#and i had hersheys chocolate syrup

[all-thestories-aretrue]

Ironically, I need a donut pillow but I have donuts.

[icewindandboringhorror]

It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Who's Counting?

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Smut +18)

Summary: Part 2 to So It Goes, but could be read as a standalone. Spencer and reader have been dating consistently for a couple of months, after finally admitting feelings for each other at a night in a bar. Other things, like their sexual experience were admitted as well. Reader, after plenty of lunches and dates with Spencer is ready to take that step with Spencer…if he’ll ever make the move.

Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving) fingering, penetrative sex with protection

Note: I’ve been kind of off lately with writing consistently, but for some reason I had a lot of inspiration when writing this one. So I hope you like it. I’m really happy with it!

Word Count: 7K

After seventeen more shared lunches, three actual dates, and many nights with Spencer even sleeping over at my place. It took nearly everything in me to convince him to sleep in the same bed as me. Spencer, it seemed, was hellbent on taking it slow. It was hard to take things slow, especially when the man I’m taking things slow with, just happened to be the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. 

On our eighteenth shared lunch, Spencer sat next to me on the dark green upholstered chair in his office. I loved his office. It was quaint with mismatched furniture and probably hundreds of books all over the place. He had framed pictures of his former co-workers/basically brother’s and sister’s kids on his desk. It smelled like coffee and grapefruit air freshener. And I loved it. 

I brought leftover chicken curry over rice for us to split. Spencer, like always, provided the coffee. Dating a man with an impeccable memory proved useful when he always remembered my coffee order after hearing me place an order for it once. 

“Coffee with a splash of oat milk and cinnamon,” Spencer said. He placed the drink before me on the desk as I handed him his lunch portion, “Oh, and I bought you some Hershey’s chocolate syrup in the mini-fridge,” he told me. Spencer smiled as he looked down at his plate, clearly proud of himself for the small gesture. It was small, admittedly, but it’s also one of the nicest things a man’s done for me. 

“Did you really go out and get me chocolate syrup because I mentioned it fleetingly?” I proposed. I licked the back of my spoon and handed Spencer a napkin from my lunch bag. 

“You like your coffee a very particular way,” Spencer said with a shrug, “I want to make you happy, Y/N. Even if it’s something small like making sure you’re never too cold or having coffee the way you like,” 

“Even if you explain the logistics of it, Spence. I’m still going to think it’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me,” I confessed. Spencer looked away pointedly; somehow he’s the one that got embarrassed about this whole thing. 

“Well you’re going to have to get used to it,” he replied. Spencer took a bite of the chicken, probably nearly burning his mouth of the molten sauce, “Because I’m gonna do it a lot,” he said with his mouth full, “Make you happy that is,” 

We never really talked about an ‘us’ before. For the last couple of weeks, Spencer and I’ve certainly acted like a couple. We continued our daily lunches from before that night in the bar, but began to hang out more outside of work. After the night when he finally slept in my bed, I went out and bought pajama pants and tee shirts for him. So he wouldn’t have to sleep in his clothes again. Just like Spencer wanted to make me happy, I wanted to make him happy too. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s really not sexy,” I said, nudging Spencer on the shoulder.

He rolled his eyes, some of the sauce rested on the corner of his mouth. “Pfft. You find me devilishly handsome, freakishly sexy, and deliciously…” 

“Annoying?” I interrupted, soaking up some of his curry on his plate. I smiled at Spencer’s hesitant glee. 

“Nope. You find me sexy. I’m a profiler. I can tell.” Spencer quipped. He smiled with a mixture of mirth and coyish charm. Our knees touched under the table. My knees were bare and he was covered in his long gray dress pants. I felt the friction start at my kneecap and it jolted straight toward my lower stomach. 

“Then why won’t you have sex with me.” I said. It came out more frustrated and rather angry than I intended. “I-I mean. It’s just….it’s been like a bunch of dates and my couch literally has an indent from you sleeping on it. And I mean, you clearly know that I’m attracted to you and I’m like pretty sure you’re attracted to me, but it’s just…” 

Spencer's fingers reached up to my chin and tilted it up so I would be forced to look at him in the eyes. His gaze practically melted my insides. It was like that friction I felt turned into something like magma. His eyes bore into me and threatened him back with a gaze of my own. 

“You’re very wrong if you doubt for a moment my attraction to you, honey. I just want you to know that’s not the thing I’m after. Sex with you is going to be amazing. But sex with you isn’t all that I want from you. It’s simply an added bonus.” 

This man will truly be the death of me. But at least that death will be at the hands of multiple orgasms and intellectual conversation. 

I choked as Spencer’s fingertips left my chin. He returned his hands to his lap and looked back at me. Our eyes met again and I offered him a soft smile. “You already make me happy, by the way. Happier than I’ve been in a very long time.” 

Spencer’s eyes shifted from my eyes to where our hands almost touched. The table was cool against my palm, which seemed to sweat at the very thought of being brushed up against Spencer’s hand. Neither of us dared to make a move, waiting in the thick silence for the other to break the spell laid before us. It’s tense, the space between us. His brown eyes, once blazing in the bar that night, were soft with concern and worry. I’m smart enough, albeit a little naive when it came to romance, that the look in Spencer’s eyes was enough to warn me of what was to come. 

“I’m glad.” Spencer admitted. His eyes wandered around the room before finally they landed on my eyes yet again. It was like we were two magnets, made up of opposing poles, unable to stay apart for too long. Somehow we always ended up colliding in an unbreakable way. And I couldn’t say I disliked those of being bound by the law of physics to Spencer. 

“I don’t want to beat around the bush anymore.” I ventured, setting down my fork to look at Spencer dead on. His eyes were the window to his soul and I, in that moment, read exactly what he was doing. “I really really really really like you Spencer. You’re so charming and handsome. And seem to actually like me? I don’t get that often. So when I do get it, it’s really something to me. What I’m trying to say,” I paused, eyes searching Spencer’s face for flashes of disagreement, “is that I’m ready?” 

“For?” Spencer teased playfully, knowing exactly what I wanted. He shifted in his seat, eyes shooting back and forth from my eyes to my lips. He was going to make me say it out loud. 

Again.

“You know what I mean.” I whispered, my voice hushed even though we were completely alone. Though know one was in the room I felt a wave of unease rush through me at the thought of this conversation getting out. Spencer’s hands gripped me and a pressure from my shoulders seemed to release at his touch. I thought that I should be worried about how affected I am by him. I was completely enamored in the way he talked, the way he carried himself, the way he held my hand and bought me my favorite books. 

“I think I do.” Spencer said, his eyes were like liquid sugar and they melted my resolve. They completely washed away anything that held me back. Looking at Spencer, with our knees touching, it was hard to think straight. I felt the fire build in me. It was like warm embers burning deep inside of me. It threatened to swallow me whole and I was tempted enough by Spencer’s fiery eyes to just give into it. 

So it goes, I thought. 

“I think you do,” I repeated. I slotted Spencer’s hand into mine and squeezed. My heart leapt when he squeezed back, a silent sign that we were on the same page. I’ve never been on the same page as someone before. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but sitting there with Spencer with my knees pressed against his and his eyes burning into my skin, I think that I’d like to feel it again. 

***

Spencer, as it turned out, was quite romantic. And, as it also turned out, I quite liked being on the receiving end of being romanced by him. It’s not to say I didn’t do my fair share of romantic gestures for him. There was a never ending supply of gently used books and homemade sweets made especially for Spencer nearly every time I saw him, which quickly became every day. I loved our lunches, but something told me I was going to love the entire weekend with Spencer alone even more. 

He rested his hand against my thigh as I drove up the winding Virginia country roads. Spencer, I learned, hated driving, but was an excellent co-pilot. In his spare time, he memorized maps so he would know exactly where he was. If I already didn’t find him incredibly endearing and adorable, I would have fallen head-over-heels for him right then and there. 

“It’s not much further.” Spencer said. He didn’t even look down at the map that rested on his lap. He gestured with one hand, showcasing his excitement. The other laid gently on my thigh. I could feel the warmth from his hand, yet when his palm touched my skin I felt goosebumps crop up.

“I always forget how beautiful it is up here,” I commented, turning on the blinker. 

“I think you’re trying to manipulate me into saying that you’re beautiful too,” Spencer teased. His eyes were dark in the lack of light, but I swore I saw the color I’ve been searching for in them.

“Why,” I asked, “is it working?” I offered him a toothy smile, unafraid of showing off my crooked teeth. It seemed so innocuous, smiling fully, smiling carelessly, but I couldn’t remember a time I did. 

“Of course it is.” Spencer said, blushing crimson as I chuckled. His thumbs brushed against my leg, reminding me of what was to come. I pulled into the driveway, the little cabin that Spencer found online even more charming in person than on the computer. 

“Jeez, I can’t believe you insisted on renting this cabin for our weekend. I would’ve totally been fine with us going Dutch at the crappy Sonic and boning in the back of your Volvo.” I joked, leaning over the console and kissing Spencer on the cheek. 

He reciprocated, moving his face towards mine so our lips slotted together. Spencer's hands cupped my head, keeping steady against him. We kissed plenty of times in between the nineteen lunch dates and the countless times he crashed on my couch. Sometimes those kisses were sweet, as if my lips could break if he placed too much pressure on them. And other times the kisses were fervent and rushed, as if he couldn’t bear to not be close to me. 

Yet this kiss found itself lying somewhere in between. 

“Could you please just enjoy me being nice to you.” Spencer said with exasperation. His sigh made me giggle against his lips. And he swallowed it with another kiss. “And though this cabin is fancy, the hot tub is entirely for my benefit.” 

“Oh please you say that like I don’t want to see you walk around with nothing on, Spencer Reid,” I scoffed, “You are aware that women are just as much of sexual creatures as men are.” 

I gleefully watched as Spencer’s cheeks tinged a bright pink and then his eyes narrowed into my face. He studied me like he was looking at me for the first time. His thumb brushed against my cheeks, my chin, my bottom lip, and then it gently rubbed against my cheekbone. 

“I am aware.” His hand had snaked down to my neck, bringing me closer and closer to his lips. “Very aware, Y/N.” 

*** 

I slipped my swimsuit over one of the towel bars, letting it dry overnight. Spencer came up behind me, his hands seeking the warmth underneath my sweatshirt. They felt big against my waist and his thumb dragged against my hip. It was the parts of myself that hardly saw daylight, that were never touched, never kissed or caressed. 

“I told you that the hot tub was worth it.” Spencer whispered in my ear. I turned around to face him. My back was pressed against the counter. I didn’t realize I craved domesticity with Spencer until seeing his bottle of aftershave and my tube of moisturizer coupled on the counter. It was that simple little detail that sent shockwaves of something I couldn’t quite pinpoint up my spine and out my fingertips. 

“I did enjoy it. It’s another reason why I got to convert you to the Kindle. You can read with the peace of knowing you’re not hurting your book if it gets wet.” 

Spencer grunted, as if using an eReader was an affront to humanity. “I would rather eat a book than to read it on an electronic device. Besides, we both know why you prefer your Kinder.” 

“Kindle,” I corrected, “And why do I prefer my Kindle?” I continued, staring at a fixed point as Spencer’s lips dipped below my earlobe, kissing a patch of skin that he found to be particularly sensitive. 

“The books you read on there aren’t the kind of books that you’d want people to know you’re reading.” He replied, continued to pepper kissing against my neck and I gripped his gray tee shirt for some sort of grounding. “But I could tell,” he whispered, nipping my neck, “what sort of book you were reading. You do this thing with your lips. You wet them, part them, and then you let out this little breath. It’s adorable. And those eyes of yours, Y/N. They dart around like you’re going to get caught. You hide it well, but not from me.” 

“Spencer,” I panted, my fingers clawing at his shirt, begging for him to take it off and toss me on the creaky bed, “Please. It’s been forever since we’ve…..”

I didn’t know what it’s been since or even what we were. All I know is that whatever it is could break my heart or bring me back to life. Spencer’s hands gathered the fabric of my sweatshirt at my waist. His forehead dipped against mine and I swore I heard him curse something that sounded like my name. 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Spencer asked, his voice husky with a potent mixture of want and need and desire, “This is your first time and I want to make sure you’re into this. You’re perfect and I want you to know that–” 

I cut him off with a kiss. Somehow, I jumped up so my butt rested on the counter and I braced my hands on either side of Spencer’s head as I crashed my lips against his. Instinctively, his hands creeped up to cradle my face, holding me like I was something precious, something sweet, something fragile. 

“I don’t break,” I choked out in between breaths and kisses, “So don’t be afraid to fuck me, Spencer.” I cursed, wrapping my legs around his waist as a way to tell him just how much I desired him. 

Spencer, finally, gave into me. He moved us from the cramped bathroom, holding up my weight as he entered the bedroom. I was tossed against the bed, ricocheting against the hard, springy mattress. He hovered over me, his eyes scanning my face, focusing on my eyes, my nose, my lips before kissing my forehead. It wasn’t the searing kiss against my lip I imagined it would be. It was sweet. Endearing even. 

He motions for me to sit up, taking the opportunity to remove my sweatshirt. Spencer kissed along the column of my neck, smirking against my skin at my responsive squeals and squirms. He used his other hand to take up home against my waist, fiddling with the waistband of my shorts. I watched as he glared at me in the living room when I came out wearing sleep shorts that could hardly be defined as shorts. Now, he traced the ruffle hem with a delicate attention that could only be defined as analytic.  

“Spence.” his name came tumbling from my lips before I could stop myself. It was halfway in between a plea and a prayer. His hands, long and lithe, gripped my thighs as he spread me apart, “Please hurry, Spencer.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I plan on taking my time with you. We’re going to figure out exactly what you like. And then some.” He said, sounding too much like a diabolical scientist for my liking. 

I licked my lips and then parted them and then let out a little breath. 

And then I felt my cheeks burn as Spencer’s knowing chuckle reached my ears. “I told you. You have a very obvious tell. I told you it was adorable.” He said in a hushed tone. “So fucking adorable.” 

“I would probably be even more adorable without my shorts on,” I quipped, grinning like I was pleased with myself. 

Spencer scoffed, running a hand up and down my leg until he reached the ruffled hem of my shorts. His fingers dipped underneath them, feeling my soft, untouched skin. “You mean this pathetic excuse for shorts? This tiny piece of fabric made with the premise of driving me fucking insane?” He cursed, his hand returned from underneath my shorts. This time he rested it against the waistband. “Where did you buy these?” He asked. 

“Target? I think? Like last summer. But there’s just sleep shorts. You can get them, like, anywhere.” He nodded, still staring at where his hand rested on my bare stomach. 

“So you’re not overly attached to this particular pair of shorts?” 

I shook my head, confusing coloring my face. But then I felt a ripping and noticed how Spencer’s face contorted with effort. In his hands he held scraps of fabric that used to be my shorts. 

“You did not just rip my shorts?!” I faux shouted, but it turned into laughter. “What was that, Spence?” I dragged him up by his shirt to yet again, kiss him. “My god, you’re such a dork.” 

“I thought you’d find it hot,” Spencer whispered sheepishly. His lips grazed across my lips, burning into my skin as he spoke. “But I’ll admit, it’s a bit out of character.” 

“Yes,” I nodded, still laughing, “It was hot, but out of character.” I knotted my fingers into his hair, brushing my lips against his face, searching for any bit of him to kiss. I felt him against my hip, the removal of the thin layer of shorts did little to hide his arousal from him, but it did make this feel all the more real. 

Spencer must have been able to read my mind, because his fingers bore into my waist and he ground down against me, sending that familiar friction down my lower belly and out through my toes. “Oh god, fuck.” I cursed, licking my lips as Spencer’s teeth nibbled against my collarbone. 

“More in character?” He teased, his tongue tracing against the dip in my neck. He smiled into it, unraveling me in one fell swoop. 

“Yes, yes,” I groaned, my hips thrusting upward to match his motions. “Are we…going to? Can we?” I panted into his mouth, so far gone that I could hardly care for the desperation that was laced in my voice. 

“Yes, Y/N.” Spencer cooed, his voice soft as he sank lower and lower down the bed. He stopped when his face was in line with my knees and kissed my rough kneecaps. “God, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to taste you. Can I? Can I taste you, Y/N?” 

“Yes, but I thought we were going to, you know…” I said, my voice trailing off with embarrassment. With Spencer I never felt as if I was this blundering late bloomer with a glaring V-card in her late twenties. But with that gorgeous man practically begging to eat me out, I felt completely lost. 

“We are.” Spencer clarified. “But penetrative sex sometimes isn’t enough for women to reach their climax. And considering this is your first time, I want you to be as relaxed as possible. So starting off with an orgasm, or two, usually helps with that.” 

Oh. 

“Cool.” I said, totally uncool. Spencer smiles, his fingers breaching apart my thighs as I give him the nod of approval. “You’re the expert on this I guess. I mean, at least before me. Not that you don’t know what you’re doing—” 

I stopped in my tracks when Spencer’s nimble fingers pulled down my underwear. His face is eye level with my center, that aches for his touch. He placed gentle kisses along the insides of my thighs. It’s like we’re a Rube Goldberg machine. His kisses, his nips, his wandering fingertips elicit a chain reaction of my drunken moans, my teeth biting my bottom lip, my hands grabbing fistfuls of bedding. Spencer’s agonizingly slow pace threatens to be the actual death of me. He teases me, his tongue darting closer and closer to my center. 

It has to be forever before he finally licks a straight line up my center. With careful trepidation tongue breaches my folds, unearthing a whole other universe of pleasure against my entire being. He pins my hips down, demanding my full attention and focus. 

“Was that alright?” Spencer asked, his breath shocking my core unnervingly. “Did you like that, sweetheart?” 

I knew by the tone of his voice that Spencer was teasing me. And I liked it. I knotted my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to my core. His tongue swirled around my clit and I squirmed against his face. I whined into my fist, attempting to stifle my whimpers. 

“Don’t you dare,” Spencer ordered, snaking a hand that clutched around my wrist and brought it to my side. “I brought you to the woods for a reason, Y/N. There’s no one around. You can be as loud as you need to be, sweet girl.” 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I whined, allowing the pleasure to envelope me in a warm embrace. “I feel so good, so good, Spence. Can-can you put a finger in? Please?” 

Spencer sneered at the question in my voice. Like there was a chance in hell that he’d deny my request. He slipped a finger into me and I instinctively tightened around him. Spencer’s voice shook with pleasure as he sung a string of swear words. 

“Take your bra off, sweetheart.” Spencer pleaded. “Touch your nipples for me. It’s an erogenous zone for women. Your pleasure will be intensified.” Scrambling to follow his instructions, I tossed my bra to the floor and watched a stunned Spencer stare at me. 

“Oh baby,” Spencer whispered, “You’re stunning. I could spend forever just staring at you.” He continued. “Do you like it when I have a finger buried inside this pretty pussy?” 

Spencer’s palm brushed against my clit as his finger pumped in and out. I couldn’t respond to his question, yet I believe that my pathetic, desperate moans answered sufficiently. He licked his lips, parted them, and then let out a little breath. I smiled. 

“You’re turned on.” I cooed, though it took all the strength in the world for me to string together the words to complete the sentence, “You did the thing.” 

“Yes, I’m turned on, Y/N. Jesus, is the sky blue. You’re just too beautiful for your own good. Look at you.” He brought his lips to my core again, his tongue entering me as his finger continued to draw out moan after whimper. 

“I think you like being full, baby.” Spencer assessed. “Would you like me to try another finger? Hmm? See how full you can be?” He asked, his eyes burned into my skin. It was like he was already replaying the memories of tonight in that amazing, brilliant brain of his. He watched me with a tenderness that I didn’t feel worthy enough to be viewed with. 

He slipped another finger into my center, filling me to the brim. I squirmed against his palm, the friction from the movement electrifying my clit as I whimpered into the crook of Spencer’s neck. He toyed with my nipples, alternating between quick, sharp touches and wet, soft kisses that drove me half insane and half drunk with need. 

“I–I think I’m close, Spencer.” I plead, as if I’m making a deal with the devil himself, when in reality I’m on the brink of Heaven being ushered over by my very own guardian angel. 

“I know you are, sweetheart. I can tell. Your heart rate is speeding up and you’re so tight around my fingers. I can feel you throbbing around me, baby. Just a little bit more. And you’ll come all over my face? Huh? For me. Get you nice and relaxed for my cock.” 

His crude words were a stark contrast to the gentle, yet firm way he coaxed her climax. Spencer’s steadfast way he guided her was evident through the bead of sweat that gathered against his brow. He studied her with deep concentration as she rode out her high. 

“That’s my girl.” Spencer praised. “That was so good, baby. How did that feel? We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to. It’s at your pace. Whatever you want, Y/N. At whatever speed you want.” 

God, if I hadn’t fallen in love with him already, I would’ve crashed from a skyscraper from that moment alone. 

“That was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.” I panted, dragging Spencer up to my lips for a kiss. I tasted my arousal on his lips, something that I never thought would be hot, but somehow with Spencer it was. He grinned with a self-satisfied smirk that told me he would want to do what he just did again and again till he either got bored of it or died doing it. “But I need you. Naked. Like yesterday.” 

Spencer chuckled. It vibrated through me. The sound of his laughter was enough to bring me back to life. I watched him, with my legs that felt like jelly, lift his gray cotton tee shirt and reveal his stomach and shoulders. It would take me several hands to count how many times I’ve hugged Spencer. He told me, in the beginning, that he was apprehensive of physical touch. But he, somehow, didn’t feel that way around me. I think it was because he felt safe with me. Whatever we shared, whether it was love or respect or a mutual sort of appreciation of each other, the one thing that ran constant was this sense of safety. Together, we lived without fear of judgment and ridicule. 

So when I saw Spencer without his shirt on for the first time, it wasn’t like I didn’t know what to expect. I could feel his body when I hugged him, when we laid on the couch together and he pretended to fall asleep so he could spend the night cramped on my small sofa for the sole purpose of being able to make me breakfast in the morning. I knew where his body was soft, where it was lean and lithe, where he felt so strong he could break me in two without really trying, where he felt gentle. 

Yet there was very little that could have prepared me for how Spencer looked without a shirt on. His hair was damp and I could smell my lavender soap that he stole. It clung to his neck and spread out in soft, brown waves. He wore gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. My eyes were directed to the slight V that formed and the trail of hair that most definitely led to somewhere I wanted to discover, to claim as my own, to plant my flag on…

“The way you’re staring at me,” Spencer started, “It’s very dangerous.” He said, his voice lower than usual as he watched me. My knees were clamped together as I rubbed my thighs, desperate for the slightest bit of friction. I decided that I no longer wanted to wait for either Spencer’s permission or his advice because it certainly seemed that he got off making wait and it was probably time to take matters in my own hands anyway. 

I crawled to the edge of the bed, pulling Spencer forward by the drawstring of his sweatpants. Kissing along his stomach, I listened gleefully as his bodily responses to my ministrations. With an encouraging hand, he gently rubbed his thumb over my bare shoulder blade as my fingers reached his waistband. 

“May I?” I asked, suddenly understanding why he found consent so sexy. I wanted to hear him beg for me. “May I take off your pants, Spencer?” I asked again, biting my lip in a ridiculously sexy way that would have been funny if either of us wasn’t so turned on to realize it. 

“Yes,” Spencer sputtered out, as if his tongue was getting in the way of his speech. He bit his lip as my fingers reached into his sweatpants to reveal that he decided to forego underwear. “Holy shit, Y/N.” 

“I–I don’t know what I’m doing with that.” I confessed, as Spencer’s sweatpants fell to the floor in a heap. “It’s a little intimidating.” 

Spencer’s hand brushed my hair out of my face, “It’s okay. I’m so turned on that I’m not even going to need much. But I’ll show you, honey.” He reached down to hold my hand against his and then brought it to his erection. “There,” he said, the strain in his voice apparent. “Just like that. You can move your hand back and forth. Or…ah, that. Yes, that.” 

I brushed my thumb over the head of Spencer’s erection, watching with a small bit of pride as his face twisted in pleasure. He, however, had enough strength to reconnect our lips. His hand crawled up the back of my head and pulled me towards him. I continued to drag my hand up and down his hardness as he moaned into my mouth. My name sounded like a cursed prayer or a sacred swear against his lips. 

“I’m not gonna last, sweetheart. Your hand is too much as it is. I don’t think I’ll take it any much longer.” He pleaded against the expanse of my throat. Spencer left a collection of hickies as he let out a string of curses while I scrambled for the condoms I packed.  

Finally, I found them. I said a silent prayer to whatever deity out there that was okay with premarital intercourse for providing me with the forethought of splurging for the 24 pack of condoms. I tossed Spencer one, watching as he tore it open and rolled it onto his leaking erection with precision. 

“I’m ready for this, Spencer. Believe me, but I’m still just nervous. I know it doesn’t really mean anything. But it’s just…it’s silly. I know. But–” 

He interrupted me, hushing my fears with a kiss. “I’m not going anywhere after this happens, Y/N. I want to see you like this, all splayed out for me, so sexy and needy. I want to see you with toothpaste stains on your ratty college tee shirts and ridiculously tiny sleep shorts. I want to see you at work and have to pretend that I don’t know that you have these freckles under your left knee that look like Orion. I like you a lot. So much that I’m more than half sure that I’m already fully in love with you.” 

His fingers selfishly dug into my skin, marking me as his with greed and desire. I danced my fingers around his torso. If I could kiss every inch of him, I would with ease. I would’ve worshiped him sooner, knowing what he was hiding underneath his gray suits and striped sweater vests. With the way his eyes lit up as he gazed at my face, my neck, my chest, and then lower and lower, I actually felt myself fall in love with him.

It was with the ease of a well oiled machine’s gears falling into place that I fell in love with him. It was with the simplicity, yet wonder of a sunrise that I fell in love with him. It was with the joy of listening to him ramble about some arbitrary scientific topic that I didn’t know the first thing about that I fell in love with. 

“You’re a wonder, Spencer Reid.” 

He tsked, the vibrations tickled my shoulder as he kissed me over and over. I hummed in response as my hands snaked around his waist, wanting him as close to me as possible. Spencer caressed my breasts, pulling a pebbled nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger. His lightly calloused fingertips provided a delicious friction that caused me to cry out in pleasure. My hands found their home in Spencer’s hair, tugging his lips closer to mine. Just kissing him brought me to a state of pure bliss, I wasn’t entirely sure how I would handle what was to come. 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Spencer asked, desiring my consent yet again. “You don’t have to do this just to please me. I’m entirely happy to have just done what we’ve done. I have a suspicion that eating you out is my favorite part.” 

I laughed with my head thrown back. It exposed my neck and Spencer took the opportunity to kiss and nibble along a rather sensitive patch of skin. I giggled and Spencer smiled, clearly pleased by my happiness in the situation. 

“I mean we could just do that again.” He offered with a shrug. I kissed him, bringing his head even with mine as I pulled both of us flush against the mattress. 

“I’m ready, Spencer.” I panted, wrapping my legs around his waist and rutting against him. I cried out at the friction, my will and resolve hanging on by a thread. He leaned down to whisper into my ear as he held himself steadily above me. 

“You’re ready?” 

“I’m ready. Don’t make me beg. It’s not cute, Spencer.” I puffed with a touch of annoyance, which Spencer found rather hilarious. 

“On the contrary,” Spencer observed, his eyes scanning my naked form, “I think you’re adorable when you beg. But if we’re being honest, I think I’m the one that’s desperate for you. For this. For us to be something.” 

“Fine. It’s cute when you do it.” I commented, brushing my fingers through Spencer’s hair as he smiled at me. “So you’re going to show me how to do this, right? Because I’m kind of lost by now.” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Spencer said, his hands slipping down to my thighs and cupping underneath my knees. He spread me apart, kissing the soft skin of my inner thighs with an intense concentration. “I got you.” 

I gulped and licked my lips as Spencer breathed against my torso. “Why are you the one that seems nervous?” I asked, half joking, half serious. 

“You’re just too gorgeous for me. There’s so many things I want to do with you. But just looking at you is enough to drive me insane. You’re perfect. The most beautiful, funny, kind, wonderful, exciting girl I know. And you’re letting me….do this with you. Fuck, it almost makes me want to believe in miracles.” 

Spencer, lost in his passionate ramble, nearly lost it when I rutted my hips against him. I decided he needed me to show him my desire for him, rather than continue to talk about it, as he was hellbent on showing me. He whispered praises for me, for my body, for my mind and our future as he kissed along my lower belly. 

I nodded, the pressure that built in my belly was almost too much for me to bear. I cried out as I felt Spencer’s thumb rub tight, close circles around my clit. He positioned the head of cock against my core, teasing me as I whimpered against his shoulder. 

“Fuck…how doesn’t this already feel so good.” Spencer cursed, holding himself above me. He wrapped my leg around his hip as if the motion could lock us together perfectly. “I’m going to let you get adjusted. Remember, anytime you need me to stop just tell me.” 

“God, I’ll strangle you if you stop.” I panted, closing my eyes as Spencer’s cock inched deeper and deeper inside of me. I dug my hands into his shoulder, sure that I would leave bruises against his freckle speckled skin. 

“Kinky. I didn’t think you would’ve had it in you. Then again. I’ve seen your Kindle history.” He teased, his hand gripped my leg as he tightened his hold on me. 

“Enough about the lumberjack.” I panted with exasperation, much to Spencer’s enjoyment. He giggled against my collarbone as I concentrated on my breathing. I felt him fill me up, until he was fully buried inside of me. His talented, thin fingers continued to wreak havoc on my nerves. 

“I doubt he could make you feel this good, baby.” Spencer cooed, lifting my leg to increase the depth of how far he was buried inside of me. He opened his mouth in pleasure, desperate himself for the sacred bodily contact that existed between the pair of us. I yelped, the pressure that boiled in my lower belly burned with a fiery passion that was unfamiliar. 

“God, no. Fuck no.” I cursed, capturing Spencer’s lips in a toothy kiss. I felt the creases of his bottom lip against my tongue as I bit down. Spencer thrusted in and out of me, my folds dripping with heady pleasure. His thumb and index finger flicked and rubbed against my swollen clit as my cries cascaded around the room. 

His one hand remained at my leg, hoisting me up closer and closer to where our bodies met as one. He gripped my flesh with greed, as if he already knew I belonged to him, body and soul. Spencer’s nimble fingers speed up his ministrations against my clit as I clenched around his cock. He smiled, kissing me as he praised me for taking him so damn well. 

“That’s it. Fuck you’re so pretty with my cock buried inside of you, darling.” He sputtered, his one climax approaching as he edged me to the brink of pleasure only to rip the carpet out from underneath my feet. “You’re adorable if you think I’m going to let you go this easily. We’ve got the whole weekend for soft and sweet, Y/N. But right now, I want you to come around my cock so hard you see white. Can’t you do that for me, babe? Come for me.” 

His tongue traced my bottom lip, tasting me as he chanted my name over and over. His voice was husky with desire and I could smell my lavender shampoo as his hair tickled my nose and chin. 

Virginity is made up. It isn’t anything, really. And it went against every moral fiber of being to admit it, but as Spencer’s fingers worked against me and how his hips thrusted against my pelvic bone I knew that I belonged to him.

Yet it would make me a fool to not admit that he didn’t belong to me in the same way. I wrapped my leg tighter around his bottom, forcing our lower halves closer as we teetered oh so close to the edge. I felt hazy, as the lavender shampoo wafted over me, I begged to stay in it with Spencer. The lavender, the haze, the sound of his stifled moans as I clenched around him in a wanton desperation was all too much, yet it beckoned me forward.

“Come for me, Y/N.” Spencer urged, “Just like before, just like you do when it’s your fingers buried inside this pussy, wishing it was my cock.”  He mumbled the encouragement across my sweat-stained skin as I approached my climax. I felt my second orgasm approach as Spencer rested his forehead against mine, kissing my nose as his hip movements continued. I clutched his face, desperate for more kisses, for more skin touching skin, for more Spencer. 

“Spencer.” I panted, my orgasm causing my muscles to contract and release around Spencer’s pulsing erection. I felt him swallow a moan as he laced his fingers together with mine and kissed my knuckles. 

“Fuck.” 

He cursed. His lips dipped the hollow part of my throat. Spencer’s hips gave one, then two, and then three more sloppy thrusts as his cocked leaked into the condom. I felt a warmth that I had never felt before spread from my lower belly. A flush followed as Spencer’s fingertips traced against my breasts, causing my nipples to stand alert and pebbled. 

“That was perfect.” I whispered. I kissed Spencer’s shoulder and clung to him in the haze that settled between us. “It was different than I expected. I guess when you’ve waited so long you build it up in your head. But then I waited even longer after that. So, it was better than I ever could’ve imagined. So thank you.” I flushed, my cheeks ablaze under Spencer’s intelligent gaze. 

He continued to rub my nipple in between his index finger and thumb. I gave him the side eye, as if my single glance could read what he was thinking.

“Did you know that it’s possible for some women to have orgasms from nipple stimulation alone?” 

“We have the entire weekend, you know? Besides, I’d feel bad. You only came once and I had like two and a half.” 

“Pfft,” Spencer scoffed, “Who’s counting. Besides, I would much rather watch you come on my face or come from me playing with your nipples than me coming any day.”  

I rolled my eyes and kissed Spencer on the forehead. “You’re an anomaly, you know that, babe? Why not after we eat? I’m starving. Sex makes me hungry I guess.”

I hissed as Spencer pulled out. It took a second to get adjusted to the sensation of him not being deep inside of me. But there was something that told me I wouldn’t have to wait very long. 

“Studies show that we burn calories during sexual intercourse. A twenty-four minute session is said to have males burn 101 calories, while females burn 69 calories. And given that our session lasted quite a bit longer than twenty-four minutes, it’s safe to suggest that you’ve burned enough calories that it necessitates energy consumption in the form of food,” Spencer rambled, “Which makes me remember. You need to use the bathroom. UTIs and all.” He shuddered. 

“Yes, Doctor.” I giggled as I slid past him on the bed. His hand, big against my upper arm, clawed at my skin. “After the snack can we try something where you just wear jeans and suspenders? I mean you did bring me into the middle of the woods. We’re literally surrounded by nothing, but lumber. Why not put my wild imagination to good use?” 

—

Thank you for reading! Remember that liking, commenting, and reblogging helps writers to keep inspired and appreciated. I love hearing feed back from you!

Tag List (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged)

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @foxy-eva @radiant-reid @reid-ingandweeping @smurphyse @reidsaurora

[bellamer]

Tim: Nesquik is the undisputed GOAT when it comes to chocolate milk.

Duke: I like the Hershey’s syrup better. If you take it out the fridge a little bit beforehand it dissolves into your milk better.

Damian: I’m gonna say it. Strawberry milk is better than chocolate milk.

Dick, holding up a container of ovaltine: When did they change the Ovaltine container ?

Cassandra: Troo Moo doesn’t get enough credit and if you haven’t had it you’re missing out.

Jason, loudly sipping his sixth box of yoo-hoo: They have to make these yoo-hoo boxes bigger.

Duke: Jason, you do know that there’s like zero milk in yoo-hoo, right ?

Jason: When I was in high school, there was this teacher that used to walk around the halls every day with a glass of strawberry milk. That is the level of “I dont care” that I hope to achieve in life.

[let-me-luve-you]

Hershey Kisses

Christian Pulisic x Reader

Summary: Christian helps make a bad day better on date night.

Warnings: implied smut

Word Count: 573

MASTERLIST

CHRISTIAN PULISIC MASTER LIST

BUY ME A COFFEE

Today was not your day. Oversleeping and missing your train made you late for work. Your boss was not happy with you and then yelled at you after you accidentally typed data wrong on a project. Staying late to fix your mistake and to make up for the 20 minutes you were late put you going home after dark. You didn’t like walking to the train at night. It gave you the creeps.

Luckily, you made it home with no problems. Walking into the house, you could smell Chinese food from your favorite restaurant. Turning into the kitchen, you were met with a great sight. Your shirtless boyfriend, whose gray sweats were hanging low on his hips. When he turned around, Christian smirked when he noticed your eyes were further south on his body. You knew he wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

“How was your day babe?” Christian asked with a smirk as you jumped at his voice. 

“Could’ve been better. I’m just glad the work day is over and you're here.” You replied walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He was quick to reciprocate.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” He kissed the top of your head. “I ordered Chinese. I figured we could stay in and watch movies for date night since I’m about to be gone for a week.” 

“I love that.” You laid your chin on his chest looking up at him. He smiled down at you. “I’m glad I get to come home to you.”

“I’m glad I get to come home to you. Especially after being gone for so long.”

Pulling away, you grabbed plates and forks and started plating your dinner. Christian pulled out cups and filled his with water and yours with your favorite flavored tea. Smiling, you picked up the plates and took them to the living room. You saw that Christian had turned the couch into bed mode with pillows and blankets laid across. You sat the plates on the side table next to the drinks Christian had sat down and turned to get snuggled up on the couch. 

Christian walked out of the room and then came right back with something hidden behind his back. 

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled. “I was going to give this to you when I left, but I think you need this tonight.” He pulled a basket out from behind his back. It was filled with Hershey goodies. Inside was a variety of chocolates. 

“Christian,” You smiled and sat up on your knees as Christian sat the basket in front of you before sitting next to you. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. I love you.” Christian pulled you into a kiss. What started as soft and slow quickly turned into quick and needy. He quickly pulled away. “Let’s eat first so the food is not cold. Then I promise to take care of you all night and make you forget you even had a bad day.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll eat this wonderful dinner you bought and then snack on this Hershey basket for dessert.” You said sarcastically. You looked back at the basket, “Oooh. Maybe we can try something new tonight with this chocolate syrup.” 

You raised your eyebrows up and down at your boyfriend suggestively. Christian laughed but looked at you with hunger in his eyes. You both knew once dinner was over, you would not be watching a movie.

[ill-go-with-that-then]

Can I interest you in an AU where Aizawa tries to woo Mic with horrible pickup lines from the internet, because he has no idea how else to do it? And mic thinks aizawa figured out his crush and is teasing him? Imagine he has a list of them and every so often he’ll bust one out like Is there an airport nearby, or was that my heart taking off? Completely deadpan.

Mic kinda half-laughs sometimes but once in a while he shoots one back in an attempt to defend himself. Aizawa considers this progress

Eventually Kayama pulls him aside like as hilarious as it is to watch you roast him, I think you’re starting to hurt his feelings.

Aizawa:

Like he thought they were really getting somewhere and Mic is just weathering the storm.

Aizawa has to try something else, since the pickup lines didn’t work. So he goes to the card store and gets the biggest, cheesiest I LOVE YOU bear in the whole place. The cashier asks him if he would like to add an audio message to the bear, and he says he would. Now the bear says “I love you beary much” in aizawa’s expressionless voice whenever you squeeze it.

Hizashi sleeps with it every night, even though he’s still not sure if Aizawa is making fun of him. but he took the bear so aizawa thinks he’s batting a thousand. Hizashi is a lot of work to win over but aizawa is used to working hard. It’s worth it. Especially when he ends up in Mic’s room for something or other and sees the bear on the bed - he’s in cloud freaking 9 because!! Success!! Meanwhile Mic is dying of mortification and praying for a villain with a murder quirk to show up and put him out of his misery. Aizawa thinks they’re dating now. The bear has been accepted.

Now aizawa has to google “how to be a good boyfriend.”

So Hizashi starts walking into the apartment after a long day of radio stuff and patrols to find Aizawa is just... standing in the dark doorway. Waiting. “Tell me about your day” he demands, in the same tone he uses to interrogate criminals as Mic shrieks and drops all his stuff. He can’t figure out what it is Shouta thinks he did, and if he did do it, and there’s... something on the table. It looks like it was food once, before the war.

“I made dinner” says Aizawa, from behind him. The kitchen is not actively on fire but all the windows are open and a suspicious smokiness lingers. It’s the middle of winter. There is snow in the apartment.

“That was... so thoughtful of you...” Mic says, putting his jacket back on.

Aizawa nods. Date night is a success. Another flawless victory, thanks to the internet. He had tried to cook along with a YouTube video but didn’t understand some parts were cut out, to save time. Hizashi eats it anyway. This is what love is.

Aizawa had planned for them to watch a movie after dinner but it takes six hours to clean the kitchen. Most of the pots are unsalvageable. He wanted to make chocolate covered strawberries, but they were out of season. So dessert is one of those cans of mandarin orange slices with Hershey’s syrup poured into it. Then Aizawa tried to light it on fire, for fanciness. It didn’t burn.

It’s still freezing cold in the apartment at bedtime, so Mic offers to share his bed so they can keep warm. “Is that moving too fast?” Aizawa asks. He really wants to, but Hizashi has been so slow to win over, he doesn’t want to blow it by rushing.

Hizashi thinks he’s making fun of him again. “I’m not going to jump you in your sleep Shouta,” he grumbles, and aizawa nods. So it’s like that then. He makes sure to keep six inches between them, as a buffer. The perfect end to the perfect date. He’s amazing at this.

Aizawa also sets phone alarms, so he remembers to do things like Text Hizashi To Ask About His Day. Hizashi has to get used to his 3pm "what are you doing" text from aizawa. There are no follow up questions.

One of the things on the list of good boyfriend things to do was "compliment your partner!" so Aizawa made a list of compliments to use and he texts mic one per day.

"You keep the bathroom very neat"

"You always remember the name of the takeout place"

"You're very punctual"

Hizashi, sobbing: I don't understand what's happening

The best part is that Hizashi already does all the good boyfriend things, so Aizawa thinks this relationship is going great!! He's a very lucky man.

Eventually, Mic just gets pushed too far. Aizawa's daily 5pm compliment text was "you look handsome today" and Hizashi just fucking snaps. He leaves work early and rushes home. Aizawa is in the kitchen trying to figure out how to cook a stir fry. After they finish with the fire extinguisher, Mic throws it aside and says "I can't take it anymore" and full on dips Aizawa into a kiss.

"Finally," they both say afterwards. They think they mean the same thing, but they do not.

[duskkodesh]

I've had rats for years at this point now and finally want to put down the best tips I've learned. This won't work for everyone, some are very conditional to me, but maybe some of these will help someone. Fleece hammocks: Boo. Microplastics and too warming. Canvas hammocks: Yes, please. Highly washable. Far more tough. I wish they were easier to find. Coiled rope baskets are also a godsend. I hang them by the handles in the cage, they love them way more than anything marketed to rats. Bottles are nice but some rats wanna splash and have a place to wash their little hands. Fresh in pod peas are by the pound at my supermarket. I usually spend 70 cents on the amount for several treat sessions. All my frozen peas end up getting freezer burnt by the time I get halfway through the bag. Antibiotics will be needed if you keep rats. Do not give antibiotics with dairy, many classes of antibiotics bond to calcium thereby making them far less effective. Speaking of, antibiotics seem to have the hardest taste to cover up. Ground meat baby food, Hershey simply five syrup (Just a little), peanut powder (No added sugar, oils), fruit compote/jam/jelly, small absorbent bread snacks/cereal, smushed pasta, cream of wheat, are all options to get meds into rats. You can call exotic vets and ask for an estimate on a basic rat exam. Do it, the prices vary WILDLY. We had a vet who charged us 35$ to see three rats at once and one who quoted us 200$ to look at one. You're gonna notice a trend if you call vets in higher class/rich areas. Fuck em'. Also ask your vet if you can keep a supply of meds on hand just in case. If they last at room temp you can buy some preemptively. Things like doxycycline you can get from human pharmacies.

Zip ties are god. All hail zip ties. Same with swivel clasps. Between them both you can cage mount anything your heart desires.

Leave bedding in a hot car or freezing conditions for a night. Warehouses get mites. Mites are a dick to deal with. Kill em' all.

Give them a variety of fresh things while they're young. Not always but sometimes I'd get an older gent rescue who had no idea what to do with berries or tomatoes and would refuse them. They learn better what is safe when young. At some point you will have an emergency. Make sure you know where an emergency vet is and that they keep night/weekend hours. Keep funds on hand for that day.

Rats hide pain well. When they age you may need to start pain management if you notice them moving differently even if they don't show their pain blatantly. Just start with low doses and see if they act like their old selves again. Research your breeders. Get recommendations from other rat people. Check and see if there are rat rescues in your area. Also the Humane Society sometimes takes in rodents.

Controversial take: You will encounter people in ratkeeping who say buying feeders is a sin. It's not. Feeder supply will exist whether or not every rat fancier boycotts them. We are far far fewer in number than snake/lizard people. Wherever you got your rats it's valid so long as you give them healthcare, good nutritious food, love, and mental stimulation. A lot of the 'foods to avoid, foods to include' lists are not researched. I've seen lists that ban chocolate. Rats freaking love chocolate they just need to take it easy on fats and sugars but cocoa powder can be a good mix in and can help ratty blood flow. I've seen people ban mango. if you read the study that led to this they gave rats an obscene amount of D-limonene to trigger cancer and small amounts had no side effects at all. Read the studies, look for sources.

[mellomak22-blog]

Can you do a pre-wednesday Tyler, like right after he comes back from boot camp, and the reader goes to the coffee shop and he's working there, and the reader doesn't realize he's back and she's always had a bit of a crush on him but is still weary of him because of the incident that happened with Xavier.

The show Wednesday! Okay, I can do that. Here's a cute and awkward first interaction with Tyler Galpin ever since he returned from boot camp. Here goes :)

Desc: awkward fluff, feminine presenting reader. Use of she/her

Warnings: none

Ding ding! The tiny little bell on the counter rang through Tyler’s ears. Normally, the Weathervane never got busy. They got a few of their regulars each day, and during autumn, it got a little crowded. But it was never this busy.

“Tyler, get that!” His father shouted from the break room, sitting in a chair with a newspaper in hand. Tyler was in the back, making practice of his latte art. The clover he just tried to do getting messed up, adding to his frustration. A long sigh draws from his lips. Sheriff Galpin was a hardass. He was especially hard on his son when he didn’t live up to the expectations Donovan wanted him to meet. Acting like a total dick in school was just the icing on the cake. His dad sent him to boot camp, with the hopes of his son returning “a better man” who’d get himself a job (Apparently being a barista boy would do that).

It was only Tyler’s second day working at the Weathervane cafe, and he wasn’t thrilled having to work on such a busy day when normally all he could do was make a cup of coffee from a Keurig machine.

Y/N sighs. When am I going to get a coffee? She slams her palm on the bell, ringing it rapidly. Dingdingdingdingdingdi-

“Coming!” Queue Tyler Galpin. He flashes a polite smile and pushes his annoyance down into his throat. “Sorry about the wait! What can I get you?” He leans in, folding his arms on the counter and looking joyfully at his customer. Y/N gulps, and it feels like all the eyes are on her. Tyler wasn’t supposed to be here, she was supposed to ring the bell and her best friend was supposed to drag herself out and her mood would change and they’d bounce up and down together and-

“Hello? Miss?” He chuckles nervously when y/n breaks free from her thoughts and meets his gaze of green eyes. “Oh, sorry. I was just- I was trying to remember everything I needed to order!” She skillfully lied. “But um… is Lilli here?” Her gaze scans the area, trying to find something else to focus on to take away from this god awful experience. “Nope, she’s taking a day off today. It’s just me.” He forces a smile. “Oh, okay. My bad. Can I get an iced mocha latte with 2 pumps of chocolate syrup in it?”

Tyler blinks and there’s a beat of silence as he grabs something. He lifts up a bottle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup. “...This?” Not something he had seen often, but it could be done. Y/N looks like she wants to curl into a ball. “Oh! Haha geez I meant vanilla syrup. Like the flavoring!” She scrambles the last of her words out, wanting to smack herself upside the head. “Oh. Alrighty. And what size…did you want that?” Doing his best, he smiles again, softer this time, in hopes of alleviating the pain this was. She gave a helpless looking grin back. Could it get any worse? “Large is fine. That’s it.”

He turns around, getting to work on her drink. Oh god. Are you fucking kidding me? What was that shit? Y/N went to school with Tyler and they had shared a few classes. He sat behind her in math class, where she daydreamed about him just reaching forward and playing with her hair, and he sat next to her in history. They had english together too, but he was across the room. Seeing him here after having disappeared for a while caught her off guard and it threw her out of her rhythm at the Weathervane. 

His agitation gradually went away as he got to work on the drink, and soon enough it was done. “Hereee ya go.” He presses a few buttons on the screen at the register. “It’s $7.01.” Tyler offers a plain smile. Y/N fights off making a face. Geez. Lilli must’ve usually given me a discount every time. Damn. She braves a brief grin and pays for the drink. With a quick thanks, she scurries off and out the door. The bells on the door jingling again as she leaves. 

“Are you kidding me?! You took a personal day?!” Y/N scolds her friend. A muffled response comes from Lilli over the phone as y/n sips her latte. She fires back. “Well, no. Oh but you DID kinda forget to mention that Tyler was back in town and that you  w o r k  with him! When were you gonna tell me that?” Y/N stomps away, heading to her next designation. Tyler is back to practicing his latte art.

[prolix-yuy]

listen, LJ

you are so correct for this. most chocolate ice cream is just...not good

i feel seen

no one tell the chocolate ice cream enthusiasts 🤐

THANK YOU

I don’t know if it’s just the way chocolate flavor is put into ice cream but it always tastes like cheap Hershey syrup to me. I’ve had maybe two good ones ever (and I think both were like, additions to a bigger dessert, not something I’ve eaten on its own).

[memorymessage]

back when my metabolism wasn't in shambles, when i was like 16 or smth, i had a phase where i would drink a gigantic water bottle full of chocolate milk before bed

best sleep ever. best sweet treat ever. never gained weight. if i did that now, i would become water balloon shaped within 2 weeks

BUT I DESIRE IT SO

before bed is the best time to have a chocolate milk sweet treat!

milk (2%)! and chocolate syrup (hershey)!

grocery store chocolate milk is too thick, and powder choco milk taste weird. only like either of those on occasion

syrup

choco

milk

(in big fuck off water bottle!)

[dessertgeek]

White chocolate has flavor and deserves better.

Because the big reason many think of white chocolate mainly as 'white waxy stuff that ideally happens to other people,' especially in the US, is because the mainstream chocolate industry has essentially lied to us about what white chocolate is. For years.

Like okay, most likely in the US if you've had white chocolate on its own, you're thinking of a Hershey Cookies 'n' Creme bar.

I wrote 'creme' there, not 'cream' - that's not a typo, that's the real name. Because it contains no cocoa butter. As in, here are the ingredients:

Sugar

Vegetable Oil (Palm Oil, Shea Oil, Sunflower Oil, Palm Kernel Oil, Safflower Oil)

Skim Milk

Corn Syrup Solids

Enriched Wheat Flour (Flour, Niacin, Ferrous Sulfate, Thiamin Mononitrate, Riboflavin, Folic Acid)

Lactose

Contains 2% or Less of:

Cocoa Processed With Alkali

Whey

Lecithin

High Fructose Corn Syrup

Chocolate

Baking Soda

Salt

Natural Flavor

Artificial Flavor

PGPR

It can't even legally call itself white chocolate. It's a creme bar, or a 'white' bar, but not a white chocolate bar.

And it's not just Hershey. If you look around the fine print in grocery stores you'll see a lot of 'white' or 'creme' or 'candy' products, but not much in the way of 'white chocolate.'

In contrast, here are the ingredients for a bean to bar white chocolate bar, Pump Street 44% Hacienda Limon: cocoa butter, cane sugar, milk powder. And that 44% means it's 44% cocoa butter.

What's even more offensive is that cocoa butter, like the cocoa beans it's pressed from, has flavor. Sure it's mainly creamy, but it's like how quality butter from happy grass fed cows has more depth of flavor compared to the cheaper stuff. Which is why brands like Pump Street make single origin cocoa butters, because they can show off that flavor.

So yeah, if you can try bean to bar or craft white chocolate, please do? You might be pleasantly surprised.

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

hello darlin ;)! 1, 31, 41, 46

Oooh Hi you asked so many darlin 🤩

Once again you can find the questions here

1. Who is/are your comfort characters?

Dr. Doofenshmirtz always but also if I had to say a Hannibal or Hannibal Extended Universe character because this is a Hannibal-centric blog, I'd pick Duncan Vizla.

31. What kind of music keeps you grounded?

When I'm feeling overwhelmed I like to drown out the world with rock music. My bands of choice for grounding are letdown., Citizen Soldier, and Falling In Reverse.

41. How do you take your coffee?

I drink my coffee cold and I'll take it a couple different ways. I like Starbucks frappuccinos (my favorite is the Caramel Ribbon Crunch, unless it's time for the winter holidays, then my favorite is the Chestnut Praline) and I'll get iced lattes from Dunkin Donuts with a shot of french vanilla. It depends on what's open on campus. At home, we brew cold brew coffee and keep it in the fridge and I'll throw some in a mason jar with milk, Hershey's syrup, and chocolate pudding mix and shake it up.

46. Favorite Holiday Film?

It's hard to pick an absolute favorite, but (assuming we're talking about winter holidays), I always find myself coming back to the Santa Clause trilogy with Tim Allen every December. My favorite movie in the trilogy is the third one.

[densi-mber]

Buñuelos and Whirligigs

Deeks came home one Saturday afternoon mid-December to the smell of something sweet and slightly greasy filling in the air. He followed the scent to the kitchen where he found Kensi and Rosa tending a large pot on top of the stove.

“Hey Ladies, what are you making?” he greeted them, looking around the kitchen. The were several dishes spread around and a paper towel covered plate.

“Hey, baby.” Kensi looked up with a smile, lifting a frying strainer from the pot.

“Hi Marty,” Rosa said, gesturing to the pot. “We’re making Buñuelos. They’re a little bit like donuts and very popular in Guatemala for many holidays, including Christmas.”

“You started the Christmas baking without me? Traitors.” Coming to stand beside them, he kissed Kensi’s cheek and squeezed Rosa’s shoulder.

“Sorry.” Kensi gave him an apologetic grimace. “I just wanted to practice a little before you came home. Besides, it’s frying, not baking.”

“We talked about making traditional fruit cake, but that was never my favorite. We barely ever had it when I was growing up,” Rosa added.

“I bet it would be a million times better than any other fruitcake I’ve had before,” Deeks said, reaching over to lift up the corner the paper towel concealing the Buñuelos. “But I can definitely get behind anything that resembles a donut. So, do I get a taste?”

“Uh, you might want to wait for the next batch,” Kensi advised. “We got a little distracted with the first ones so they’re just a tiny bit…crunchy.”

“And you have to eat them with syrup,” Rosa said, dipping her strainer into this pot and coming up with a golden brown ball of dough. After that, she and Kensi quickly removed the rest of the Buñuelos before they burnt. Once they were resting on a fresh layer of paper towel, Rosa grabbed a pitcher of warmed syrup and a bowl of cinnamon sugar.

Together, they munched on the dessert, sprinkling sugar and dots of syrup along the counter. For once, Deeks didn’t care about the mess. It was well worth it for Rosa and Kensi’s obvious delight.

“So what do you and Kensi usually make?” Rosa asked once they slowed down a bit. “I’ve made sugar cookies, and the peanut butter blossoms, but I had to improvise since we couldn’t find any Hershey kisses.

“It changes every year,” Kensi answered. “This time we were thinking of trying what Roberta calls whirligig cookies.”

“They’re not for the faint of heart,” Deeks whispered to Rosa.

“Sounds like fun. I like a change.”

“Awesome.” Kensi handed Rosa a large bag of chocolate chips and a jar of peanut butter. “Then you can roll them this year.”

***

A/N: I always like to insert a little family history into my stories, and in this case, it’s whirligig cookies again. As grandma always said, when you make them don’t answer the phone.

[tony-the-tigers-juicy-armpit]

I had some chocolate milk, feeling good :3 but I need better chocolate mix. The hershey stuff has high fructose corn syrup and I avoid that garbo

[ontheveldt]

hey, i hope you're having a nice day~ I am re-reading your bsd fics and i looove them.... here's a q if you're feeling up for it for fun! If soukoku was a chocolate flavour, what flavour(s) would you assign it? (if more than one!)

have you ever had pomegranate molasses?

most people haven't, if you're not from a culture that uses it regularly. it's okay, it's easy to make.

take pomegranate juice. no, more than that. a liter, or maybe half a gallon, depending on how much you want in the end. it will be expensive. pomegranate juice is the type of red that looks black when contained in a bottle or pan, but take some in a spoon or dip your finger in, and it is the vibrant red of arterial spray. your fingers will stay red for days.

boil the juice. it will look like boiling blood. add a pinch of salt, and squeeze a lemon over it - halfheartedly, mind you, you want just a spoonful or so. some people add sugar - half a cup per 4 cups of juice, some don't. I don't. there are enough sweet things in the world.

as soon as it boils, lower the flame so it simmers. simmer it until it screams, until it's a quarter the volume of whatever you started with. dip a spoon in - you should be able to draw a line through the syrup on the back of it.

it's now a rich, deep reddish-brown color. the color of blood after it's dried, where it's trying to scab over and keep the rest sealed into the wound. it will be tart, so tart it dries your mouth out if you swallow too much of it. if balsamic vinegar and cranberries and grapes dipped in lemon juice had an orgy, pomegranate molasses is what's left on the sheets at the end of it.

take chocolate, something good. not too dark, it will be overwhelming - here is where you need that sweetness. spread a thin layer of the pomegranate molasses on top of the chocolate. a sweet-tart scab, the the color of what's hidden under bandages, of Corruption twisting around pale skin.

this is the taste of soukoku.

(a local chocolatier used to make pomegranate molasses truffles and I would give a limb to be able to replicate them)

-

odazai is simpler, but not easier.

odazai is the hot cocoa your mother made when you were little. when she had time, before her job took her away from thinking of winter as fun. you would come in from outside, cheeks red and hair frosted with snow, and there would be a steaming pot on the stove.

(for each serving, take one large spoonful of unsweetened cocoa powder from the old yellow Hershey's tin that belonged to your grandmother. every spoonful of cocoa gets double that amount of sugar. a pinch of salt, a dash of vanilla. add more or less of it all until it tastes like childhood)

pour it into a mug, something big and insulated enough to not burn your hands but still warm them up from the snow. take a sip to taste, then use it to down your pills.

let them kick in. let the memories of the bar kitchen fade, until it's just you alone in your apartment. the hot cocoa isn't quite as flavorful as you remember it being, when you were young and everything was golden-hued and perfect. you still make it sometimes, just to remember.

it's still rich creamy chocolate on your tongue, burning your throat as you drink it too fast so it warms you from the inside out. there's a slight chalky aftertaste from the tablets but it goes away as you take another sip in your empty, empty home and you relax into the memories again.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

060 of 2024

The Brown Survey 🤎

by joybucket

1. List three random things you like that are brown. My older cat's nose, noses of tabby cats in general, gingerbread.

2. What is your favorite shade of brown? Whatever the tabby cat's nose is.

3. What is your least favorite shade of brown? All the rest. I'm not a big fan of brown.

4. Do you have brown hair? Yes, I do. It's dark brown by nature.

5. Do you have brown eyes? No, I don't. They're grey.

7. What are your favorite fillings for chocolates? For that, I prefer Polish and French chocolate because it has a variety of filling, my favourite is yogurt. Belgium typically has mostly hazelnut, which I'm allergic to.

9. Would you rather drink a chai latte, coffee, or chocolate milk? Chocolate milk. Very popular in my country.

10. List three random things you can see from where you're sitting right now that are brown. The couch, the cabinet, and chocolate-covered raspberry cookies.

11. Have you ever had an all-brown dog or cat? Dog yes (but he was more beige, I think), cat no.

12. What was the last thing you ate that was brown? Chocolate pudding.

14. Which of these names do you like best for a chocolate lab: Cocoa, Brownie, Hershey, Chocolate, or Cookie? Do you mean that dog breed? Cookie sounds cute <3 Brownie is not bad either.

16. List three random things you dislike that are brown. Poop (but I think most of people do), buts, and strong alcohols like whiskey (it's brown right?).

17. Which of these words would you say describes you best: chocolate lover, coffee lover, full of 💩, cookie lover, or chocolate lab lover? Coffee lover, but I can't drink coffee anymore due to health reasons.

18. When was the last time you drank hot chocolate? Today at work, right before my shift.

19. Do you like chocolate milk? I do. But again, I prefer Polish one to Belgian one because Polish chocolate milk is less sweet.

20. Which of these cartoon characters do you like best: Yogi Bear, Arthur, Sandy Cheeks (from SpongeBob SquarePants), Dora the Explorer, or Scooby Doo? I only know three of them and I'm gonna go with Scooby Doo.

21. Which of these names do you like best for a girl: Auburn, Hazel, Willow, Oak, or Maple? Hazel. I know someone with this name.

22. List three things you like in nature that are brown. Sand (does it count as brown?), tree branches, some birds.

23. Which of these names do you like best for a dog: Peanut, Walnut, Hazelnut, Willow, or Oakley? Willow, I think.

25. Which of these names do you like best for a boy: Auburn, Hazel, Oak, Oakley, or Willow? Maybe Willow.

26. Have you ever gotten a henna tattoo? Yes, long time before I got the real one.

27. Are you wearing anything brown right now, and if so, what? No, I don't.

28. Do you think you look good in brown? I don't know. Never thought about it, but also, it's not the colour I'd choose to wear anyway, though.

20. Which of these names do you like best for a girl: Harvest, Fawn, Amber, Oakley, or Coco? Amber. I know someone with this name, too.

21. Which of these names do you like best for a cat: Twilight, Harvest, Molasses, Mahogany, or Syrup? Twilight, the rest doesn't appeal to me.

23. Have you ever dressed up as an Indian for Halloween? No, but I don't celebrate Halloween anyway.

24. Have you ever driven a brown car? No. We never had brown cars.

27. Do you prefer pancakes 🥞 or waffles 🧇? Waffles are a part of my culture, but I prefer these thin pancakes that French people call crêpes.

28. What are three of your favorite things you own that are made of wood? 🪵 Probably the photo frames with photos of my cat, I can't think of anything else.

29. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? 🪵 No, but we had one lesson in school where we made something of wood.

30. Have you ever made your own chocolate fudge? Yeah, together with my dad when I was a child. My dad was making a lot of homemade desserts.

31. Do you know anyone who doesn't like chocolate, and if so, who? Yeah, myself. 

32. Do you ever get chocolate cravings? No, I don't.

33. Which of these careers sounds the most appealing to you: park ranger, dog walker, fudge maker, woodworker, or safari tour guide? I don't know, honestly. Probably woodworker, but I can't see myself doing that job anyway.

34. Have you ever been on a safari? No, I haven't.

37. Have you ever seen a kangaroo cross the road? 🦘 No, they don't exist in wild in my country.

38. Do you think hot chocolate tastes better with marshmallows or without? I never had hot chocolate with marshmallows, but I don't like marshmallows, so my guess is without.

39. Can you see a brown cardboard box from where you're sitting right now? 📦 A lot, to be honest. We have a little online shop and there are boxes all over the house.

42. When was the last time you ate a lunch that came in a brown bag? Never, I think.

44. Have you ever had a friend with the last name Brown? Not literally Brown, but I knew someone named De Bruyne, which means brown in my language.

43. What was the last thing you ate that was chocolate-flavored or had chocolate in it? Pudding, yesterday.

44. Do you like chocolate pie? Never tried it, sounds unusual to me.

45. Do you prefer chocolate cake or white cake? I'm not a big fan of cake.

46. Do you own a fondue fountain? Yes, I do. But we have used it only once.

48. Have you ever dyed your hair brown? No, my hair is brown by nature and I don't like it.

50. Do you own a brown dress? I don't wear dresses.