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[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 36

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 35

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@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

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Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, alcohol use, crying, fluff, smut, groping, heavy kissing, oral sex, fingering, premature ejaculation, squirting, praise/degradation

Word Count: 6.7k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 36: I’ll Be There For You

Friday, October 6th, 1989

For the next few weeks after you’ve left the apartment, you do everything in your power to get your life back on track. You get up early every day, having breakfast with your Mom and helping clean up afterwards. Robin drives you to school, and you do the typical model student thing you've always done, taking notes and participating in class. At work, you focus on getting your tasks done, and supervising your subordinates to the best of your ability. Then you go home, get your homework done before dinner is all set and ready for you on the dining room table. You share the meal with your mother once again, the both of you talking about your day and carrying on like everything is normal. It's almost like you never left, like you never met Eddie at all.

That's not to say you haven't thought about him. Of course you have. But you reserve that for when you're in your bed, alone to marinate in your thoughts. Every night, you get closer to the solution to the problem he's created. Every night, you hate him a little less. Every night, you miss him more and more. Every night, you move nearer to where you know you want to be. Forgiveness. You've wanted to be there this entire time, even when you'd convinced yourself it would be impossible to look past this. One of the things that helps you reach this conclusion, is a phone call you have with Dustin about halfway through your period of rumination.

"Of course, she's right here." Mom says sweetly into the headset of the phone. She's been talking to Dustin for a good while, he's been filling her in on all the wonderful things about California and college. "Dusty wants to talk to you, Y/N." Mom hands the phone your way, and you gladly take it. You've missed him a lot since he's been gone. He may be your annoying little brother, but you still love him very much.

"Hey, Dustin. How's college treating you?" You ask once you put the phone to your ear.

"It's been great! This place is awesome! Everyone is so smart and nerdy like me! You'll have to come visit! And you have to try the breakfast burritos! They. Are. Amazing." Dustin says excitedly through the receiver, talking far too fast.

"I'm sure I will sometime, Dusty." You smile, though your tone still comes off a little sad. You're glad he seems to be fitting in well and adjusting to living away from home. But you miss having the little goober around to get on your nerves.

"What about you? Everything going okay? You know...with school, and work..." Dustin does his best to avoid the tender subject, but you know immediately that he's alluding to Eddie. You suppose they've probably talked at some point recently, they are pretty close. You aren't sure you want to have this conversation with him. But maybe another perspective will help you figure out what choice to make.

"I'm fine, Dusty. I mean, I'm not fine. But I'm doing my best." You pause, wondering if you dare ask what Eddie said to him. "I take it you and Eddie talked? About...us?" You ask, wanting to bash your own head in with the phone for opening this can of worms.

"Well, yeah. He's, like, my best friend. But he told me everything about the party, and Chrissy, and all the other idiotic shit." Dustin explains, making you laugh at his earnest use of the word 'idiotic'. "I'm really sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they had history. He seemed really ashamed of it. God, I swear he was crying a little over the phone." He says sullenly, his heart aching for the both of you. He can't imagine what you must be going through. The broken trust you must feel, and the guilt wracking Eddie to the core. It sounds like a complete mess. Much like all your friends, though, he's still rooting for the both of you. He may not know a whole lot about love, his only real relationship crashed and burned. But he can guarantee a picture of you and Eddie would be smack dab under the word, if one looked it up in Merriam-Webster.

"I'm sure he was. I know he feels bad, he's told me so himself. And I don't want it to be a big deal. But, somehow it is. Eddie's never lied to me about anything, except this. He did everything he could to ensure I wouldn't find out about him and Chrissy. I just...I wonder what else he's lied to me about." You bite down on your trembling lip at the thought, unable to stomach the concept of every single thing Eddie's ever said being untrue. That the truth is...he doesn't love you, or like you. That he only ever said that to get further into your pants. Deep down, you know none of these suppositions make sense. But if you're honest with yourself, his little affair with Chrissy doesn't either. Not to you, anyway. He could've easily found someone else to screw, but he chose her. Why?

"Y/N, I know it's especially hard to believe right now. But I swear to you, on our mother, that Eddie is no liar. At least, he's not one to make a habit of it. I really think that all this is, is a huge mistake he regrets. I'm sure if he could take it all back, he would. But he can't, so the next best thing was hiding it." Dustin explains emphatically, really going to bat for his friend.

"I know...You're right. Everyone is. I'm just overreacting一" You say, slightly annoyed. Everybody sounds like a goddamn broken record lately.

"I didn't say that, Y/N. And if I know the others as well as I think I do, no one else did, either." He cuts you off. "Look, all I'm trying to say is that you both love and care for each other. Like, more than I ever thought two people possibly could. And while it's up to you what you want to do, I think it would be pretty stupid to throw in the towel over this."

You roll your eyes at his words, but he's not wrong. Until the party, you had such a wonderful thing going with Eddie. You made a home together, and it was perfect. You were happy. Truly happy for the first time in your life. And your entire being aches to get that feeling back. "I know." You finally reply, barely above a whisper. "T-tell me more about California." You stutter, sniffing hard and wiping a tear from your eye as you change the subject.

Dustin thankfully lets you be about your broken relationship, fully aware that his words have been taken into strong consideration. He fills you in on everything, mostly about all the science-y stuff and delicious food he's been devouring lately. He's always been quite the sponge, absorbing the world around him to his heart's content. Hearing him speak so cheerfully about his new life lifts your spirits, allowing you to put your own troubles aside. You're so proud of him, achieving such great things already. You hope he'll come home for the holidays, it definitely wouldn't be the same without him.

After Dustin has talked your ear off for a good hour or so, you give the phone back to Mom and go to your room. The rest of your night is calm, and cool-headed. You really take Dustin's words to heart, allowing the things everyone's been saying to truly soak in. Eddie didn't want to deceive you, and nothing else about his words or actions has been dishonest. He made a bad choice, as any human being does from time to time. You yourself have made some choices you aren't proud of, namely dating Tommy and putting up with the abuse he inflicted on you. But you know better now, and so does Eddie. He loves you more than anything in the world, and you love him just as much.

Despite your talk with Dustin bringing you around a bit, you still keep your distance from Eddie for a little longer. You aren't sure why, really. Perhaps it’s an exercise in self-control. Getting yourself comfortable with the idea of being alone, if something else causes your partnership with Eddie to end for good. You know, just in case. You continued your routine, slowly warming up to him again. A small smile at work here, a brief 'good night' at the end of a shift there. Little things to let him know that soon, you'll be ready to try this again. You've felt a bit bad, seeing him sulking behind concessions, or sweeping the theater sluggishly. But he hasn't called, or tried to talk to you about anything besides work. He's lets you have your space, waiting patiently for you to come back to him.

Friday, October 13th, 1989

October is well underway by the time you think you're ready to take Eddie back. The air is cooler, and the leaves have turned to rich hues of yellow, orange, and red. It's currently Friday the 13th, and Robin insisted on coming over for the night and watching the horror film named after this mysterious day, which she vehemently claims is 'tradition'. You find it a bit silly, you're far from superstitious. But you're glad to have the company. You've grown much closer to Robin these last few weeks, to a point where you'd safely call her your best friend. Vickie is definitely a lucky girl, even though you still haven't met her yet. Robin swears she'll be attending Steve's Halloween party, and she's eager to meet everyone.

"Ready to watch some horny teens get slaughtered?" Robin asks, holding a VHS tape in her hand as she stands in your doorway.

"You know it!" You reply giddily, stepping aside to let her come in. You close the door behind her, and go to the kitchen. "I've already got the popcorn ready, and I've been chilling some wine I bought after class. So, just pop that tape in and we'll一" You're cut off by the doorbell ringing, which you find odd. You didn't invite anyone else over tonight, at least, not successfully. Steve's manning Family Video on his own tonight, and Nancy doesn't like scary movies. Wondering who it is, you go right back over to the door and pull it open. And you find the absolute last person you'd expect to darken your doorstep. Chrissy. Maybe this day is unlucky after all. "Oh, no. Absolutely not." You chuckle angrily, shaking your head and attempting to slam the door in her face. You don't want to hear a damn thing this whore has to say. But she blocks the door with her body, desperate to speak with you.

"Y/N, please. I just want to talk." Chrissy insists, her sad eyes begging with yours to let her in.

"About what? Have you been talking to Eddie?" You ask accusingly, ready to try and force her out again.

"No! I-I tried to. Just to apologize. But, he hung up on me." She explains, straining against your grip on the door. "Please, just give me five minutes."

"Fine. Five minutes. And they better be good ones." You sigh in annoyance, ceasing your pushing. She steps inside, meekly holding her purse close to her body.

"Uh, what the fuck is she doing here?" Robin asks angrily after she's put the tape in the VCR. She crosses her arms, standing her ground. She looks about ready to beat Chrissy up on your behalf.

"Relax, Rob. We're just gonna talk in my room for a minute." You explain, leading Chrissy down the hall to your bedroom.

"Alright. Let me know if I have to kick some skank ass!" Robin calls after you, peeking her head down the hallway. She narrows her eyes at Chrissy, making her gasp in fear.

"Alright. Out with it." You say flatly after you close the bedroom door. You lean against it, standing above her as she sits on your bed.

"Look, Y/N. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed Eddie at your party. That was wrong of me. I just...still had feelings for him after what we used to have." She explains sadly, looking down at her hands. She kisses your boyfriend, in front of everyone, and she can't even look you in the eye.

"I'm not really interested in hearing what you two 'used to have', Chrissy." You snip, and she finally looks at you.

"No. I know. And I'll never forgive myself for any of this. The affair, the kiss, the drugs. But I want you to know that Eddie in no way reciprocated it. He froze up, he didn't feel the way he used to. It was clear to me at that moment that he doesn't have feelings for me anymore. He only cares for you." She speaks sincerely, not breaking away from your gaze this time. She knows how wrong all of this is, that she shouldn't have betrayed her friends like this. All you've done is try to help her, and she acted selfishly in return.

"Is that all?" You ask, still none too happy to have her in your house.

"Yeah. I guess it is." Chrissy nods, standing up. "I don't expect you to forgive me, Y/N. I certainly wouldn't. But...don't let Eddie go. He loves you so much, I see the way you two are when you're together. Don't lose out on something that comes once in a lifetime, if you're lucky." She gently pats your shoulder, and you surprisingly don't shrug her off. You just lead her out of the room, and give her a small 'thank you' at the front door. You sit down on the couch once she's gone, and Robin comes to your side.

"I heard everything, Y/N. What do you think about it?" She asks softly, taking hold of your hand to ground you. You feel like you've left your own body for a moment. It's strange, you'd already drawn the conclusion that Eddie had no interest in Chrissy anymore. But to hear it straight from the horse's mouth, to know that not one ounce of him accepted her affection, even out of reflex? It means far more than any reassuring words you've gotten from anybody else. It's finally clicked for you now. You're ready.

"I think...I've got to get my boyfriend back." You say slowly, laughing in disbelief once the words leave your lips. You look at Robin, who's smiling brightly at you.

"That's great, Y/N. I'm so happy for you." She pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tight.

"I should call him!" You exclaim excitedly, about to lunge for the phone.

"Oh, no. I don't think so. You can call the dingus tomorrow. Tonight is our night. No boys, no drama. Just Pamela Voorhees, wine, and popcorn." Robin insists that you slow down and let the man wait another night. He'll survive, just like he has for three whole weeks.

"Ugh, you're right. We've got our plans, and I intend to honor them. Just let me get the glasses." You reply, feeling rather chipper now. You practically bounce off the sofa to get your snacks.

"That's my girl!" Robin cheers, getting the tape ready to start playing. You come back to the couch shortly after, switching off the lights along the way. You both settle in, draping a warm blanket over your laps and setting the bowl between you. Robin clicks the remote, and the movie begins to play.

You allow yourselves to become fully immersed in the film, jumping at every startling moment. You drink your wine, and munch down popcorn like nobody's business. It's rather nice to turn your brain off and relax for a while. It's not something you allow yourself to do all that much. Even during your sleepover, your mind still drifted to Eddie on numerous occasions. But now, you don't have to worry about that. You'll call him tomorrow, and go back home to the apartment. One last night of solitary fun won't kill you.

About halfway through the movie, though, you really have to pee. "Can you pause it? I gotta run to the bathroom." You ask.

"Sure thing." Robin nods, clicking the remote to freeze the film.

You paw your way down the pitch-dark hallway, finding the bathroom after a small struggle. You might just be a teensy bit tipsy. You flick on the light, not even bothering to close the door. It's just you and Rob in the house, and she's not gonna come down here. You take your time relieving yourself, thinking about how wonderful tomorrow is going to be. You'll be with your man again, no doubt fucking like bunnies to make up for lost time. You smile to yourself at the thought, but you're interrupted by the sound of Robin talking to somebody on the phone. You wonder who it is, hopefully she's not blabbing to Steve about your decision. News will travel fast, that's for sure.

"Who were you talking to?" You ask once you return to the room.

"Oh, just my Mom. Letting her know I'll be home tomorrow. I'm way too buzzed to drive home tonight." She says, laughing nervously. Robin is notoriously awful at lying.

"Uh-huh. Sure." You say, unconvinced. But you'll let it be, for now. You keep watching the movie, observing Jason's mother slashing away at promiscuous young adults, earning revenge for letting her little boy drown. It's kind of a sad movie, when you really think about it. That poor woman, she just wanted her son to have a semi-normal childhood. And those assholes who were supposed to watch him were too busy screwing to pay attention. You know you're not supposed to side with the killer in these things, but Pamela Voorhees can surely be the exception. Right?

You let out a long yawn once the credits roll, looking over at the clock. Almost ten. It's not that late, but after school, work, and dealing with Chrissy, you can't help feeling exhausted. A satisfied kind of exhausted, like you've accomplished a lot in one day. But exhausted nonetheless. You're about to get up, taking the empty glasses with you, when you hear the sound of an electric guitar outside. What the fuck?

"Rob, what did you do?" You ask, turning to her with a suspicious look.

"Why don't you let me clean up, and you can go see for yourself?" She replies with a grin. She had in fact called Steve while you were in the bathroom, letting him know what you'd decided. He then passed the news on to Eddie, who has been planning the ultimate way to woo you back into his arms. He spent hours learning one of your favorite songs, even though he doesn't like it much himself. All so he can sweep you off your feet like a true gentleman does.

"Jesus, you guys are incorrigible." You laugh, shaking your head as you stand up. You're dressed in your pj's, not exactly the sexiest thing for Eddie to see you in. But screw it, it sounds like he's got a spectacle of romance waiting for you outside. You go to the door, turning the knob to pull it open. You step out into the night, finding Eddie on your lawn with his guitar slung over his shoulder, plugged into his amp. He's even got a damn microphone set up, and he's lit up by headlights. Where all his equipment is plugged in, you have no idea. The Hellfire kids, Max, Nancy, and Steve are all here, having been brought over in the van or in Steve's or Nancy's car.

You approach the small crowd they've formed in front of Eddie's set-up, and they usher you to the front of it. Your eyes truly meet his for the first time in weeks, and you feel the sparks flying inside you instantly. He looks sexy as hell, his hair tied back, smiling cheerily as he's so happy to see you. He's wearing a red flannel, one of his typical t-shirts underneath, and his usual tight black jeans with the holes in the knees. He grips his guitar like an extension of himself, strumming the notes you recognize immediately. No fuckin' way, he learned a Bon Jovi song for me?

"Hey, sweetheart. This one's for you." Eddie says, giving you a cheeky wink before he starts to sing. "I guess this time you're really leavin'. I heard your suitcase say 'goodbye'. Well, as my broken heart lies bleedin'. You say true love is suicide..." He sings breathily into the mic, the words immediately melting your heart. You know how much he dislikes this song, how cheesy and awful he says it is. But he knows you love it, so he's singing it just for you. His eyes are glued to yours as he sings, his fingers hitting the notes effortlessly. You haven't seen Eddie play a whole lot since you've been together, at least, not like this. "You say you've cried a thousand rivers, and now you're swimmin' to the shore. You left me drownin' in my tears, and you won't save me anymore."

His heart pours out of his mouth with every lyric, truly feeling the music and the strong emotions coursing through him. You watch on, hypnotized by his dark, velvety voice. Again, you've heard him sing plenty, you'd swear he was an exotic bird in another life. But it's nothing compared to this. It's like he's ripping his chest wide open, letting you see all the vulnerable bits beating away inside. The song picks up for the chorus, and he plays it like he wrote the damn song himself. "I'll be there for you, these five words I swear to you. When you breathe, I wanna be the air for you. I'll be there for you. I'd live and I'd die for you. I'd steal the sun from the sky for you. Words can't say what love can do, I'll be there for you."

It slows down once again, and you can't help swaying along as he performs the second verse for you. "I know you know we've had some good times, now they have their own hiding place. Well, I can promise you tomorrow, but I can't buy back yesterday." Eddie's breath catches on the last few words, and you see a couple tears escape his eyes. It's funny, the words of the song have never rung so true for you until this moment. It perfectly encapsulates how you've been both feeling, how you ended up here. And with every line he recites, it's a promise made to you for all time. A promise to take care of you, and never lead you down the wrong road again. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to tell him how much you also want to make this promise. Your feet move before you even realize what you're doing, bringing yourself right beside Eddie to sing the chorus with him this time. His smile grows, and everyone cheers. "Help me out, sweetheart." He chuckles, and you lean into the mic with him.

"I'll be there for you, these five words I swear to you. When you breathe, I wanna be the air for you. I'll be there for you. I'd live and I'd die for you. I'd steal the sun from the sky for you. Words can't say what love can do, I'll be there for you." The two of you sound amazing together, tears streaming down your faces as you gaze in one another's eyes. You silently agree to skip the last verse, as you're about to become an absolute mess in a minute. So you finish it out with the 'whoa-oh's that usually come at the end, with everyone else joining in to sing with you. Eddie punches out those final notes, and you pull him into you once he's done.

Your lips crash against his, and the crowd goes wild. Whooping and clapping and whistling as you hold each other close. Eddie's hands strongly grip your waist, and your arms are so tight around his neck you're almost choking him. But neither of you care one bit. You're too engrossed in having the kiss you've been waiting for, your hearts overflowing with love and affection. You melt against him, allowing his needy tongue to slither into your mouth. Your faces are hot and flushed, absolutely dripping with tears. But you don't dare pull away yet, not until you absolutely have to come up for breath.

"I believe I have something of yours." Eddie pants once you stop kissing, reaching into his pocket for your necklace. He holds it in his palm, presenting it to you for the second time.

"You wanna put it on me, love?" You ask giddily, biting your lip.

"Sure thing, babydoll." He smirks, giving you another short kiss before turning you around. He brings the pick around your neck, fastening the gold chain in the back. You turn back around to show him, and his eyes sparkle with glee. "That's my girl." He chuckles, quickly slipping his guitar over his head and setting it down. Eddie quickly scoops you up into his arms, making you shriek in surprise.

"Eddie! What are you doing!" You cackle, wrapping your arms around him to hold on.

"Takin' you home, baby. Back where you belong." He says simply, carrying you towards the van.

"But what about our stuff?" You ask, wondering why he's in such a rush.

"I'll get it loaded up real quick. But you are gonna stay right here. Because when we get home, I am gonna spoil you all night long." Eddie says lowly in your ear, sending that familiar chill of pleasure up your spine. You've definitely missed that, the deep purr of his voice saying filthy things that make your pussy throb. He sets you down, opening your door and ushering you into your seat. "I won't be long, princess. Stay put." He pats the side of the door a couple times, running back to retrieve all your belongings. Obviously everyone helps him out, you watch them through the side mirror, and turn around in your seat as they get everything loaded into the back.

It doesn't take long, and everybody says their goodbyes and waves as Eddie pulls the van out of the driveway. You'll call mom at work once you get to the apartment, letting her know the good news. You'd hate for her to come home to an empty house again with no warning. The drive is quick, and anxious, the two of you itching to get inside and rip your clothes off. Eddie parks the van rather crooked in the apartment lot, and practically yanks you out of your seat to run inside and up the stairs. As soon as his key turns in the lock, and the door swings open, you're on each other in seconds. You slam the door shut, and press Eddie up against it.

"I missed you." You say desperately, still breathing hard from rushing to get inside. Your mouth immediately finds his again, unable to get enough of his taste that you've been craving. Tobacco, sweets, maybe a touch of beer. Eddie drops his keys on the floor, which alerts Arwen to your presence. She comes dashing down the hallway, meowing louder than you ever thought a cat could. She scampers up your back, wrapping herself around your shoulders. She nuzzles her head into your neck, her thick fur tickling your flesh. You pull away from Eddie, giggling at Arwen's affection.

"I missed you too, Y/N. Maybe not as much as the cat, though." He chuckles, reaching forward to give her some scritches. She purrs excitedly, happy to have both her parents home again. You can only imagine how she's been without you here, crying for you all day and night. That must've been rough for Eddie to deal with.

"How was she while I was away?" You ask, carefully plucking her off your shoulders to cradle her in your arms instead.

"Ugh, it was awful. She didn't want to eat unless I hand fed her, and she wouldn't stop meowing. She even shit on the floor a few times out of stress." Eddie explains, crinkling his nose.

"Jesus. I'm sorry you had to handle that by yourself." You tut, giving him a meaningful look.

"It's fine, Y/N. I consider it fair punishment." He replies, his face falling a little. In all honesty, he feels he deserved far worse. "And I know I haven't said it yet, for some idiotic reason. But, I'm sorry for lying to you, sweetheart. I should've been honest with you, and I promise that's the only thing I've ever lied about in our relationship. And I will never, ever do that again." He says sincerely. He knows you've already forgiven him, but it's important for him to give you a real apology. It's the least he can do, it's what he should've done so much sooner.

"I know, Eds. It's all okay now. It's funny, Chrissy actually came around the house today." You start, Eddie's eyes widening.

"Really?" He asks in shock, wondering what you two may have discussed. That is, if you gave her the time of day as opposed to kicking her ass.

"Yeah, she apologized for the whole thing. She made it clear that you wanted no part in that kiss. And she told me that as soon as she did it, she knew you only have feelings for me now. It's exactly what I needed to hear, to help me see past this whole thing." You say sweetly, setting the cat down and putting your hands on his chest.

"Well, I'm glad she did that for you. I'm guessing you're still pretty pissed at her, though. I know I am." His hands find your hips, pulling you in closer until your body is flush with his.

"Oh, big time. That bitch is never setting foot in here again." You say half-jokingly, drawing a breezy laugh from the both of you. "Now, you said something about spoiling me?" You ask, lifting your knee to brush against Eddie's crotch. He groans at the contact, unable to hold back. It's been so long since you've touched him like this. He hasn't even had the sense to 'take care of himself' since you've left. He's thought about it, taking those photos you took for him from the nightstand and yanking one out. But he felt like it would be wrong to do that, and he was sure he'd just end up crying while looking at them anyway. And that is a total boner killer.

"I certainly did, angel." He smiles, lifting you up to put your legs around his waist. You can feel the beginnings of his erection rubbing against you, ramping up your excitement for what he's got in store for you. He carries you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you shortly after. He kneels above you, cupping your cheek as he gazes at you lovingly. "Promise you'll never leave again?" He asks softly.

"You promise to stop being a dumbass?" You tease.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart." Eddie chuckles, making an ‘X’ over his chest while slowly lowering his lips toward yours.

"Then so do I." You reply just before his plush mouth reaches your own. You let him take the lead, curious to see how exactly he intends to spoil you tonight. He nudges your lips open, slipping his tongue inside to tangle with yours. "Mmm." You moan quietly, your body heating up from the heart-stopping kiss. His hand creeps up your side, finding and squeezing your breast. "Eddie." You whimper as his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple, your hips bucking up slightly.

"Already so needy for me, princess?" Eddie asks darkly, pinching the sensitive nub through the thin fabric.

"Yes, baby. I've missed you so much. If I'm being honest, there were times where I couldn't stop thinking about this. Even when I was so angry with you." You answer breathlessly, your back arching as his lips find your throat.

"Did you ever do anything about it?" He questions, dying to know if you touched yourself while you were away. The mental image of you rubbing your clit and fingering your pussy while moaning his name makes his cock twitch.

"No. It would've just made me sad. Did you ever...?" You trail off, knowing he understands what you mean without fully asking.

"Not once. Nothing compares to you, love." He says, biting down hard on your throat to make you squeal. He's missed your noises so very much, the way you hold absolutely nothing back from him. "These pajamas are pretty cute, by the way. Are they new?" He asks, slipping his hand underneath your shirt now. He has to feel your supple flesh in his big, strong hands.

"They're Robin's. I'd forgotten to pack my own when I left, so she let me borrow them." You say, gasping when his hand closes around your tit again. Everything he's doing feels so good, and it's making you unbelievably wet. Your hands slip into his hair as he continues to nip and suck on your neck. You're sure to have a fresh batch of hickies in the morning, once again branding you as Eddie's girl.

"That was nice of her. Sounds like she's been a really good friend to you lately." He says casually.

"Yeah, she really has. I don't know how I would've kept myself together without her." You reply, though you'd prefer to focus on the task at hand. "Now, are we gonna do this, or are we gonna talk about other women all night?" You lower a hand between your bodies, palming Eddie's cock through his jeans.

"Okay." He moans. "Message received, sweetheart. Sex now, talk later." He laughs, sitting up to take his flannel off. He slips it off his arms, tossing it to the floor. He lifts his t-shirt over his head, exposing his beautiful chest. Your hands are immediately on him, running your palms up and down his skin, stopping to admire his ink like it's the very first time.

"I've missed this gorgeous body of yours, Eds." You admit, raising yourself to his level. You press your lips to his chest, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a haphazard trail. He hums at the contact, peering down at you as your pretty lips worship him.

"I've missed yours too, babydoll." He tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting to see your perfect tits. You allow him to take it off, throwing it across the room. It lands on Arwen who's curled up in her bed, earning a disapproving 'mew' from her. Your breasts bounce slightly once the garment is gone, drawing Eddie's eyes right to them. He takes them in his hands, roughly massaging them. "And I've definitely missed these." He lowers his head to admire your own chest now, carefully nipping and sucking in all the places he remembers will drive you wild.

"Fuck, Eds..." You whine, savoring every drag of his teeth and swirl of his tongue. His lips close around your left nipple, drawing more needy sounds from your lips. "Please, baby. I need you." You scoot yourself forward, straddling his lap in your desperation. You grind yourself down onto him, moaning at the friction of his stiff cock rubbing against your clit.

"Slow down, princess. I'm gonna take care of you." Eddie says sweetly, leaving your chest alone and guiding you to lay down again. "I gotta say I love how needy you are, though. Still such a filthy little slut for me, aren't you?" He asks, hands grabbing at the waistband of your pants now.

"Just for you, my love." You nod, waiting for him to remove the rest of your clothes and see for himself exactly how filthy you are. He slowly pulls the pajamas and your panties down, the clothing joining the rest in seconds. You spread your legs, allowing him to get a good look.

"Fuck, you're soaked, sweetheart." He groans at the sight, so relieved to see your glistening folds again. He licks his lips, like a starving animal. Before either of you can think to do anything else, Eddie dives between your legs and immediately starts licking hungry strokes from your entrance to your bundle of nerves.

"Oh my god!" You cry out, taken completely by surprise. Your hips jolt when his warm mouth meets your cunt, but he quickly laces his arms around your thighs to hold you still. He greedily swirls his tongue around your bud, and dips inside your dripping hole in manic patterns. "Mm, I'm guessing you missed my pussy, too?" You ask seductively, allowing yourself to relax and enjoy his relentless chow-down.

"Yes. So much. You taste so fuckin' sweet. Best pussy in the world." Eddie answers frantically between strokes and flicks of his tongue. You're already building up towards an orgasm, unable to believe how quickly it's coming to be. But everything about this is driving you insane with pleasure. His crazed movements, the depraved moans and slurps he makes as he drinks you all up, his fingers digging into your thighs, his crotch rutting against the bed as he struggles for some friction of his own. He's completely unhinged, untamed. And it won't take long at all to make you cum.

"Keep going, Eds. You feel so good...such a perfect boy for me..." You whimper, grinding your hips against his face. Your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging repeatedly as you move with him. You're both an absolute mess, grabbing at one another any way you possibly can as he eats you out like you're his last meal. Eddie ups the stakes, adding two thick, ringed fingers inside your pussy, pumping them in and out at a rapid pace. "Fuck! Oh, Eddie...you're gonna make me cum already. Don't stop, please." You feel like your mind is melting, unable to comprehend how amazing everything feels.

"Cum for me, sweetheart. Soak my face like a good little slut." Eddie commands, his tone pitched and broken. He's been steadily humping the bed this whole time, driven so far out of control by the taste, smell, and sound of you. Once you let it all go, so will he. A big sticky mess in his boxers, all because of you. He curls his fingers harder and faster inside you, and sucks harshly on your clit to send you flying over the edge.

"Eddie! Fuck!" You cry out as an unbelievable high violently rips through you. Your thighs clamp down around his head, nails digging into his scalp. Your muscles spasm, and you completely soak Eddie's face and the sheets with your cum. He groans into your pussy once you've given him what he wants, his load spilling inside his pants, hips bucking a few final times against the mattress to ride out his orgasm. But he doesn't stop there, he crawls back up to you to press his cum-soaked lips to yours. You're still trying to catch your breath, but you meet him in the middle anyway. "Baby, I want more, I want you. All of you, over and over again, please?" You beg clumsily between those same starving kisses from before. It's like you can't help yourselves, clamoring for every bit of pleasure that you can get, completely drunk with lust.

"You'll get everything you want, angel. I promise. I won't stop until you beg me to." Eddie pants, leaving a sticky trail of arousal on your skin as he kisses every last inch of you he can reach. It's gonna be a long night. That first orgasm was far too quick, not nearly enough to satisfy you. It's a good thing you don't have a damn thing to worry about tomorrow. No work, or school, or heartbreak. All you have to focus on now, is each other.

To be continued...

[possessedopossum]

The Veilguard: my full review [positive, long post, less about game mechanics and more about meta, spoilers]

The thing that makes Veilguard special to me is how self aware the game is. In every dialogue, plot twist or quest I can feel the presence of somebody who wanted to share something with me. Be it personal experience, message, pain or joy. As of 2024, many games have lost their creative spark. Video game industry is no longer a nerd only zone, it's a business no different than others. Many studios utilize AI to write their plots, chase after current trends or simply make decisions that would create the biggest audience possible at the expense of something people love the franchise for. Veilguard did well, because it showed me something I haven't seen in a very long time: the human soul.

Perhaps you have noticed it on your own. The world has gone completely nuts after the covid. Or maybe it has always been this way and I only noticed it now. It is not a surprise to me that players want their game to be darker, to have more aggressive dialogue and to have a morally grey or even evil protagonist. For the past few years I've been feeling like someone had turned the lights off. And the game gave me an impression that someone at bioware feels this way too.

Only negativity gives content creators views and money these days. Open any social media, read any post or watch any video. If something is on top, it's almost always a hate post. What was the last movie most reviewers enjoyed? The last game? Perhaps the one that was released 10 years ago? What was the last time, you, my dear reader, have smiled? Not bitterly or sardonically, but out of genuine joy?

It is extremely fitting that Rook's mentor figure is Varric. Varric is somebody who always sees the best in people. He grew up in one hell of a city but he still loves it. He can find something to laugh about no matter how dire the situation is. He is a people person who can build friendship with anybody. Varric is very charismatic and tends to avoid conflict. He is a chronic liar but that doesn't make him bad because he never lies with malicious intentions. And in some ways, Rook is similar to him.

Yes, Rook can't be a complete asshole. Because the game is not about being an asshole. One of our antagonists, Solas, considers the world to be sick. Modern Thedas is a grave mistake that haunts him. He can't forget and move on because even the elves themselves wear his mistakes on their faces. Many things that are normal to the player character aren't normal to Solas. The world is so wrong and disgusting to Solas that he is willing to sacrifice things and people who are dear to him just to make the twisted world better.

Rook is nice because they are supposed to represent what is good in modern Thedas. They are supposed to be somebody who thinks the world is worth fighting for. And to a certain extent, their factions as well. The crows are contract killers and the lords of fortune are thiefs. Grey wardens are very concerned with politics and all the secrets they refuse to share constantly get people killed. Mourn watch has their immoral power hungry politicians as well and veil jumpers are sometimes willing to trade people for ancient secrets. They all aren't without sin but that's not the point. The point is, even with all the ugliness and darkness, there is still a place for light. And the light in the darkness is the exact message bioware tried to convey. The crows not being comically evil is not bad writing. It is a conscious writing choice to give us a human face for something we consider ugly and not worth fighting for. The player is metaphorically Solas, who needs to be persuaded that the world is worth at least something. The writers didn't need to bare the souls of player factions in all their mistakes, imperfections and cruelty. Because they showed us the factions' humanity. Some cruelty is still there, on the background, but it doesn't overshadow what is good. The crows, no matter how terrible, are a family. Viago may call Rook an idiot and while Rook considers their training literal torture, they sure love Viago back.

In fact, familial love is one of the core themes of the Veilguard. We have Emmrich and Manfred, Davrin and Assan and uncle Endrin, Lucanis and Caterina and Illario, Taash and Shathann, Bellara and Cyrian. It's a bit less direct with Neve and Harding. Neve has a lot of love for her city which is almost like a person to her, and Harding...I'll explain with a quote. "You're Lace Harding! You're more than this rage! You believe that the world is beautiful! That people are good! Hold onto it, hold on to who you are!".

Even the evanuris share the theme of family. Rook can compare Elgar'nan and Solas to relatives who can't get along. Elgar'nan calls Ghilan'nain his sister. Both shards of Mythal consider modern elves her children. Different but no less beloved, as Morrigan puts it.

Veilguard shows family without rose-tinted glasses. It shows that sometimes to love your children is to sacrifice something else you love (Lichdom for Emmrich), that parents have their own problems that may harm their children no matter how much parents wish to protect them (Shathann understands she is not the best mother and has complicated relationships with the Qun that harmed Taash), that sometimes parents do not understand their children at all and it's only up to children themselves to close the gap in understanding (Mythal, Solas and Rook), that familial love and desire to protect your family may turn into something ugly (Caterina being cruel to her grandchildren to prepare them for harsh realities of the antivan crows).

There is conflict in Veilguard, of intergenerational nature. Companions and their families, Rook and their faction leader, elves ancient and modern. It's up to the player how to deal with the last one. Humans, dwarves and qunari may not share blood ties with ancient elves but they still live in the world ancient elves created. As Rook, you're allowed to lash out in anger at Mythal and Solas. You can call Mythal guilty of all modern problems and fight her. You can bind Solas to the veil by force, call him asshole and express your frustrations with him multiple times throughout the game. You can also express sympathy and forgive them both. Because forgiving is neither condoning nor condemning, it's understanding and letting go. Being understood and allowed to peacefully let go of his mistakes is the exact thing that Solas needs to change his mind.

I believe that the Veilguard companions are one of the very best I've ever seen in a video game. They may not have as many different fates as for example Alistair has but is goodness measured with the amount of ways a character can be killed? I love the Veilguard crew because they all feel very real. Their personal problems are universal and very close to the player. Taash's story is not about being non-binary. It's about growing up, finding your place in the world, separating from your family and learning to appreciate it despite the mistakes your parents did while parenting you.

It's hard to decide who is my favorite. Taash's story made me cry but so did Harding's and Bellara's. The last scenes of Lucanis romance made me feral. I can't stomach the scene where Davrin and Assan die. The consequences of destruction of Minrathous/Treviso were hard to look at. I felt guilt, and if a game makes me feel something, it's a good game. I laughed, I cried, I was afraid and I felt joy, I was angry, I felt shame, I felt love. The game made me feel alive, I played through Rook's story like it was my own, what not to love about it?

The double blight wreaking havoc in Southern Thedas is sad but beautifully symbolic. Almost like a love letter from a long lost lover, It felt like bioware's meta commentary to me. "Yes, a whole lot of time has passed. We are no longer as young as we used to be, and so are you, not only the player, but our treasured friend as well. We have changed, you have changed and so did the world around us. Gaming and the video game industry are not what they used to be. We will never be able to go back no matter how much we want it because the only path that is left is the path forward. It doesn't mean that we no longer remember our shared past, no. We may not be able to go back but we promise to remember it fondly. We are still capable of creating beauty and the past will serve as a foundation for something new. We still have hope, and so should you".

The Veilguard to me is about nostalgia as well. I don't want to feed my inner Solas who sees the current world as sick. I want to make space for my inner Rook who is hopeful about the world just enought to fight for its future.

[kseniyagreen]

Some thoughts about Li Lun's arc and the meaning of the drama.

Life is full of contradictions, and my relationship with FoF has its contradictions too. Not all moments feel right, especially on closer inspection. And this is actually a very common story with works heavily laden with the author's idea. Under this thought that the author wants to express, some plot lines inevitably bend and the character arcs are distorted.

But I want to point out one thing that - in my subjective opinion - is missed when people talk about the lack of development Li Lun's redemption arc.

The point is that Li Lun doesn't have a redemption arc because there shouldn't be one in the entire concept of the drama - not just Li Lun, no one has one. This drama is fundamentally not about redemption at all.

Li Lun's problem is not that he is wrong about people. He actually sees people quite accurately. In a sense, he sees the world more clearly than others - it's not for nothing that he has a "true eye". And that is his tragedy.

Because the message of the drama, clearly voiced in another context, is "he sees things with his eyes but does not see with his heart".

Having received the true eye, he gained the ability to see reality as it is - with the darkness of human hearts, with injustice, separation, the inevitability of death. But reality as it is is unbearable - that is why we dream, and that is why the theme of dreams occupies a central place in the drama.

The theme of the sea of suffering reminded me of a poem by Yosano Akiko:

"They told me that the road I took

would lead me to the Sea of Death;

and from halfway along I turned back.

And ever since, all the paths I have roamed

were entangled, and crooked, and forsaken."

Not only Li Lun, but all the characters from the very beginning are moving towards the sea of death, and this is the main content of the drama.

Having realized that reality has no meaning - what can you do? Stomp your feet and break toys like a child - what Li Lun did. Drown in despair and crawl towards the cemetery - what Zhao Yuanzhou did in the beginning. Adapt to this cruel reality to the point where you cannot die because you no longer really exist - what the main villain did and Li Lun tried to do.

Or you can try to create your own meaning in this meaningless world, contrary to laws and logic - which I see as the message of the entire Zhuo Yichen's arc.

So, returning to Li Lun, the point of his arc was not to atone for sins or sacrifice himself for the greater good. But to realize that there are still things that are important to him in this world, even if they are broken, and there are things that are more important than physical survival.

How organically and logically this line was drawn in the drama is a debatable issue. I must admit - I also miss something in Li Lun's line. As well as the fact that in general the drama often forcibly pulls the characters' lines under the cruel rule of this world "a demon can truly be himself and follow his heart only on the threshold of death." The authors sometimes didn't try hard enough to justify such a radical situation.

But I still love this drama - more like a poem than an adventure story. Poem about death and dreams and person's will that is trying to pull this impossible dream through the reality of death.

Sometimes, in order to wake up in reality, you need to accept the death of a dream. But if a dream becomes more valuable than reality, if you are ready to hold on to it at the cost of your physical existence - sometimes you die with it. But sometimes a dream lives on after you. And sometimes a dream shared with others changes the world a little and gives you a chance to survive in spite of fate.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

current editing moodboard, please send help

[krbk-notebook]

hey @real-life-cloud @thatsgaybro @lyricalvicki @tempestaurora @sweetietenya @greyladyblue @moumjn

we‘re either mutuals on my main (@pecuirlig), on here, or you follow this blog — and it looks like we all like krbk ! :‘)

first of all, feel free to decline <3

would anyone be interested in making a little krbk discord group or something? :‘)

as a casual fun hangout spot for people of similar ages (i think we‘re all 20+, most early 20s?), for talking about krbk (& maybe other ships/characters/shows etc too), sharing or talking about fics, or art, or whatever we want :‘)

i know i‘ve wanted to have a space like that for years tbh lol, since i haven‘t had the luck to meet anyone irl who‘s also into fandom or specifically krbk, back when tumblr group chats were a thing they weren’t very lively lol, and the krbk discord groups i‘ve checked out so far haven‘t had active members my own age.

i would be super happy if any of you might be interested too ! :‘) but i will continue to suffer alone lmao if you should not <3 (/lighthearted)

(btw— i‘m super open to other people joining this too, so please do feel invited if you are 20+ and you want something like this too ! i just only @'ed these people because there‘s been Some interaction between us already. not having @'ed you doesn‘t mean you‘re not welcome :‘) !)

[bibuckleykinard]

how many times do we need to learn as people that irony and hyperbole can be harmful because 'jokes' aren't easily distinguished from genuine thoughts and feelings until we stop rewarding people for speaking or posting about violence

like even if you're joking/don't actually believe that/think whoever you are insulting is bad/immoral/fictional therefore deserves it - ad hominem attacks always do more harm to the people who share those characteristic then the individual you intend to cause harm to or discredit

[triglycercule]

who made the mtt. and no i dont mean like who made the CONCEPT of the murder time trio (because i know who that is. touken kamui i thank you for the fangame every day :3) but like,,,, who decided to just randomly pair these 3 together?? like whaaaat.......

part of me wants to believe it was rahafwabas with the whole bad sanses group thingy being made with those 3 in there and then like. the fangame just gave them specifically a seperate group name. but STILL,,,,, where did this trio come from

[journey-to-the-attic]

hmm not sure how to feel about obey me running the same pop quiz concurrently in both games

there's a weird disconnect - the new ui and sfx of nightbringer did a good job of giving that disjointed feeling of being somewhere unfamiliar, but given that the pop quiz seems to be taking place in the present that mc came from, the nightbringer ui just feels.... off in the wrong way

given that i've got more resources there i'll probably keep using the original game to play the pop quizzes, but since you can get devil points for s ranking a rhythm stage in nightbringer, seems like these events will be a good place to farm some!

(though in the first place i'd rather they finish the nightbringer story before adding supplementary content like this)

[tarnussy]

the blog turned 6 months old yesterday, and one thing hasn't changed in my head in this 6 months: I still think there is no point in it, like genuinely tumblr is not a place for a blog if you like G0dr!ck / are a creator for him

[winterdebts]

I need to start makinf contrnt euuuhh

[myrfing]

im realizing maybe the reason why I'm so flippant about "cancel culture" is cause I just don't care about like. famous people man. i do not think it matters much if someone loses the fame and goodwill they can't handle. i thought it was almost a given and something you tacitly agreed to when you decided to be such a public figure; you can transgress against a group, but repairing transgressions will always be individual, and that actually just becomes impossible when you throw in massive online crowds and idolatry in the mix. or not impossible, but requires a level of humility and levelheadedness that I don't expect any human person to actually have when being faced with the criticism of an enormous crowd. but you don't die, you just get yelled at by a bunch of people online and you leave. you're free. it's not because people are evil or more prone to "mob mentality" these days or whatever, it's because you're trying to communicate to people through the deeply unnatural platform of "social media". it's obviously shit and degrading to experience but i genuinely think the extreme vast majority of the population can't handle it, myself included, so people should just not...aim to be...idolized? to have fanbases? in the first place lol but maybe this is a useless way of looking at things because it'll happen anyways

[rk9]

You're literally stopping writers and artists from creating when you leave negative comments.

Positivity is free and is more of an inspiration than you think.

Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.

Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.

RIP decency indeed.

[photomatt]

You gonna do anything or make any statement about the rampant transmisogyny on this hellsite, especially in cases like predstrogen recently? Or yall gonna stay silent and keep letting/making us get pushed off of it.

I have a number of asks about this, so this is to address all of them, I won't do each individually.

We generally do not comment on individual cases, but because there seems to be mass misinformation around this, I will make an exception and comment on predstrogen.

First, Tumblr has a number of LGBT+ including trans people on staff, and they see things from the inside fully, and they're not protesting this case.

Why do we wrongly have a transphobe reputation? We did have an external contract moderator last year that was making transphobic moderation (and also selling moderation, criminally). As soon as we were aware that person was fired, and we later terminated the entire relationship with that contracting firm and have brought almost everything in-house (at great cost). I have previously commented on this publicly, several times.

I am not aware of any Automattician (people who work at Automattic and Tumblr) who has made any transphobic moderation actions. If it's reported it is investigated immediately, if anything were found that person would be terminated for cause immediately.

Predstrogen's account was suspended for:

Repeated mis-tagging of adult content against Tumblr's community guidelines. This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.

Multiple cases of harassment of other Tumblr users, not just me.

Multiple threats of violence, not just the one I share below.

These represent a breach of our Terms of Service, and we've exercised our right to refuse service.

Threats of violence are never okay. Threats of violence are not protected speech. We will work with police and FBI where appropriate, though to be clear prestrogen's case hasn't warranted that so far. I'm referring to what we may potentially do for other threats. I just got a death threat yesterday from someone mad about predstrogen, and that account was immediately terminated.

So regardless of whether you still think Tumblr staff is somehow a bunch of transphobes, know that threats of violence or death are still not acceptable and will result in immediate and serious action. Know that when you rile people up, they can do dumb things with possibly permanent consequences.

(2 hours later update: I have changed instances of the pronoun "they" or "their" to "the account" because I am unaware of pronoun preference in this instance and don't want to misgender anyone. Thank you for the people who reported this as an issue. Update 2: "She" is apparently better, the post now says that. Sorry for the mistake.)

Here's one (of many!) examples of the harassment violations, this one targets me but there are others targeting other users on the site.

The second part seems to indicate she wanted to be suspended, I'm unaware of why, perhaps to create this sort of uproar. I agree the hammers feel silly, but the start, "i hope photomatt dies forever a painful death" is a violation of Tumblr's community guidelines and terms of service.

The car part did hit close to home as I have almost died twice in car accidents.

Update 2: Added this text to the adult content part: This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[mggslover]

Stuck

In which reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her colleagues.

Pairing: Hotch x Reid x Morgan x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, p in v sex, overstimulation, masturbation, breast play Word count: 5,4k A/n: I'm ovulating, so you know what time it is 🤭 I'm really nervous to post this, so I hope you will enjoy!

“Oh, you guys are such babies!” You laugh as Spencer and Derek refuse to step into the elevator, explaining how they’ve been stuck in one before. 

“It’s not funny, Y/N,” Spencer chimes in. “There are six elevator deaths per year. Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization.”   

You roll your eyes at his comment, just as Hotch walks toward the elevator. “See!” You exclaim. “Hotch is joining us, and he saved you last time. We’ll be fine.” You add cheerfully.

“You’re coming?” Hotch asks, holding the elevator door open. You nod, pulling Morgan and Reid with you by their arms. 

You chuckle at their nervous reflections in the mirror as the elevator starts moving. A sudden creak causes Derek to snap his head towards you. “It made the same sound the last time!” You were just about to shut Derek up as the elevator shakes and the lights start flickering. 

“Not again!” Spencer whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s about to fall to his death at any given moment.

Hotch inspects the tight space, his expression grim. “It seems like the electricity went out…” 

“Actually, there are a lot of reasons why an elevator might stop,” Spencer interjects. “It could be worn-out suspension ropes, and it actually happens quite regularly that the motor overheats the safety sensors of the-“ 

“Let’s just solve this problem, shall we?” You cut him off, nudging Morgan out of the way to hit the red button on the panel. 

“You think that’ll do something?” Morgan asks, brow lifted. 

“It will alert someone that we’re stuck. We have to wait until somebody comes and gets us out of here.” Hotch adds. 

“Well at least I’ll be missing my meeting with Strauss,” I sigh in relief. 

“It was at twelve, right?” Spencer asks. 

“Yeah,” you respond with a nod.

“Statistically the average wait time to be rescued from an elevator is less than an hour,” Spencer continues, checking his watch. “That means you could still make it in time.” 

“Now that’s just what I wanted to hear,” you say sarcastically, earning a grin from Morgan. 

“We can only hope we won’t be in here for that long,” Hotch mutters, his impatience visible as he leans uncomfortably against the elevator doors. 

“Okay… so now what? Want to go over a case to pass the time?” 

“No, no cases please,” Morgan groans. “We’ve had three in a row. I’m done.” 

“Morgan is right. We’ve done enough cases in the past few days.” Hotch agrees. 

You mutter an “alright” as you sit down with your back against the elevator wall, smoothing out the crinkles in your skirt. The others look at you with uncertainty. Eventually Reid decides to sit next to you, exchanging a soft smile. Morgan follows suit, sitting in front of you. Hotch remains standing. You leave him be and turn to Spencer. 

“So Reid, I’m sure you’ve got enough interesting facts to pass the time.” 

Spencer looks surprised by the request, not used to directly being asked to share his facts, but his eyes quickly brighten, eager to share. “Well, actually, there are a lot of interesting things to say about elevators. There are approximately 20 million elevators worldwide,” you chuckle at his obvious enthusiasm. “The first elevator was created in 236 B.C. by Archimedes, a Greek mathematician. He used a water wheel and tied animals together with rope to create a lift mechanism.” You hum in interest. “They used lifts in the Colosseum, right?” 

“Yes! Exactly!” he responds excitedly. “The system was powered by eight men who would turn this massive wooden shaft connected to ropes. It could hold more than 600 pounds!” 

“Oh come on,” Derek says, his hand falling to his knee. “You’re telling me you’re actually interested in the mechanics of ancient elevators?”. 

Hotch glances at Morgan, silently agreeing with Derek’s skepticism. 

“Derek Morgan…” you feign offense, placing a hand on your chest. “Don’t act like I’m not curious about knowledge. At least Spence’s got something interesting to say.” 

Spencer blushes faintly, appreciating your defense. 

“Hey, I know facts too,” Morgan says smugly. “How about there being 7000 languages in the world today.” 

“The overall number is actually closer to 8000,” Spencer corrects him. “You only counted verbal communication.” 

“You guys are going to have a facts competition now?” You ask, bewildered. “It’s way too hot in here. I need some light conversation.”

“I agree,” Hotch mutters. “It is getting a little warm.”

You glance up at the AC in the corner of the elevator, which is clearly not working. It probably shut down along with the power. There’s a brief silence before Reid speaks up again. 

“I never thought I’d be trapped in an elevator with my colleagues,” he muses. “It’s a little cliché.”

“Cliche, how?” Hotch asks, intrigued despite himself. 

“You know how, in movies, a group of people get stuck in an elevator and they have to learn to overcome their differences to escape?” 

You shake your head in confusion, “I think I only know the dirty movies where they get stuck in an elevator,” you laugh. 

Spencer blinks at you, clearly thrown off. Derek chuckles at the scene, and even Hotch manages a faint smile. 

“I should’ve known you’ve only watched the dirty ones,” Derek teases. 

“What about you, pretty boy?  Ever seen a dirty movie?” He asks Spencer, grinning. 

Reid looks flustered. “I grew up in Vegas… I’ve seen some things.” 

“Ah, Vegas,” you say, sighing dreamily. “The place where you can’t drive for a minute without seeing a giant porn billboard.”

Morgan grins, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “Sounds like my kind of place.” 

You laugh and kick his leg playfully. Morgan winks at you, enjoying the lighthearted banter. You glance up at Hotch, who is still the only one standing. 

“What about you, Hotch? What’s your favorite dirty movie?” You ask with a mischievous grin, but your expression quickly drops when you see his stern look. 

“Watch it, Y/L/N.” Hotch warns.

“Come on, Hotch,” Derek says. “Let loose a little!”

“See it as the universe’s sign.” I press on. 

“How is being stuck in here a sign of the universe?” Hotch asks, brows raised.

“Well, no way would you willingly take a break yourself. Now the universe got you stuck in here and is forcing you to relax,” you explain, with a playful gleam in your eyes. 

To everyone’s surprise, he slowly lowers himself to the floor, sitting down next to you. 

You exchange surprised looks with Derek and Spencer. All amazed at how you managed to get Hotch to sit down.

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, scared to say something that will make Hotch change his mind. You’re glad he joined you, but it’s hard to ignore the rising temperature now that another person is sitting in close proximity to you. 

“How long has it been?” you ask, fanning yourself with your blazer. “I’m starting to sweat.”

“Thirty-five minutes so far,” Derek replies, following your lead and fanning himself. 

Hotch looks mildly uncomfortable, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Spencer, however, looks the most miserable using the collar of his sweater vest to wipe his face. 

“You guys should take your jackets off,” you suggest, eyeing Morgan and Hotch. 

You don’t need to tell Derek twice, as he removes his jacket, revealing a black short sleeved shirt that looks a lot more comfortable. Hotch looks reluctant to do the same, but eventually gives in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. You take a peak as he reveals his broad, muscled shoulders for a moment, before readjusting his shirt. Hotch notices your glance and his eyes shoot up to yours, catching you in the moment as your cheeks flush. You quickly look away. 

“Oh, she’s enjoying the view, alright,” Derek smirks and you give him a warning glance.

“Shut up. I was just surprised Hotch would give in.” 

Morgan grins and nudges Hotch with his elbow, “Look at that, Hotch. You’re surprising us all today. First you smile and now you’re taking your jacket off. What’s next, dancing a jig?” You and Spencer snort at his comment. Hotch rolls his eyes at Morgan’s teasing but can’t help a small smile from appearing on his lips. 

Spencer struggles with his vest and you give him a hand. “Here, let me help you”, you say as you scoot closer, pulling the vest over his head. The fabric feels soft, but incredibly warm in your hands. You don’t know how he managed to keep it on for this long. Reid is taken aback for a moment, but mutters a soft thanks. Morgan and Hotch watch the exchange with interest, clearly amused at the sight of you being so forward with Reid.

“Now it’s your turn, you’re the one who insisted,” Morgan states, and you can’t help but agree as you take your blazer off, giving a satisfied hum at the immediate relief.

“I’ll open up some buttons too, if you don’t mind,” you announce as your fingers start working on your blouse. You don’t give them a chance to respond, since it seems only fair. Their eyes widen at your gesture, all of them staring at the sight of your blouse slightly opening up. Morgan lets out a low whistle, “Now that’s a nice view.”

“You’re insufferable,” you scoff as you stop unbuttoning, showing just a hint of your lacy bra. Morgan’s eyes linger on the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Hotch and Reid look like they’re struggling to keep their cool. Reid is the most flustered of all, turning bright red as he focuses on his hands. Morgan glances around at the others, seeing them struggle to keep themselves composed. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, enjoying the effect you’re having on them. “You know, you’re driving all of us a little crazy here, sweetheart.” 

You let out a small huff, “Give me a break. You’re wearing shortsleeves, I’m the one wearing a blouse.” 

Hotch speaks up, his gaze lingering on your blouse. “That blouse does seem a bit warm.” 

“Thank you!” You say, glad someone is on your side. 

Hotch eyes stay focused on you though, or specifically the bit of exposed collarbone and the lace that’s hugged around the swell of your breast. Your breathing heaves when you find Spencer taking occasional peaks as well, watching with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, finding difficulty in looking away. 

“Let’s just all take our shirts off, I want it to be fair”, you quickly exclaim, done with the heavy tension that’s driving you crazy. Hotch and Morgan exchange amused glances as Spencer eyes turn big, taking in your proposal. 

“All our shirts, are you sure about that?” Derek asks, a hint of surprise in his voice. 

“Then at least you won’t eye me like that.” 

“Oh, I think I’ll eye you only more.” Derek teases, licking his lips. 

“Just take your damn shirt off.” 

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty.” He says as he lifts his shirt off in a smooth motion. It’s a known fact that Derek is jacked, but seeing him in a setting like this, abs glistening with sweat and pupils still dilated from looking at you, is on a whole ‘nother level. 

You’re glad the attention is taken away from your peering eyes as Hotch follows suit, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a clearly defined muscular chest with just a hint of hair. You start doubting your suggestion as it feels like the room is only growing hotter. You look over at Spencer, seeing whether he’ll be the next. Spencer hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between the other’s bare chests and your unbuttoned blouse. His chest heaving with his breath, suggesting that he’s more affected than he’s letting on. 

“Come on, pretty boy. Join the party.” Derek says.

“I’ll go first,” you assure Spencer, not wanting him to suffer under peer pressure. Your hands start working on the buttons. Spencer’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him.

“See, it’s not that hard,” you reassure Spencer, folding your blouse and placing it next to you. 

“I don’t know about that. You’re making things pretty hard, baby girl.” Morgan comments, making you laugh. 

“You’re way too dirty for your own good.” 

Morgan grins. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. You’re looking mighty tempting right now.”

You softly smile at the compliment and focus back on Spencer. “You’ll feel a lot cooler, I promise,” you encourage. 

“I don’t know. I’m not as… toned as the others.” It hurts you to hear how he’s comparing himself to his colleagues. 

“Do you truly think I care about that?” You ask him. “It’s not a competition. I just want you to feel comfortable,” you speak genuinely. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of mockery or deception. When he finds none, his face softens and he nods. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a body no less impressive than the others. 

“Not too bad, pretty boy. You’re looking pretty good without that vest on.” Derek compliments. 

“You do,” You agree, as you fold his shirt and place it on top of my blouse. Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, grateful for your help. Glad he decided to take his shirt off as he felt the cool air hit his chest, “Yeah, that does feel better.” 

You look around the room, the scene for sure one to be put down in the history books of the BAU. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve entered a new step in our colleague bonding,” you awkwardly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but the air feels charged with an unspoken tension that’s impossible to ignore. You can feel their eyes on you, the way they linger, the weight of their gazes following your every movement. You try to ignore it, to stay professional, but your body betrays you. You shift slightly, adjusting your skirt, and that’s when you feel it - the subtle brush of Hotch’s fingers caressing your arm.

You swallow hard as you look away. The air around you is suddenly too tight. You want to curse your body as your nipples harden under his steady gaze, there being no way to blame it on the cold. Derek notices the exchange and leans in, the heat between you two palpable. 

His voice is low and husky, “You're all worked up, sweetheart. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.” 

Your pulse quickens, the sound of your heartbeat almost drowning out his words. “I’m not the only one,” you counter, voice quieter, but the challenge in it is unmistakable. You feel Spencer shift next to you, his body tense as he feels like he’s been caught staring at your chest. “Don’t be shy, genius,” Derek teases. “We’re all thinking the same thing right now.” You can’t help but smile at Spencer’s flustered look. “It’s… It’s hard not to, when you-” He cuts himself off, his voice faltering as his eyes dart away from your breasts. 

Hotch is still standing by the door, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the dynamic play out. “We’ve been stuck in here long enough. I think it’s safe to say we all want and feel the same thing.” The air thickens with desire as he dares to say the thought that’s been occupying everyone’s mind. You glance at the others, seeing how Spencer is adjusting himself in his pants and the way Derek is watching you, his gaze so intense it almost feels like he’s touching you. 

“Guess it’s only fair if we all just… give in to it,” you murmur, your eyes flicking between them. The suggestion is there, unspoken but understood. 

From there on everything feels like a blur. You hear Hotch growl behind you as he wraps his bicep around your neck, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours. You whimper against his mouth, which gives him the opportunity to let his tongue slide in. You welcome his tongue with yours as your hand moves to squeeze the arm around your neck, making full use of the circumstances to feel up on his muscles. 

“You’re always driving me crazy when wearing this skirt,” Hotch groans in your ear as his teeth pull on your earlobe. You can find no other way to respond than let out a high pitched sound of enjoyment as his free hand kneads your ass through your pencil skirt. Spencer watches the scene unfold in front of him. How his boss roughly grabs and kisses you, manhandling you. 

 “I- I don’t know about this…” Spencer stammers. 

Morgan turns to him, breaking the intense gaze he had on you and Hotch. “Don’t worry Reid, she’s enjoying it.” 

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, uncertainty in his voice as Hotch is pulling on your hair, giving him access to plant kisses and bites on your neck. 

Morgan grins, “Let me show you how sure I am,” he says as he steps towards you and Hotch. He rolls your skirt up to your stomach and lets his fingers slide over your panties, cursing when it easily slips between your folds, creating a wet sound. You moan at the friction, not in the state to feel embarrassed by how wet you are. 

“See Reid, she loves it,” Derek points out, licking his lips as he pulls your damp panties to the side. Spencer lets out a groan as Derek reveals your glistening pussy, his hand subconsciously squeezing the bulge in his pants for any form of release.

“Let me see,” Hotch insists, removing his lips from your neck. Derek slides a finger through your folds and proudly displays the stickiness to Hotch. 

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?,” Hotch whispers, his nose pressed against the side of your face. “Just been begging to get in a situation like this so we could all fuck you the way you deserve.” You whimper at his dirty words and hot breath on your skin. Your legs feel like jelly as he grinds himself against your ass. Derek continues to apply pressure with his hand as he lets his fingers rub up and down your lips and clit. 

Spencer’s eyes are burning holes in your chest. He just can’t understand how no one has touched your lovely tits, while they’ve been teasing him the entire time. 

“You can come here Spence,” you purr, hypnotizing him to walk towards you. He swallows as he’s close enough to touch you, close enough to hear all the little sounds you’re making as you’re being touched all over. 

“Can I-?” You don’t let Spencer finish his question as you quickly nod, throwing your head back as his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a direct spark of pleasure to your clit. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers mostly to himself in awe as he cups your breast, the shape fitting perfectly in his large hand. 

“Thank you,” you whisper back. It’s ironic how his sweet compliment is the thing that's making you shy.

Derek slips a finger inside of you with ease, and you bite your lip to hold back your mewls. “Don’t do that. I like the way you sound.” Spencer encourages, resulting in another moan from you, loving the effect his words have on you. 

Hotch unclasps your bra from behind and Spencer helps him by pulling your straps down, letting your breasts fall free. Hotch grabs your left breast, kneading it with his strong, calloused hands as he rolls your nipple in between his fingers. Spencer uses the momentary distraction to bend down and experimentally licks your nipple, humming at the sensation. He gives a couple more licks to your breast as he pulls your nipple in between his lips, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud. 

You feel overwhelmed by the way all of your erogenous zones are stimulated at once; Hotch licking and biting on your neck and ear, while massaging your breast and grinding his hardness against your ass. Spencer’s swollen lips and wet tongue tracing over your nipple as Derek caresses your thighs as he adds a second finger into your pussy. You realize that this is what pleasure is supposed to be like. The zones on your body are all connected and you haven’t experienced true bliss until those spots get triggered at the same time. 

“Morgan, is she ready?” Hotch asks, breathing heavily. 

“More than ready, sir,” Derek grins as he takes a step back. He lets his fingers slide out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but then Hotch turns you around so that your chest is pressed up against the elevator doors where he was standing. 

“I need you for myself,” he groans. Derek tosses a condom from his jeans and Hotch catches it, ripping the package with his teeth while pulling his trousers down to his knees, not wanting to let a single moment go to waste. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he slowly enters you. 

“Oh my god… I feel so full,” you whine and you swear you could feel him grin as you register that he’s not even fully inside of you. You let out a long breath as you feel his balls make contact with your ass. 

“You’re doing okay there, princess?” Derek chuckles and you nod. Hotch slowly moves his length out of you as he slams his hips back in with a groan. You gasp as you wrap your hand around the back of his head, keeping yourself steady as he continues thrusting into you. His growls feel hot against your neck. His sweaty chest pressed up against your back, leaving you completely in his grasp.

“You feel that angel? How your pussy swallows my cock?” You let out a cry as you nod your head in agreement. 

“I don’t understand Y/N. You’re a big girl, use your words.” 

“Oh god…’’ Your head spins as he pounds into you. “I’m not going to tell you again Y/N, use your words.” He orders. 

“Yes!’’ you cry out. ‘’God yes Aaron, it feels so good. I can feel you so deep inside of me.” 

“Say my name again.” He moans as his hand trails down your stomach until it reaches your swollen bud. “Aaron, please… I’m so, so close.” He gives some quick taps to your clit, making you squirm in pleasure as your knees give out. His strong hands grip you by the waist and he hoists you back up on his dick. “I’m almost there honey, you can keep it up, be good for me.” 

You let out a string of whines as he uses the palm of his hand to swiftly move against your folds, indirectly bringing pleasure to your clit. You can’t take it any more, pressing your nails into his arms as you crouch down in front of him, shaking as your release hits you. Hotch groans loudly as his dick slips out of your pussy. His dick twitches as he takes off the condom, painting your back with hot spurts of cum.

You have your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as you’re still riding down your orgasm. You hum as you feel the soft material of Spencer’s sweater vest against your back, cleaning you up. 

“You okay?” Spencer asks, kneeled in front of you. You nod your head and softly smile at his tenderness. 

“Yeah. I feel really, really good.” You answer, making Spencer return your smile. With him in front of you, you notice the visible outline of his bulge pressed against his thigh and reach out to touch it. Your fingers lightly brush over his length, causing him to shudder. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask sensually, looking in his eyes. 

“Not really,” he responds, taking you by surprise. He sees your expression and quickly corrects himself. “It’s not like I don’t want you to! I’d- I’d love you to do…”, he’s not actually sure what you planned on doing to him. “Whatever you would do. I just-,” his voice softens, meeting your gaze. “I really need to know what you taste like.” 

Your cheeks warm, feeling your arousal grow. “Okay,” you exhale. Spencer extends his hand, helping you up. You find your blazer and bundle it up for Spencer to lay his head on. You’re amazed at how willing he is to get down on the floor, ready to eat you out in a very nontraditional and arguable unsanitized way. You hover over his face as you get down on your knees, letting out a hum as his breath tingles your pussy. Spencer kneads your calves and runs his hands up the back of your thighs. He tilts his head up, placing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

“Feels good,” you mumble. Spencer responds with a hum against your skin, the vibration causing you to moan. He grabs your thighs, slowly pulling them further apart. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he admits, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe up your folds. You moan, arching your back. Through hooded eyes you spot the figure of Hotch. He’s sitting against the wall in front of you, lazily stroking his half hard length as he stares at you. 

Just when you were about to question where Morgan was, you catch him in your periphery. He holds your gaze as he approaches, coming to a stop right in front of you. His belt buckle hangs open, but it doesn’t look like he’s touched himself. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to take up on that offer genius here denied.” You grin at him, hands reaching out to his belt. Spencer is keeping himself busy, licking and sucking up your juices. You pull Derek’s pants down, gasping as his dick springs free, slapping against his happy trail. You groan in delight as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He tilts his head back at the contact. “Fuck baby, your hands feel so warm and soft.” You lean forward and let some of your spit dribble down on his dick, making him hiss. You move your thumb in circles over his tip, mixing your saliva with his precum. When it feels like it’s wet enough, you move your hand up and down his length in a steady motion.

His tip grows red and you cannot resist licking your lips before putting your mouth on him. He feels heavy in your mouth as you take him in deeper, stimulating him with your tongue as you suck. His hands tangle in your hair, holding you as he moves in sync with your movements. 

Spencer moves a hand up the curve of your ass while he uses the other to unbuckle his belt. He slides his hand in his pants, rubbing himself over his boxers as he relishes in your taste. His lips nibble on your labia as his nose tickles against your clit. 

“Don’t get distracted, baby girl,” Derek states, softly pushing your head back down. You swallow around him and try to up your pace. Derek takes your breast in his hand, massaging it. As your nipples harden he takes one in between his fingers, pulling on it. You gasp at the sensation, making his dick slide deeper down your throat. 

“Fuck! Right there baby, that feels so good,” he pants. You blink away tears, continuing the steady movement of your head and swirls of your tongue. 

Spencer’s dick starts feeling too hot in his boxers and he pulls it out, so that it lays against his stomach. Your pussy is absolutely dripping because of the swipes of Spencer’s tongue and the taste of Derek in your mouth. Spencer can’t keep up with licking you clean, your wetness dripping down his chin. He reaches out to grab his length, the skin to skin contact overstimulating him. 

You notice Spencer getting restless underneath you. Derek’s dick pops out of your mouth. “Are you okay, Spence?” You ask. He hums against your clit in response, you let out a high pitched moan and instinctively bend your knees. “Sorry,” you apologize as you want to tilt your hips back up, but Spencer pulls you back down by your thighs, making you sit on his face.

“Oh god…” You moan as he starts devouring you. He keeps a hand firm on your ass as he starts jerking himself off to the beautiful sounds that you’re making. You lazily tug on Derek’s cock, too distracted by Spencer’s tongue. 

“Oh Spencer, I’m going to cum,” you whimper, mouth open and brows furrowed in pleasure. You start grinding yourself on his tongue, seeking your release. You find the perfect spot and Spencer presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, as you fall undone. Spencer laps up your juices and squeezes the load out of his dick as it splatters on his belly. You lift your hips to give Spencer some space. He moves away, joining you on his knees as he sits behind you, pressing featherlight kisses to your back. 

“I’m not gonna last that much longer,” Derek announces, who’s been stroking himself to your orgasm. “Come here, then,” you invite as you take him back in your mouth. Placing a hand on his thigh for support, you use all of the energy that is left in you to suck him off. Your free hand reaches out to play with his balls, which seems to be the trigger for him.

“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m going to cum!” He groans deeply as he fills your mouth. You quickly swallow his load, eyes watering as he pulls you in by your head, needing your lips on him as he rides out the aftershocks. 

“Fuck… You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He sighs, letting go of your hair so that you can catch your breath. 

-

“Who the hell is in there?” 

The voice outside is sharp and gruff. Everyone’s heads whip around, startled. Hotch swiftly buckles his belt as he strides towards the elevator doors.

“This is SSA Aaron Hotchner of the BAU. I’m stuck here with three of my agents.” 

The voice responds quickly, dripping with disbelief. "Why didn’t you morons use the emergency button?"

Your colleagues look at each other, then shift their gaze to you, all with accusing looks plastered on their faces.

"Hey, don’t look at me! I’m the first one that pressed the red button!" You say in defense. 

The voice outside huffs in frustration. "Red? It's a black button."

You blink in surprise, your gaze snapping to the panel. You crawl up to get a better look, and sure enough, there's a black button, boldly labeled ‘EMERGENCY.’

"What in the world?" you mutter under your breath. "Then what the hell is the red button for?!"

The voice outside laughs sarcastically. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I’ve been working here for six months. Don’t blame me because you can’t read." He pauses, clearly shaking his head. "FBI agents, my ass."

You blink in disbelief. You share an incredulous glance with Derek, then burst out laughing, your frustration giving way to amusement. "Seriously?" you mutter, shaking your head. 

Derek notices how Spencer’s been unusually quiet. “Speak up, kid,” he urged. 

“I’ve known what the buttons do the entire time,” he says, voice casual.

You and Hotch both turn to look at him, eyes wide. “What?!” You both exclaim at the same time. 

Spencer shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you about those movies where people overcome their differences to try to escape. I wanted to see how we would solve it.”

Derek’s mouth drops open. “You’ve been sitting here the whole time knowing exactly what to do and didn’t say anything?!” 

Spencer smiles, looking almost proud of himself. “It’s a team-building exercise,” he says matter-of-factly. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it.”

You shake your head, laughing in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Reid.”

As if on cue, the elevator jolts, and the soft ding of the doors opening fills the space.

[luulapants]

If there's one piece of advice I can give to fic writers who feel discouraged by the "content creation" culture and lack of community engagement in modern fandom, it's to try writing for an audience of one.

And I don't mean write for yourself!

Find one weirdo friend that enjoys sharing ideas with you, and write fanfiction for them. Get to know their taste, and tailor your writing to it. One person who will message you while reading your stuff and want to discuss it deeply and dig into and challenge your ideas - they will give you more creative satisfaction than a hundred vague, vacant comments of praise.

Maybe some other folks will end up reading and enjoying your work! If they do, they will probably have more in-depth things to say, too, because you'll be writing deeply on a specific set of concepts, not creating broadly palatable, derivative, marketable drivel meant to appeal to a large audience.

And if no one else reads it, you'll still have that one weird friend.