s no way you fit all of those in your car.”

Mimi makes a face, taking Nico’s hand and dragging him back downstairs. “Stella might also be there with her car full of my books.”

Nico sighs with a lazy smile on his face, puts his arm around her and pulls her close as they walk outside and kisses the side of her head. “That’s my girl.”

“You have too many fucking books,” Stella mutters, opening her trunk. “I nearly died because I couldn’t see out my windows.”

“You were probably fine,” Nico deadpans, checking his phone. “Jack and Luke said they’ll be here in an hour with the truck.” 

“You’re meeting them back at our place?”

“My place.”

“Your place.” The two stare at each other, the gravity of Mimi moving out just about to hit them.

Nico clears his throat, hoping to distract them long enough that they can have their moment inside rather than out on the street. “Let’s get these books inside before it gets dark out.”

The girls unload the cars, boxes upon boxes of books being brought up to the new apartment and placed haphazardly throughout the space. 

“Where are all of these going, anyway?” Stella huffs, setting down a book that Mimi had labelled as ‘Fantasy,’ meaning that all of her biggest books were stuffed in there.

“We have the second bedroom that we’re turning into a reading space,” Nico says. 

Stella nods. “Well,” she straightens her back, all of them feeling the pain of moving too many boxes. “I’m going to go back and meet the idiots for the rest.” She leaves before the girls can say anything else to each other, both of them avoiding the fact that they wouldn’t be living together anymore after nearly seven years. They were so close to having a common law marriage.

Mimi looks at Nico, staring at all the boxes scattered around them. “We have to unpack these.” 

Nico smiles at her. “I have a better idea.” 

Mimi eyes him curiously, watching him head to one of the closets that she still wasn’t sure held, Nico pulling things out. “Ice skates?” she asks, staring at the two pairs in his hands.

“There’s a pond that’s frozen over behind the building, we can take a break before it gets dark.” 

“We’ve never gone skating before,” Mimi points out. “You don’t even know if I can.”

Nico hands her the pair meant for her, taking her hand and grabbing his keys as they head out. “You’re probably better than me.”

“Obviously. You’re pretty shit at skating, aren’t you?” she teases him.

Nico laughs. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

________________________

“Did you leave any books for other people?” her dad teases her when she comes back through the door.

“There’s still all the books written by Republicans.”

“Do they know how to write books?”

Mimi hears her mother scold him for that one, trying to stifle her own laugh so she isn’t scolded as well. “I have enough books for the time that I’m here. I think. Don’t worry.” 

Mimi heads up to her room, flopping down on her bed with a book open in her hand. She didn’t need anyone else to be here for it to be Christmas for her. She could just be with her parents and whatever other family they had coming over this year. 

She reads her book, a group of friends going to one of their parents' houses for the holidays because none of them have anywhere else to do until they realize that two of them were not only together previously, but one had left the other at the altar. 

Mimi sits up straight on her bed, shutting the book as fast as she could. She had to stop going into books blind. Every time, without fail, they reminded her of the things that were going wrong in her life.

________________________

“When do we have to leave?” Nico asks, his arms wrapped around Mimi as they lay in bed, the snow falling outside and coating the window, his bare chest against hers. 

Mimi hums, turning herself to nestle into his shoulder. She didn’t want to leave this moment. “Our flight is at noon.” 

Mimi was heading home for Thanksgiving this year, bringing Nico home with her for the first time. Her parents had met him before, but this was her whole family now. They had been dating for two years at this point, living together for almost a year, and at this point, they both decided it was time to meet her family.

It was terrifying. 

“Ugh, shit,” Nico groans, letting go of her and getting out of bed. “I need to shower, then.” 

Mimi lays in their bed for a few moments, trying to fathom taking a boy home with her. Not just any boy, but the one she lived with, the one she loved.

One of the phones on the nightstand makes some noise, Mimi hearing the shower starting in the bathroom. She reaches over for the one lit up, not sure whose she was grabbing. 

Her mom’s first name came up as the contact sending a message.

“Nico, my mom is texting you.” 

She hears something fall in the shower. “You can just leave it,” he yells back, a weird tone in his voice.

Why would her mom be texting him? Normally, she texted both of them in a group chat that included her father, Celeste, and Quinn, regardless of who she actually needed to talk to. Her mom never even texted her separately, even on her birthday. 

Mimi knew Nico’s passcode. She could just open his phone and look at what they were talking about. 

But why would she do that? Mimi shook her head, putting the phone back on the nightstand and started to get ready, pushing the thought of Nico and her mom talking about something that she couldn’t know about from her mind every time it popped up. 

They had to focus on finishing up the last of their packing and getting to the airport, which they had less than an hour to get to, at this point. 

“Babe, hurry up,” she yells, throwing the last things they needed in their bags, Nico still in the bathroom fucking around. “We need to leave, like, five minutes ago.” 

“I’m good, I’m ready,” he says, emerging from the bathroom, his hair still soaked. “And we have plenty of time before we need to leave.” He grabs his phone, Mimi seeing him open the text from her mom and a smile growing on his face. 

________________________

Mimi finishes one book and quickly moves onto the next, losing track of time. The last thing she remembered, the SecUnit was freaking out about dying and not saving its humans. 

Next thing she knows, it’s three am, her lights are still on, her book is still in her hand miraculously with her page saved by her finger, and something was making noise downstairs. Actually, someone.

Mimi practically launches herself out of bed, finding the kitchen lights on and her sister checking the fridge. “What the fuck?” she breathes out, grabbing Celeste into a hug. 

“Hi, to you, too,” Celeste laughs, Quinn in the background going through cabinets. “We need food.” 

“I thought your flight couldn’t come in?”

“Quinn here drove us.”

“From Vancouver?”

Quinn shrugs, the normal sullen look on his face made even worse from the exhaustion of the long drive. “Celeste had to get here.”

“Yeah,” she says, taking Mimi’s hand and leading her to the kitchen table. “How are you?” She had called her sister almost immediately after it happened to tell her. 

“Good.” Celeste gives her that look that tells her she knows it’s a lie. “Fine.” Another look. Mimi sighs, letting out the words she hadn’t said out loud to anyone. “I miss him.” 

________________________

Her family loved Nico. 

Her little cousins flocked to him, her aunts and uncles raved about how easy he was to talk to. Celeste nearly drooled over him despite Quinn standing right next to him and her having seen him plenty of times on TV. Her parents, Mimi was sure, wished he was their actually child. They would trade Mimi for three mini cans of soda and a bag of corn chips if it meant Nico was their son. 

Mimi was watching Nico play with her youngest cousin, Vivianna, as she showed Nico all the dolls she brought with her and told him about all of them in that high-pitched toddler babble she was probably going to have grown out of by Christmas. Her chest ached at the sight of his smile at Vivianna, finding herself daydreaming about him with their own kid one day. 

“Hey,” her mom pulls her out of her trance. “Can you go grab my phone on my nightstand? It has the recipe for the mac and cheese and I need to take out the turkey in a second.”

“Got it.” 

She heads upstairs to her parents room, finding the phone, an unread message notification from Nico from a couple of hours ago on the screen. She was looking for the recipe, not the messages. It was saved in her mother’s notes app, and that was all she needed to look for. 

But her mom told her to get her phone. She could see the messages and then just ‘unread’ the one Nico had sent her. 

No. That was crazy. What was she even worried about? Her mom and Nico haven’t some sort of illicit affair? That would never happen. 

She shakes her head of the thought. She was going crazy over nothing. Mimi unlocks her mothers phone, expecting to find her home screen with all her apps, her notes app in the bottom left hand corner of the main dock. 

Instead it opened right to Nico’s messages. 

Mimi couldn’t help herself. She scrolls up to the last few messages, her mom for some reason either not replying to him or deleting all of her messages to him, leaving only what Nico sent. 

It was links upon links of engagement rings. 

And she hated every single one of them.

“Mimi,” her mother yells up the stairs. “Did you find my phone?”

Shit. “Yeah,” she sets the message back to being unread and pulls up the notes app just as her mom appears in the doorway. “Here, sorry. I grabbed Dad’s phone instead.”

Her mother eyes her suspiciously, looking at the other nightstand where the other phone sat. “No problem, let’s head back down stairs. Nico was looking for you.”

Nico. 

________________________

“I think you should call him,” Celeste says, ignoring the fact that Quinn was falling asleep in the chair next to her. Actually, Mimi was sure that he was already asleep.

Mimi shakes her head. “He wanted to propose, to get married, to spend our lives together and he didn’t even know what kind of ring I liked? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Celeste sighs.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“No, I’m supposed to call you out when you’re being a fucking dumbass.” 

“What did I do wrong here?”

“Mimi, the ring is not important.” Celeste reaches across the table and takes her sister's hands. “You love Nico and he loves you. You guys talked about getting married, didn’t you? The ring can be changed, but if you wait too long, it might not be Nico who gives it to you.”

Before Mimi can respond, Quinn stirs and startles the sisters, shifting on the table. He sits up, his forehead bright red from where he was resting. “Can we go to bed?” he mumbles, his eyes still closed.

Celeste helps get him out of the chair. “Yeah, babe.” She leads him out of the kitchen, leaving Mimi sitting there by herself. “Maybe think about calling him tomorrow? Tell him what you saw on our mother’s phone and tell him you’re an idiot?”

Mimi laughed at her sister’s bluntness. She had been wanting to call Nico for the last few weeks since she broke up with him. Worst of all, she did it while he was on a road trip and took a bag of things out and back to Stella’s place. She never went and got all her things, all her books. 

She heads up to her room, her phone flashing 4:00 am. She had to get to sleep if she wanted to be ready for whatever chaos her family brought with them when they got to their house the next afternoon. 

________________________

Mimi was shaking, walking down the street with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, heading to Stella’s.

Nico was away on a west coast road trip for over a week already, scheduled to come back the next day. She had been keeping him at arm's length since Thanksgiving, since the text messages to her mother. Everything felt weird, between them and Nico had no idea why. Mimi couldn’t talk to him.

Her phone was in her hand, Nico’s number typed from memory ready to call, all she had to do was press the green button. They had talked earlier that morning, when he woke up, but she couldn’t say anything to him. 

She goes for it, knowing that she had to say something to him as to why she wasn’t at their apartment when he got home. 

“Hey, babe,” he answers groggily after a couple of rings. Mimi takes the phone away from her ear, trying to figure out the time difference. He was at the end of his pre-game nap, just waking up. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to Stella’s.”

“Oh, ok,” she hears him say, the ruffling of sheets as he sits up. He yawns, Mimi able to picture him stretching as he does so. “Are you guys doing a girl’s night?”

“No, um, I’m going to move back in with her.” Nico doesn’t say anything, Mimi standing outside her old building, checking to see if the call dropped.

Nico finally clears his throat. “You’re what?”

Mimi could feel the tears coming, trying to hold them back. As soon as she started to cry, she knew he would hear it in her voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Nico.” 

“What are you saying?” She hears him getting out of bed, shuffling around the hotel room. He was frantic, things falling over, Nico bumping into things, probably in a panic. 

Mimi hesitates. “That I’m done.”

He stops. “That we’re done,” he clarifies for her.

She can feel her chest start to tighten, a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah.” 

Mimi hangs up without letting him get in another word, telling herself that she didn’t want to let him listen to the first sob that came out of her. She couldn’t read the text that he had sent trying to make sense of what just happened, telling her that he loved her and knew she loved him, that he wanted to figure this out and get through whatever was going on.

Stella appears outside, holding the door open for her just as Mimi bursts into tears, bringing her friend in for a hug. 

“What happened?” 

Mimi can’t get a word out between her crying, feeling ridiculous for doing this on the street. Stella tries to console her, dragging her in the building. “You’re gonna be ok. Stay as long as you need. You’re heading to your parents in a few days, anyway.” 

________________________

Mimi woke up to her mother standing over her like she was back in high school and had snoozed her alarm one too many times. “It’s almost noon, are you going to get up?”

“Ugh,” Mimi lets out, swearing in her mind. She jolts out of bed, trying to find all the clothes she had planned to wear that never managed to get unpacked from her bag. 

“Everyone gets here in an hour.”

“I know, Mom.” Mimi nearly falls over trying to get her pants on, her mother just standing there watching.

“Anything from Nico?”

Mimi stops, her pajama top in one hand, the sweater she was planning on wearing in the other as she looks at the smirk her mom had on her face. “I just woke up and haven’t looked at my phone yet, I’m not sure.”

Her mother nods. “Just let us know if someone needs to go pick him up at the airport.” She leaves without another word. 

Mimi shakes it off, whatever weirdness her mother gave off probably just from the normal anxiety that came with hosting their family for Christmas Eve. Both sides of the family showed up, which meant the most chaos possible for their family. She heads downstairs, going through the motions of helping her father get the food ready, setting the tables, trying to find the bag of toys that had somehow completely disappeared since Thanksgiving that they kept for the little ones.

The doorbell rings, Mimi hearing one of her aunts call that she was letting herself in as she always did, a container of gingerbread cookies with her to hand off to Mimi. The rest of the family starts to filter in, the entire house filled with talking, laughing, screaming, and everyone in a good mood.

Except for Mimi. 

“You didn’t call him, did you?” Celeste pulls her aside. 

Mimi shakes her head, taking out her phone since she knew Celeste would make her call him now anyway. She types in his number, pressing the call button without hesitating.

“It went right to voicemail.” Mimi knew the color drained from her face, her heart dropping to her stomach. Did he block her? 

She tries to pull up his location, the last time his phone registering one being at Newark Airport around the same time Celeste got home. He couldn’t be travelling for hockey.

Celeste bites her lip, a concerned look on her face. “He’s probably just busy. His phone is off.”

“What if I can’t get him back?” Mimi felt like crying, again. She really fucked this up.

Celeste pulls her in for a hug. “Then we figure it out.” 

The sisters are interrupted by one of their father’s brothers, yelling something about Quinn being too quiet for the family and how he was sure they would break him out of his shell. Celeste immediately leaves to try to save her boyfriend, Mimi laughing at the image of the poor boy panicking over the anxiety that their family could cause. 

The doorbell rings, the rest of the family too loud for anyone but Mimi, who had happened to wander by the door on her way to the kitchen, to hear. She was sure everyone was already there, her mother not mentioning that anyone was going to be late.

She checks through the small window at the top, the angle of the glass distorting any good view of the person she could have. All Mimi could see was brown hair pacing back and forth on the front porch. 

Mimi opens the door. “Nico?” Her heart swells as he stops pacing, pulling her in for a hug as she shuts the door, not wanting her family to hear any of their conversation. “What are you doing here?”

He pulls away from her slightly to look at her, his one hand still on her waist and he brushes her hair off her face with the other, tucking it behind her cheek. “You’ve been avoiding my calls, and my texts. Stella, Celeste, and Quinn have all called me or Jack or Luke trying to figure out what happened.”

She sighs, wanting to bury herself in his chest and forget everything ever happened. “I saw the rings you sent my mom.”

“And?”

“I hated them.”

“I knew you would.” 

“What?”

Nico laughs, pulling her back into his chest. “I sent those to your mom because I knew at some point, your mom would ask you to pull up something on her phone for her, and I don’t want you knowing what you’re going to get when I do ask you.”

“When you do?”

“When I do ask you, it’ll be perfect for you.” 

Mimi doesn’t say anything, pulling him in for a kiss instead. She could feel him smile against her lips, his hands tightening around her waist. 

“I do have this for you, though,” Nico pulls away, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small ring box. “It’s what I’m going to put your ring in.”

Mimi raises her eyebrow at him as he encourages her to open it. “What’s on the lining?” Nico smiles, Mimi staring at the lines and marks. “Holy shit.” Her eyes grow wide when the realization hits her.

“It’s our tic-tac-toe game from the night we met.”

Mimi hugs him, nuzzling his face against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat as he holds her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hey, there you are,” Celeste interrupts, the door open with their entire family standing there watching. Mimi felt her face get hot as they all gave the two of them knowing looks.  “Look who crashed Christmas.” 

[whyse7vn]

MIN YOONGI & KIM SEOKJIN

NICER:

“You know….” Jin looks over to Yoongi he’s sprawled out on a black couch thats sits in middle of the room they’re both in mindlessly scrolling through his phone. “It’s almost time to renew our contracts”

“So?” Yoongi replies his full attention still being held by his phone.

“Well, don’t tell her” Yoongi pauses “I told you this but y/ns been kinda on the fence about it all”

“About renewing her contract?”

“About being in the group all together”

Yoongi’s phone falls flat to his chest. Jin bites back a smirk.

“What?”

“Again don’t tell her i told you this but she said being in the groups gotten a little suffocating that we all argue too much and tha—”

“Bullshit”

“I’m not joking you know she comes to me about stuff why would i lie?”

Yoongi pauses for a moment. Why would Seokjin his good friend of over 10 years lie to him?

There are many reasons actually like that one time he took that sandwich out the fridge that was clearly labelled “JINS DO NOT EAT” and ate it right in his face or that other time when he tripped Jin up during rehearsals for no reason at all or that time—

“Trust me she was like really serious about it and—”

Yeah Yoongi doesn’t believe him, not one bit.

“So why are you telling me this shouldn’t you go talk to Joon about this stuff?”

“You know how Namjoon is can’t say no to her like… ever she would be gone before we know it and i thought about bringing it up with Jungkook but you also know how he is..”

“What about Jimin? Hobi? The fucking company, why me?”

“It’s just ‘cuz she said- never mind it’s not important forget i mentioned this”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing… i just i- i don’t want you to think it’s your fault or anything”

“So it’s my fault”

Yoongi now sits fully up right on the couch he was once slouched on with his eyebrows furrowed and gaze locked on Jin.

Jin bites back another smirk.

“No! not at all she just said some… stuff don’t worry about it!”

“What did she say” It’s not a question anymore.

“Well just that maybe you could uh.. be nicer or something?”

“Nicer?” Yoongi is now fully stood up one fist clenched and a head full of questions.

“Me? …Nicer?”

“That’s what she said” Jin shrugs.

Yoongi knows he isn’t the best to his fellow members often rejecting their various displays of affection and saying somewhat mean things to them on occasion. Sure he might of ‘lovingly’ punched a few of them a couple times called them some unkind names but not you! well he did call you a bitch once … or twice but you knew he was joking right? And he says sorry… sometimes, so Yoongi’s not even that mean, not at all, like it’s tough love or whatever. Yoongi can be nice. Yoongi is nice.

Yoongi stares back at Jin.

“Do you… think i could be nicer?”

There’s a pause.

“Well…”

Oh. Ok maybe Yoongi isn’t as nice as he thought he was. But it wasn’t that bad.

“…just considering she wants to leave the group because of it…”

Right. It’s is that bad.

Yoongi’s gaze drops the floor momentarily. He notices his phone that once held his attention now resides ontop of the fluffy carpet beneath his feet, but that’s the least of his concern right now. He feels a little sick and a whole lot embarrassed.

“Did she uh say anything else… about me i mean” He looks everywhere but Jin another wave of embarrassment taking over him as the question leaves his mouth.

Jin cocks his head at Yoongi in clear amusement, Not that Yoongi could catch onto it anyways too caught up in his own mind at the moment.

“How about we discuss this over coffee my treat! I think there’s a way we can sort this all out”

—

part 2 HERE

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @blairebangtan @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos

[gojinka]

🚧 I’m carny, (he/him, 19) but feel free to call me WorldSewage, World, Sewage, Gatored, any other iteration of it, as long as I know you’re talking about me. This is a side account!

Click read more and scroll to the ⚠️ section for a FAQ!

Some of my content WILL be suggestive. Please block #suggestive (or maybe even nsfw?) if you’re uncomfortable with this content! I can’t imagine that I’ll ever be drawing sexually explicit (exposed genitalia) nsfw content but block the tags NSFW just in case…

AU content will be rolled out slowly, I am not a very fast artist, but my ask box will always remain open, so feel free to ask questions (chances are it will be answered! Albeit slowly!)

I love my mutuals, do not be afraid to talk to me! I can’t promise I’ll be super chatty, but I want it to be known that I love a good conversation. I don’t know how to convey this so often I wind up drawing your characters.

If you bastards open up a white board, @ me! I want to join! (Joking)

Homerun Au / ABOUT ME / extra art / info under the cut! 📌

My agents:

Alligator : (she/her)

Saint : (they/them)

Valentine : (they/them) (and she/her? But sparingly, they’d prefer if you would begin with they/them, you can ease into she / her.)

July : (they/them)

My tags are formatted pretty clearly, but just in case:

Homerun au - pertains to all information / art that takes place in this au, my agents are all designed to fit into this au— BUT, can be viewed as canon compliant if you want :]

Most of my character tags are formatted like “Name ( thing they are )” — (examples: “saint (Neo 3) , fido (oc) , carny (sona) , valentine (agent 8) )

Carnying - off topic posts , I don’t usually vent publicly , but most of my rambling will probably be under this tag. I also tag off topic (ie non splatoon asks) with carnying at times.

EMERGENCY EXIT - name of my Splatoon Idol ocs, I still tag their names, but this is the name of the group.

My art - is my art tag… I usually always tag the characters featured in my art.

Doodles - a not very often used tag… I use it for WIPs or joke drawings sometimes? I forget this tag exists frequently … I do use it for WIPS.

Salmonids/Octarians/Inkling tags - usually for world building or headcannons…!

⚠️ I draw on JSPAINT or on Procreate: I use primarily custom brushes.

⚠️ catch me on my Main account— @gatored , and for warrior cats content: @rendside

⚠️ here’s my artfight to those who are interested! https://artfight.net/~Gatored

⚠️ I don’t currently have a toyhouse, when I make one, I’ll link it here!

⚠️ I do not take commissions (currently.)

⚠️ I don’t know how I pick colors, I just do. I would like to make a tutorial some say, but I have no idea what I’m doing!

⚠️ art requests are ok! I’m willing to do art trades, but as of right now, I am unavailable:)

⚠️ I’m okay with fan art! Please just don’t be weird! I’m okay with oc interaction fanart but only with my splatoon ocs!!

⚠️ Please mind the ages of my characters, any inappropriate comments made towards characters who are children / depicted as children (ie. Characters who are 18+ but in the post are under age) will be killed.

⚠️ He/Him. Refrain from using “they�� to the best of your ability… I’m 19– January birthday, year of the rooster. I’m the guy who draws the bipedal salmonids.

⚠️ I work in the kitchen and get paid minimum wage and I love my job and life to bits, I am not a “professional” artist, but I work quite a bit, so my drawing time isn’t very long.

⚠️ I don’t believe DNIs work, but let it be known AI / transphobes / unsolicited critiques will be blocked. I abuse the block button, at times.

⚠️ feel free to tag me! I don’t mind! If you have questions Asks are the best way! I don’t respond often to Direct Messages.

⚠️ you are required to compare my art to various foods. (Joke. but I will smile big if you do this)

——

🥩— I can’t promise I’ll update the below as of posting this (3/6/23) so please check out the “HOMERUN AU” tag for all information, but here are some quick links for those interested!

I know this au MAY seem a tad confusing, but I’m updating it as I go!

Homerun World Building: X — X

SQUIDSISTERS X — Evil Callie + “MUD” — 🐙Octavio

DEEPCUT: “Return of the Mammalians” (designs) (designs + small information) (bigman comic)

[anomaly-hivemind]

Collar ID || collaring w/Yuri Briar x Afab! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 1609

Tags: dom! reader, POC reader,flogging, latex, cock stepping, groveling, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, degradation, praise kink, squirting

I was sitting in bed, bonnet on snuggly , with a can of fruit in hand. Watching some random comedy horror that I found on netflix. It was only to pass the time while I waited for my boyfriend. It was around the usual time that Yuri would be on his way home if nothing came up. I scroll a bit on my phone when I get a notification from Yuri.

“Gonna be a bit late coming home, I got a bit of paperwork I want to finish. “ The message read and I let out an annoyed sigh. I don’t feel like waiting for him to finish work because I know that just means he's not going to get home until I was long asleep. I smile, as a mischievous idea comes to mind.

I take my oversized top off, my naked breast getting the blunt of the cold air from this bedroom. I lay on my stomach and posed so that my butt was in the view of my camera. I push my tits together and set my timer so I can take a photo. When the picture was taken I sent it to Yuri.

“Can't wait for you my pet, I miss you ;]” I sent the message right after the photo and waited.

Read.

Wow this was my breaking point. He couldn’t even dignify my unadulterated sexyness with a whiny emoji or anything!

I dropped my phone on the bed and went to my closet. I pushed past my regular clothes to where all my lingerie was. Silk was soft, coquette, not the vibe I was looking for. Lace? No, no it still had an air of delicacy.

Here, perfect. Latex. I hadn’t worn this set before. I smirk as I slip into the snug latex body suit. The suit hugged my curves tightly, had a boob window, the back out and the crotch exposed. If anything, it was a shame, I didn’t wear it as often. I sent Yuri another photo this time in my bodysuit.

“I don't appreciate you leaving me to read ):( ” I text him, and again get left on read but faster this time. What the hell is he doing?

A few minutes pass and the house opens and an out of breath boyfriend walks into the house. Yuri walks over to me with a desperate look on his face, his strong grip on my shoulders.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Yuri dropped to his knees and kissed me on my neck.

“I’ll only give you a light punishment since you came home earlier than normal.” I kept a straight face even if his kisses felt good.

“You're still gonna punish me… but I came home early.” yuri whined as he tried to give me the puppy dog eyes. Too bad for him that shit hardly works on me.

“Maybe if you beg for my entire forgiveness I'll let you go.” I smirk, my words were a set up and I'm sure he knows it. But that doesn’t matter, he was going to do what I said anyway.

Yuri dropped to his knees in front of me, he leaned down and placed a kiss on my foot. A smile grows on my face as he does, I stare at his cute butt. He looked out at me and I could see the lust in his eyes. I moved down to sit on our bed, he started to kiss up from the ankle to my upper calf.

“Strip.” I lean over to a drawer beside the and up out a dog collar, my eyes never leaving Yuri. I watch with a smile as he slowly takes off his uniform. I clip the collar around his neck, the cold dog tags make his skin shiver. He was shirtless and was making his way out his pants. He was hunched over in his boxers, his erection twitching and was practically begging for my attention. I pressed my foot against his crotch, giving his cock a light shove. He let out a little whine that made my cunt throb. I tilt his chin up so that he is looking up at me.

“So do you have something to tell me, pet?” I hold his face in place, squishing his cheeks slightly.

“I’m sorry….”

“For?” my toes pinch his balls and he tenses up, the dog tags of his collar jigging as he moves.

“Leaving you on read?” I nod.

“And” I ran my hand through his hair.

“Always co-coming home late.”

“Good boy, What do you think I should do now? Forgive you or pushish you?” my smirk grew a bit as i already knew what my little freak would say.

“My love, please forgive me, I want to taste you” he shuffled a bit closer, pushing my foot harder against his weeping dick. He whimpered from the pressure but I wasn’t going to cave. I could feel his dick growing harder under my foot and pressed my hut down harder.

“You would like that wouldn't you.” I adjusted the strap of my latex bodysuit, loosening the strings so I could move it better as I pleased. I put more pressure on his cloth cock practically stepping on him and he groaned.

“Please, my love…” Yuri moaned breathlessly.

“No. You won’t tempt me, you seducer, and I’m sick that you keep trying to get out of your punishments.

“But-“

“Hush, Pet, now bend over. I’ve had enough of this disrespect.

Yuri gulped hard, “Yes ma’am,”

Yuri walked over to the storage drawers in the closet and pulled out. A leather flog, I rubber by thumb over the braided handle of the flog I make sure to pull him fully out of his boxers.

“Baby, please.” he pouts and holds back a whimper.

“You better keep count or I'm going to start over, nut i guess I slut like you would like that.” I swing the flog over his asscheek.

“One…” Yuri made sure to say through his yelp. We repeat this fourteen other times before I'm somewhat satisfied to stop. Yuri had hot adorable tears threatening to drop down his face, it would almost make me feel bad if I hadn't known how much he enjoyed this.

He had his tell-tell signs; like how his dick was pretty much begging to cum or how he tried to hold back moans and groans with each solid impact I made on his body.

“Okay now if you can make me cum I’ll forgive your little behavior,” I said, placing one hand on my hip and the other soothingly rubbing Yuri‘s ass.

“Yes ma’am,” Yuri said, straightening up.

I laid back on the bed, spreading my legs open to expose my glistening pussy. Yuri inches closer, I could feel his breath on my folds.

“Go ahead, I know a loose man like yourself is dying without your fix,” I said and without hesitation Yuri dived in.

His tongue runs a slow stride to my clit, he was savoring the taste as he let out a pleased murmur. He was slurping up my juices like he didn't drink anything in months. Lapping up my arousal like he was on a mission and knowing my lover boy, he definitely sees this as such. He was a military man after all, working for the police and such.

But none of that was really important right now. I was too busy feeling the great action of Yuri sliding his fingers into my wetness. The way he curled his digits against my walls, made me fall back onto the bed and let out a moan. He alway knew how to get me going, how to push me closer and near to the edge. I could feel him smirk against my cunt and I pulled his hair in a quick yank that made him moan.

Yuri starts to focus more on my clit, making sharp circles on the nub, and long sucks that make my toes curl. His fingers thrusted onto my spot and I let out a short cry, he was going to make me cum any second now.

The feeling was winding up in my core, a coil ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re such a good slut, isn't that right?” I asked, running my fingers through Yuri’s hair. He hummed, against my muff the soft vibrations traveling through the mound of flesh..

As Yuri’s fingers stroked my g-spot and he sucked on my clit, something finally snapped. Warm fluid gushed from my pussy making a mess on Yuri’s face but like a good pet he lapped it up, and licked off what ran down my folds. My hips bucked from the sensitivity of having just cum, into the air and subsequently against Yuri’s face.

“Fuck. That was good.” I said breathlessly, my body sliding down so I was laying down more than sitting up.

“Does that mean all is forgiven… Ma’am” Yuri asked with his pathetic boy slut face.

“Fine, I forgive you now. But if you do that shit again I'll come up with a way harsher punishment. Understand. “ I said sternly even if I was a bit out of breath my point came across the way it was supposed to be and that's all that mattered.

“Yes ma'am.” he nods and licks his lips off my juices.

“Good now, come up here, I want to cuddle.” I pull him into a hug as soon as he gets close enough to fall into my grasp.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Burn Bright White - Chapter Five.

Thanks to my lovely Diana and Lindsey for their enthusiasm, as always <3

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,513

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don’t like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn’t tolerated here. At all. Remember, it’s fiction, not a documentary ;) It’s also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

After returning to the bar, she headed inside to wash the blood from her hands and tidy herself a little, buying another round. Sitting there, still buzzing from her altercation, it was violence they found themselves discussing firstly. She firstly learned he had a background in martial arts, but the way he delivered answers to some of her questions, well, it was certainly unique. 

He was, at times, the conversational equivalent of a broken sat nav; he could never get from point A to B without several detours, more often than not never even arriving at point B at all. Of course, she’d witnessed that in him, watching him being interviewed, knowing it was a mixture likely borne of his desire to be vague when it suited him, and surprisingly candid when it didn’t.  

“I have my father to thank for my temperamental streak,” she began, lighting a cigarette and knocking the pack across the table to him. “He always said to me, ‘Tai, you were blessed with your mother’s looks, but cursed with her small stature. But it is no matter. I will show how to be tiny, yet mighty’, and he did.” 

Niklas had indeed noticed that it was only her choice of footwear that made her tall, Taissa continuing. “He taught me how to shoot, wield knives and bare-knuckle fight. Well, when he wasn’t in prison, that is. I went from the piss-weak, skinny little kid to the one turning over the playground bullies for the money and trinkets they’d stolen from other kids fairly quickly.”  

They had a paternal common ground, it seemed. “Prison is where my father remains. He’s... well. I’m my father’s son, let’s put it that way. Except he’s much worse than I am.”  

“I think I’m probably at the same level as hostile as my dad when antagonised, except I’m not a Nazi and he is, unfortunately. I still adore him, though, that aside. He looks menacing, too. Imagine Zakk Wylde with a shaved head, but over two metres tall and covered in Neo-Nazi tattoos, and you have my papa.  

“Some might call it perverse that my taste in men is somewhat similar. I like a tall guy with more hair on his face than his head, covered in ink.” She paused, reaching to drag her finger in a slow glide down his cheek. “What’s scary to some is sexy fucking beast to me.”  

Turning his head, he bit her finger, sucking it into his mouth, Taissa’s eyes narrowing at him although a smile danced upon her lips. “What did I tell you about biting me, Kvarforth?” 

Releasing her finger, he looked mildly incredulous, reaching beneath her hair to stroke the purple bite at the side of her neck. “Bit late for that, isn’t it?”  

It jolted through her, the memory of his groan when he’d bitten her, the feel of his cock flooding her with cum as he’d pounded her against the hallway wall. The air seemed to crackle as they stared at one another, both in silent challenge of the other to look away first. 

“Did you say your apartment is two minutes away?”  

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as desire began to lap in waves through her, remembering the heat of it, having him all over her. It didn’t help matters when his fingers began to glide across her neck, the touch chasing a herd of goose pimples over her skin. “Shall we go now?” 

He looked thoughtful for a moment, standing slowly. “No. I think I’ll make you wait for it a little longer first.” 

Bastard. That wasn’t to say she’d take it lying down, though. Well, eventually she would.  

“So, tell me. Why did you choose your career path, lucrative payoff aside?” he asked after returning from the bar, placing the bottle of Never Say Die bourbon he’d been requesting down on the table. There was just under a third left, and so as not to have to suffer being inside the bar any more than he absolutely had to, he’d talked the barmaid into selling him what remained.  

“I enjoy having that power over somebody. I have what they need, and I get to profit off of that. Much like you, I am not a people person, beyond what they can do for me. I live a very good life from their addiction, their weakness. This will never cease being thrilling to me.”  

Brutal honesty. He respected that. Seldom few were the same. 

“Before I started buying from your brother,” he began, Taissa rapidly shaking her head. 

“Me. You buy from me. I stand at the helm,” she interrupted. 

“From you,” he continued, “I used to buy from a man named Stefan. I think he was probably one of the most fantastically dark individuals I have ever known. He used to have one hell of a kink, engineering it so junkies would overdose and masturbating as he witnessed them die. I went with him once, but she didn’t fucking die. Shame, I’d have liked to witness that.” 

Taissa knew exactly what he was doing, seeing if he could force some kind of shock reaction from her. She gave none. “Did you hear how he died?” 

Curiosity piqued within him. “He’s dead? I assumed he’d been arrested when I could no longer reach him. That was usually the way when he went quiet.” 

“No, he did a Michael Hutchence. Died by autoerotic asphyxiation. He was found hanging in his bedroom, cock still hard, with a twelve-inch dildo suctioned onto the floor beneath him.”  

Niklas couldn’t help but laugh at that. “This does not surprise me in the slightest. That man propositioned me multiple times.” 

Her eyebrow raised. “And did you?” 

“No, men don’t do it for me,” he revealed, sipping his drink. “I am alas a fucking slave to what you women have between your legs.”  

“Alas?” she questioned, kicking off her shoe beneath the table, beginning to slowly slide her foot up his inner thigh. “Why is that?” 

“Because you are all cunning, terrible creatures.” His eyes flitted down, seeing her red-painted toes press into his crotch. “Case in point.”  

“Guilty as charged,” she shrugged, beginning to massage his cock with the ball of her foot. “But you like it.”  

Her assertion was correct, but he didn’t confirm, shifting in his seat a little as he felt himself beginning to harden. Fuck, this woman. Tempress didn’t cut it.  

Just then, the sound of gears being furiously crunched attracted their attention, both turning to see a car haphazardly shuddering up the street. At the same time, they shouted the exact same words. 

“Put it in H!” 

Niklas’s eyes snapped to her in an instant. A Simpsons fan. He rarely met them these days, it seemed. “So, not only can she quote The Simpsons, but she can recall the most obscure quotes, too. Interesting.” 

Taissa pointed to the car, the driver of which continuing to struggle. “She’ll go three hundred hectares on a single tank of kerosene.”  

He couldn’t help but begin laughing. Her impersonation of the Crazy Vaclav character was utterly perfect. “What country is this car from?” 

“It no longer exists.” They both fell into soft laughter at that, their little skit from the cartoon having them both feeling entertained.  

“I remember the first episode I ever saw, with Homer repeatedly falling down the cliff,” she reminisced, snorting with laughter. “I was about five, I think. My mother thought I was warped to find it so funny, but it’s the funniest moment for certain,” she spoke, Niklas yanking her foot away from his crotch and resting it on his thigh instead, idly playing with her toes.  

He clicked his fingers, pointing at her. “Agreed.” It was a strange juxtapose, two people who so revelled in the darker, more criminal side of life, both having an affinity for the iconic, light-hearted cartoon. “A close second is him losing it in episode based on The Shining. No TV and no beer make Homer go crazy.” 

She beamed, obliging him in continuation. “Don’t mind if I do!” Her enactment of Homer indeed going crazy had him booming with laughter, people turning to stare. It was utterly ridiculous, the black metal musician and the drug dealer, broken from the veneer of hardness surrounding them, as well as their mental and sexual teasing by the reciting of a kid’s cartoon.  

He topped up their glasses with the last of the bourbon, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, offering her one, too. All while his other hand preoccupied itself with her foot. 

“How are you enjoying my toes?” 

Looking down at the dainty foot, he then stared at her intently. “I’ll be enjoying them much more when they’re in my mouth.”  

Oooh, the wink he followed those words with. Her pussy clenched in an instant. “Got a thing for feet, hmm?” 

A thing was putting it mildly. “You could say that. Feet, feet in high heels, in nylons. Legs in nylons. My fetishes are well-documented.” Running his index finger down the centre of her foot, he rotated it a few times before returning it to tickle over her toes. “What are your fetishes?” 

“Money and power.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I meant sexual, and you know that I did.” 

“Who said money and power can’t be sexual?” Watching him, she knew from his lowered gaze, the expectance in his eyes, that he wouldn’t accept that. Well, if there was ever a time to tease a little more... “Having the weight of a man on me, feeling pinned, being held down. I’m boss in every aspect of my life, and I rarely deviate in the bedroom. Sometimes, though, I like to submit.”  

She certainly had when he’d picked her up and fucked her against his hallway wall. Then again, with the sexual force of nature that was Niklas, she’d had little choice.  

The information shared was met by a look of appreciation, his glass lifted, the contents sunk in one gulp. “Drink up, and I can make that happen for you.” 

Pulling her foot from his grasp, she slid it in a slow glide down his leg, looking out from beneath her long lashes at him. Picking up the glass, she made a show of licking her lips before tipping the warming bourbon down her throat, slipping her foot back into her shoe. “Let’s go.”  

Time seemed to move slowly as they walked to the end of the row, turning the corner, Taissa keying in her code on the front door. It felt like a storm brewing, the heat gathering thickly as they stepped into the elevator, heading three floors up, the air becoming heavy, glances stolen, the anticipation creeping over them like a fog.  

Putting the key in her door, she felt him sweep her hair from her neck, teeth biting down, the pin pricks of pain melting like icicles trickling down her spine, turning to pull him to her level and kiss him with ferocity. He herded her backwards, lifting her with ease, the open plan of the large space meaning he didn’t need to inquire over bedroom location. Clothes were shed en route, their bodies hitting the bed, mouths locked together as he pinned her beneath his weight, taking her wrists in an encircled grip and pressing them either side of her head.  

“How’s that?”  

How was that? Enough to feel the petals of her cunt begin to become slick for him, Taissa transfixed at watching the blue of his eyes almost eclipsed entirely by rapidly inking pupils. “Amazing, but it can wait.” Pulling from the grip, she pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him off of her and back to his feet. “Right now, there’s not much I need more than your cock in my mouth.”  

He hummed a chuckle, raising an eyebrow as his hand tangled in her hair, giving it a short, sharp tug. “I’m not about to stop... that.”  

The pause between words couldn’t be helped, his breath hitching, watching himself vanish completely between her full lips. She kept him swallowed back, her mouth pulsing around the very base of his cock a few times, tongue flickering the underside before slowly gliding back up his shaft. Just that, and she already had him mindless. The feel of her nails scraping down his sides only added to it. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, chest shuddering, transfixed at the sight, his hand tightening in her hair again sharply. “You look even prettier, choking on my cock.” 

Pushing further into her throat, he triggered her gag reflex, Taissa releasing him to spit on his shaft, pumping it with her hand thereafter, tongue gliding over the tip. It made lightning begin to flicker at the base of his spine, roughly forcing himself back between her lips again, grunting quietly when her fingers began to pinch and twist at one of his nipples.  

“Oh, even though it’s a little late, you’d better not fucking have herpes or anything else nasty. I’ll fucking cut your balls off if you do,” she spoke, sucking the head of his cock, Niklas laughing through his nose. He didn’t doubt she would. 

“Surprisingly, I actually don’t. I got forced into an STI test recently, so I know I’m fine.” 

She paused, her eyebrow fluttering. “Forced?” 

“Mm,” he hummed, watching himself disappear in her mouth once more. “If you bareback two patients in the same mental facility as you within the space of forty-eight hours, they make you get tested.” 

“Animal,” she quipped, turning her head to bite the side of his hip. 

“I have a feeling that is exactly what you like about me.” He wasn’t wrong, Taissa returning her mouth to his cock and once again, making him vanish. Fuck, she was too good at sucking dick, Niklas feeling himself beginning to ascend quite rapidly, fingers weaving tighter in her hair as he began to fuck her mouth, his chest starting to rise and fall more rapidly.  

Feeling him becoming firmer within her mouth gave her the most delicious little shocks of excitement, becoming dewier at her apex, imagining how it would soon feel to have him inside her, her arousal glowing like moonbeams through the very depths of her.  

That gathered excitement spurred her mouth quicker upon him, her tongue teases becoming more potent, Niklas’s hand still clutched hard upon her hair. His gravelly groans became more frequent, her lips tightening, oh, so tight around him, pleasure skittering over his tremble-wracked body.   

The embers began to crackle, glowing, ever nearing bursting into flame, Taissa sensing it, speeding her mouth up until she felt him pulsing between her lips, shooting his load onto her tongue with a guttural grunt as his hips swayed forward, swallowing back every last hot spurt. 

“Sufficiently ruined?” 

The look he gave her was all darkened lust, pushing her back on the bed, yanking her legs up and taking one of her feet, sucking her toes with a groan. “No. Trust me, though. You’re about to be.”  

She could barely wait. 

[regal-rosebuds]

Hello again. This is a past anonymous. I'm sorry for constantly bothering you here (if that's the case). I mean, since I'm new here, I ask quite a lot of questions, even banal ones. Of course, I try to figure everything out with the help of independent searches, but it doesn't always work out so well, alas. So, I just wanted to know. You have some special blogs (you know the same regressors, maybe dreamers, educators) and special people with whom you have already established close contact in this… Is it a community, if that's what you can call it? I understand that this can be quite personal information, so if it's too much, then you don't have to answer. It's just that because I'm new and I keep coming across different places, posts, blogs, even in my searches, but I don't really know how to do it… to start… Are there acquaintances here? I'm sorry if it sounded crumpled, I honestly don't know how to express my thought more clearly and clearly.

It can also send a double message, I'm sorry if that happens.

ꔫ No worries!! No need to apologize, my blog is here to answer questions like these! Don’t feel like a bother when you’re just trying to learn.

ꔫ Maybe you want to use an emote signifier so I’ll know it’s you each time!

ꔫ But I digress.

ꔫ Many of my friends in agere or carers are people who I already knew elsewhere but taught about regression. I have met a good few friends from agere discord servers though!

ꔫ I used to be really active in the regression discord community, but it got a bit stressful with my other life factors.

ꔫ As far as Tumblr goes, I don’t have many, if any, close friends on here! Much of my posting is replying to randoms. I do have a few mutuals, but I don’t often go out of my way to become mutuals with others or talk very often with them simply because I’m not too educated on how that part of Tumblr culture works!

ꔫ TL;DR I’m pretty much flying as solo as you are!

ꔫ People like you with kind messages or likes or reblogs are pretty much the only way I know that my posts are coherent!

ꔫ For me, it was better to create an agere lifestyle off of social media with the help of close friends. That way you have an anchor and kind of know what content you’re interested in/looking for.

ꔫ When I’m not posting here, I’m just scrolling through tags or being taken care of by my Knights while I’m regressed.

ꔫ It’s best not to over complicate it in my opinion!

ꔫ P.S. it is 5 am, so sorry if some of my sentences don’t make complete sense!

[delicatelystrangepolice]

I said it before and I’m saying it now: Young Royals fandom only claims to be SO POSITIVE AND LOVING when in fact it’s one of the most toxic fandoms that I’ve ever been in

It’s very unwelcoming when it comes to the critique and different opinions

I understand the mechanism of feeling protective over the things you love. I also know that every fandom (every community in fact) is made out of individuals and it should be transgressive, and changing as it goes. The excuse ‘yeah, people on the internet are like this, there will always be individuals who are toxic’ just doesn’t work for me. No, individuals make communities and those communities can only work and grow when there’s enough space for all sorts of different behaviors and opinions. You would think that Young Royals fans would be understanding of that – always so eager to scream about social injustice. (I guess Lisa’s message that you can’t change anything ever was effective in the end. Congratulations.)

Last year there was a lot of lamenting: I can’t believe it’s going to be over after s3, what’s going to happen to the loveliest fandom then??? And then every time anybody tried to say anything other than widely accepted headcanon people raised and screamed: oh, don’t spread the negativity! Always in an exaggerated tone: I’M SO TIRED OF THE NEGATIVITY CAN’T WE JUST PLEASE LOVE EACH OTHER?? No, we can’t.  We can’t and stop silencing people because you are killing this fandom.

People are leaving (and left before) not because the show ended, not even because the third season was a fucking disaster, but because they feel like they can’t say anything other than lovey-dovey gushy mushy bullshit.

I understand that the critique is more accepted when it’s beautifully written and coherent

Tumblr however is also a blogging platform where people process things individualistically.  You don’t have to follow people who don’t share your opinions. Hell, you can even block them. You shouldn’t however go into their blog and write them mean anons because they dared to say something on their blog. (Yes, even if it was in your beloved tag or you saw that accidentally. Learn to fucking scroll past things) Your input that you think this particular person’s opinion is stupid and should be taken down does NOTHING to spread your beloved positivity. It only makes people shut down and you know what that is going to result in? A bland, weak fandom made out of people in an echo chamber.

Communities can grow because of the negativity

Even if the show ended, there will be people in the future who will watch it and love it and maybe love it enough to want to go on Tumblr and seek others to share the love. Among those people, there will be also the ones who won’t love every single thing about the show and they will seek others to share some disappointments too. If you want this community to stay alive and growing, there must be space for some fucking negativity.

Fandoms are often about finding your niche. This fandom, this fake fucking positivity almost killed the enjoyment of the show for me. I was lucky enough to find my niche but imagine if the people I found left before I got there. Maybe you’d be happy that I’m not here, spilling some hard to accept truths. Maybe you like your fandoms to be small and cliquey. I don’t. I found my niche because I wasn’t afraid to speak about my negative experiences.

Another helpful tip to some people here: don’t make personal claims when you are trying to argue with somebody

I’ve seen enough of ‘you must be (something negative or personal) to think this’:  ‘you must be too young to understand’ ‘you must be racist’ Hell, on one horrible occasion I’ve seen ‘you must have been abused to have this take’ HOLY SHIT. You on the other hand must not be as welcoming and accepting as you claim to be to say something like this to a person who was just writing about a fucking tv show.

I think it’s very ironic that people celebrate the ending of the show: yeah, you should leave the toxic environment if it’s hurting you and then in the fandom people are leaving because they are being attacked.

Yeah, I’m talking about a small group of people who do it. They are very noticeable and the community is accepting of them. If you think I’m talking about you then great, I’m happy you’ve read it to the end. My ask box is open, but don’t think you’ll change my mind if you try to tell me things about me. I know how to delete things. I know how to ignore things. I hope you can too, and maybe you can also take a little critique from someone who’s been in many fandoms before and never felt as unwelcomed and as uncomfortable as I felt in Young Royals fandom.

[ladybeug]

was scrolling thru your art tag enjoying your comics when i suddenly discovered you were the one that wrote strangers in the bright lights. having gotten into miraculous only very recently, was tickled to experience a very small identity shenanigan of my own

incredible fic btw; i love it soooooo much. brilliant, hilarious, sweet, poignant. out of curiosity have you read much postww1 modernist stuff? i adored the usage of free indirect discourse for the narration, drunken and in motion and alive, almost reminded me of virginia woolf in a weird way lol. sorry if this is weird

Hello!! I'm about to get long-winded and self indulgent in this reply, fair warning :)

here goes:

Wow!! I don’t know how you found strangers in the bright lights if you got into ladybug in any time frame that can be described as “very recently”, I wrote that in 2018 when I was digesting some personal stuff and in a fantastic ladybug renaissance (of which I have now had several, I think I’ll die in this fandom).

But I’m so glad you somehow did. I only write every couple of years when I get really specific ideas, and the time I spend on it turns into memories of who I was when I wrote it. I feel like that must happen to actual writers too, ones who write often, but I haven’t written “often” since like 2009 and have never asked, so there you go.

But I guess that’s all to say that I am very attached to that story and it’s also one of the only things I’ve written that still feels like it hit the chord I was aiming for. It is so cool that anyone still reads it!!

To actually answer your question: I have never read virginia woolf, and the only modernist stuff I've read was years ago for school classes. I have to admit none of the style was inspired by classics, but instead inspired by the weird disassociation of trying to be alone in a crowd.

I have a final self-indulgent thought, it is a fun fact I realized as I was going down memory lane about this:

I associate ‘strangers in the bright lights’ with a friendship I made that stands out as one of the luckiest and rarest friendships I’ve made – I went to a mountain goats concert alone, and stood up at the front early, and met someone else who had gone to the same mountain goats concert alone and had stood up at the front early. It was one of the fastest and most comfortable connections I’ve made, and we liked each other so much we stayed in touch, even after they moved away. We are still in touch every so often, and as far as I’m concerned in a few years they’re going to publish the best fantasy novel you’ve ever read, so watch out for that.

The fanfiction is in part inspired by that beautiful feeling of meeting someone new that you want to talk to, and they want to talk to you, and a drink or two has propped up your self esteem and you don’t have to worry about who you are tomorrow, just who you are right now. It’s escapism. You feel important, and carried by that feeling, for as long as you are there. Lonely who? Not me. Trapped by past versions of myself, who? Not me.

Anyways the fun fact is - I found out this morning that concert was a year AFTER I posted this fanfiction. I didn't know about that moment of my life as I was writing this. The two are so connected in my mind that this is genuinely surprising, but the concert was in September 2019 and I published the fanfic a year beforehand.

In the words of mr. mountain goat himself: we held on to hope of better days coming, and when we did we were right!

[tourniquesence]

Juuust making a pinned post since tumblr is basically my primary form of social media now and I’m going to try and have an actual presence on this site lol

im melanie , 20+ and any pronouns are fine for me

Haven’t been as active as I’d like to be with it but I do occasionally post art here- you can check the #my art tag on my blog. Might post some personal project stuff here as well- placeholder tag for that rn is #my projects. Also, random rants/personal posts will be under #rambles

I reblog 18+ content at times, please don’t follow me if you’re underage-I’ll block you if you do. I can be pretty liberal with blocking people in general, most of the time it’s really not personal at all and just me cultivating my dashboard

Also, if you harass people over fiction/shipping… plz just block me. that would be the most productive outcome for everyone. I don’t post about it often, and I do try to tag more obvious triggers where I can (can’t promise I’ll be consistent there) but I appreciate a lot of “dead dove” content. If that’s not your thing, totally fair! But I’d recommend not following me🤷

At the moment,I mostly just reblog fandom stuff and the occasional funny/old man yells at cloud post on here- I try to tag spoilers where I can but can’t promise I’ll be able to be consistent about it so…scroll at your own risk

Things I post/reblog about more often about than others:

Visual art

Umineko

Revolutionary girl utena

Type-moon

Gravity falls

Monster

Homestuck

Undertale

Twin peaks/david lynch content in general

The sopranos

Hannibal

Aaand a *whole* lot of content about random movies, visual novels , video games , anime/manga and tv shows and ship art

If you’d like, feel free to shoot me a message! I’m happy to talk with people but not always the best at responding

Welp, that’s all I feel like sharing about myself for now lol

[lady-bess]

Just A Date - Tim Rockford

Part of the LadyBess Valentine's special! 8 Characters; 8 Dates 💜

Detective Tim Rockford x GN!Reader Mature/18+ (Minors DNI Please✨) WC: 1.2k Notable Tags: References to gun-holsters being used in the bedroom, Yeah we're starting off strong, Valentine's Date Ruined, Backup Date, Chinese Takeout, References to Alcohol, References to Sex, Kissing, Swearing, Fluff, SFW (nearly).

To say this detective only got a mere 48-seconds of screen time, he’s very quickly become a favourite in the Pedro-verse! And man, with gun holsters like that, I can see why…

Anyway!

We don’t know much about Tim, so I’ve taken a fair few creative liberties with this one! I hope that I still do the man justice!

“Rockford, I’m sorry, but this case needs working tonight. A lead has opened up, and if we don’t act now we might not get a chance again,” his boss said. Tim sighed, knowing this would definitely derail his plans with you tonight, but he understood the need.

“No worries, sir. Let me just call my partner though, alright? I’m sure you can appreciate we did have plans tonight,” he said.

“I thought you might, and I’m so sorry. I’ll tell you what, I’ll throw in an extra day of paid leave in for you for making you miss your plans tonight,” he offered.

“Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, smiling faintly before pulling his phone out to call you.

It had been a bummer for sure when Tim cancelled, but you were understanding. His job was demanding, and you knew from day one that his rank within the force meant he often had to prioritise work over his personal life. Tim had never minded so much, and outwardly he never complained. But you knew, deep down, that it irritated him.

At the end of the day though, he loved his work, and what he did kept the streets a much safer place. You’d sacrifice all your nights with him if it meant that he got to continue his good work. At least he now got to come home to you.

Moving in together had been the best decision you’d made, and it had made a lot of sense in the end. Both your jobs kept you tied to your desks for longer than you’d both ever like to admit, so at least now you got to spend some more time together by sharing the same bed every night. Your relationship had only gone from strength to strength ever since that day you were given a set of keys to his place.

The front door to your apartment opened several hours later. You were lay on the couch, idly scrolling through the TV channels, seeing if there were any films being showed that you fancied watching. Sure, you had streaming services, but something about watching a film ‘live’ hit different.

“Sweetheart?” Tim shouted from the door.

“In here!” you called out.

Tim smiled at the sound of your voice, the sound instantly making him feel like he was well and truly home. This had been where he lived for many years, but until you came along it hadn’t felt like somewhere he wanted to put roots down.

He slipped his coat off and hung it on the back of the kitchen chair, then headed through to you in the lounge. In his hand he held a white plastic bag, filled with his vague attempt at making up for tonight.

You smiled wide as he appeared in the doorway, his tie already loosened around his neck, brown curls ruffled and dishevelled. Tim smiled over at you, his eyes creasing behind his thick framed glasses. You could tell just by looking at him that he was exhausted, but behind the fatigue was a happiness to see you.

“Hey, you,” he said, “Sorry I had to stay late. I’m hoping this might make it up to you?” he asked, raising the white plastic bag. You furrowed your brow, sitting up on the couch and squinting at the logo on the bag.

“What is it?” you asked, and Tim slowly headed over to you. He set down the plastic bag on the coffee table, then sank down onto the couch next to you.

“Chinese takeout. It ain’t much, but I felt it was the least I could do after ruining our plans for tonight,” he said, a slight sigh coming from his lips as he relaxed into the couch. You smiled and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the cheek, just above the scruff of his beard. Tim smiled as he felt the warmth of your kiss seep into his skin, and turned to look at you.

“You haven’t ruined anything, Tim. You’re a great detective, and I’ll never hold it against you that sometimes work needs you more than I do,” you said, “I love you”.

“I love you too,” he said, reaching forward to caress your cheek, then softly kissed you. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to relax into his hold, all the pressures of your jobs disappearing at the contact of your skin on one another. “Come on, let’s eat before this gets cold!” he said.

You smiled and nodded, moving away from Tim to begin your assault on the plastic bag of takeout. It was always a bit of a wild card whenever Tim collected food, but there was always one guarantee: Chow Mein. Sure enough, you found a box of it tucked into the bottom, and giggled to yourself.

“You’re so predictable sometimes,” you said, getting the boxes out and spreading them out onto the table. Tim stood to his feet.

“Oh, shush!” he chuckled. “Now, fancy some wine with it too?” he said, heading over to the wine rack at the other side of the room.

“Only if you’re having some. Aren’t you working tomorrow?” you asked.

“I was, but not anymore! Boss gave me tomorrow off for fucking up tonight’s plans,” he said, pulling a bottle of red wine out the rack and then heading to get some glasses.

“Oh, brilliant! Shall we watch a film then, if we can be up a bit later?” you asked, opening up the takeout boxes and beginning to separate the chopsticks provided. Tim came back into the room a few moments later, a generous glass of wine in either hand, and he came to sit next to you.

“We sure can! Although, I’ll be frank, once we’ve eaten all of this there’s only one thing I wanna do tonight,” he chuckled, kissing your jaw once he was settled back into the couch as his hands worked away at his tie. You giggled, blushing bright red, and had to hide the wide grin across your face. Even after all this time of knowing each other, he still managed to reduce you to a complete puddle.

“Stop it, you!” you teased, jokingly slapping his thigh. “Get those gun holsters off and have your dinner with me!”.

Tim sat up, grabbing you around the waist, and buried his head in the crook of your neck. His lips danced along your ears delicately, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end. Large hands spread out across your torso, keeping you pinned to his chest as he continued to tease you.

“I thought you liked it when I kept the holsters on?” he whispered, chuckling under his breath when you whimpered in pleasure at the thought that ran across the forefront of your mind.

Safe to say, it was the fastest either of you had ever eaten dinner in your entire life.

For more from this series, check out the Just A Date Masterlist! For more works from me, here's my main Masterlist! ❤

LadyBess xox

[otaku-orochi-okami]

Here We Go Again.

Urgh. Semi kept away. Last proper blog closed down for containing images of a well known influencer and her representatives asked for mine, and several other blogs, to be closed down due to copyright infringement. Did create an AI Waifu blog but my kinks are very dark, and tend to break Tumblr guidelines. Also ChatGPT, the framework that runs the AI chatbots I make, is adding more guard rails so more and more “can’t complete this” messages are popping up so that’s losing its charm too. So back here posting content. I won’t generally be tagging in names of people I post etc after the last blog for obvious reasons but if there’s anyone you like DM me the post and I’ll see if I can tell you who they are. 

So, first things first. This is a NSFW blog.  Normal boring stuff applies to that, MDNI blah blah blah. Feel free to DM me, sometimes I’ll reply, sometime i wont. Don’t take it personally if I don’t, sometimes just busy scrolling. For those who don’t know me, my names Lew, white male in my 30’s, living in UK. My kinks are niche, and tend to get me banned so stuff I post or reblog is just stuff I think is good or done well etc. I’m bi, prefer sex with guys but can’t stand them as anything more than fuck meat, girls I prefer aesthetically to look at and actually talk to, but find sex with them meh. And sissies are losers. That’s not necessarily a bad or a good thing. Depends on my mood.  Actually prefer 2D girls to 3D girls, 3D girls nearly always have some tiny flaw to stop them from being perfect. Plus a perfect girl is subjective anyway. Someone’s 10 is another guys 8. Either way, expect to find a mix of 2D and 3D stuff on here. As last bit might suggest, big fan of pop culture, so happy to talk video games, anime etc as well as kink, or obviously just exclusively one or the other of you don’t want to discuss both. 

Something I haven’t really shared with anyone, despite being in my 30’s, my body is fucking breaking. That’s thanks to boring medical condition I won’t get into. It’s not been too bad until recently, but lately it’s been getting worse. For now, I’m ok in day, but by evenings I’m in serious pain. So to those of you I do message often, preemptive apologies for when I go quiet. As for everyone else; if I’m posting after that time, it’s likely because I queue and schedule my posts, so please don’t assume I’m online and ignoring you. 

Talking of posts, I don’t do exposure any more, doing colabs with x-loservirgin-x really got me into that, but since then too much bitching after losers cum and begging me to take down posts (which is impossible because I can’t take down reblogs), or other losers getting riskier without me there to have guard rails up, even if you don’t realise i do have them, then blaming for when shit hits the fan. As for custom captions. I do them if I can be bothered is the short answer. Feel free to DM with pics or pics suggestions and a theme etc and if I feel like doing it I will. Customs will be DM’d back to you privately, only shared on my blog if you ask me to, so feel free if want to turn your sister etc into private goon fuel.

For the record, my Hard Limits that I won’t engage with are Penectomy, Animals and Minors. Also as a side note, if your profile says anything along the lines of you refusing to pay for femdom’s but please do it for free, I won’t engage with you. Not because I expect to be paid, but because we won’t click. You simply have no idea how the world works, and I have too many interesting toys to talk to rather than waste time with a naive loser unsuccessfully trying to freeload. That shouldn’t offend anyone worth taking to, and if that does offend you, you’re the problem.

As for AI, I have a cute little AI sidekick, River Paige. She may pop up every now and then, either as some images, or writing her own posts. We’ll see how that goes. Here she is:

Good to be back, will see how long I make it before nuked this time. 

If you wanna know more about me here’s a list of stuff I’m into:

[transgender-daemon-faerie]

Fae’s Intro Post

What do I call you?

You can call me Fae, or Alex, or Arthur, or Moon. I’m not huge on nicknames, but if you’d like to give me one, feel free to submit it for approval. I’m open.

How do I refer to you?

I like he/him/his, they/them/theirs, or ey/em/eirs

I prefer masculine descriptors, but do not have a preference on compliments.

What other blogs do you run?

@daemon-faerie-writes - writing blog, feel free to request a poem

@a-system-of-daemons-and-faeries - system blog

@the-daemon-faerie-is-a-witch - witchy side blog

@its-the-ides-of-march-bitch - everyone’s favorite tumblr holiday

@mallory-is-keen - rrhp✅

@i-make-it-a-fun-eral - rrhp✅

@so-youre-new-here - a guide for all the newbies

Nsfw content?

I try to keep it to a minimum, and tag it when I post it. That in mind, I am an adult and don’t always keep in mind what’s appropriate for the younger ones. Scroll at your own risk.

Dni?

Nah. We both know those things don’t work. I will let you know if I don’t appreciate your behavior on my blog. Or I’ll block you. The block button is my best friend.

Edit: If you somehow made it this far and you are someone who voted for Donald Tr*mp in 2024, you probably should go ahead and hit that block button. Make it easier on us both.

You’re really cool and I want to give you money

Not necessary, I’m here mostly for my own entertainment. I stay broke but that’s just how it goes.

That said, if you feel so inclined

Cashapp- $thedaemonfaerie

PayPal- @thedaemonfaerie

If you send me something, I’d love to write you a poem just give me a little prompt and I’ll do the rest.

Can you tag (insert thing here)?

Probably not, if I’m perfectly honest. I’m truly abysmal at tagging. If I think about, I will. But more often than not I use the quick reblog feature.

I recommend using the tumblr filtering system to get rid of things you don’t want to see. Much easier than getting everyone you follow to tag something.

What are you working on these days?

When I have time I work on my book (it doesn’t have a title yet) the progress so far is on AO3, check it out and let me know what you think.

Why didn’t you reblog that donation post?

As a general rule, I don’t reblog donation posts for people I don’t know. I don’t have the mental energy to vet every post I see, and I get anxious about reblogging unvetted posts.

Please don’t send me donation asks

[supernovaa-remnant]

I heard about this Shubble person recently, I stayed out of drama as much as I could but, what happened now??? You even wrote this in one of your tags "#I really did love him a lot (parasocially)". I was busy this week so I don't know what is happening now.

I highly recommend people watch Shubble’s vod on her twitch channel (I don’t have a link but I can’t imagine it’s that difficult to find). Be mindful though as the vod does talk about abuse which is a very triggering topic, so make sure to be taking care of yourself. I’m gonna put the rest of the post under the cut, so people can easily scroll past this if they want to.

As a little summary, Shubble streamed yesterday and talked about her abusive ex. She didn’t name anyone, but she also wasn’t hiding who it was, and contrary to what some people may say, a lot of the dots being connected are stuff we know from past streams and comments from friends and not leaked info.

So, the incredibly most likely case is that it was Wilbur. I’m not gonna get into everything Shelby said because she said it on her stream, but the signs do point to Wilbur, and you’d have to reach significantly further to claim she was talking about someone else. There’s not a lot of British male ccs who have a bigger audience than her who have a history of biting people and have reason to be going on long travels (tour) where they wouldn’t see each other often.

Listen. I was a certified dreambur blog, okay? Everyone who glanced in my direction knew that I was a Wilbur fan. Everyone knows that I loved him so fucking much. But that’s not an excuse to bury my head in the sand and ignore everything, y’know?

Anyway, this is gonna be the last time I talk abt this publicly (I’m sure my friends will hear more in DMs though sorry <3), so I’m gonna throw a bit more stuff here abt my blog going forward.

I will eventually talk abt c!wilbur again. I’m still gonna write my silly little c!dreambur aus, I’ve just put them on the back burner. regardless of cc actions, I genuinely do love so many of the characters on the dsmp. I’ll probably be focused on some other fics for a while, but c!wilbur’s my cat and I don’t think he’s leaving my brain soon. I just need a little time.

I think cc!wilbur is someone who needs help. and I genuinely do hope he gets that help. but having mental health struggles isn’t an excuse. and I just can’t see myself engaging in his content in the foreseeable future. you’re not gonna see me post neg about him. you’re just likely not gonna see me post anything about him at all.

I’m happy to know Shubble has an amazing support system. I’m so sorry she had to go through something so horrible. I’m wishing her nothing but the best, and everyone should check out her YouTube channel!! I haven’t watched her newest video yet, but I did watch Lizzie’s pov of the collab, so I know it’s a fun concept

If people have questions that this post doesn’t answer, then I’m happy to answer them in DMs, but I don’t wanna talk abt this publicly anymore. (I reserve a right to change my mind though if I for some reason feel the need to post abt it again)

Anyway, take care of yourselves. Love is never ever wasted, okay? And all that love belongs to you. And it’s always a good thing to put more love out into the world. Never feel guilty for loving, okay? 🫂

[walmartpika]

My Little Introduction :3

Hiiiii!

I’m Pika! <3

I’m a Female digital artist and media obsessed nerd. (She/her)

I’m from a land far far away (my first language is not English), and I’ve come here to bless you with my fun art and movie/series insights. (don’t take anything/most things seriously :3)

I’ll be here to post whatever comes to mind.. this counts, doodles, art, random thoughts (most fandom related :3) or writing! (Literally, anything)

A common topic that im working on right now is the TrafficLightTrio, which I have with my two friends @ghostlydorito and @nyxxistic . This means, we’ll be sharing a lot of persona related stuff, stories, head cannons, and the universes we have created! (We travel…a lot..through the multiverse..)

Fandoms that will definitely be sharing is:

* Supernatural

* Lisa Frankenstein

* Stranger things

* Good omens

* Our flag means death

* Whatever other thing that gets my attention…

Warnings for content will be mostly said on the art itself. I don’t tend to draw things like gore or suggestive themes, as I myself am still a practicing artist. If this changes, it will be posted here or a new message!

Tags where you can find me:

Any fandom tag..

“Pikaart” for my doodles and sketches

“TLT” for TrafficLightTrio relates

“Pikasmutters” for texts posts and random rambles

“Pikafandom” for my fandom, movie, series and media related items.

Also feel free to check the TLT out on YouTube: https://youtube.com/@Thetrafficlighttrio?si=43Lw5N7wVGSSUyqu

(You can find all our personal channels in the description of the shared channel :3 )

Please don’t repost my art and things anywhere else without clear credit and/or asking. Thank you! :>

Please don’t expect consistent and often posting!!

I tend to forget Tumblr exists for weeks on end, so don’t expect too much :3

Okay, I think that’s it, happy scrolling!! <3