#Milestone celebration

[dailyimpulsedoodles]

Oh hey impulse!

What are you doing tod- oh, whats that shadow?

… oh

[100] 100 days 100 doodles! First one of hopefully many milestones ^^ thank you guys for supporting this account and these silly doodles

[joyousjoyfuljoyness]

I have officially hit over 100 sticker designs!

Many new ones are available for preorder, and I'll be having my final sale this Friday!

Stay tuned for when the sale drops!

[monstersholygrail]

Wow, my loves, thank you so so so freaking much for 7k that is insane and amazing and I am blown away beyond belief

I am wildly thankful, grateful, and in love with each and every one of you lol. I’m so happy you all enjoy my writing and me enough to stick around through everything

It’s also so mindblowing to me to reach this milestone while still working on my 5k celebration haha. Part 5 is coming soon, I haven’t forgotten. I am incapable of forgetting about NCNL. It means a lot to me

I’ve adored sharing all this with you and creating these worlds and characters for all of us to obsess over. I hope to continue growing and doing bigger things with my writing and this account. Hope you’ll continue to stick with me :) <33

[zaldritzosrose]

Pretty Little Thing (Gwayne x Handmaiden!Reader)

Hello! This is fic number two in my Milestone Celebration! Thank you to the lovely anon for requesting this and for giving me the chance to write Gwayne for the first time!

Summary: You were the object of Gwayne's curiosity, a thought he couldn't seem to shake. As his sister's handmaiden, there was rarely a time when you weren't in his presence. Your innocence and gentleness had captured his senses and he was prepared to do whatever he needed to have you as his.

CW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, reader with Hightower coded physical description, loss of innocence, obsessive love/desire, innuendo, profanity, Gwayne being a gentleman, reader is described as innocent and a little naive, dry humping, oral (f receiving).

Words: 4963

The handmaidens she surrounded herself with were one of Alicent’s only true sources of comfort in the Red Keep. Aside from her father, Lord Otto, and her brother, Ser Gwayne, there were few other escapes from House Targaryen.

So almost all of her ladies were closer to her own Hightower physicality than Targaryen. Ladies with darker or auburn hair, or rounder features that were common within The Reach. Some were younger and others were close to her own age. The younger ladies made her feel like she was regaining the youth that marriage had stolen from her.

Her favourite was you.

You were young, in your early twenties, Gwayne would wager. Though you were not the youngest of Alicent’s handmaidens, you were the one that fascinated him the most. On every visit Gwayne took to King’s Landing, he would find himself looking at you, and only you, whenever you were in his presence.

Alicent would keep you close, finding your calm, sweet nature a welcome reprieve from her tumultuous life as a Queen. So, wherever your Queen would go, so would you. Which meant you were regularly in Gwayne’s presence when he paid visits to his sister.

And word had come that he was to make another of those visits.

This visit was one Gwayne had been looking forward to. There was no political pretext or command from his father. He was simply here to see his family and, he hoped, to relax.

You had been within his sister’s service for a good few months now. A mainstay in her life. His curiosity about you had only grown in that time. How had you managed to stay so untainted by the venomous life at court? Was this sweet and innocent personality you displayed a façade, or was that your true nature?

That morning, you were called to help your Queen ready herself for the breakfast she had planned with her brother. It wasn’t unusual for you to be chosen for such tasks, Alicent did prefer your company in general.

As you stood at her back, taking the soft bristled brush through her curls, you dared yourself to ask a question that had lingered in your mind since you had first met Gwayne. You knew little of him, save for that he was a knight and the Queen’s brother.

“May I ask you something, my Queen?” you said softly, setting down the brush and taking the small bottle of hair oil from the Queen’s vanity.

Alicent glanced at you in the mirror and simply smiled.

“You may ask me anything, sweet one.”

You took a small breath, calming yourself as you smoothed a few drops of oil into her hair before beginning her braids.

“It is about your brother, your Grace. I only wonder, out of curiosity, what he is like?”

If you had not been concentrating on the first braid in Alicent’s hair, you would have seen the surprised twitch in her eyebrow. But she answered your question, nonetheless. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, in the few times Gwayne had already been around you, that his gaze would always find you – though you had never spoken to him.

“Gwayne? He is much as most would expect him to be, intelligent and honest but not without a quick-witted comment or two.”

You supressed a smile, you knew exactly what Alicent was getting at. Your experiences of the Hightower family were only her and her father, Otto. And it seemed Gwayne took a lot of his personality from his father, in both of your opinions.

“Much like our Lord Hand then, your Grace?” you said with a small laugh, which was answered with a warm smile from Alicent.

It was her way of saying she agreed, without saying it aloud. In truth, you appreciated that she allowed you to be almost informal in your conversations. It made your relationship with her far easier to manage, considering the time spent at her side.

The rest of the morning passed with little more on the topic, until you walked with your Queen to the breakfast room – where you would leave her for other duties.

Gwayne was already there, a small plate of fruit already in front of him as a servant poured tea.

“Sister, good morning!” he called out, standing to pull out a chair.

Alicent gave him a kiss to the cheek as greeting before giving you permission to leave her side. But Gwayne was not going to let you leave in silence.

“My lady, a good morning to you as well,” he said with a smile, taking your hand gently and giving a pause for your consent before he pressed a gentle kiss to the skin.

You couldn’t see Alicent’s expression, but there was a knowing glint in her eye. She knew Gwayne well enough to know his thinking when it came to you. And the blush that was growing on your cheeks was enough to tell her about your feelings on the matter.

“Good morning, ser, I will leave you to eat in peace.”

Your hand slid from his grasp, your skin almost tingling from where he had touched. You gave a soft curtsy to both siblings, before leaving the room.

Gwayne simply stood, watching your retreating figure. The soft fabric of your gown, in a beautiful pale green, that hugged your gentle curves. The light, auburn toned curls that reached just above your waist and were tied half up with a matching green silk bow.

Though most ladies would embrace their femininity, you seemed to do it with almost a girlish innocence. From the bows that tied back your hair to the softer, more flowing fabrics of your dresses. It was as though you lived to define what a woman should be.

As for you, the second those doors closed, your hands flew to your cheeks. The heat that came off them only had you more embarrassed. You had never been on the receiving end of such attention before, especially from a man such as Gwayne. He was a knight, of all things. The Queen’s brother.

Your heart hammered as you hurried to begin your daily tasks. But your thoughts remained with Gwayne.

You didn’t see him again until the next day. Or more to say, you weren’t in his presence until the next day.

Alicent was at the royal council, so you and the other handmaidens were in her solar with tea and embroideries. But not one of you were concentrating on the threads in your hands.

Gwayne hadn’t received word that Alicent would not be in her rooms, but he stopped dead at the door when he heard the girlish giggles from within – realising quickly his sister was likely not present.

“You are so lucky!” a voice giggled, from who he assumed was another handmaiden.

But his ears only pricked up when he heard his name.

“Ser Gwayne was simply being polite; the Queen had been greeted so I imagine he felt it was only right to greet me as well.”

That was a voice he recognised. It was a voice that he had kept in his memory since the first time he’d heard it – all be it only yesterday. A sweet song he wished to hear again and again.

Part of him wanted to interrupt, assure you that he greeted you out of his own volition, not for politeness. But Gwayne knew if he was caught eavesdropping, you would likely think badly of him.

But what was said next caught his attention yet again. Not the compliment paid to his looks, but your agreement to it.

“He is quite handsome, though, is he not? And dare I say more handsome up close?” Another handmaiden asked, clearly directing her question to you, he realised.

There was a pause, and Gwayne waited in bated breath for what you would say.

“More so, far more handsome up close. I could scarcely look him in the eye.”

It was almost Gwayne’s turn to blush, if he had been inclined to. Did you truly find him so handsome you had to avert your gaze? Or were you so inexperienced, his mere presence had you nervous?

He decided then, he had every intention of finding out.

Gwayne knew getting you alone was not going to be easy, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable. So, he chose a longer game. He would woo you, secretly if he must. Enamour you with him, as he was with you.

First, he needed to learn what you liked. He had seen your preference for your silk hair bows every time he’d visited. A different one every day, almost. Your hair styled intricately and held together with the soft fabrics, always matching your gowns.

It was the one thing he could picture immediately if he tried to imagine you.

So, he wagered then, you must have an eye for pretty things. He had no plans to leave King’s Landing anytime soon, so he had more than enough time to put his plan to action. The first step, having the perfect bow made for you.

He found a dressmaker, a sweet lady who was more than happy to help him.

Gwayne had a picture in his mind. Something that would have enough clues to tell you the gift came from him, but he didn’t want you to figure it out too easily.

The first choice of clue would be the colour green. In all the times he had seen you, you worn some shade of it. Though it was likely Alicent’s influence, it was a colour that suited you perfectly. So, he had the dressmaker choose a soft green fabric, intricately embroidered with dainty flowers.

There was something about you that seemed to call out for everything sweet, soft and innocent. And Gwayne wanted the gift to be tailored entirely to you.

It wasn’t long before it was done and the whole situation sworn to secrecy with a few extra coins in the dressmaker’s hand. Gwayne was almost giddy with excitement as he took the box back to the Keep. It had been a long enough time since he had felt the need to woo a lady.

With a few questions, he soon found your rooms, leaving the box on your vanity with a note that simply stated,

A pretty little gift, for a pretty little thing.

He now only had to wait for you to find it.

That evening, you returned to your rooms exhausted. It wasn’t until you sat at your vanity to untie your hair that you saw it. A velvet box with a note attached. The words written had you blushing almost immediately.

But when you opened the box, your breath caught in your throat. The soft, green fabric embroidered with the prettiest of flowers. The bow was perfect, your hands stroking the fabric in awe.

Who could possibly have sent you such a thing?

There was no clue on the note, but the compliment had your heart hammering and a heat simmering deeper than you had ever experienced before.

A pretty little thing…

Those words played in your mind long into your sleep.

Gwayne felt nervous. Alicent had let him know that one of her ladies would be joining her that morning and he found himself hoping it was you.

Had you liked his gift? Would you be wearing it, even?

His questions were all answered the moment you walked through the doors. He could see your eyes widen at his presence, the faintest of pinks in your cheeks as he stood and pulled out a chair for you to sit.

“I hope you do not mind Gwayne joining us this morning, sweet one?” Alicent asked as you sat.

“Of course not, your Grace, more company is always welcome.”

Gwayne lingered behind you for a moment, his eyes falling on your bow. The bow he had gifted. He could barely hide his smile as he spoke softly.

“That is quite the accessory you have there, my lady. Very pretty indeed.”

Your heart could have stopped. The emphasis on pretty was surely purposeful? But the sender couldn’t possibly haven Gwayne…could it? Mentally you shook your head, that was impossible and ridiculous, you thought.

But the coincidence was surely too great?

The thoughts circled your mind for the entirety of breakfast. Gwayne’s eyes catching yours whenever they could. And there was something behind them you couldn’t quite decipher. It made that heat rise in your belly again, simmering low and making your skin prickle. He looked at you as if you were the most important on in the room – but surely you were just imagining those things?

Breakfast ended and Alicent gave you leave to spend a few hours as you pleased. You appreciated the gesture but were curious as to the reason behind it. But you knew better than to question your Queen.

Alicent however, had seen how Gwayne looked at you. The twinkle of desire in his eyes that she had seen when he had courted ladies before. But you were precious to her.

“Brother, a word?” Alicent asked, just as your form disappeared around the door.

Gwayne knew that look. Whatever Alicent wished to say, it was likely not going to be enjoyable. She remained stood, her hands holding on to the back of the chair you hadn’t long vacated.

“Is something the matter, sister?” Gwayne asked, finishing his tea and doing his best to appear calmer than he felt.

Alicent raised a brow, a look that sent a shiver down the spines of most.

“Be careful with her, that’s all I ask.”

Nothing more needed saying. Your place in Alicent’s affection was clear, and Gwayne wanted nothing less than to hurt you. He stood, rounding the table and taking one of Alicent’s hands in his.

“I would never dream of it. She is far too precious.”

His words held two meanings, and Alicent was free to take them as she wished. You were precious to your Queen, yes. But Gwayne had all the hopes that you would become just as precious to him.

Gwayne spent most of his visit training, spending time with the Queen and his other family, or seeking your presence. Whether it be when you would tend to his sister, or when you would be sat in the gardens drinking tea and embroidering with the other ladies.

He would observe you from afar during the latter. Learning about you from simply watching you exist. Everything about you was gentle and innocent, like a doe that needed to be protected.

There was nothing about you that he didn’t find beautiful. You truly were a pretty little thing. He understood entirely why Alicent kept you in her service. You were like sunshine personified. Gwayne couldn’t picture a time he hadn’t seen you with a smile on your face or a laugh leaving your lips.

It was truly a refreshing sight to see.

It was as though, wherever you went, Gwayne was there. Whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know. And you also now wondered just how long he planned to stay in King’s Landing. But you could never quite work up the courage to ask.

Every time he would speak to you, he would render your mind blank. Cheeks always flushed pink. It was as though he knew every little way to get you flustered.

But at the same time, you didn’t really understand why it flustered you so. You had been around handsome men before, a side effect of being at royal court. Gwayne, however, was different.

He was handsome. No…beautiful was a better word for him. There was a softness about him despite the sharpness to his features. And his smile would always have your heart pounding. But the word to describe the feelings you had, seemed to escape you.

Gwayne decided to up his game a little. The bow had been a sweet surprise, but you still remained blissfully unaware of his affections, it seemed. So, he needed to do more. He needed you to see him as he saw you. To want him as he wanted you.

But you were not going to be an easy catch.

He needed to make his affections more obvious. To leave you with absolutely no doubt that it was him who pursued you.

Gifts inspired by things that he could only associate with you.

Your favourite flowers? Left in your rooms every morning.

The poems you adored? Handwritten notes slipped under your chamber doors in the evenings.

And yet, you said nothing to him. Your demeanour around him barely seemed to change, that was noticeable anyway. But fate seemed to drop an opportunity at his feet.

It was a warm night, not even the light nightdress and open drapes seemed to cool you. What you wanted was a walk and some sweet cakes. Not that the cakes would cool you down, but a trip to the kitchens was a walk enough.

You donned your robe and slippers, making sure there was no one in the corridors as you slipped through the door. Your steps were quick, the path to the kitchens was well ingrained into your mind.

Thankfully, your journey was quiet. Or so you thought.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain knight seemed to have had the same idea. He was several paces behind you, his bare feet keeping his presence hidden from you. But Gwayne hadn’t even seen you, until he heard noises in the kitchens as he passed.

He recognised you immediately. The now signature hair bow loosely holding your curls in place in a messy braid. Not wanting to disturb you or startle you in the middle of the night, he simply observed.

How you hurried around searching for what he imagined was something very specific. And he could barely contain his smile when he saw what it was. A tray of honeyed cakes. The way your face lit up as you filled a plate with as many as you could made his heart swell. Your innocence was intoxicating, and it was sending more than just heat to his heart.

It made him almost obsessive. Desperate to know everything about you. To know the inner workings of your mind. To know whether his touch could fluster you as much as his words.

He kept himself hidden as he saw you hurry away with your treasures. Smiling at your retreating figure before continuing his walk, a final step to his plan to claim you now in his mind.

Morning came, just as warm as the night before. Your dress choice was lighter to accommodate the constant layer of sweat on your skin. Your hair braided up and away from your neck with a few curls loose around your face. And of course, your hair bow holding it all together.

Gwayne had gifted you a few more. Some left anonymously on your vanity like the first time. Others given to you through others. And today, you wore one of those very bows.

It was a soft white, like the underdress of your gown, small flowers embroidered around the edges. It had become a favourite of yours, the plainer colour matching many of your dresses.

You were almost finished getting ready, the last job left was to roll on your stockings and slip on your shoes, when a knock sounded at your door. When no voice called out to you, you simply called out to the visitor.

“Come in?”

The door clicked open, and a young servant stood holding a tray of honeyed cakes with a note. Your brows furrowed in confusion, motioning for the young girl to bring them inside while you finished rolling on your stockings.

Outside of your chambers, the door having been left ajar, Gwayne waited. His eyes dropping to the soft blue of your stockings as you rolled them high up your legs. It was a sight that felt almost sinful to see. Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He wondered what they felt like. Would they be soft? Would your skin be as soft beneath it? Would you even let him touch?

Your movement brought his attention back to his actual purpose here. The cakes. He wanted to see your reaction, though to his note not the treats themselves.

I hope you like my little gift, my pretty little thing. I hope you have liked all of my gifts; they look ever so beautiful on you. And I will read those poems to you, whenever you should wish it. GH.

Your hands held the note tight, almost crumpling the paper beneath your fingers. GH, those initials spoke of only one person in your mind.

Gwayne.

Everything seemed to fall into place. The bows, the poetry slipped beneath your door, the flowers in your chambers. It had all been him…

“My lady.”

His voice pulled you from your reverie. The note falling to the table in front of you.

“Ser…” your voice was barely a breath, your heartbeat loud in your ears.

Gwayne entered slowly, giving you the chance to send him away. But you didn’t.

“It was you.”

You said it so simply, he could only smile. There was almost a hint of surprise in your voice.

“Is that such a surprise, my sweet lady?” Gwayne asked, closing the door gently behind him.

You were still in such shock that you hadn’t even registered you were now alone in your chambers with him. But everything about him had you calm, made you feel safe.

He had never done anything to make you feel differently. If anything, you felt happier within his presence. Maybe even sought it out.

“All these gifts, you have spoiled me.”

Gwayne was next to you now, his hands coming to rest on your arms. His chest barely pressed against your back. He wanted nothing more than to pull you tight against him, to feel your skin on his. But he knew he needed to ease you into it.

“You are worth spoiling. You are deserving of more than I could ever give…”

He smiled as he felt you lean into him, letting your body relax. Heat pooled in your belly. A heat you only felt around him.

His fingers trailed up and down your arms, making you shiver. Your cheeks slowly reddening as your supressed a sigh. Gwayne leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You truly are a pretty little thing…”

His lips pressed to the skin just beneath your ear as he finished speaking, and you gasped. Surprised both at the touch and at just how good the tingle that went through your body felt.

You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze and seeing nothing but want behind his eyes.

“I do not understand, why me?”

Gwayne chuckled. Not to mock you, but out of sheer adoration for your naivety.

“Because you are beautiful, because you are like sunshine in human form, because you have entranced my very soul…”

His voice was low, somewhere between a whisper and a growl. His body caging yours against the table behind you. And yet you didn’t want to push him away.

“I desire you, my lady. I crave you.”

Desire. That was the word for it. The right explanation for the fire that was beginning to flicker in your stomach. No, lower, somewhere deeper that had your whole body crying out for his touch.

Your hands had a mind of their own, trailing up his chest almost in fascination. Gwayne tried to suppress his own sigh of satisfaction. The heat and left him free of his usual heavier tunic, so he could almost feel the softness of your skin.

His face was so close to yours; one movement would have your lips locked. Your hands slowly reached his shoulders, as if you were mapping him out. When his eyes finally met yours again, he found his own desire mirrored back at him.

“Kiss me?”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. His lips were gentle but demanding. His hand coming up to cup your jaw as he finally tasted your lips. Your hands gripped at his shirt, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue traced your lower lip. And you were quick to grant him access.

You had read romance novels; you had pictured yourself in such entanglements. But you had never thought they would become reality.

His hand moved to tangle in your hair, your curls soft under his palm. His chest was now pressed firmly against yours, and the thin fabric of your gown did nothing to cushion the growing hardness that now pressed against your stomach.

Gwayne groaned into your mouth as his tongue finally tangled with yours, head tilted as he deepened the kiss. His free hand travelling down to grip your waist, your gown bunching in his hand.

“Will you let me have you, my lady? Let me sate the desire we both feel?”

He needed your words, to know you wanted him as he wanted you.

“Yes, but I am still…”

Gwayne caught your words with a kiss. He knew you were a maiden, but that was further than he was willing to push you.

“I would not taint you like that, my sweet lady…I simply wish to satisfy you.”

His lips trailed down your jaw, to your neck. Marking the skin with his kiss. Your head fell back, a sigh of his name leaving your lips. The hand that gripped your gown moved to your hip, urging you back towards the table behind you.

And you sat back gladly. Your knowledge of such carnality was purely fictional, but from the way Gwayne now dropped to his knees before you, you could gather what he wanted.

“Will you let me, my darling?” he asked, his hands gripping the hem of your gown.

“Yes…please…”

Your voice was a mere whisper, and it fell to silence as he lifted your gown. You let your eyes follow him. The way his hands now lingered on your stockings, tracing the embroidery with his fingers.

“So pretty, every inch of you…”

Gwayne moved his hands higher, his lips following after as he kissed a path up towards your core. This was his reward. He had pictured what it would be like to finally have you in his grasp. But the reality was far sweeter.

Your head dropped back the second his lips kissed at the apex of your thighs. One hand gripping your gown as the other found purchase in his hair. His hands made quick work of your undergarments, tugging them down and throwing them behind him.

His lips grazed the soft flesh of your core, teasing with gentle kisses. Your hand tightening in his hair every time he came close to your folds.

“Gwayne, please…”

Your voice was so sweet, tentatively begging him for more while saying so little. And there was only so much teasing he could endure himself.

His tongue gave a gentle swipe over your folds, relishing the breath moan that spilled from your lips. You tasted sweeter than he could have ever imagined. Like those honeyed cakes you loved so much. It was addicting.

With hands hooked under your thighs, he delved deeper. No longer teasing. He wanted to taste every inch he could. To feel you come apart on his tongue.

Your fingers scratched at his scalp as his lips attached to your pearl, the knot in your stomach already tightening. Gwayne could feel your walls quivering, quickening his movements as he felt you falling closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh, I feel…oh!” you panted and Gwayne persevered.

His tongue lapping as your back arched from the table, thighs tightening around his head as you peaked. His fingers replaced his tongue as you came down.

“Oh, my sweet girl…did that feel good?”

His fingers massaged over your shaking thighs as you relaxed, heavy pants making your chest heave. But he was surprised when your hands tugged him back to standing. He had promised to sate you both after all.

“So good, I have never...”

Gwayne smiled, slipping between your thighs as your hands rested on his chest. He wanted to watch you fall apart this time. And the throbbing between his thighs was quick to remind him of his own needs.

“Do you wish to again; I will make you feel that way whenever you wish…”

You nodded, pulling him in for a kiss as Gwayne let his hips roll against yours. Instinct drove him now, his hands on your waist as he rutted softly against your body. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him tighter against you.

It had been a long time since he had satisfied himself like this. There was still an innocence to the whole thing that had his heart warming. You were his now, he knew that.

“Oh, my pretty little thing…mine…” he grunted into your neck, your hands flat against his back.

Your fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulders, as you felt his rhythm become erratic. He was close, and your name fell from his lips like a prayer. You were his, you knew it.

Gwayne’s movements slowed, soft kisses pressed to your throat as he spilled into his breeches. Your name a final sigh as he relaxed. Your hands stroked his back as he pulled back to look at you.

Where there was once want in his eyes, there was only affection. An affection that you could feel swelling in your chest. Gwayne’s head rested against your chest.

“Yes, all yours.”

Your words hung in the air, a promise. A promise of a future. Of a pretty little thing and her knight.

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/deleted):

@blissfulphilospher @multyfangirl @thenameswinter99

@elaratyrell @tumblin-theworldaway @legitalicat @sylasthegrim

[targaryen-dynasty]

𝟑𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

this is the masterlist for my milestone celebration. i have brought in several talented authors to help me with this. each piece that's listed here has been written based on one request i've during my time here in the asoiaf fandom. and if you ask me: i am glad i did so, because couldn't have written these any better. thank you so much to everyone who's joined me on this wild ride!

𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Rȳbās by @zaldritzosrose

In the Night by @anjelicawrites

Unabashed by @targaryenrealnessdarling

Tear Down My Reason by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

When He Breaks by @thought--bubble

Oathkeeper by @aemondsbabe

The Warm of Both Bodies by @venmondiese

𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

The Warm of Both Bodies by @venmondiese

𝐝𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Shared Future by @happilyhertale

Perfect Size by @the-dendrophile-bookdragon

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

「 let's bake something yummy to celebrate 10k 」

i can not believe i've hit this number... it's only two years ago that i began writing and sharing it online, so to think over that there is that may of you out there is truly unbelievable. in my head there is just enough to fit on my little couch here at home, but i don't think my couch is big enough for that many. thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart for staying here with me, for reading my silly little stories and for always being so kind. i love you all.

this celebration will run from now till the 31 of march. anyone can participate and you can send in as many asks as you’d like, there is no limit.

if you need some prompts as Inspo for the request options, then try and click around on my sideblog @prompt-heaven where I keep a bunch of prompt lists very organised. 

navigation | masterlist | request guidelines

cookie - games! (cast your mutuals, fuck marry kill, would you rather…)

muffin - come blabber with me! (it can be anything under the sun, from casual stuff to wip info about a certain fic of mine)

bread - tell me a random fact about yourself and I’ll say who I ship you with!

cake - i’ll give you a culinary-themed song that has your vibe!

bun - i’ll tell you which specific baked good has your vibe!

croissant - send me a sfw request! 

pie - send me a nsfw request! 

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[fortheloveofwonderland]

My Reply | S.R

This one was a request from the lovely @reidsaurora-replies for my milestone celebration which got wildly out of hand. I think I damn near used every lyric of the song in this one. Also, Maeve does not exist in this universe. I felt like his phone calls with her were too similar to the letters with reader and not needed

Summary - Spencer writes his deepest tragedies down on paper for his pen pal. After ten years of exchanging letters and some divine intervention from JJ, the two of you finally come face to face.

CW - this one covers most of Spencer’s canon storylines including Tobis Hankel and his drug addiction, his moms illness, his fathers abandonment, getting shot in the knee, his headaches, Emily’s “death”, prison arc, Mr Scratch and Emily’s kidnapping, angst, interfering friends, lots of literary quotes.

WC - 6.3k

Making friends was always something Spencer Reid had been inherently bad at. He was always too young or too smart which always seemed to put people off of forming friendships with him. 

When he joined the BAU, his team called themselves his friends. But Spencer knew if he’d met any of them outside of work he would have nothing in common with them. 

They were simply friends by proximity, which admittedly was better than having no friends at all. But he couldn’t talk to them about everything, afraid to scare them away with talk of his mothers illness or his fathers abandonment. 

And sometimes he just needed to talk to someone. 

It was Garcia’s idea that he sign up for a pen pal. When she found out about his mom during the course of the fisher king case, he’d confessed that he didn’t feel comfortable talking to the team about such things. 

At first she’d actually suggested talking to someone online, she had many online friends who she talked to in various chat rooms. But after almost an hour of trying to explain that to the technophobe doctor and getting little more than a deep frown in response, she changed tact. 

A pen pal appealed to Spencer greatly. He already wrote daily letters to his mom and found it somewhat cathartic, getting his thoughts down on the page, but he never bothered her with the darker stuff. 

The idea of a faceless person he’d never meet reading his deepest, darkest thoughts was actually intriguing to him. And so with the help of Penelope he found himself a pen pal. 

In his first letter he’d just introduced the basics, his name and age, what he did for a living and that he lived in DC. 

He went on to explain how hard he found it to make friends and the difficulties of talking to his already established friends about the darker parts of his life. He ended the letter with a quote from To Kill a Mockingbird.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view…until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” - Harper Lee.

He received a reply little over a week later. 

Your name was Y/N and you were twenty two, three years younger than him and a grad student at Columbia University. You told him you would be happy to read whatever he sent you, that you were more than willing for him to write to you about the things he didn’t tell his friends. 

You signed off with a quote of your own quote from the book Infinite Jest.

“You will become way less concerned with what other people think of you when you realise how seldom they do.” - David Foster Wallace. 

And so he did just as you said and he wrote another letter. 

His second letter to you was five pages long. He went into great detail about his mothers illness, how he’d been left to deal with it alone at ten years old. He wrote about how he’d made the decision at eighteen years old to have her committed to a sanitarium. 

He told you about growing up as a child prodigy in Las Vegas and how hard that was. You were the first person he ever told about Alexa Lisbon and being tied naked to a flagpole. 

He spoke about the events surrounding Elle leaving the team and how it didn’t feel complete without her. 

He ended the letter by apologising profusely that he’d wasted your time with his long winded rambles and said he hoped to hear from you soon and scrawled a quote from The Great Gatsby.

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald.

He said he would understand if you didn’t reply. But you did. 

The letter took two weeks to arrive and you explained that it was because you wanted to really process his words and give each and every one of them the time they deserved. He read the last few lines of your letter over and over again in a loop even though they were etched into his memory after only one glance.

I wish there was something I could say, to erase each and every page you've been through,

even though it's not my place to save you. 

“When I get lonely these days, I think: so be lonely. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.” - Elizabeth Gilbert - Eat, Pray, Love. 

He wasn’t familiar with the book and so he’d gone out and brought it and read it cover to cover within an hour. 

Reading your letter made Spencer feel understood for the first time in his young life. You didn’t pass judgement on him. Spencer found that between the pages of your letters he found a kindred spirit. 

The letters continued back and forth for several months until one day you didn’t receive a reply. His last letter had been penned to you on route to a case in Atlanta, which you’d responded to the day you received it. But there was radio silence from Spencer. 

You shouldn’t have been as worried as you were, but you couldn’t help yourself. His letters had become such a huge part of your world, often rereading them hundreds of times just to make sure you didn’t miss any little nuance on the page. 

His handwriting was ingrained within you, his scrawly, sometimes barely legible penmanship danced behind your eyelids every time you closed your eyes. His letters had rapidly become the best part of any day. And for over a year you didn’t receive a reply. 

After a while you’d stopped holding out hope every time you collected your mail. Eventually you gave up ever expecting to hear from him again. Maybe he didn’t need you anymore. Perhaps he’d made a real life friend, maybe even a girlfriend and you’d been rendered ineffective. 

But then little over a year after you sent your last letter, you found an envelope in your mail slot with the familiar handwriting you adored so much and the DC postmark. 

Y/N,

I don’t really have any excuses, all I can say is I’m sorry. I have written you fifty three letters over the course of the last year but never mailed a single one. They are piled up on my desk, addressed and even stamped, but I couldn’t bring myself to mail them. 

I’ve been struggling, I can’t lie to you. I can’t even lie to you through a letter and tell you I’ve been fine because I haven’t. I think you would see through my prose, know that I wasn’t being truthful. And you’ve never given me a reason to be anything but honest with you.

The case in Atlanta was one of the hardest I’ve ever worked. I’m not going to beat around the bush, I’m just going to tell what happened and hopefully this letter will end up with you and not in the pile on my desk. 

I was kidnapped by the man we were hunting down. I spent two days tied to a chair being beaten within an inch of my life but a man with multiple personalities. In fact, that’s not strictly true. I wasn’t beaten within an inch of my life; one of the personas killed me. 

I’m not entirely sure how long I was technically dead before he revived me but obviously not long enough to cause permanent neurological damage. Irreversible brain damage occurs after four minutes without oxygen so it stands to reason it was less than four minutes. 

But during that time, my life flashed before my eyes, including every single word of every single one of your letters. 

One of the alter’s drugged me in his own way of trying to save me. Drugging me was supposed to help with the pain, both mental and physical. I fought it at first, desperate for him not to stick that needle in my vein. But after that first hit, I stopped resisting. 

I think you can probably already see where this is going. You’re incredibly smart and you seem to know me so well. After I shot Tobias Hankel dead I took three vials of dilaudid from his corpse. 

I should have prefaced this by saying I am now ten months sober, and offered up the good news first. But there were several months that I continued using the drug in secret, hoping it would aid in erasing the memories of it all. 

It took a case in New Orleans in which I met up with an old friend Ethan and ended up almost destroying my career for me to decide to get sober. I’ve had a lot of difficulties in my life, as you know, but getting clean is the hardest thing I have ever done. 

And now for the first time in months I’m craving again. Maybe that’s why I’m writing to you, determined to send this letter this time. I need to know that everything is going to be ok and you are the only one that I will believe it from. 

My team tries. Now it's all out in the open, they try to help. But you don’t even need to try. Your help is so effortless, so easy and I’m in real need of that right now. 

His letter went on in this vein for another six pages. He also included several pages of handwritten poetry which he had copied out of a book to send you. With each word you consumed you felt your heart breaking for him a piece at a time. 

And he signed off with a surprising choice of quote from The Lorax.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” - Dr Seuss. 

You spent the next month or so trying to cultivate the perfect reply, but for the first time in your life, words failed you. 

It was three days after Spencer received his one year sober chip that your letter arrived. 

I got your letter and the poetry you sent me, postmarked in December of last year. I really hope you’re doing better, all your friends close by your side, one step closer to recovery.

I hope by the time you receive this you are close to one year sober, but if you didn’t make it you need to know that’s ok too. Life is full of ups and downs Spencer. If you didn’t make it this time you will the next time. Or the one after that. 

If you relapsed I need you to not beat yourself up over it. You will be ok, Spencer Reid, for that I am certain. 

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.” Maya Angelou - I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. 

***

When he got shot in the knee, he wrote to you from the hospital. He told you how hard it was for him to turn down pain medication when he was in so much agony. But he was over two years sober now and he wouldn’t do anything to risk a relapse. 

Your reply spoke of how proud of him you were and how you knew it couldn’t have been easy for him but you hoped the fact you were proud went some way to aid him. 

He told you it meant more to him than you would ever know. 

Then he started having headaches and the letters became sporadic. When he did write he told you how painful it was for him to try to focus on the words in front of him. 

I’ve seen so many doctors and no one can tell me what’s wrong with me. It’s like they think I’m making it up, like this pain isn’t real. 

On my good days it’s a dull throb but on the bad days it’s nearly paralysing. I’m so scared that this is a precursor for schizophrenia. I'm still young enough for my first break, and it is a genetic illness. 

I love my mom but I can’t turn out like her, Y/N, I just can’t. I'm so, so scared. 

But your letters are the greatest comfort to me. I don’t think there are words to describe how much they mean - I will try to surmise it with a quote from Charlotte's Web -

"'Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.' 'You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.'" - E.B White.

You could feel his fear through the pages. His handwriting was somehow even harder to read than usual and sentences often tapered off with no ending. There were whole passages scribbled out so violently his pen had ripped the paper in places. There were crude drawings of brains and dark rain clouds in the margins. 

Spencer, 

I am so sorry you are going through this and that no one can give you the answers you seek. But this isn’t the end for you, even if it is schizophrenia, you can still live a full and normal life. 

If you'll just hold on for one more second, if you just hold on to what you have, you will wake up tomorrow. Behind every rain cloud lies the sun. As Victor Hugo said in Les Miserables -

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” 

In his next few letters he seemed to be getting better, his headaches slowly dissipating until they only hassled him every once in a while. Things seemed to be looking up for him. 

But then one of his best friends died. 

His detailed letter told you all about Ian Doyle and Emily’s history with him and went on to conclude how she died on the operating table. 

I’ve been through a lot of trauma in my life, lost a lot of people close to me but never like this. I’ve never had to bury someone I love and honestly I don’t know how to move past this. 

My initial reaction has been dilaudid. It's the only thing I can think of to take the pain away. 

Tell me not to do it, Y/N, please. Please tell me that this grief will get better and that using drugs again is not the answer. Please help me stay clean. 

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time — the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers.” John Irving - A Prayer for Owen Meany

It took you longer than it should have done to formulate a reply. You felt pressured, like his sobriety hung in your hands. You hated that his friend had died but you didn’t think it was fair of him to put this on you. And you told him such.

Spencer,

I am sorry to hear about Emily, I know how close the two of you were. I’m no expert on grief, I can’t tell you how to deal with this.

You know full well that using dilaudid again is a bad idea, you really don’t need me to tell you that. Honestly, I’m a little frustrated at you for putting this on my shoulders. 

I am always here to help Spencer, in any way I can but sometimes I think you expect too much from me. We’ve been trading letters back and forth for the better part of five years and I don’t think you’ve ever really asked me about myself aside from those first initial letters.

And it’s fine, you needed this friendship more than I did. But over time this has started to feel so one sided and I don’t always look forward to your letters as much as I once did. 

I realise this is not the best time for me to be saying these things but I can’t hold back any longer. I’m glad I can be someone you can turn to but I have my own life, my own issues and I have no one to talk to about them. 

You put too much pressure on me Spencer and it’s a lot to take. I’ve tried to help shoulder your misery all these years but it’s starting to bring me down. All I can say is you need to wake up, you've gotta believe; you can't give up. Time keeps going on without us, long after we're dead and gone.

And you finished it with a simple quote from After You by Jojo Moyes.

“No journey out of grief was straightforward. There would be good days and bad days.” 

It was no surprise to you that you didn’t receive a reply. 

***

Y/N,

It’s been two years and I’m sorry for that. Two years, one month and eleven days. The truth is your last letter was hard for me to read as you can probably understand. 

The hardest part of reading it was the fact that I knew you were right. I’ve been selfish all these years. I’ve treated you like a sounding board for my problems and never once asked how you were. 

It's taken me time to write this because I wanted to get to a better place before I responded. I was angry at first, I felt like I was being abandoned again and my anger would not have been conducive. 

Then I was hurt, hurt that the one person I thought would always be there for me had turned their back on me. I displaced my grief over Emily’s death onto you and anything I would have written in that time would have only been the rage fuelled epitaph of a grieving man. 

And then once I dealt with those emotions, life simply got away from me. Emily was alive and well, her death was faked to get Doyle off of her back. Again I was angry about being lied to by my friends but eventually I was just happy she was alive. 

Then I turned thirty and had a crisis of faith I suppose. I guess with my intellect I always assumed I would be doing something more with my life and turning thirty kind of threw me through a loop. 

We had some changes to the team, new agents coming and going. All in all things have been somewhat hectic. 

But that’s not why I’m writing. 

I am writing because I really do want to know everything about you. I want you to be able to open up to me the way I always have to you. I want to be your shoulder, your repreve. I really hope I haven’t completely blown our friendship and I hope to be the kind of person who you can talk to. 

These arms remain stretched out to you and maybe someday you'll accept them. Maybe it's too late to save a young girl's heart that's long stopped beating. But I hope that it isn’t. 

“You have been in every way all that anyone could be…if anybody could have saved me it would have been you.” Jennifer Niven - All the Bright Places. 

You wanted to tell him it was too little too late, that after two years of silence you weren’t interested anymore. 

You wanted to simply not reply, ignore him entirely like he’d done to you. 

But you couldn’t. And so you replied. 

It was your longest letter to date, depicting in great detail how he’d made you feel over the years and all the hardships you’d faced without having someone to vent to. 

But getting to write it all down had been purifying, and by the time you were finished you weren’t mad anymore. 

I am willing to give this another shot, but things have to be different. If we’re to continue this friendship then it has to be a two way street. 

But I can’t pretend that I haven’t missed your letters because I have. I see pieces of you between the words, parts of yourself I’m not sure you realise you leave on the page. 

I’ve painted a picture of you in my mind's eye and even after two years with no letters, I’ve carried that picture with me wherever I go. 

I feel like I somehow know you better than I know myself and I hope going forward you can start to know me the same way. Charlotte Bronte once said -

“Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.” - Jane Eyre. 

***

Spencer didn’t know how it happened, he only knew that it had happened. Over the course of all the years writing to you it was almost a surprise it hadn’t happened sooner. Or maybe it had and he just didn’t realise until now. 

Spencer Reid had fallen in love with the woman who wrote her prose to him. 

It had been ten years of letters, every single one of which he kept in their envelopes in date order in the bottom drawer of his desk at home. 

Those letters were his lifelines on bad days, the one thing that kept him tethered. He didn’t even know what you looked like, even what you sounded like but he loved you. He loved you with every fibre of his being. 

And he couldn’t stop himself from telling you exactly what you meant to him. Even if it inevitably destroyed what the two of you had, he couldn’t stop the words from flying across the page. 

So that’s pretty much everything that’s happened these past few weeks. Mom’s doing ok but obviously it's a huge adjustment for her and I’m not entirely sure how long I can keep her living with me but for now it works.

How did the interview go? I have absolutely no doubts that you blew them all away with your presentation, you’re a hard person not to fall in love with.

Your presence in my life has brightened my every waking minute. You once told me that behind every rain cloud lies the sun; you are the sun behind my clouds. Your letters bring me back to life, your handwriting penned onto my soul. 

Is it foolish of me to be in love with someone I have never laid eyes on? William Makepeace Thackery said in Vanity Fair -

“It is better to have loved wisely, no doubt: but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.” 

I suppose that’s as good of an answer as any. 

***

Five days after he penned his love confession, he was arrested in Mexico. Once all the drugs had left his system, only after he was extradited and arraigned and placed at Milburn was he able to dwell on the fact he never received your reply. 

And being trapped in a cell gave him way too much time to think about that. 

It was possible you had replied, maybe even just to tell him he was crazy to even think he could be in love with someone he had never met. But he was sure you wouldn’t have even bothered to respond, thinking him a lunatic you needed to cut ties with. 

After a month in prison on one of JJ’s visits she brought a letter with her which she had found in his apartment. She recognised the handwriting on the envelope from several she’d seen him reading over the years. 

She wasn’t allowed to give him the letter but she offered to read it to him. At first he’d declined because he had no idea what to expect from your reply but after several long minutes he’d decided to let JJ read it to him. 

Spencer,

I am pleased to hear your mom is doing well but I do think you know that this solution won’t work in the long run. You say you live in a one bedroom apartment? You and I both know that you can’t sustain having your mother live there permanently. But I know you and I know you will figure out what’s best for you both.

The interview was amazing and they offered me the job on the spot. If it wasn’t for all your help with the presentation there is no way I would have gotten it, so thank you so much for that. 

As for the other thing…

For some time now I have been wondering about feelings I didn’t understand. You’ve been such a large part of my life for so long and even though we’ve never met I feel like we have, if that makes sense? I feel like in my heart I know you. My heart knows your heart.

Falling for you was as inevitable as the sun rising each morning. Perhaps it is foolish but I believe Thackeray knew what he was talking about. And I also believe Emily Bronte was talking about me and you when she said, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” 

Spencer had interrupted JJ then, when she was smiling from ear to ear as she read your words out loud. 

“That’s enough.” He cut her off, burying his head in his hands.

“Wow, Spence, I had no idea you’d met someone.” 

“I haven’t met anyone. She is simply a woman at the other end of a series of letters.” 

“How long?” JJ placed the pages down in front of her.

Spencer looked up at her, a small blush on his cheeks. He didn't want to be talking about this, least of all on the other side of a plexiglass screen with his other inmates nearby but he responded all the same.

“Ten years.” He shrugged. 

“Ten years?” JJ sounded incredulous. “Ten years of letters and you’ve never met? Why?”

“I, uh, it never really came up.” It wasn’t a lie, you’d never once discussed meeting in all those years. 

“Is it like a distance thing? Does she live far away?” 

“No,” He sighed with a shake of his head. “She’s in New York.” 

“New York!” She huffed. “New York is a five hour train journey, Spence!” 

“Jennifer, now is really not the time for this.” He lowered his voice as JJ’s had garnered eyes in their direction. “There is really no point in discussing this as we have no idea when or even if I’m going to get out of here.” 

“Don’t say that.” She shook her head.

“It’s true.” He shrugged sadly. “I really can’t think about all this right now, ok? Just take the letter back to my apartment and pretend you didn’t see it. Please?” 

If it weren’t for the desperation in his eyes she might have argued it. But she didn’t want to waste what little time she got to spend with Spencer fighting.

“Ok.” She relented with a small roll of her eyes.

“Thank you, JJ.” He offered a tight lipped smile. “How are the boys?” 

JJ filled him in but she wasn’t really focused anymore. In her head, she was already penning a letter of her own…

Y/N,

My name is Jennifer Jareau, JJ, and I work with Spencer at the BAU. I’m not sure if he’s mentioned me to you or not. He hasn’t really told me too much about you if I’m honest. But I have learned that he has strong feelings for you and you for him. I’m wondering if I can make a suggestion…

***

When you received the strange letter from Spencer’s friend JJ in response to yours, you’d been initially extremely confused as to why he was letting his teammates read your secret correspondence. 

But when she’d gone on to tell you that Spencer had been arrested along with all the details surrounding his incarceration and how she’d read your letter to him during their visitation, you started to understand. 

But then a few days later, before you had a chance to reply to her, you received another letter from Spencer with a postmark from Milburn Correctional Facility.

Y/N,

Maybe Thackeray and Bronte were right or maybe they were wrong, I can’t say for sure. What I can say with certainty is that I can’t carry on like this a moment longer.

Something has happened to me, it won’t be hard for you to figure out what as soon as you see the postmark. I am not willing to get into it or explain how I ended up here. But I have no idea how long I am going to be inside and I don’t want the rest of our communication to be sent through a string of guards who will pick apart each tormented sentence. 

I ask you not to write me back. This has to be the end of the road my dear. This letter has to be our last. I don’t know how much longer I will continue to be able to live like this. Each day my hope dies a little more and I’m sure I won’t make it out of here alive. 

I am writing simply to say thank you. Thank you for all your years of listening, for all your patience and kind words and your hopeful prose. In my darkest hours you have shown me the light, dragged me out of the shadows of my own creation. 

I love you for all that you are and all that you have done but even you can’t save me this time. This really might be the end for me and I don’t want you to blame yourself. You are the only reason I made it this far in this treacherous game we call life. 

Take care of yourself, continue to live your absolute best life. And in time I pray that you forget me and are able to love someone far more tangible. 

All that is left to say can be summed up by a quote from The Miniaturist - 

“You are the sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed. My darling.” Jessie Burton.

You replied firstly to Spencer, his heartbreaking words more pressing than JJ’s letter. You kept it short and to the point, knowing that various other prison guards would read it before it even made it to his hands. 

I appreciate but can't accept this thank you note that's sealed with your last breath and I won't stand aside and listen to you give up. 

You are stronger than that Spencer Reid and if I know anything about your team from all the years of hearing you speak of them it’s that they are the best at what they do and they will prove your innocence. 

Just remember what Ernest Hemmingway said in A Farewell to Arms -

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places.” 

You will be stronger at those broken places, Spencer, I have no doubt about it. 

And besides, if you don’t make it out of there, how do you  propose to ever meet me? 

Whilst on a role, you grabbed a clean sheet of paper and started scrawling again. 

Jennifer,

Thank you for your letter. I have spent some time musing on your suggestion and I think you might be right. 

I think it's time for me to take a trip to DC…

***

Spencer never opened your last letter because he had no intention of replying to it. If he didn’t read it, he could pretend you had never sent it and he wouldn’t be tempted to write a response. 

Instead he stuffed it between the pages of his book and tried not to think about it. 

After two and half months his team proved his innocence and he was released but he was thrown into the deep end of trying to find his mother. 

And even once he found her unscathed, he was rapidly thrust right into Scratch’s web after he kidnapped Emily. 

Taking the elevator back up to the BAU alongside JJ after they’d escorted Emily to the hospital it already felt like a lifetime had passed since he left prison. And all he wanted to do was chronicle all of it to you. 

Maybe once the dust settled, once he’d wrapped his head around everything that happened he would open your letter and send you a reply. 

But for the first time in ten years, Spencer didn’t want to drag you into his mess. 

JJ was strangely quiet as the elevator made its ascent. He didn’t even want to be here, he’d planned on going straight home after leaving the hospital. He hadn’t slept in his own bed for two and a half months and he couldn’t wait to collapse into it. 

But JJ had insisted that instead of him getting the metro home, if he popped back to the BAU with her to collect some paperwork, she would drive him home. 

And honestly he was just too exhausted to decline. 

JJ’s eyes were hyper focused on the digital floor numbers as they got higher. A few seconds after it displayed number five, one floor below the BAU, she turned and looked at him. 

“Don’t hate me for this.” She blurted out. 

“Excuse me?” Spencer frowned, too tired to try to understand what she meant. 

“I couldn’t just let it go.” She shrugged, a guilty smile on her lips. 

“Let what go?” His frown deepened. 

Her eyes flicked back upwards as the number five rolled into the number six and the elevator started to judder as it prepared to stop. 

“Just remember I love you and that’s the only reason I interfered.” She shrugged as the elevator stopped entirely and soon the doors were peeling open. 

Spencer looked away from her and out of the open doors to where someone was standing just a few feet back. 

Spencer’s eyes landed on the stranger only it wasn’t a stranger. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew exactly who this person was standing on the BAU floor. 

He remembered the way JJ had read him your letter and how you’d told him your heart knows his heart. 

Well his heart knew yours too. And he knew the heart beating a few feet away from him was yours. 

“Y/N?” He croaked, slowly stepping out of the elevator but not too close to you. 

“Spencer?” You smiled at him, the kind that reached all the way to your eyes. 

Neither of you noticed JJ slipping quietly away, wanting to give you some privacy. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows were furrowed and he was rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You’re friend JJ wrote to me. She told me everything that happened to you. And she made me realise that ten years is too long to wait for a first meeting.” Your voice was like honey to Spencer’s ears. 

Your prose was beautiful, but hearing the words from your lips as you stood in front of him in all your ethereal glory was more than any letter could convey. 

“I…I am actually speechless.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

“You? Speechless?” You giggled and Spencer felt the sound all the way to his heart. 

“You’ll come to learn I am much more of a wordsmith on paper. In person I am incredibly awkward and often trip over my words. I ramble when I’m nervous or clam up entirely, no in between. I spout facts and statistics rather than have a meaningful conversation. I am much more comfortable writing my words down on paper than speaking them out loud.” He let the words spill out of his mouth, proving his point entirely. 

“I’ve waited ten years to hear your voice. Please never stop talking.” You smiled so brightly at him he felt like he was floating. 

You were here in front of him, not just hidden between pages of letters. You were real, tangible; within his reach. 

And suddenly the last thing Spencer wanted to do was talk. 

He took a few tentative steps towards you and cautiously raised a hand to your cheek. You sighed in content when he cupped your face and nuzzled against his palm. 

“I could talk to you about anything and everything all day long, my love.” He smiled, inching his face closer to yours. “But at this moment in time I have one slightly more pressing desire to do with my mouth rather than speak.” 

“Oh yeah?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. 

The warmth of your body and your smile encompassed him. As he looked into your eyes, finally looked into your eyes, every bad thing that had ever happened to him slipped away. 

“Love starts as a feeling, but to continue is a choice. And I find myself choosing you, more and more every day.” He quoted Justin Wetch’s Bending the Universe. 

“Spence?” 

“Yes Y/N?” 

“As sweet as that is, I thought there were more pressing desires to use your mouth for?” 

“If you insist.” He smiled and quickly closed the small space between you.

When his lips finally met yours it felt like all the pieces of the universe were falling into place. 

For ten long years you’d communicated in the pages of letters, constructing replies to what felt like one sided conversations that were confined to only live on paper. 

As the kiss deepened every single one of those words seemed to float in the air around you, spiralling like a tornado made of a decade worth of missives. 

He swore he could hear each and every word whispered to him in the voice he’d longed to hear all these years as he kissed you like you were the most important being on the face of the earth. 

And when he pulled back and mumbled I love you against your lips, it was the easiest reply you’d ever given. 

[flowerandblood]

Milestone Celebration

There are so many of you already that I can't believe it! As a thank you for your commitment, comments, reblogs, asks, messages and everything you give me, today I have a little game for you, in which I hope you will take part!

What is it about? Choose any of my stories I have finished (it doesn't matter if it's a series or a oneshot), write its title to me in the ask (they can be anonymous or not), choosing as many emojis from each category as described. Based on this, I will create short stories with these characters (1500/2000 words).

Place

(choose one)

🥙 Restaurant

😇 Church

💦 Swimming pool

🤡 Amusement park

🌲 Nature

🏛️ University

🏰 Castle

🏠 House

🖼️ Museum

🎯 Shooting range

🎹 Concert

🍺 Pub

⛽ Car

🚿 Toilet

👛 Shop

Time

(choose part of the year and part of the day)

🔥 Summer

🌸 Spring

🍁 Autumn

❄️ Winter

🌞 Day

🌜 Night

⭐ Morning

✨ Evening

What

(Choose two)

💖 Date

🎉 Anniversary

🎂 Birthday

🎁 Christmas

🦄 Wedding

💥 Argument

🙀 Surprise

😌 Relaxation

💫 Accident

🎃 Jealousy

💐 Care

🤒 Illness

🍄 Fun

🩸 Hurt

How

(Choose two)

💕 Comfort cuddling

🌺 Tender gestures

💣 Rough fucking

🍓 Sexual tension

🍑 Temptation

🥵 Hate sex

🧁 Sweet care

🌼 Soft lovemaking

🙊 Dirty talk

😬 Semi-public sex

😭 Pathetically desperate

💀 Dark desires

I ask that each person limit themselves to sending one request, so that the topics do not repeat themselves and to give everyone a chance. I will attach screenshots of the messages I have already received to this post, so that you know what will be created. Remember to write a title of my fic first. Have fun, don't be shy! 💕

Requests I already received below 👇

[gloomwitchwrites]

HOLY GUACAMOLE!

There are 3,000 of you?? (technically more now that I'm posting this)

I am in shock. Awe. I am so thankful, and completely humbled. This is a wonderful milestone, one I didn't think I'd ever see!

Looks like it's time to start developing another follower event...no headcanons this time, but with October coming up...what do we think about a spooky event?

[monstersholygrail]

Thought it was absolutely crazy how close the polls were in the last installment of the choose your own adventure monster fic. I have never seen a poll be so close before

I saw people in the comments celebrating for Minotaur Boss and mourning Demon Guard. I totally get it haha

RIP Demon Guard. You would have been glorious 🙏����

But Minotaur Boss is going to be hot as hell too. We’re moving on up in this adventure and things are hopefully going to continue getting more intense and wild. I have some great things planned for you guys and possibly some surprises. Reader is really gonna get it in Part 3

I’m excited and I hope you are too!

[sadiegirl2021]

My fic is now over the 100k word count on Ao3!

Thanks to everyone still reading, liking and commenting. It's the motivation I need to get it finished. Only another 30k-ish words to go! 🧡💙💚

HOT GIRL SUMMER on Ao3 Feat.

ELUCIEN

GWYNRIEL

SERIS

[zaldritzosrose]

I Wanna Be Yours (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

We're back! This is fic number three in my Milestone Celebration! Thank you to the lovely @thenameswinter99 for requesting this and for giving me the chance to write Bucky for the first time in almost ten years! See the request ask here.

Summary: Music was the cornerstone to yours and Bucky's relationship. When he struggled to express himself, he sent you songs. So when your wedding day came around, it was no surprise that music was the centre. From your first date until the day you wed, there was one song that underpinned everything.

CW: All fluff (sickeningly sweet if I say so myself), she/her pronouns, afab reader, Bucky being a romantic, romance, mentions of marriage and wedding celebrations.

Words: 2350

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner. Breathing in your dust…

The playlist was soft in the background, a collection of songs that Bucky had put together just for you. Left at the door to your hotel room, with a little note. 

Songs that defined your relationship. Perfect for your wedding day.

I wanna be your Ford Cortina. I will never rust…

You were sat, eyes closed as your makeup and hair were finished. Your dress hung on the wardrobe door in front of you. Your wedding party buzzing around you. Friends, family, everyone who loved and cared about you.

The whole day already seemed perfect. Any nerves you’d had left as soon as you saw the CD with the playlist Bucky had made, the note telling you how excited he was.

If you like your coffee hot. Let me be your coffee pot…

You stood, now, in front of the mirror. Your mother finishing the buttons on the back of your dress, smoothing down the fabric with shaking hands.

You took a steadying breath, grasping your mother’s hands in yours and giving them a squeeze.

“Who’s more nervous, you or me?” you laughed, tugging her around to stand in front of you.

Your mother only laughed, but you could see the tears welling in her eyes.

She was happy for you, you knew that. But you were her little girl, of course there would be a little sadness there.

A knock on the door broke the gentle tension in the room.

You call the shots, babe. I just wanna be yours…

Sam stood at the door, envelope in hand and a smirk on his lips.

“Looking beautiful as always,” he smiled, holding out the envelope.

Your best friend was the closest, taking it in her hand. Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask what it was, Sam held up a hand.

“Sworn to secrecy from the groom. For the eyes of the future Mrs Barnes only.”

The envelope was handed to you and you instantly recognised Bucky’s handwriting. Everyone just smiled as you excused yourself to read in private.

Secrets I have held in my heart. Are harder to hide than I thought…Maybe I just wanna be yours. I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours…

You did your best not to rip the envelope as you opened it, your hands shaking and tears in your eyes before you’d read a single word.

Bucky wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve. But he tried. He tried just for you. He loved seeing the way you’d light up when he bared the faintest sliver of his soul to you.

You were his ‘light in the dark’, he’d always say.

The words on the page were from the deepest part of him. Tears freely fell down your face, makeup forgotten.

Bucky poured his heart out on the page, through a mixture of lyrics from your combined favourite songs. And he ended with the song that had played on your first date.

Wanna be yours. Wanna be yours. Wanna be yours…

Bucky was pacing up and down. He was both excited and nervous. His entire body felt like he was pumped full of electricity.

“The pacing is putting me on edge! Will you stop?”

Sam was the only one allowed in the hotel room with him. Just someone he could trust to keep him sane and calm.

Bucky looked at the clock, finally stopping his pacing. The longer it ticked, the more nervous he got. But at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to see you. 

Let me be your leccy meter. And I'll never run out…

The heavy wooden door was all that stood between you and Bucky. The second it opened; you knew your life would change for the better.

And you couldn’t wait.

Your father was at your arm, just like your mother with tears already in his eyes. His arm hooked tight around yours.

With a steadying breath, you squeezed his arm, and the music started. Just a soft, string cover of one of your favourite songs. The doors opened slowly, and you began to walk.

Let me be the portable heater. That you'll get cold without…

Bucky looked up the second the doors opened, any nervousness in his body replaced by pure joy at the sight of you. More perfect than he could ever imagined.

Sam placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, smiling as he heard the faint sniffles of Bucky trying to hold back tears.

“Told you she looked beautiful.” Sam whispered, squeezing his shoulder once before letting go.

I wanna be your setting lotion (wanna be). Hold your hair in deep devotion (How deep?)

The aisle looked so long; you looked so far away. You walked slowly in time with the music, your arm tight in your father’s as if terrified you’d fall. The walk felt too long and not long enough all at the same time. The faces of your family and friends passing you but you could barely register a single one.

Before Bucky knew it, you were right in front of him. Handing your bouquet off to one of your bridesmaids, Bucky wasted no time in taking one of your hands in his.

He’d been surprised when you’d asked him to no cover his metal arm with a glove as he usually would. It was your wedding day; you wanted him exactly as he was.

Exactly as you loved him.

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean. Now I wanna be yours…

The metal was cool against your skin, but the feeling spread a familiar warmth through your body. It was an odd comfort, but it was a sensation you associated with only Bucky.

The words the officiant spoke were background noise as you simply looked at him. The soft blue of his eyes that shimmered with unshed tears. The small smile on his lips that made you desperate to just kiss him already.

All you could focus on was him.

But the sound of your name pulled you from your reverie.

“Do you take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Bucky squeezed your hand as the words left your lips.

“I do.”

In the run up to wedding, it had taken some convincing from you for Bucky to even consider putting his wedding ring on the traditional finger. But you had spent time searching for a ring that he could wear easily on the metal arm he wore. 

And if it made you happy, he did it.

You slipped the silver ring over the metal digit, a slight tremor of nerves as you did so. Bucky immediately took your hand, stroking a few small circles to calm you down.

It was his turn now. 

Secrets I have held in my heart. Are harder to hide than I thought…

He was crying freely now. The second the ring clinked down his finger, Bucky couldn’t hold them back. Not even trying to wipe them away. If there was any day he could let his emotions run free, it would be today.

The ring sat in his palm as he repeated the words the officiant gave him. Finally able to say those two words.

“I do.”

The ring slipped perfectly on to your finger, his fingers lingering on your skin.

“You may now kiss the bride…”

The whole room erupted in claps and cheers as Bucky’s lips found yours. His arms wrapped around your middle as he held you for what felt like an eternity. But before he pulled away completely, he leaned in to whisper.

“Maybe I just wanna be yours. I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours…”

The first date song. It was like everything had come full circle. You kissed him again, unable to form enough words to express yourself completely.

Wanna be yours. Wanna be yours…

The reception began with, quite literally, a bang. With Bucky’s permission, knowing his occasional struggle with louder noises, Sam had prepared a blast of confetti as you walked into the main hall.

More cheers followed, shouts from your friends and family to welcome the new Mr and Mrs Barnes.

But another surprise for Bucky was to follow. 

You knew what his rank meant to him. A reminder of who he had been and where he had come from. While it wasn’t common place for a military title to take place of ‘Mr’, you knew it would mean the world to Bucky.

You had the sign made in secret. The one part of the wedding planning Bucky never got to see. A large wooden board on an easel just as you walked to the top table.

Sergeant & Mrs Barnes

Bucky’s hand tightened around yours, tugging you to a stop. You glanced up and he was staring at the sign.

“Did…did you do this?” he asked, the words laced with surprise.

You squeezed his hand back, smiling as he brought your clasped hands to his lips.

“You truly are something special, doll.” 

Wanna be yours. Wanna be yours…

The meal was a mixture of everything you and Bucky loved. Food from your childhoods, food from the years you had been together. 

Dessert from your first date. The snacks you always watched movies with laid out with drinks for during your first dance.

The entire wedding was a testament to everything about yours and Bucky’s relationship. A blend of his wartime origins, your modern life and the perfect blend of the two you had both created.

Wanna be yours. Wanna be yours…

Sam’s speech had you in stitches. There were few secrets about Bucky to your family. He wanted them to know as much as necessary about who he had been, and the man you had turned him into. With some omissions. 

The story of the Winter Soldier was still a tough subject. Though no specifics were given, by you when Bucky had been introduced, and now during Sam’s speech – your parents knew just enough.

But when it came to your father’s speech, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. He complimented you, mixed with a few jokes only a father could tell. He praised Bucky, going as far to referring to him as his son for the first time.

You both had to laugh at that, along with some others in the know. Bucky’s true age wasn’t exactly known to everyone.

“Maybe we should tell him?” you whispered between giggles, but Bucky shook his head.

It sounded nice, being called son.

“No, I’m as old as you make me feel, darling.” He whispered back, kissing the skin just below your ear and watching as you blushed. 

Another perfect moment, on a perfect day.

Wanna be yours. Wanna be yours…

The dancefloor was set. Lights filled the room, twinkling against the large windows that were spaced around the room. Your friends and family had made a circle around you both. Cameras poised and ready to capture your first dance as husband and wife.

It was Bucky’s turn to surprise you.

He slipped away and to the DJ’s station. You two hadn’t particularly planned your first dance. Dancing was commonplace within your relationship with Bucky.

He loved nothing more than choosing a song and spinning you around your shared living room. No particular routine, just enjoying the music and letting it influence how you both moved.

And your first dance would be no different. 

All he wanted control of…was the song.

The first time he had ever danced with you, just so happened to be the day he realised he loved you. Bucky had never been one to believe in a movie style romance, that ‘love at first sight’ rubbish that was peddled in media.

But he believed it when he met you.

‘I Wanna Be Yours’ by the Arctic Monkeys filtered through the speakers. He turned with a grin, the crowd parting to let him join you again. The DJ had even agreed to skip to your favourite part.

And the look on your face was everything he’d hoped it would be. Shock, joy and everything in between. 

Bucky walked closer; hand out stretched for you to take. The same way he started every dance with you.

The crowd cheered when you took it, spinning into his embrace as the chorus began.

Wanna be yours. (Wanna be yours)

The dance was perfect. Bucky led you around, twirling and spinning you. Pulling you into his arms and lifting you high as you laughed.

Cameras flashed around you, but you could only focus on him.

“What a romantic you are…” you giggled as he brought you to the ground, feet gently touching the floor.

Bucky dipped you back, kissing you deeply before starting the dance again. 

All you could hear now was the song. All you could see and feel was Bucky. Nothing else mattered in the world right now.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner (wanna be yours). Breathing in your dust (wanna be yours)I wanna be your Ford Cortina (wanna be yours). I will never rust (wanna be yours)

Bucky sang the words to you, holding you close to his chest as he swayed. His hand holding yours to where his heart lay. Letting you feel the heart that beat only for you.

He only ever sang to you. And you thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. But Bucky preferred when you sang with him.

It was life the room was empty. You could almost imagine you were just at home in your living room.

I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours). I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours)

You and Bucky sang in unison, the song drawing to a close as everyone in attendance clapped and cheered for the newlyweds.

“I love you, Mrs Barnes.” Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then to your lips. 

You both came to a stop, your hand still against his chest. 

“I love you too, Sergeant Barnes.”

I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours)

Bucky Taglist:

@thenameswinter99 @foxyanon @tumblin-theworldaway @legitalicat

[targaryen-dynasty]

⋆ 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝟑𝐤 ⋆

hello and welcome to my little milestone celebration. 3k followers is an insane number, and i‘m grateful for every single one of you that supports me and my work in this insane fandom. in honor of this, i‘ve decided to make it westerosi castles and cities related. you can spam my inbox with some things, check below, and let me tell you: i spared no expense and effort.

this celebration takes place from july 15th to july 19th.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 -> let me drop a surprise for you that‘s on fire 🔥 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐫 -> ask me something about myself 🥰 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> let me give you a fic rec (if you feel particularly cheeky, you can ask me for recs of a particular pairing, au or trope - but please clarify if you want nsfw or sfw) 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 -> send a potential fanfic title and a character and you'll get a very, very, very short drabble/plot idea of what I would write based on it 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 -> let's play fmk, wyr, cym or something else! 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐧 -> what is something you would like to see me write about more? certain tropes, aus, pairings, kinks, whatever) 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 -> tell me which of my fics is your favorite (and maybe even why 👉👈) 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞 -> send me a fic of yours and I'll give you my honest opinion 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 -> i‘ll give a shoutout to a favorite author of mine!

tagging some people: @schniiipsel @arcielee @sylasthegrim @black-dread @anjelicawrites

@thought--bubble @marthawrites @aemondsbabe @aemondstark @zaldritzosrose

@peachysunrize @youraverageaemondsimp @adragonprinceswhore @flowerandblood @kaelatargaryen

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Fuck Yeah 2nd birthday x Seams sleepover

So it turns out March is quite a big month in the Tumblr calendar for me! I posted my first story for the fandom on March 19, 2022, and last year on March 26, Joel met Pin for the first time 🥹

I have not one, but two Seams pieces coming for you this month! One is a drabble, and the other is a short interlude chapter that sits between Notch and the next full-length chapter. Let's call it Chapter 4.5, and we're turning up the heat in this one FINALLY 🌶️ It's been a long time coming, I'm excited to get the show back on the road with Seams!

If you feel like celebrating with me, I'm opening up some fun requests for Seams to get me back into the Jackson frame of mind. From today, send me one or more emojis:

🧢 Send me a headcanon request or send in your headcanon for the Seams universe!

💬 Put Joel and Pin (or any other character in Seams) in a situation - can be anything, soft, comical, spicy, crack - and I'll write a micro drabble about it (low-key nervous about this one, but I want to exercise my brain!) Requests closed, thank you!

🖼️ Request a moodboard of any Seams scene - you can even request for a future chapter if you're feeling cheeky 😉

🧠 Got any ideas that you'd like to see in the future for Seams? I'd love to hear them!

🃏 Wildcard - ask me anything about Seams! No questions are off limits.

I don't know how many requests I will get, but I'll keep them open for as long as I get them! Thank you everyone for the love you've given me these two years on Tumblrverse, this is a token of my gratitude for you, so I hope this will be fun for you guys! Here's to many more ❤️

[midnight-mourning]

1000 kudos/100 Follower Special!

wow so um, there’s a LOT of you now

👀👀👀

WHERE DID Y'ALL EVEN COME FROM LIKE?? HI!! 👋👋👋

AND ALSO

THIS???? CRAZY, incredibly appreciated <3 but also wild

anyway, I think that deserves celebrating! So, here’s a couple ideas I came up with for y’all to vote on, with the option of sharing other ideas in the comments, I’ll do the top two and save the others for the next milestone :)

If the 'other' option gets the most/second most votes, I'll do another poll with ideas that people suggested and we'll go from there. You can scroll down and click the read more if you'd like more info on each option! SO, having said all that:

Letting you guys make the call with this one! I have stuff prepped for all of it, just a matter of people voting since this is ME showing my appreciation to YOU. And again, next milestone will have the opportunity for the other choices :)

Also, this isn't just for followers/the moots either! Anyone is welcome to vote and participate if they'd like to 💙💙

Please also feel free to ask questions in the comments if that helps you with voting! Can't wait to see what you guys pick :D

I will expand on each option here for clarity in your decision making:

CS one-shot: I will write a one-shot (3,000-5,000 words prob) based in the CS universe. It will be canon to the fic but will never be mentioned/referenced in the fic itself so stand alone to read. It may be a future scene, may be based somewhere in the current timeline. Open to ideas on the POV and such (though I have some floating around that I can do ;))

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Finished refs/busts for the cast of CS: I'll post the finished versions of the rough sketches I shared a few months ago, along with the remainder of the cast! This includes the rest of the engineering team, the division heads, the glamrocks, and the DCA! I also will include little blurbs for all the characters as well. This will probably happen eventually anyway BUT if you want them sooner rather than later this is you're chance if you're curious :)

Spooky Season one-shot: something halloween-related that again I'm open to ideas for! Would also be about 3,000-5,000 words in length, could be related to CS or not

Writing Requests: similar to the requests I did for reveal day, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) but a little longer in length (500-1000 words)

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

Other: explained above

[fortheloveofwonderland]

The Magic 8 | Ralvez x Fem! Reader

This was another request for my milestone celebration from @andiebeaword which just turned into a crazy, smutty beast. This is so loosely tied to the song and I’m sorry. I had to throw weird magic 8 ball references into it that might seem out of place but it made me feel better for going so far off track with this. This is super NSFW Minors DNI.

Summary - Spencer and Luke’s relationship is on rocky ground as Spencer starts to regret never getting to be with a woman. When Luke suggests inviting Spencer’s favourite barista to join them in the bedroom, all signs point to yes.

CW - this is just utter filth, proceed with caution. Oof where to begin - talk of sexuality, Spencer has never been with a woman, sexually fluid Luke, PWP, very brief mention of drinking and past drug addiction, making out, sub! Reader, Dom! Luke, switch! Spencer (Dom with reader, sub with Luke), handjobs, swearing, slight masturbation (male), oral sex (f and m receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, fingering, overstimulation, coming untouched, penetrative, protected sex.

WC - 6.7k

Uncertainties were a tragic and unfair symptom of living, something Spencer Reid had learnt all too many times in his years on earth. Life was inherently unforeseeable, unpredictable by nature. 

For someone who hated the unknown like Spencer, it was a hard pill to swallow but one he’d had to swallow time and time again. Life was no less random than the answers on a magic 8 ball, and he’d had to come to terms with that. 

If there was one thing Spencer had always been able to be certain of it was his sexuality. For as long as he could remember he’d always known he was gay and it was a small definitive in his world that he’d been able to count on for many years. 

He’d never looked at girls the way other boys his age had, Spencer had been too busy looking at the boys themselves. He didn’t really understand what that meant until he reached his teens and for a long time it was a part of himself he tried to deny. 

He was already an outcast with being younger and smarter than all of his peers and he didn’t want to add any fuel to the bullies fire. He kept it to himself, his own little secret. 

It was only once he was in his twenties he became ready to act upon it and once he did he never looked back. 

In an uncertain world, his sexuality was the only thing he was certain of. 

Until he wasn’t. 

When Spencer first met Luke Alvez he thought all his birthdays and Christmases had come at once. Spencer had fallen head over heels for him and much to his surprise, Luke had felt the same. 

He’d never been happier than he was with Luke, but then he met you and you changed everything. 

Spencer had never found himself looking at a woman the way he looked at you. There was something so magnetic about you that he gravitated towards you without even meaning to do so. 

You were the new barista at his favourite coffee shop and you were effervescent, ethereal in your beauty. Spencer found himself often getting tongue tied around you, tripping over his words and sometimes even his own feet. 

And without intentionally doing so, he pulled away from Luke. It was little by little at first until there seemed to be a chasm between them. 

Was his happiness simply a trend for Spencer? Tomorrow now seemed misunderstood, because it was reading outlook not so good. If only the signs would point to “yes” and you could maybe feel the same for him. 

But that wasn’t what he wanted right? He loved Luke, he was just going through a phase. It was nothing more than a harmless crush. 

Wasn’t it? 

Wasn’t it? 

Luke had noticed the way Spencer was acting but he didn’t understand what was happening other than the fact his boyfriend of three years was shutting him out. Every time he tried to talk to the younger man about it he changed the subject. And every time he tried to initiate contact, Spencer shied away. 

Eventually he’d had enough and he had to confront Spencer or risk losing him for good. It had taken some pursuing from Luke and a lot of resistance from Spencer but Luke managed to get to the bottom of his boyfriend's little crush. 

And thus had ensued a long and arduous conversation. 

Luke was, to Spencer’s surprise, extremely understanding. He understood Spencer’s curiosity even if Spencer didn’t. 

Luke had always been a lot more fluid with his sexuality, he’d been with both women and men in the past whereas Spencer had never been with a woman before. 

It confused Spencer and Luke also understood that. Spencer had been so sure about this one aspect of his life from a young age and it didn’t make sense to him how, in his forties, he was now questioning that. 

Luke didn’t begrudge Spencer’s interest and tried to tell the younger man it was perfectly understandable that one day he might find himself curious about these things he’d never experienced before. 

And somehow the conversation had culminated in Luke suggesting a threesome.

Spencer initially vehemently shut that idea down. He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of sharing his boyfriend and the thought of being with a woman quite frankly terrified him. 

But the more Luke talked about it, the more Spencer started to open up to it. Although it was terrifying it was also incredibly exciting. And it would only be one night, one night in which he could explore a side of himself he never had before and then everything could go back to normal. 

So he found himself waiting at the coffee shop one day until your shift ended, closing his eyes and ready to take a leap of faith. 

He was prepared for you to say no, to probably call him a creep and he would subsequently need to find a new coffee shop. 

But after explaining everything to you, and showing you pictures of Luke, you’d been surprisingly interested. 

And that was how he’d found himself in a hotel room with his boyfriend and his barista, staring dumbly from across the room and ringing his hands together in his lap. 

There’d been some casual conversation, a drink in the bar to loosen them up, at least for the two of you who didn’t have a past with addiction. But soon enough Luke was suggesting they head upstairs and Spencer’s heart had been beating erratically ever since. 

He sat in the chair in the corner of the room while Luke, who had always been the more confident of the two, wasted no time in moving in on you. 

He held your face in his hands as he kissed you ferociously, bodies flush against each other and small gratified moans leaving both of your lips. 

The first thing Spencer felt was jealousy and not because you were kissing his boyfriend. He was jealous because since the moment he’d laid eyes on you he’d wanted to do what Luke was doing now. 

Your hands wandered Luke’s back while he kissed you, and Spencer felt like a spare part. For a moment or two he felt as though you’d both simply forgotten him and that he was in for a night of watching you and Luke together. 

But then Luke pulled back from your lips and stepped out of your grasp, turning and looking over at the shy man cowering in the corner.

“Spence, you just gonna watch all night?” Luke chuckled, heading over to him and pulling the younger man to his feet. “You’re the reason we’re doing this, cariño.” 

Spencer felt his stomach coiling into knots as Luke led him closer to you. You were smiling sweetly at him, your lips already slightly puffy from Luke’s kiss. 

When Luke let go of him you quickly stepped closer to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

“You've never even kissed a woman?” You tilted your head to the side as you looked at him. 

“N-no.” He stuttered with a shake of his head. 

“You do want this right, Spencer? You seem…uncomfortable.” You regarded him curiously. 

“I’m always uncomfortable, that’s normal. I, uh, I really want this. I’m just incredibly nervous.” He kept his hands at his side, acutely aware of Luke watching him. 

“That’s ok, we can go slow.” You moved closer to him, your breasts pushing up against his chest and he hissed slightly. “You can touch me, Spencer.” 

“Oh.” He nodded. “Oh, ok.” 

His hands trembled a little as he raised his arms and placed them cautiously on your hips. You offered him an encouraging smile as you inched your face slowly closer to his, giving him a chance to change his mind if he wanted to. 

But he didn’t want to. 

Your lips gently brushed against his own and that tiny action was all he needed and suddenly it was like a light had switched on. One his hands flew to the back of your head, holding you in place as he somewhat roughly slammed his lips against yours. 

You moaned at the sudden forcefulness and Spencer was quick to slide his tongue in your mouth. He gripped the back of your hair and kissed you so deeply the air vanished from your lungs. 

Luke’s eyes widened at the quick change in his boyfriend who was kissing you more frantically than Luke had ever seen. 

And when Spencer used his grip on your hair to lead you back to the bed and push you down to the mattress, Luke felt himself growing hard in an instant. 

He shoved you back to the bed and he remained standing, looking down at you with dark eyes. His previous nerves had disappeared, it was like looking at a completely different person. 

Truthfully the moment he tasted your lips everything seemed to click into place for him. He needed this more than he’d ever realised and now he had the chance he didn’t plan on squandering it. 

Spencer had spent his whole life as a submissive in every aspect of his life. But one kiss from you brought out his dominant side and he adored the way it made him feel. 

He glanced at Luke and the visible tenting in his jeans. Looking into the older man’s eyes, his dominance slipped for a moment and he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Is this…is this ok?” He swallowed. 

“Spencer, it is more than ok. I want you to enjoy this, this is your night.” Luke encouraged him. 

Spencer nodded and turned back to you and your ragdoll form on the mattress. His lip twitched up into a slightly dangerous smirk. 

“Get undressed.” He commanded, his voice so stern you knew not to argue it. 

You were eager to do as you were told, scrabbling to get out of your clothes while the two men stood side by side watching as your articles of clothing got fewer and fewer. 

Once your bra was removed, Spencer’s jaw fell slack as he stared at your chest, the first pair of breasts he’d ever seen in real life. 

You puffed out your chest proudly and worked on getting off your jeans. Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of every dip and curve in your body. 

If the tightening in his pants was any indication, he wasn’t nearly as gay as he’d always thought he was. 

He was so busy staring at you as you shimmied off your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a silk thong, he didn’t notice Luke moving behind him until he felt the older man’s strong arms wrap around his waist. 

Luke’s lips glided over the shell of his ear and one of his hands palmed Spencer through his slacks.

“Enjoying this, Spence?” Luke whispered as he nibbled on Spencer’s ear lobe.

“Very much so.” Spencer nodded dumbly. 

“He told you to get undressed, sweetheart.” Luke spoke to you while he worked on the buttons of Spencer’s slacks, grinding against him from behind. “Panties off.” 

As if being told what to do by one man wasn’t already hot, having them both command you made your head spin. 

You quickly did as you were told and lowered your underwear down your legs as Luke’s hand was slipping inside of Spencer’s pants and freeing his erect cock. 

Spencer made an animalistic hissing sound at the sight of you fully nude. That combined with Luke’s hand which was now languidly stroking him made his knees buckle. 

“What do you want to do to her, baby?” Luke nuzzled against his ear. 

Spencer moaned lightly at the mere thought. His options were wide open, he could do anything he wanted to you but where did he begin? 

Where was the magic 8 ball when he needed it? 

You watched him curiously, standing by the side of the bed in all your glory while Luke worked Spencer’s cock in his hand. 

His pumps were lazy and slow, not intending to bring his boyfriend to orgasm but more just to tide him over. 

“Fuck,” Spencer mumbled as all the sordid thoughts spun around his head. “I wanna…fuck…I think I want to eat her out.” 

You whined and pressed your thighs together at the thought. You knew the situation, you knew Spencer had never been with a woman before but you had no doubt he would be good at whatever he had planned. 

Luke bucked himself against Spencer’s ass and tightened his hold on the other man’s shaft. 

“Jesus I’d really like to see that.” Luke moaned, breath hitting the side of Spencer’s face. “I’ve got an idea.” 

Luke let go of Spencer’s dick and stepped around him until he was face to face with his partner, his back to you. Spencer whined a little now Luke was blocking his view of you but Luke was smiling. 

He brought his hands to the top button of Spencer’s shirt and started popping them open. Spencer didn’t question it and simply let Luke free him from his shirt. 

Once it was undone, Luke tossed the garment on the floor before helping Spencer out of his pants and boxers with zero protest from Spencer. 

With Spencer now naked too, his hard member standing to attention against his stomach, Luke led him towards the bed by the wrist. 

Spencer didn’t complain when Luke laid him down on the bed, head resting against the pillows. He was a little confused but he trusted Luke. 

Having Spencer in position, Luke turned to you with an almost wicked smile. He curled his finger, motioning you towards him and you happily complied. 

Luke quickly slammed his lips against yours again and his hands started wandering down your body while his tongue explored your mouth. 

Soon enough his large hand was between your thighs, spreading them a little before his middle and index finger suddenly swiped through through folds, causing you to yelp. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Spence, she’s so wet already. You’re gonna love this.” 

Spencer whined, his hand wandering of its own volition, finding his shaft and firmly squeezing the base. 

Luke collected your arousal on his fingers before brushing over your clit a few times but all too soon he was withdrawing his fingers entirely. 

His pupils were blown out wide as he pulled back from you, a smirk adorned on his lips.

“You want him to eat your pussy, angel?” He tucked your hair behind your ear. 

You mewled in response, but Luke was looking at you, demanding a verbal answer.

“Yes, yes! Fuck, please?” You whimpered. 

Luke nodded in satisfaction, turning your body by the shoulders to face Spencer who was still holding his cock in his hand. 

“Sit on his face.” Luke commanded, tone so stern that even if that didn’t sound incredibly hot you would have done it anyway. 

Spencer’s eyes widened as you crawled on the bed, his nerves returning in an instant. 

“What if I’m not…what if I’m not any good?” His cheeks burned with embarrassment but he directed his question at Luke and not you. 

“Baby, you’ll be just fine. You’re a genius after all, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Luke winked at him and it provided Spencer with encouragement. 

You kneeled over his chest, a little hesitant to go any further. But then suddenly Spencer was grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer. 

He met no resistance from you and was able to pull you like a rag doll until you were hovering over his face. He exhaled a shaky breath and you felt it between your legs. 

“It’s ok cariño, you can do it.” Luke gave Spencer’s leg a reassuring squeeze. 

Spencer growled as he inhaled your scent and suddenly like a man possessed, he tugged you down so you were sitting on his face and his tongue brushed over your most sensitive area.

You whined loudly at the contact and Spencer’s arm came to rest heavily across your thighs to keep you in place. His tongue glided through you, gathering your arousal and hissing at the taste of you. 

When his tongue settled back on your clit and he started lapping and sucking on your bud you couldn’t help but wiggle on his face, feeling the glorious friction from his stubble between your legs. 

He didn’t go easy on you, he wasn’t tentative like a man who had never done this before. He was immediately eating you out with the desperation of a man devouring his final meal. 

His arm was heavy against your thighs, keeping you steadily in place. You leant your palms on the headboard of the bed to keep you upright.

Luke was moaning to himself as he listened to the glorious and slightly messy sounds Spencer was making between your legs. 

He watched the way his boyfriends eyes fluttered closed and he buried his face into you while his tongue worked your clit. 

Your body was already trembling above him, and the moans leaving your parted lips were the sweetest song Luke had ever heard. 

He undressed himself, his eyes never leaving Spencer for a second. As soon as he was naked like the two of you he climbed onto the bed. 

You barely registered the weight of the bed shift beneath you, too focused on Spencer’s work with his mouth. It seemed impossible that he hadn’t done this before because he knew exactly what he was doing. 

He flattened his tongue and ran it through your folds to collect more of your arousal before he settled back on his ministrations on your clit. 

He held you down with force, you wouldn’t be surprised if he left a bruise across your thighs with the pressure he was exerting. 

Spencer didn’t care. He was obsessed with the way you tasted and couldn’t believe he’d gotten to this age and never tried this. 

He could feel you soaking his face, as his nose buried against you while his tongue continued to lap and suck greedily at you. 

His cock was throbbing painfully, in desperate need of stimulation. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if he came untouched simply from the taste of you. 

He was certain this would not be his last time doing this. 

You suddenly felt a warm, hard body encompassing you from behind at the same time Spencer felt a pressure on his chest. 

Luke knelt either side of Spencer’s torso and pressed himself against your back. 

“Jesus Christ you have no idea how hot this is.” He panted against your ear. “How does she taste, Spence?”

“Hmm.” The younger man simply hummed against you, sending a vibration through your entire body. 

Your eyes were rolling back in your head at Spencer’s deft tongue but that wasn’t even the half of it. 

You felt something ghosting between your legs from behind and then suddenly two thick digits were plunging inside of you. 

“Holy shit.” You mumbled incoherently as your head fell to your chest. 

Luke smirked as he placed a kiss against your neck and started working his fingers inside of you. 

“Fuck, Spence she’s tight. Your gonna want to fuck her.” 

Spencer hummed against your clit again and tightened his hold on your thighs. He nuzzled his face entirely between your legs, desperate to taste more of you but the idea of being inside you made his cock pulse achingly. 

Luke thrust his fingers deeply inside of you, feeling you fluttering and clenching around him. The moans and whimpers leaving your lips were feral and he could tell you wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Are you close, pretty girl?” He mumbled against your neck. 

“Mmm hmm.” You pathetically replied. 

Luke grinded his hips against your back whilst his fingers moved in and out of you rapidly, pounding into you with bruising force. 

Spencer never let up even for a second and the sounds of his tongue between your legs filled the room alongside three sets of moans. 

Your body startled to tremble furiously and you felt your orgasm pooling in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly your back went rigid and your eyes shot open as you reached your peak. 

“F-fuck!” You screamed so loud the walls shook, clenching around Luke’s fingers as Spencer swallowed every drop of your orgasm. 

Soon you were going limp again and Luke held you upright with his body as he slowly slipped his fingers out from between your legs. 

But Spencer didn’t seem perturbed. 

His arm on your thigh tightened even more so and he continued circling your sweet spot with his tongue. 

Luke wrapped his arms around you to steady you, your body shaking. 

“S-Spencer,” you whined. “S’too much!” 

But Spencer still didn’t stop. 

His tongue traversed through your legs and back again to your clit where he pressed the flat of the muscle against you.

You whimpered, quaking on top of him and trying to squeeze your thighs together but his head was in the way. It seemed to spur him on and his tongue moved faster. 

“Spencer?” Luke tried to get his attention but Spencer didn’t listen. 

His own orgasm was building and he was so close he couldn’t stop now. 

He kept up his work, seemingly not noticing your whines or the tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation. You felt him moan between your legs and then out of nowhere his body started to convulse beneath you. 

His grip on you loosened and you fell back into Luke’s waiting arms. Spencer was panting and moaning furiously. 

Luke helped you to lay down next to Spencer but he couldn’t take his eyes off of his boyfriend and the slickness coating his mouth and chin. 

When his eyes cast further down the younger man’s body he noticed his slowly softening cock and his come all over his stomach. 

Luke couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Spencer coming simply from pleasuring you. 

Luke laid down between you, two worn out and lifeless bodies either side of him. But he wasn’t done with either of you, he hadn’t gotten off yet. 

He gripped Spencer by the jaw and turned his head to face him before smashing his lips against his boyfriends. 

The taste of you on Spencer’s lips was phenomenal and he made a gut wrenching moan erupt from Luke’s lungs. 

“You liked that huh?” Luke smirked into the kiss. “I guess you must have done if you can come just from eating pussy.” 

Spencer simply mewled, his body shuddering at the thought and Luke chuckled as he slowly manoeuvred himself down the bed. 

He bowed his head to Spencer’s stomach and started lapping his tongue over his flesh, cleaning his boyfriend of his arousal. 

Spencer whined a little at the sensation, wriggling on the bed but allowing Luke to clean him up. 

“Come on guys, what about me?” Luke sat back on his haunches and looked at the two of you, already complete wrecks. 

He chuckled with a roll of his eyes and got up from the bed, tugging Spencer by the wrist until he was sitting up. 

“Since you have such an oral fixation, it’s my turn, cariño.” Luke nodded to his hard cock which was begging to be touched. 

Spencer whimpered again but nodded all the same and forced himself onto his knees in front of Luke. 

He would get a second wind, no doubt. One of his favourite things in the world was giving his boyfriend head and he would never turn down the opportunity, 

He placed his hands on Luke’s hips as he bowed his head closer to his length, blowing cool air over the tip and making Luke groan. 

Soon he was parting his lips and wrapping them around Luke, quickly taking the older man all the way in his mouth until he hit the back of his throat. 

But Spencer didn’t even seem to notice. He had the most impressive gag reflex that even when Luke got carried away and fucked Spencer’s mouth, Spencer never batted an eyelid. 

The sloppy sounds of saliva and Luke’s moans caught your attention and you rolled onto your side to see Spencer now taking the other man’s length like it was his job. 

You’d given plenty of blowjobs in your life but you’d never gotten the chance to witness one in real life. 

It was a dizzying sight, the way Luke’s entire cock disappeared inside of Spencer’s mouth, the same mouth that had been pleasuring you just moments before. 

The way Spencer’s tongue glided up the vein on Luke’s shaft and then danced teasingly over his swollen head was intoxicating. The way Luke’s abs tightened each time Spencer took him all the way to the back of his throat was glorious. 

Luke’s eyes snapped up from where they’d been watching Spencer and onto you, that dangerous smirk on his lips again.

“Come and give him a hand, angel.” He winked at you and his tone told you exactly what he meant. 

You still felt weak as you clambered to the edge of the bed, your skin so sensitive. You dropped down to the floor kneeling behind Spencer and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

He was already half hard again as you wrapped your hand around his shaft and a muffled scream left his lips at the sudden contact. You felt his body jerk forward at your touch, thrusting his face into Luke’s pubic hair. 

Luke chuckled and moved his hand to the back of Spencer’s head, balling up his locks and using his grip to control the pace. 

Spencer was standing at full attention in no time at all as you stroked him and you felt yourself getting turned on again too. 

Luke stared down at the two of you on the floor as he bucked back and forth in Spencer’s mouth. Luke had always been the more dominant of the two men and having both of you on your knees, so subservient to him was the most incredible feeling in the world. 

He wanted to freeze time, to capture this delicious image in his mind. He wanted this to last forever.

But he also wanted more. 

He knew this was supposed to be for Spencer’s benefit but it had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to be with a woman and Luke didn’t want to let it pass him by. 

He already felt his precum leaking down Spencer’s throat but that wasn’t how he wanted to come. 

Suddenly he let go of Spencer’s hair and stepped back from the younger man’s mouth. If there was ever a sight to reduce a grown man to a fucking puddle it was the one Luke was witnessing now.

A trail of salvia joined the head of his cock to Spencer’s chin, dripping down from his pouty lips. His eyes were large and doe like, staring up at Luke like he hung the moon, messy hair falling in his face. 

And you were behind him, chest pushed up against his back while you continued to stroke his cock. 

The love he felt for this man was incomprehensible, the kind that defied all laws of nature. 

But he would put a pin in that, he had more pressing matters to attend to. 

“Both of you up.” He commanded and you both scurried to your feet without question. 

Luke’s hungry eyes took you all in, focusing on you while Spencer stood dumbly at your side. 

“On the bed, spread your legs.” He told you sternly and yet again you were quick to comply. 

Luke located the condoms, ripped one open and rolled it over his length. It was a little odd at first, he hadn’t used condoms since he and Spencer first started dating but at least it might mean he could last a little longer. 

Although given how turned on he was, even a condom might not help. 

Spencer looked at him a little sadly, a pathetic whine leaving his lips. 

“What about me? I thought I was going to fuck her?” 

“And you will, baby,” Luke cooed, brushing his fingers along Spencer’s jaw. “But it’s my turn first, you already got to come. It’s only fair that I do too.” 

“O-ok.” Spencer nodded. “W-what do I do?” 

“You get to watch, cariño.” Luke shot him a wink before climbing onto the bed where you laid out in front of him. 

He regarded you curiously for a moment or two before he pulled you up by your biceps. 

“I want you to ride me, angel. Can you do that for me?” He whispered so lovingly and you nodded which seemed to please him. 

He let go of your arms and positioned himself so he was sitting up against the headboard. You climbed into his lap, a knee either side of his hips and hovered over his length. 

Luke glanced at Spencer who was still standing dumbly at the side of the bed like a spare part. He patted the mattress next to him. 

“Come here,” he nodded his head, motioning Spencer over. 

Spencer did as he was told yet again and came and sat next to Luke just as you started lowering yourself onto him.

From this angle Spencer had the most incredible view of Luke’s cock as it disappeared inch by inch inside your cunt. 

You and Luke moaned simultaneously as he pushed inside of you. He was thick and heavy but maybe not as long as Spencer but he stretched you out as he entered you. 

“Fucking Christ,” Luke moaned as he bottomed out inside you. “I forgot how good that feels.” 

It was different than having Spencer around him. Not better, not worse; just different. He wouldn’t trade sex with Spencer for anything in the world but you felt so spectacular that for a brief moment or two he forgot about Spencer’s existence. 

It was only when the younger man let out a guttural moan that Luke remembered him sitting next to him. As you started bouncing up and down on his cock, he gave Spencer a sideways glance. 

“Touch yourself for me.” He whispered to his boyfriend. 

Spencer’s hand immediately found his own member and he started stroking himself languidly. 

Your eyes flit between where Luke was repeatedly slamming inside of you and to where Spencer was jerking himself slowly. 

Luke grabbed your hips and used his grip to help move you up and down. His own hips were bucking to meet you, his orgasm dangerously close after the night's previous events. 

His head was a complete mess, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been so turned on in his entire life. He didn’t want this moment to end so soon but he knew his release was imminent. 

“Fucking hell I’m sorry, I’m so close.” Luke whined, his thrusts becoming more frantic. 

You tried to meet his pace and each time he pounded inside of you his blunt head slammed right against your bundle of nerves. 

“S-Spence,” he panted, eyes hooded and full of lust. “Get a c-condom. You can f-finish her off.” 

Spencer squeezed the base of his cock at the thought, a cacophony of nerves and excitement bubbling in his chest. 

He reached over to the side table and retrieved a condom, his hand shaking a little as he tried to tear the foil package. 

Of course he’d helped men with them before but he’d never had the need to wear one himself. Rolling the rubber over his length was a new and strange experience but that would only be the half of it. 

It started to dawn on him that in just a few moments he would be buried inside of you, an encounter he never expected to be having. 

But he couldn’t fucking wait. 

Luke’s face contorted and his fingers dug into your hips as he bucked one last time and came with a strangled moan, spilling his seed inside of the condom. 

Spencer watched on in eager anticipation as Luke continued to lazily thrust in and out of you, growing slightly impatient. 

“My turn?” He whimpered pathetically. “Please?” 

Luke glanced over at him again, eyes barely open and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He reached a lazy hand out to stroke Spencer’s cheek. 

“Of course baby.” He whispered, helping you off of him and hearing you whine as he slid out of you. 

You looked at Spencer while rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, unsure of what you were meant to do. 

“Where do you…how do you…?” You asked softly. 

Spencer’s eyes widened at the question, and he quickly became overwhelmed. Luke could tell by the slight panic in his boyfriend's eyes that his mind was over saturating, over-thinking this moment like he did every other moment.

“Take a breath, Spence.” Luke mumbled. “Close your eyes, I know you’ve pictured this moment. Close your eyes and imagine it.” 

Spencer once again did as he was told he closed his eyes. Luke was right, he had pictured this, a huge amount as of late. 

With Luke, Spencer gave over all his control, letting Luke have the dominance. He’d never minded, always happy in his role as the submissive but right now he craved that power. 

He wanted a position in which he could have full authority over you, in which he would hold all the cards. 

He opened his eyes suddenly and surprised you both when he stood up. He curled his finger for you to do the same which you did in an instant. 

As soon as you were on your feet he grabbed you somewhat roughly by the wrist and led you to the corner of the room where the armchair sat. 

He brought you to the back of it, turning you around so you were bent over it, your back to him. He shoved the back of your head down and parted your legs with his other hand. 

“Just like this,” his voice was breathy. “Fucking perfect.” 

Two fingers ran between your folds and you hummed against the fabric of the chair. But they soon disappeared so he could wrap his hand around his cock and guide it to where he needed it to be. 

He lined himself up and looked over at Luke who hadn’t moved. Spencer’s eyes were questioning, unsure as he looked at his partner. 

“If you don’t want to do this, Spence, no one is going to force you.” Luke spoke quietly, reassuringly. 

“I very much want to, trust me.” Spencer replied. 

“Then what are you waiting for, cariño?” Luke smirked and it was all the impetus Spencer needed. 

He took a shaky breath before he cautiously pushed his head past your threshold. His eyes instantly doubled in size and Luke noticed his entire body stiffening. 

Spencer was still looking at Luke as his mouth fell open and he dared to push another inch inside of you. 

You moaned as he did so, feeling that familiar stretch you’d experienced with Luke. Neither man was small, you would undoubtedly be sore tomorrow. 

“Keep going, baby.” Luke encouraged with a smile. 

Spencer swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously as he did so. Inch by inch, excruciatingly slowly he vanished inside of you, hands holding you steady by your hips. 

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you his whole body stilled as he adjusted to the way it felt. Nothing could have prepared him for it, the way he could feel your walls stretching to accommodate him; how warm and wet you were wrapped around him. 

“How is it, Spence?” Luke breathed. 

“I…I…no words.” Spencer panted his reply. 

There truly were no words to describe it and Spencer usually had a word for everything. But this was so beyond his wildest comprehension that even his giant brain couldn’t find the necessary prose that would do this justice. 

He took another deep breath, finally looking away from Luke and down between your bodies. He gasped loudly at the sight awaiting him as he pulled his hips back, seeing the condom coated in your slick. 

And when he pushed back in his head spun at the way he disappeared inside of you, taking his entire length. 

“Fucking hell.” He panted breathily.

His animalistic side took over then and he started suddenly pounding into you, hard and fast jabs of his cock as it filled you up again and again. 

You gripped the armchair and your moans muffled against the material. Your legs were shaking but Spencer was holding you up with a firm grip on your waist. 

Each time he slammed against you, he seemed to hit you in a new spot and his hips slapped against your ass probably leaving bruises. 

Luke was moaning from his position on the bed, his cock starting to grow hard again at the sight of his boyfriend pounding you. 

Spencer’s face was contorted into an expression of pure ecstasy, like nothing Luke had ever seen before. 

He looked delirious, his eyes half rolled back in his head and his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. 

He fucked you into the armchair, his thrusts unyielding as he worked his way to his orgasm. 

Luke moved without the forethought to do so, on his feet and moving across the room. He came up behind Spencer and wrapped his arms around the other man’s chest, pressing his lips against the soft flesh of his neck. 

“How good does it feel, Spence?” Luke mumbled against his neck. 

“Fucking…so good, so fucking good.” Spencer whined, hips snapping back and forth frantically. 

Luke nibbled on his boyfriend's neck, fingers brushing over his nipples before tweaking them a little. His dick pressed against one of Spencer’s ass cheeks and the friction caused by Spencer’s thrusts was dizzying. 

Spencer felt the telltale tightening in his stomach, the coil wound so tight it would imminently snap. He somehow pounded you harder and you could feel your own orgasm sneaking up on you. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer spoke in a ragged voice, “are you close?” 

“Hmm.” You replied, nodding your head. 

“Fuck, me too.” Spencer agreed. 

Luke could feel Spencer’s impending release in the way his body tightened in his arms and his legs started to wobble furiously. 

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…oh fuck!” He bellowed, burying so deep inside of you as he came in the condom, at the same time he felt you clenching and pulsing around him as your own orgasm joined him. 

His hips kept slowly bucking and he closed his eyes, leaning the weight of his body back against Luke’s chest. 

Luke held him while he came down from his high, while he tried to compensate in his cloudy mind how anything could feel that good. 

Eventually his movements stilled completely and reluctantly he withdrew from you, causing you both to whimper at the emptiness you both suddenly felt. 

His arms still around Spencer, Luke first helped his partner to the bed where he collapsed like a doll, before he returned and aided you to the bed as well with an arm around your waist. 

Luke stood at the foot of the bed and watched the two fucked out bodies as you and Spencer fought to catch your breaths. 

Spencer was on his back with his eyes closed and his fingers ran lazily up and down his own rib cage as though trying to bring himself back down to Earth. 

You were curled up on your side, eyes also closed as you nuzzled against the pillow. 

Luke smiled to himself, hand involuntarily wrapping around the base of his shaft as he regarded you both. 

He started leisurely stroking himself as his eyes flicked between the two of you, dark eyes with blown out pupils. 

In his wildest dreams he never could have predicted how magnificent this night could be. What could have been his and Spencer’s downfall he knew would now only bring them closer. 

The magic 8 ball might have forecast a less than favourable outcome but right now all signs were pointing to yes. And Luke was by no means finished with the fun. 

He stepped a little closer, still stroking himself as he watched you both with a large smile on his face. 

“I’ll give you a moment to catch your breaths,” he spoke almost callously, forcing you both to open your eyes. “But don’t think we’re done here. We’re gonna keep shaking this magic 8 until it breaks.”