#cant a man just hook the shit behind his back. cant have shit in tumblr.

[toriwakes]

Pretty Boy 187 [s.r x reader]

summary: reader finds out that her new found tumblr crush is none other than her coworker.

content warnings: she/her!reader, mentions of alcohol

a/n: hi!! i’m so happy to be posting again. i’m really proud of this, so i hope you all like it! as always, let me know if you have any requests!

convincing spencer to get tumblr was tough. not only did he hate technology, he didn’t like social media either.

“it’s gonna be fun! c’mon, please?” you’ve been bugging him about it for about a week. “spencer, please just download it. if i have to hear (y/n) whine again i’m gonna loose it.” said derek, plopping is papers on his desk. “you like it when i whine.” you teased, causing derek to flash you a toothy grin. “alright! jeez.” you clapped of joy and jumped to help spencer, but he stopped you. “no way, i’m not letting you follow me.” he kept his phone facing away from you, your arms dropping to your sides in defeat. “fine. i’ll find your account somehow.” “we’ll see about that.”

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over the next few weeks you acquired a few new followers, only one catching your eye. ‘prettyboy187’ followed you on a quiet friday afternoon. the username caught your attention at first, but when you checked is profile? that’s when you were hooked. half of his pictures were just aesthetically pleasing: outside of his window, his extreme sugary coffee, some books. but others...

it was an excerpt of a poem and his hand was holding back the pages. you doubt he meant to capture it so beautifully. just his hand was godly. you wasted no time dming him.

hey :)

how desperate did you look right now? he followed you barley an hour ago. you cant stop staring at that picture.

hello

he didn’t sound happy. well, he didn’t “sound” anything, you guys were texting. but you could feel his tone through the screen. where you overthinking this too much? you shuffled into your bed, wrapping yourself in the covers as you pondered what to say next.

i just wanted to tell you i really like your account. are you a photographer or something?

no, i’m not. my friend convinced me to get this app and i noticed people post aesthetically pleasing photos on here, so i’m just doing the same haha.

ok, well you don’t post nice pictures. at least, not that type. maybe you’d post a picture of the snow or your bed, but every now and then you’d bless the feed with a picture of you in a swimsuit. it was more for opinions on the suit than anything else.

ohh. maybe i should start doing that.

how do you mean?

oh.

that sounded like a very judge-y ‘oh’. your eyes scanned your own profile to see what he could’ve hated. there was you in your favorite red swimsuit, a picture of your computer with netflix on the screen. the rest of the posts were of the same type, so you couldn’t pinpoint what the problem was.

what is it?

no, nothing. your recent picture. that’s a nice swim suit.

oh. that’s what he meant. you practically threw your phone across the room and squealed. thank the universe that he didn’t dislike you already. you shot him another text. just like that, you had your first ever tumblr crush.

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“what’s up with you pretty girl?” derek asked when you walked into work. you supposed you still had the blush on your face when pretty boy wished you a good morning and day at work. “nothing!” you said, obviously it being something. as if on cue, spencer walked in behind you also giddy. “what, you’re both sweet on someone now?” when neither of you responded, derek laughed. “what?” emily inquired, taking her seat. “spencer and (y/n) both have a crush.” emily’s jaw dropped. “spencer has a crush?” everyone broke into laughter, jj overhearing and almost dropping her files. “why is that so surprising?” spencer defended himself, derek giving him a ‘you know the answer to that’ look. “well?what’re their names?” he pushed. you bit your tongue. you didn’t even know his name. yikes. “let’s start.” aaron called. saved by hotch. thank goodness. “this ain’t over.” derek warned the two of you. yes it was. by the end of the day morgan would’ve forgotten all about this.

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you were right like always. morgan didn’t ask anymore about it, instead offering to get drinks. you turned it down, desperate to get home and text your boy. and you did, only at 11pm.

hey, sorry it’s so late. had a long day at work.

no worries, so did i. listen, i have a question.

this boy only sent messages that would make your heart drop. with a pacing heart, you texted back.

yes?

his ‘online’ button flashes on. then he was typing. then he was deleting. it seemed like hours before he responded.

what’s your name?

godamnit. you didnt have a display name because you didn’t want anyone you knew finding your account. what’s a fake name you can use? maybe...

lila.

why did you pick spencer’s ex’s name? you don’t know. you remember being insanely jealous of her because she got to kiss spencer in the pool while you were posted outside. your crush on spencer was still very much alive, but not as much as it was with pretty boy.

that’s a pretty name.

thanks. now you have to tell me yours ;)

you’ve never been so nervous for a text conversation in your life. for some reason, the back of your head wondered what it would be like if you were texting spencer. it was just a thought, though. spencer would never say half of this stuff.

call me morgan.

oh NO. please no... you stalked his profile again, terrified that you’ve been flirting with your coworker this past month. alas, your eye caught another body picture- this time of his arm. no tattoos like derek. not to mention he was much smaller. not that that’s a bad thing. you don’t think you’d ever be able to handle derek...

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you arrived at work yet again with a blushing face. “come on, you can’t keep hiding this from me! tell me something at least!” derek whined. “okay! his name is morgan. and i know what you’re thinking, and no, it’s not you, my boy is much more attractive.” derek’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape in fake offense. “that’s damn near impossible. ain’t nobody prettier than derek morgan.” spencer walked in now, again with a dorky smile on his face. “spencer. (y/n)’s got a crush on-“ you jumped to cover his mouth, the sound of your crush’s name muffled. “what- hey! no fair! derek gets to know but i cant?” spencer whined. derek held his hands up and sat back down, not wanting to get you mad. smart. “three can’t keep a secret.” was all you said before sitting down to clean your workspace.

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the new highlight of your day was texting morgan. you learned several things about him; he has a job he can’t specify for personal reasons, he really wants a dog but he feels like animals hate him. you told him about your cat joel, and how they could absolutely love him. he appreciated that.

if i tell you something, do you promise not to freak out?

depends. are you about to tell me you’re a serial killer?

no!

you giggled to yourself at your humor.

i wanna meet you.

you promised not to freak out, but you were freaking out. it was just now setting in that you didn’t know this man at all. where he lived, how old he was, even what he looked like. you took a few deep breaths and asked a question.

where do you live?

quantico virginia.

no hesitation on that one. he lived in the same town as you? you didn’t know how you’d be able to turn this down...

shit, me too. let’s meet up then.

i’ll send you a good place to get drinks.

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“every time you walk in here, you’re blushing. now so are your ears.” you beamed at derek, sitting at your desk before spilling. “i’m gonna meet him.” “wait what? are you sure that’s safe?” you rolled your eyes. “i’m an fbi agent. i’m not scared of a little danger.” you playfully winked and derek blew out a huff of air. “if anything happens, you know you can call me.” you pouted at your friend and nodded, appreciating his concern. spencer was spinning in his seat. “you happy too?” you asked. he only nodded and didn’t elaborate. you we’re going to press on, but hotch called you all in and you lost your chance.

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on rare occasions, the bau got tough cases with very happy endings. this was one of those cases. the plane ride home was extremely joyous and derek offered to get drinks again. this time, everyone accepted (all except hotch). you texted morgan telling him you were going out tonight and you wouldn’t be back till late. you laughed to yourself. it was like he was your boyfriend.

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the night was young and you were fairly tipsy. ok that’s generous, you were drunk. you were spending most of your time with penelope and it took you a minute to remember spencer. “ohmygosh! spence!” he was startled at your presence but he gave you that flat mouthed smile of his. “how are you! you’re my favorite scorpio.” you nodded as you said it, as if trying to convince him it was true. “thanks? i’m good. you’re drunk.” he pointed out. “no shit. hey!!! you never showed me your tumblr user! you gotta show me that girl you like, bet you she’s really sexy.” you didn’t even know what you were saying at this point, whipping out your phone and snapping a picture with spencer. “what are you doing?” he asked, watching you type. “posting this on tumblr! i want everyone to know you’re my favorite in the world.” he wanted to ask favorite what, but a ping on his phone distracted him. lila posted. he smiled and checked her page.

holy fuck.

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“(y/n)?” he asked, not looking away from his phone. “yess?” you responded. “what’s your tumblr?” what is your tumblr? “uhhh..i don’t know, check.” you tossed him your open phone, and his eyes only grew wider. “you’re lila?” the words rang through your ears like a siren. “what?” the word was breathy, you couldn’t add stability to what you said. spencer showed you his phone, ‘prettyboy187’ on the screen. “you’re morgan?” still no confidence in your voice whatsoever. your feelings were supposed to change, you weren’t supposed to like that morgan was spencer. but they didn’t. you didn’t even think about the fact he saw your swimsuit photos. you loved that morgan was spencer, and you still wanted to see him on the weekend. “are you mad?” you asked, not being able to stop yourself from sipping from your glass. “no. should i be?” you smiled. “no. do you still wanna meet up this weekend?” “yes. but i don’t wanna get drinks.” he wasn’t even drinking, why is he complaining. “where should we go then?” “my house.”

[cavalierious-whim]

A Flexible Approach [FE3H]

Sylvix | Canon-Compliant | War Phase | Explicit

Their shared tent is very small and Sylvain learns just how flexible Felix is.

A/N: Oh my God, I can't believe I wrote this (actually I can, and it's all because of some random prompt I saw on tumblr, whoops). As always, it's Sato's fault, but I think by now I've just accepted this as part of my daily life. Read here on A03 for better formatting and follow me here on Twitter!

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Sylvain’s irksome at his best moments and downright infuriating at his worst.

Felix just wants to get off. They’ve been too busy with war; slogging it through marshy battlefields, days on end in tents, and no privacy. Barely enough time to wash up with dirt-tinged water and pass out before being up at dawn to march off again.

And it isn’t that he wants to hurry. No, no, he wants to enjoy this, as he should. As they both should. There’s been little more than a few quick jerk-offs when no one was looking.

Sylvain won’t shut up, though, and it’s not in the good kind of way where he croons praise close to Felix’s ear, breath ghosting the shell of it and warming the skin there.

The tent is cramped, not really meant for two people. Byleth was mildly amused when Felix proclaimed he’d be sharing one with Sylvain, one of the few cracks of genuine emotion they’ve ever seen from him. And no one’s ever said anything even though Felix knows that they want to.

They aren’t exactly subtle or quiet for that matter. Try as they might.

Tonight’s one of those nights when they’re feeling extra frisky, blood pumping where it’s probably the worst. Straight into the gut and below. Felix wanted to sleep but then Sylvain slotted behind him, grinding their hips together, and-- well, he’s a simple man in the end.

Still, they don’t usually indulge to this point while out on the field. For a lot of reasons. It’s hot and sticky. It’s dirty and muddy. They’re covered in who knows what even after a quick rinse. Their tent is directly in the middle of the camp, strategically placed by their dear Professor because the more people they’re around, the less likely it is that he and Sylvain will be up to no good.

It’s turning out to be more work than anticipated, though, and part of Felix wishes that they’d just committed to the quick handjobs that they usually manage. The other part of him just wants to get railed. Preferably sooner than later.

“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought,” says Sylvain, a hand on the back of Felix’s thigh as he pushes at it.

“Shut up,” says Felix, annoyed.

“I’m just saying,” says Sylvain, fingers hooking underneath Felix’s knee and lifting it slightly.

“Ugh, this is too awkward--”

“Are you saying that you want to stop?”

“No!” Felix says it a little too quickly and a little too loudly, something that greatly amuses Sylvain.

He reaches out with his other hand to cover Felix’s mouth. Then he leans over, smirking. “Quiet, Felix. Weren’t you the one who said we’d have to keep it down?”

“You’re one to talk,” says Felix, quieter than before, barely above a hiss.

“Okay, okay.” Sylvain’s quiet for a touch too long, just looking at him. “Would you say that you’re Felixable?”

“That’s it,” says Felix immediately. He still has his own tent. It’s rolled up and tied up tight, hanging off his camping pack. “I’ll just handle this on my own-”

Felix’s words dissolve into an embarrassing squawk as Sylvain rubs the palm of his hand over his crotch, squeezing at his half-hard cock through the rough fabric of his smalls. It annoys him, how easily he turns to mush under such a simple touch. How little it takes for him to crumble at the behest of Sylvain.

“Bastard,” hisses Felix.

Sylvain laughs at Felix’s ornery temperament, and how his hips chase after when Sylvain pulls away, desperate for more friction, for a longer touch. “But I’m your bastard,” says Sylvain affectionately, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss against Felix’s face. “And you love it.”

Felix pushes Sylvain’s face away roughly. Then presses his hips closer, trying to get as much friction as possible, vexed at how desperate he’s become. His cock was already burning with need; Sylvain’s hot-handed touch only made it worse.

And Sylvain knows it, evident in the devious smirk that’s plastered across his face. Sylvain can read Felix like that well-worn copy of war tactics Byleth’s passed around to them all, so there isn’t a point in trying to hide it. Felix doesn’t. Sylvain’s hand still rests on the back of his thigh, thumbing across the smooth skin there.

“Lazy,” says Felix. “Are you going to just sit there or are you going to fuck me?”

Sylvain hums at that, amused. “Impatient,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the inside of Felix’s knee, his lips lingering there. Felix groans in aggravation. “It’s been a while so I want to enjoy this.”

“There isn’t time,” says Felix. Never enough time, he thinks like always. Sylvain’s right, though; it’s been too long since they’ve indulged in anything other than brief touches that are barely satisfying.

“There’s enough,” says Sylvain. “Certainly enough to enjoy ourselves.”

Handjobs are enjoyable, thinks Felix. Even their quick fucks in the dark, down and dirty when they’re too exhausted to do much more than pull their pants half-down. Felix understands what Sylvain means because even he misses those long nights where they pull apart each other slowly, fucking lazily as they burrow into the bedsheets. Sweet touches that Felix would never admit to and the soft kiss marks that he leaves behind to stake his claim.

It’s been too long.

Still, they’re in the middle of the camp and there are prying ears. “Sylvain,” hisses Felix lowly. “I just want to--”

“I know what you want,” says Sylvain, his hand finding Felix’s side, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Doubtful,” says Felix even though it’s a lie. Sylvain can play him like a lyre, plucking the perfect chords that will melt him right into a puddle.

Sylvain chuckles against Felix’s skin as he leans over, pressing his nose into the side of his neck. Their positioning was already awkward but it only gets worse as Sylvain dips lower, fingers ghosting along Felix’s ribcage. Felix doesn’t fight him when he tugs his shirt higher to suck a soft little bruise into his sternum.

“Never,” says Sylvain, insufferably confident.

Felix is about to retort when Sylvain’s mouth finds his nipple, tongue swirling around it before flicking the little nub there. Felix moans softly instead, arching into the touch, biting at his lip as Sylvain lavishes him with attention.

Damn him, thinks Felix. Damn this stupid dolt and his perfect mouth.

Sylvain thumbs over his other nipple, rolling it between his fingers gently. “So easy,” he murmurs against Felix’s skin, his breath ghosting his other nipple before tonguing it again.

“Fuck off,” says Felix.

“Fuck you,” says Sylvain, pulling back to look at Felix. He runs a hand down his chest, fingers trailing along well-honed abs before stopping right at the edge of Felix’s smalls. Waiting with infuriating patience. This is where Sylvain always has the upper hand-- he’s someone who can wait. Forever if need be.

Felix can’t. “Get to it, then,” he says, impatient as he ruts against Sylvain the best that he can, legs wrapped tightly around Sylvain’s hips. The tight space of their tent makes it damn near impossible and the lack of relief is making him irate.

“Alright, alright.” Sylvain tugs at Felix’s underthings, and after a series of awkward movements they’re off, Felix bared to the world. His cock is hard, already wet at the tip and dripping. Waiting for the good shit to start happening, to finally be sated.

“What if I’m on top?” asks Felix. He’s already moving when Sylvain grabs him by the legs and holds him there. And, he’s still mostly dressed, only the collar of his shirt undone. Felix can barely see his collarbone, just a peek of skin there.

Insufferable.

“No,” says Sylvain, his hands warm against the backs of his thighs. “Like earlier,” he continues, pushing Felix’s legs upwards, expecting resistance. There is none and Felix’s knees wind up near his ears, almost pressed into the thin mattress. “Shit.” It’s a soft little swear into the night, and Sylvain looks at Felix like he’s seeing him anew, far too delighted in this revelation.

Felix forgets entirely about his discomfort the moment he sees the unbridled lust that’s bloomed across Sylvain’s face. “You’re too slow,” he says, keeping up the annoyed facade he’s spent years perfecting.

Sylvain’s still dressed when he dips lower. Felix knows it isn’t comfortable for him either, it’s hell on his knees and there’s a high possibility that Sylvain’s feet are probably sticking right out the tent flap because he’s got absurdly long legs.

The moment that Sylvain presses a thumb against the skin just under his balls, Felix stops giving a shit about the embarrassment of getting caught. Fucking isn’t against the rules and everyone knows that they don’t share a tent because they’re close friends.

Sylvain’s touch is soft and sweet, far too slow for Felix’s liking, of course. He cants his hips up, trying to get his point across, trying to remind Sylvain that there’s a reason to all of this. “Hurry up,” says Felix, nodding to his pack. “There’s oil in there.”

Because of course there is. He’s learned to always be prepared.

Sylvain, the obstinate bastard, has other plans. He leans close to press a kiss to the tip of Felix’s cock instead. Felix groans in frustration, moans in pleasure, and nearly smacks him upside the head. And then Sylvain dips lower, tongue trailing across his balls, over the soft, sensitive skin there and--

Felix damn near kicks down one side of their tent when Sylvain licks right across his hole. The sound that Felix looses is unholy, a breathy little moan punctuated by a whine that he tries his damndest to hide. He fails miserably.

“Too loud,” murmurs Sylvain against him. But he doesn’t stop, tongue swirling around Felix’s entrance slowly, sinfully, and with perfected intent.

They don’t often do this; it’s always the wrong time and place. The goal is always to get off quickly and enjoy what they can when they can. Sylvain seems to want to indulge despite where they are, despite their early call time, even though he knows this kind of thing turns Felix into a mewling mess and that there are prying ears all around.

Sylvain’s thumbs at his ass cheeks, spreading them wide, tongue soft and warm as he licks across the entirety of his hole.

“Fuck,” says Felix, unable to stop himself.

“Not yet,” says Sylvain, cheeky in that insufferable way of his.

“Shut up--” Felix’s voice pitches high when Sylvain presses his tongue inside, just enough to get a taste of what he truly wants. He can feel the way that Sylvain smiles against him, tongue writhing as he licks into him, everything so very precise.

Sylvain’s perfection in bed. Even Felix can recognize it. Eager to please, patient in return, willing to change things up and do the unexpected; a winning combination as far as Felix is concerned.

A finger traces Felix’s rim, already slicked and ready to go. Sylvain hesitates, pressing in only with his tongue, and Felix sighs in frustration. He drops a hand to his groin to curl a hand around his straining cock, but Sylvain grabs his wrist. And holds him there with surprising strength.

“Not yet,” he says against Felix’s ass, tracing after the words with the tip of his tongue.

Felix’s head drops back into the shitty camping pillow, eyes closing tight with a crabbed grunt. Normally, he’d tell Sylvain to fuck off. Normally, he’d push his hand off, flip them around and take whatever he wants.

And Sylvain likes it when he does that, when Felix takes control. Felix also likes it like this, where Sylvain pulls him apart and puts him right back together, boneless and satiated.

Even if he has to bite at his lip to keep the edge off.

Sylvain pauses and looks at him, waiting patiently.

“Dolt,” says Felix, wiggling his hips. Ignoring the dark, sultry look that covers Sylvain’s face, and the way that his lips are slick with spit, glistening in the low light of the small oil lamp. “Back to work, you imbecile.”

To anyone else, it’d be an insult, but with Sylvain, it’s an endearment. He soaks it up heartily with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to the swell of his ass before swooping lower once more. This time, Sylvain slips a finger in next to his tongue, a slick and neat maneuver all at once. Just the way that Felix likes it.

Felix bites his moan off just in time and cants his hips down, pressing closer to Sylvain’s hand. Sylvain makes good use of his finger alongside his mouth. His tongue is wet and warm as it licks into him. His finger is insistent as he presses against his walls, avoiding exactly where Felix wants it.

Utterly infuriating. He feels the slow burn in his gut, the way that his pleasure coils just barely. Sylvain’s playing hard to get, trying to drag out his pleasure and make him beg. Felix won’t give in, refuses to.

“Useless,” murmurs Felix. “Good for nothing. I barely feel a thing.”

Sylvain hums at that as he adds a second finger, knowing that Felix is goading him. Sylvain plays right into his hand.

The burning stretch is exquisite, despite the generous amount of oil. Sylvain is always careful, always dutiful in his care. He also knows that Felix likes it fast and rough, the pull and tug at his rim. The way that he can feel it all in the aftermath, a reminder of what Sylvain’s done.

He’s only talked about it once and Sylvain’s never forgotten. He’s always been dutiful in his attentions after that, with touches that just barely sting in the best kind of way. Felix grinds his hips against his hand, his face.

Sylvain’s no longer tonguing at him, he’s watching, eyes blissed out as his fingers gently scissor in and out, pulling at Felix’s rim in a delicious stretch. Staring, entirely engrossed, pupils blown wide as his hand moves, thumb tucked against the skin just underneath his balls. He licks his lips, wanting to taste again.

Felix is too impatient for that.

“Enough of that,” he says with a huff.

“Never enough of that,” says Sylvain.

“For tonight it is,” says Felix.

Sylvain pauses and their gazes meet once more. Sylvain sweeps the length of Felix’s body, taking in the way that he’s curled tightly into himself, knees near his ears. The ruddy pink of his face, the red strain of his hard cock against his belly. The annoyed look on Felix’s face as he waits for him to just get to the point.

“Fuck,” says Sylvain, completely enamored.

“About time,” says Felix obstinately. “Been waiting too long.” Sylvain doesn’t answer, only sits up between Felix’s legs. Then Felix shifts, a hand dropping to Sylvain’s crotch, squeezing. Sylvain punches out a long breath, eyes slipping closed as he tries to keep his composure.

Sylvain’s easy to please, getting off on doing all the hard work. Felix rewards him by running his fingers over his still-clothed cock, gripping him tightly. The resulting whine is worth ten thousand wars.

“Good boy,” whispers Felix into the quiet of their tent. Sylvain’s cock twitches at the praise.

It’s too hard to pull his pants entirely off, so Sylvain settles on yanking them half-down around his knees. Felix looks, taking in the peek of his collarbone where it meets his shirt, and then the cut of his hips, then the swell of his well-honed thighs and ass from years of riding.

And then there’s his cock, hard and waiting, perfectly formed. It always sits well in Felix’s hand or throat, and there isn’t a thing better to fill him.

Sylvain lifts Felix’s legs, pulling Felix’s ass to his groin. Felix groans when Sylvain teases his hole with the tip of his cock, just barely pressing in. Already flushed and wanting, itching to fill that void left behind by his fingers. Then Felix curses as Sylvain presses in and slides straight home.

Annoying, how easily Felix loses himself in the feel of it; the stinging burn and pressure of Sylvain’s cock, how perfect he feels. Nothing else can compare. Not Felix’s fingers on lonely nights, or well-crafted toys bought from the coy Anna, each to the burning memory of Sylvain’s touch.

The answer is always Sylvain. Felix always runs right back to him, even when it’s against his better judgment, like now. Sylvain insists on leaning back as much as possible despite the cramped space. Insists on looking between them, to see where they’re connected, even in the low lamplight.

Felix knows they’ve made too much noise, that the entire camp is privy to what they’re up to.

Sylvain groans at the sight, hand slipping between them, thumbing over where Felix is stretched tight around him. “Perfect,” says Sylvain, pressing in again, far slower than Felix would like. And Sylvain knows it, that Felix is impatient and wants it dirty and fast and rough.

“Dolt,” says Felix in a hush, the word pinched as Sylvain executes a perfect grind. An expletive shortly follows as Felix’s head falls back against the shitty cot pillow.

Sylvain laughs and leans over again, pressing his nose into Felix’s neck. “So pliable,” he says, tongue sneaking out from his lips to lap at Felix’s sweaty skin. “Supple, malleable--”

“Intolerable,” cuts in Felix, earning just a bit of his bite back. He clenches tight around Sylvain who moans in response, biting at his lip to keep from calling out. Felix can’t help the smirk, desperate to gain the upper hand band.

But then Sylvain changes the angle, raising his hips slightly and plunging back in, relentless. A perfect assault against his prostate, a smooth and calculated motion that hits the target every time. Felix’s voice hitches and he curses again, nearly going slack. His legs tighten as they settle around Sylvain’s waist as he tries to move against him, tries to meet the thrusts.

“Supine,” says Sylvain, his breath ghosting his skin before biting at it. He sucks a bruise that’ll last for days. Everyone will see and Felix won’t care.

Supine indeed, thinks Felix. Lost in the feel of it, craving more. Gone is his decorum and carefully controlled demeanor in favor of sinking into the feel of Sylvain’s body heat, and the filthy glide of his cock.

Felix wouldn’t trade Sylvain for anyone else, not that he’d ever voice it aloud. Sylvain knows; he sees it in the moments like this even if Felix isn’t vocal about it. War is difficult, impossible even, but this one small thing they share is enough to keep them hanging on, if only for another day.

That, and Sylvain’s cock is utter perfection, snug within him, hitting all the right spots.

“About time,” says Felix, ever contrary even when he’s given in.

“Never enough, for you,” says Sylvain in a soft murmur, his hips pumping against Felix in a steady rhythm.

“No,” agrees Felix unapologetically. “More,” he says.

Sylvain grunts but pauses, pushing at Felix’s legs again, unwrapping them from where they rest around his waist. His hands find the back of Felix’s pale thighs and he says, “Hold them.”

Felix blinks and then smirks, lips crooked towards one side. “Oh, like that do you? That I’m flexible?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s obvious,” says Sylvain, looking between them as he slides in and out, pulling at Felix’s rim. Felix knows that he must look like a ruined mess; face flushed, hair mussed, his ass slick and stretched.

Sylvain loves it, loves him, so it’s the least he can do when he grabs the backs of his thighs and pulls them towards his chest.

“Fuck,” says Sylvain.

“You could fuck me more,” says Felix.

They both know that he can’t. The cadence of Sylvain’s hips is already losing its steady rhythm. Nearing his end, and Felix is too. He can feel the pressure mounting in his gut, that slow-stoking fire starting to set ablaze.

Sylvain’s gaze is glued to him, sliding over his form from Felix’s legs, to where he holds them, to where Sylvain’s thrusting home. Sylvain bites at his lip, worrying it between his teeth as he tries not to make too much noise.

They’re already too loud. There isn’t a chance in Ailell that the rest of the camp can’t hear the wet slap of slickened skin against slicker skin. The way that Sylvain pounds Felix into the mattress within an inch of his life.

Or so it feels.

“Good boy,” says Felix quietly, and Sylvain whimpers, eyes slipping closed like he can’t bear to look at him. Like he’ll come right then and there if he does. “Always good for me, always giving me what I want,” continues Felix, goading him further.

“What you need,” says Sylvain. He drops a hand to Felix’s stomach where it hesitates. “What else do you need?” His fingers twitch just above Felix’s aching cock where it’s hard and straining against his belly, bouncing slightly with every thrust Sylvain gives him.

“Not that,” says Felix. Sylvain’s eyes snap open, looking back at him. They meet gazes and Felix can practically feel the heat that rolls off him. Sylvain’s nails dig into his stomach, just barely, trying to ground himself.

“I want to come with only your cock,” says Felix, a dirty little whisper that fills the tent. “I bet that I could. You always do so well, know exactly how to push my buttons.”

Sylvain moans at the praise. He grabs Felix by the hips, anchoring him there. Felix still holds his legs up, still folded into himself, muscles burning with the strain. It’s worth the look on Sylvain’s face as he watches Felix like a starving man who’s finally getting a meal.

Sylvain’s a simple man and loves to be praised, so Felix keeps at it, murmuring compliments to his ego that he knows will drop straight to Sylvain’s gut. His hips stutter slightly as he loses his grip and the steady slide. It’s good, it’s so good; Felix can feel his body coiling tighter and tighter.

Felix comes first, a rarity in most cases. It’s usually Sylvain to fall with Felix shortly after, but this time his cock hits the right spot at the right time. Everything within him snaps-- his stress, his thoughts of the war, the idea of sleepless nights ahead.

All he can think, hear, see and smell is Sylvain and the way that they’re connected. Felix tightens around him, bucking slightly as he lets go of a leg. Sylvain’s cock pulls so deliciously as he fucks him through his orgasm.

“Sylvain,” says Felix, a scarce show of affection that he knows Sylvain will tuck away and keep the memory of as he often does.

“Fuck,” Sylvain says, still rutting into him. One second and then another, and then he’s tumbling after, chasing that high as he comes deep inside Felix.

“Shit,” murmurs Felix, “Sylvain, fuck.” His curse echoes Sylvain’s as he drops his legs. When Sylvain moves to pull away, Felix makes a pathetic little whine before squeezing his legs tight around him. “No.”

A gentle command that Sylvain ignores entirely. He smiles into Felix’s sweaty neck, pressing a soft little kiss there before untangling themselves. Felix doesn’t protest when Sylvain looks at his ass, thumb sweeping through his come and pulling lightly at his rim.

“Sylvain,” he says, warningly.

But Sylvain, the handsome devil, only smiles in return before bending Felix back again and dropping to lap at his hole. It’s a rare indulgence. When Sylvain partakes, he does so enthusiastically.

Felix is too sensitive, still thrumming from his orgasm. Still coming down from that high. The feel of Sylvain’s tongue, wet and probing as he licks up the mess that he made nearly sends Felix right back up.

“I wanted to enjoy this,” says Sylvain against him, “I said as much earlier.” A finger finds Felix’s hole, and then two, pressing in with more care than not. Teasing his walls as Sylvain laps at him.

Felix moans, falling back into the cot. His cock is filling out again; from the feel of it, from the intimacy of it, at the behest of Sylvain’s overt eagerness to eat him out.

Sylvain directs Felix to hold his legs again. “Just once more, darling,” he says, “Just for a moment.” Felix complies wordlessly.

Then, Sylvain spreads his asscheeks and dives right back in. Felix keens, not bothering to bite his lip, not bothering to hide it this time. Fuck the camp, he thinks, as Sylvain works his magic, doing his best to pull Felix right back apart a second time.

His tongue swirls around his rim and his fingers spread wide before pushing back in and hooking against that perfect spot. Sylvain raises a hand, hovering it over Felix’s cock. Felix huffs in annoyance, knowing what it is that Sylvain wants to hear.

“Please,” says Felix, “Again.”

Sylvain’s grip around his length is warm and tight as he jerks him expertly, perfectly timed with the thrust of his fingers against his ass. Felix can’t hold back the moan that escapes him, can’t help the way that he ruts against Sylvain’s face.

The fiery pressure in his gut is wearing thin again, tightening more and more. Sylvain’s fingers curl around the head of his cock, smearing the come that’s already there, using it to ease the glide of his hand.

The sounds are sinful, the way that Sylvain moans against him. Sylvain’s debauched, his face pressed against Felix’s ass like he won’t survive unless he laps up every last drop of his spend. Licking up to suck at his balls, before dropping right back to his prize. His fingers pump into him with a steady and gentle press, milking Felix’s prostate for all that it’s worth.

Were this a different night, Felix might test his limits, might see just how long Sylvain can keep him going before pulling away.

It’s already too late though, he’s already slipping over the edge again. The line of pleasure within him snaps and Felix is coming again, all over Sylvain’s hand, hips rising and falling with his overstimulation. Sylvain, mercifully, stops moving his hand, only cupping his cock.

He pulls back and presses a kiss against the meat of Felix’s inner thigh. He’s red in the face, eyes hazed with pleasure, mouth and chin slick with come. His come. Felix etches the sight into his memory for lonely nights to come.

The cleanup is clinical, perfunctory even. They wipe themselves off silently and manage to pull on their pants, at least. They’ve been caught with them down, even in bed, a few too many times.

When they lay in the cot once more, Felix is the one to spoon Sylvain, his preferred position. Wrapped around him like a clingy brat, nose pressed to the nape of Sylvain’s neck, smelling the sweat of their lovemaking.

Remembering their lovemaking. The best thing to go to sleep to.

“Tired,” says Sylvain quietly. He hasn’t blown out their tiny little oil lamp yet and his face is lit with a dingy orange glow. “But I bet the others will be too.”

“You are insufferably loud when you want to be,” says Felix, teasing. They both know that he was far louder. They also know that they won’t hear the end of it the next day.

“And you are divine,” says Sylvain. “Truly. I didn’t know that you could bend that way.”

“What do you think that I do when I train?”

There’s a brief silence and then Sylvain says, “Run things through with swords? Pointy-end goes that way, and all that?”

“I also stretch,” says Felix, scoffing. Sylvain’s thinking again, Felix can tell. Probably terribly dirty things like how and what he can bend Felix over. “Want to help me stretch next time?”

A question tinged with innuendo, something usually brought forth by Sylvain, not Felix.

“Depends. Will there be an audience?”

“That can be arranged, though I’d much prefer to have you all to myself. Perhaps late one night when the training pit is empty. The stars out and all that.” It’s about as romantic as Felix will ever get.

Sylvain only laughs before he leans over and blows out the candle.

[catnip-smuggler-radio]

Bloodlust

((Was chatting with a few new acquaintances in a LS awhile back and they said they couldn’t see Tray ever being violent.  I realized he hasn’t actually done anything violent in several months now...like I just realized it’s been over three!   He’s been going through a lot of personal growth though during that time, which has been awesome! But yeah the LS prompted me to write something so here it is.  As always is the case for violent or gory writing on this Tumblr, writing below cut for any not wishing to read that content.))

The doors to the ‘Coffer and Coffin’ crashed open as a man came tumbling though them.  The Seeker bounty hunter bounced across the deck and then down the front steps to slam hard onto the dirt and gravel of the Thanalan road.  The stars gleamed in their cold, fey light overhead as they watched the figure slowly pick himself up off the ground, blood leaking from his nose and mouth as he pulled a knife from his belt and spun back to face the open door. He swallowed as he heard a terrified scream suddenly replaced with a sinister ripping noise which in turn was replaced by at  a wet gurgling.  The bounty hunter felt his hand tremble as his eyes beheld the red-headed miqo’te tearing the throat out of his victim with his fangs.  Tray dropped the thrashing body in his hands to the floor and turned to look at the remaining bounty hunter, ignoring the man at his feet as they clutched at the gaping hole in their esophagus.  They were already dead, they just hadn’t realized it yet.  The bounty hunter watched as Tray slowly approached him, the smuggler’s jack-boots thundering on the wooden planks of the floor.  Tray slowly chewed the pulpy mound of muscle and meat in his mouth before swallowing the red mess.  Crimson coated his face and dripped from his chin as he gifted the bounty hunter with a sadistic smile that exposed his fangs once more. “Ye shoulda left like I told ye too when ye had teh chance. Ready to eat yer words, meow?” Tray purred, his head canted to the side as his lone, blue eye blazed with a feral hunger. “Go fuck yourself!”  The bounty hunter exclaimed, forcing himself to sound bolder than he felt.  Tray could see the Seeker’s knife-hand shaking.  “What, ye can talk shit when ye have two friends at yer side, but meow dat it’s just meh an’ ye, ye lose yer nerve?  What happened to ye swearin’ ye was gonna collect on meh bounty, eh?”  Tray licked his lips.  He continued to advance, the boards of the steps creaking under his weight as he descended them.  With each step forward Tray took, the bounty hunter took one step back. “Ye just like ever other fuckin’ Seeker male I’ve had teh displeasure of fuckin’ interactin’ with of late.” Tray snorted as his wicked-looking bone knife flashed from his belt and spun through his fingers.  The bounty hunter could see the years of dried blood coating the hooked blade’s surface.  “All talk an’ zero bite.” “Screw you!” the bounty hunter drew back and hurled the knife in his hand.  He turned to flee.  He had seen Tray butcher two of his comrades that night and didn’t fancy his chances alone against the ghastly apparition of feral bloodlust. The bounty hunter’s world was suddenly fire and agonizing pain as something bit into his legs and his Achilles’ tendon severed.  The muscle snapped up the inside of his leg like a bow-string as the suddenly useless limb wobbled underneath him and then gave out.  The bounty hunt went sprawling face-first across the Thanalan road for the second time that night and cried out in agony as he looked back to see Tray’s knife of bone sticking from his leg. Tray was right behind him, clutching at his side where the Seeker’s own knife had found a new home.  The seeker seized a rock, rolled over, and hurled it at Tray’s head in a desperate Hail-Mary attack.  Tray caught the rock in his free hand before he hefted his boot and brought it crashing down on the man’s knee.  There was a horrible shattering sound as the bone gave to the impact and the leg bent backwards at an unnatural angle.  The seeker screamed again and tried to do anything to help himself but another kick found his gut and took the air from him as he rolled over onto his belly.  A blow to the side of his skull dazed him and his head began to swim.  Pain, fear, and now confusion rattled around in his jarred brain as he felt a finger dipping itself into the head-wound as if it was an quill dabbing up ink. A few moments later, the Seeker felt his head jerked up violently by his hair.  His blurred vision was greeted with the sight of the rock he had thrown painted with the words:  “Failed Father.”  in Tray’s handwriting. “Told ye I was gonna make ye eat yer own words.”  Tray sneered as he recalled how the Seeker had used the insult not once but twice earlier, before the bloodbath had started.  The memory heated Tray’s blood further and he  crammed the rock into the other male’s mouth, heedless of any damage done to jaw or teeth.  Tray let the Seeker’s head fall to the ground before he stood up, lifted his boot up on high one last time, and then drove it down to merge skull, brains, and stone into one messy mix. The stars overhead watched as Tray turned from the twitching ruin at his feet and began to return towards the ‘Coffer and Coffin, pausing a few times to drag his boot in the earth to clean away the bits of bone and mush.  He came to the front door and met the horrified looks of the owner and the few remaining patrons.  He reached into his coat to pull out a rag and wipe away some of the mess on his face.  “Meh apologies for teh incident.” Tray said sincerely to the wide-eyed people.  He reached into his coat and tossed a large bag of gil over to the bar tender, who let the bag fall behind the counter and spill on the floor.  “Reparations for teh cleanin’.” Tray nodded as he turned and quickly made tracks away from the building and bodies before the Blade’s showed up.  Once he was a good distance form the bar, he gave a small whistle and then began to sing softly: ‘What do ye do with teh drunken whaler...”

[dearericbittle]

Sterek masterpost

So, now that I’ve written 30 (!) Sterek fics, I figured it was about time that I made a masterpost of my stories. You can find the full list on my Tumblr as well!

Been here before and it just feels right (strangers tonight) - (T, 3.4k) Summary: Derek Hale was an awkward teenager, but he grew into himself. He grew out of that pulling pigtails phase. Shame that being reunited with his old crush brings it all back. Even worse: Stiles doesn’t even seem to recognize him. Or does he?

Better that I break the window (than miss what I should see) - (M, 9k) Summary: Someone opened Stiles’ window. But he’s all the way on the 7th floor - how the fuck did that happen? Spoiler alert: werewolves are real. And really hot.

Bring on the monsters (bring on the real world) - (E, 11.1k) Summary: He was supposed to be making an impression on Lydia, but instead he’s making fun of a terrible werewolf costume. To be fair, those mutton chops remind him of Michael J. Fox in the worst way, and the guy didn’t appear to be too offended. He was too busy smelling Stiles for some reason. He really shouldn’t have forgotten cologne.

but that’s just a first impression (I could be totally wrong) - (T, 2.9k) Summary: Derek is on a really awful blind date (Laura will pay for this). But the waiter is really cute.

The coolest wolf in the whole wide world - (T, 8.3k) Summary: Stiles is surprisingly good at being a wolf. Like, super good at control, loves the drama of making weird entrances, and determined to try all the things. Because he has to find out what’s different about being a wolf. And Derek is going to be his Yoda, whether he wants to or not. Only Stiles is pretty sure Yoda never smelled this good.

Detective Stiles Stilinski and the Case of Derek Hale’s Mysterious Mate - (T, 5.6k) Summary: Mates are a thing. A werewolf thing. Which is fine and shit, but finding out that Derek fucking Hale has a mate? That gets to him. And seeing as Derek won’t tell him who it is, well… Guess that means this is a job for Detective Stiles Stilinski - if he’s not too distracted by his traditional banter with Derek.

Everything mixed up (and baked in a beautiful pie) - (T, 6/6, 42k) Summary: Stiles’ friends are more of a pain in the ass than usual around the holiday season. Just because he spends all of his time at his bakery, doesn’t mean he’s unhappy. So hiring a fake boyfriend seems like the perfect, simple solution. Instead Stiles stumbles onto a stupid quest to make Derek Hale happy. But surely that will all work out in time.

Fit hot guys have problems too (don’t objectify us with your male and female gaze) - (T, 1.7k) Summary: To Cora, 1:24 AM: im tired of guys just wanting to hook up with me. im like, guys, i know im pretty and i have a slammin bod and i love making out, but cant someone treat me with respect?? Derek is tired of being objectified. Enter Stiles Stilinski, hot mess who has an opinion about everything. Derek is surprisingly intrigued.

Gymnophoria - (T, 0.9k) Summary: Stiles is paranoid - he keeps feeling someone’s eyes on him. Surprisingly, no nefarious plans happen.

He got lost in my DMs (wanna be way more than friends) - (T, 2.8k) Summary: Derek is somewhat of an online hero, providing candid pictures of himself to anyone who wants persistent suitors to just go away already. Stiles… is suddenly surrounded by assholes who apparently really want to hear about how great his fake boyfriend is. Part 1 of Slide into those DMs

Heard you were tough (but you don’t look it) - (T, 3.6k) Summary: Derek is a protective Alpha, and whenever he sees a human in danger, he has to step in. Usually people are grateful. This guy? Not so much. 3 times Derek saves that ungrateful magic user’s life, and 3 times the ungrateful asshole saved his in return

Here we are two strangers (with nothing but this little spark) - (T, 6k) Summary: Stiles is only at this masquerade party for revenge. Theo Raeken has taken everything from him, and this is the only way he can get close enough to ruin his fucking life. He gets sidetracked by a mysterious stranger who’s looking for revenge of his own. Maybe they can help each other…

I might never be (your knight in shining armor) - (T, 2.9k) Summary: So, in Stiles’ defence, he didn’t actually know that the woman harassing the dude-sel in distress was an actual witch. Or that the dude in question was an Alpha werewolf who claimed to be able to handle himself. Stiles agrees to disagree on that one.

I take this magnetic force of a man (to be my lover) - (T, 6k) Summary: Derek is pretty happy with the mate he’s somehow chosen, even though Stiles has no idea - and no interest in Derek. But that’s fine. Except Peter just has to open his big mouth, because he clearly wants to ruin Derek’s life. Part 2 of Laura Hale is the best Alpha

I’d be a fearless leader (I’d be an Alpha type) - (T, 7.8k) Summary: Most teenagers would run off if they found a bleeding half-wolf, half-lady with red eyes snarling at them. But Stiles’ fight or flight response has always been a little fucked, and Laura Hale looks like she could use a break. Part 1 of Laura Hale is the best Alpha

I’m gonna light a spark (gonna hold my breath until the morning) - (T, 2.5k) Summary: Derek hates the bus, hates how people use it as an excuse to sit close to him and bat their eyelashes at him. And then this stranger who smells like home just falls asleep on his lap.

Lie under different stars (I’ve not seen you in the flesh for so long) - (T, 3,4k) Summary: In which Laura Hale is a queen of holding on to childhood mementos and seeing things her brother won’t, and Derek Hale rediscovers his love of Mischief.

The man who’s gonna marry you (make you feel alive) - (T, 4.2k) Summary: Only Finstock could marry the wrong people. Only Greenberg could fill out the papers wrong, but Finstock didn’t even check. It was like he wanted Stiles to be married to Derek Hale. And no one would want that, except maybe… Stiles.

No more dark sad lonely (k)nights - (T, 2k) Summary: Derek is an Alpha without an emissary, so his nosy betas made sure he attended the convention. Stiles is clearly in the wrong convention hall, because his Batman cosplay does not appear to be going over well.

Old you in the garbage (new you in display case) - (T, 13.4k) Summary: Stiles is lonely and desperate and suffering from a crush on the grumpiest librarian. So what’s a boy to do but cook up a ridiculous plan to get himself dated and/or finally get laid before the holidays? He just wants his She’s All That moment, okay? He never expected that the plan would actually help him get the guy.

Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) - (M, 11.6k) Summary: Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Shoot your shot when you see em (he’s already in my DMs) - (T, 3.9k) Summary: Derek may or may not be falling in love with one of Laura’s employees, and he’s only ever spoken to him on the phone. Stiles doesn’t even know his name! But apparently, he does know how to slide into his DMs. Part 2 of Slide into those DMs

Some Cupid kills with arrows (some with mistletoe) - (T, 9.5k) Summary: It’s the same thing every time. Derek Hale comes home, the town is in a snit, and Stiles Stilinski polishes his metaphorical armor and gets ready for a battle of wits. Not that he considers Derek’s comments particularly witty. Their friends are just tired of the sexual tension and the rampant egos, and they’re ready to do something about it.

Such great heights (corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces) - (T, 3.3k) Summary: In which everyone in the pack is together and alive, because fuck canon. In which Stiles is surprised that Derek’s super hearing fails him. He just wants to know how tall Derek is, why is that such a big deal?

Teach me how to thrive (i was a loser just like you) - (T, 4.9k) Summary: Scott was cool now - the Squip had made sure of that. Stiles? Not so cool. All he has left are his cryptic conversations with perpetually wasted Derek Hale as he desperately tries to get an evil computer chip from taking over Beacon Hills.

We were young once (innocent and fun once) - (T, 5,3k) Summary: So maybe making Lydia jealous is just an excuse for him to finally talk to Derek Hale - it’s been ten years and clearly that high school crush is not over. There’s just a lot more to Derek than he was expecting.

We’ll put on a show (Scotty has to know) - (T, 7.7k) Summary: Stiles is a stubborn asshole, determined to have fun in Europe even though Scott stays behind in Belgium because of a girl. So asking a stranger to make out with him for the ‘Gram? Totally the best decision he’s ever made, and not just because that’ll totally show Jackson (and Scott!). Shame he won’t see the guy again, though.

What it looks like to forget (it’s easier that way) - (T, 4.9k) Summary: He has no idea who he is, but the stranger with the whiskey eyes is calling him Derek. And the guy has been sitting at his bedside for three days, so he’s got some credit. Especially because the guy smells like he should be his - though that is a supremely weird thought that he probably needs to figure out first.

You want forgiveness (I’ll give that to you) - (T, 2.8k) Summary: Derek is running from the Alpha, suffering from wolfsbane poisoning and he’s clearly losing it. Why else would he be seeing his mother - and everyone else he might as well have killed himself. But Stiles can’t just let him get what he deserves. Stiles never leaves him behind, even when he should.

You’re moving me around you (I said darling hold me) - (T, 14,5k) Summary: Derek is the only beta in a pack of two, blaming himself for the loss of their entire family. When his sister pays someone to get him used to human contact again, Derek preps himself for a couple unwilling handshakes before he kicks the stranger out of his den. Stiles is… not what Derek expected.

[bogb0ng]

1 threw 85

Since a few have been answered already I’ll answer the rest 

1: Looks are not important to me so much i believe there should be some kind of physical attraction, but i’m more about personality! 

2: relationships are totally worth it to me! I’m not into hooking up all the time plus my SO usually becomes my bestfriend 

3: no Obviously not lol 

4: It’s very complicated…. I’m technically not in a relationship with the guy, but we’ve both said we want to be… 

5: I’m not really sure what it is, but i don’t think it’s love just yet 

6: technically I guess I am? 

7: absolutely I prefer to be committed to one person! Tbh they get all of my time an attention when i’m not around friends and family. 

8: he’s just a bit taller than me has this crazy sense of humor that I completely adore. He’s got this adorable smile, deep brown eyes and hair and is so god damn handsome whenever I get a picture I melt (I actually almost fell over yesterday because of this) 

9: a guy with a great sense of humor who adores me as much as i do him.

10: I’m not really sure. I prefer to know a person before I say I’m in love. 

11: surprisingly yes! 

12: depending on how bad it is I will if it’s something stupid like they broke their plans with me or gave away a minor secret behind my back no biggie i’ll probably forgive them, but if they cheated or something…. i’m gone believe me I don’t do well with that shit

13: kinda, kinda not? it’s hard because like i’m not mad at the people that i’m getting jealous over… i’m just insecure. oh well lol

14: yessssss ahah same guy but also a little crush on some one else i think, but they’ll never know 

17: Yes! if it’s a quick kiss i’m A ok with it, but i don’t make out in public 

apparently there’s no 18 or 19??? soo uhm yeah 

20: i try to shower every day sometimes I dont get the chance and I have to shower the next day, but I keep myself clean!

21: I don’t know… IF ANY OF YA THINK I’M A CUTIE AND HAVE FEELS SEND ME ANON HEARTS AND I’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER!!! 

22: I hope a certain some one is, but who knows for sure 

23: Yes are you kidding me!? People can’t do that?? like when i’m in a relationship holy shit i’m 110% into that person they become everything to me and also i’d never want to hurt some one in that way. 

24: I hope i’m at least engaged, but then again i could just be alone forever… so i guess if anyone wants to make a pact to get married by a certain age HMU Lmfao 

25: YESSSSS ugh i’m holding out on some one, but hey shit happens 

26: actually yes my Ex. and we’re still good friends. I also would not want to lose him. he’s an amazing person with a huge caring heart. 

27: I wouldn’t call it a poem, but it was a really long rant/letter to the man who loves me next. 

28: I’m not entirely sure, but my extremely mentally abusive ex probably did because a guilty conscience usually blames the other half. (he accused me of cheating and i would rather die than cheat on some one) 

29: No. never have. never will.

30: actually I have…. i’ve never felt good about my stomach and have always wanted to get it fixed some how, but i never will. 

31: yes I have. I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak 

32: I have many a time. you cant change some ones heart and thats fine! ]

33: obviously lol 

34: I mean I almost did once….

35: Of course I have haha

36: yes! in fact i almost dated him when we were in high school! 

37: yup…. and they told me, but i dated him anyways and what a fuck up that was….

38: yes!! omg i was in shock when it happened 

39: Yes, but they’d never know because I’m respectful 

40: all the time! i write to get my feelings out 

41: I have (and it was goooooooddd) 

43: my longest relationship was a year and a month or so. 

44: I’ve had a total of 5 boyfriend in my lifetime lol 

45: like 0 i was the human equivalent of birth control or some shit 

46: a lot with my SO at the time lol

47: 21! 

48: I’d probably tell them i’m really happy for them and wallow for a bit before moving on. 

49: I currently do not so i guess my favourite thing about the person I like is that goofy smile I get when i’m being cute lol 

50: I mean i don’t think i’ve met my true love so probably not?

51: there’s lots of people i would do anything for. i’m the type of person who drops anything for a friend in need.

52: Yes. a family member, my ex roommate. probably more, but you know what best of luck to them they’re gonna need it 

53. I’d hope not…. 

54: theres a lot of people i could never forget 

55: this one time a boyfriend of mine surprised me with a date where we drove all the way to one of his old home towns and he showed me around. he then took me to a dinosaur museum (which i love that shit so much) we walk through the entire thing and we got to the gift shop i went to the bathroom because it was like a 2-3 hour drive home and he bought me a stuffed T-rex and a cute keychain (i still have both)

56: 5 facts! I have a chubby tummy, long legs,a cute butt, thick thigs, pretty eyes, a cute smile and long/wild curly hair! and I’m very soft

57: I hope you realize that you turned out exactly like your father and you’re a pathological liar who deserves nothing more than whatever comes his way 

58: snacks! surprise adventures, cute snuggle days, HEAD RUBS!!! whispering cute things to me when I least expect it in public! 

59: Picture will be posted! 

60: If i remember correctly it was around 7 years 

61: their eyes and smile 

62: oh god honestly non sexual wise… run me a romantic bath. sexual wise…. we wont go there right now…

63: genitals touching other genitals? idk 

64: anything beyond joking flirtatiously tbh 

65: oh god whispering what they’re going to do to me. kissing down the neck and spine. those are just a few. 

66. Dominant and sub idk 

67: perfect date would probably be going out to a museum or aquarium and then going to a nice dinner 

68: straight 

69: I’m not really sure it varys 

70: Lots of things. whispering, slow kissing, touching 

71: ahaha this is akward my kinkiest wet dream was being tied up and dominated tbh 

73: just treat me like a princess for the day honestly 

74: some one who can lift me tbh 

75: sweetest thing was some one  brought me flowers to my work place and took me out for late night denny’s after a long anxious day. 

76: I guess making some one soup and cold remedies while they were sick 

77: as long as it’s legal and consensual then no biggie 

78: I almost was in a threesome once that was wild.

79: ah last time was some one got to hang out with a person i really wanted to hang out with but couldn’t because they’re too far away 

80: I tell my friends I love them at least once a day. so today technically. last time i said it and meant i was in love was at the beginning of the summer before my breakup 

81: Chris, dani, liam, hunter, and david  (only one of these ppl have a tumblr) 

82: my friend ash 

83: a guy named Jordan (he was my bestfriend in kindergarten)

84: distance was becoming too much for both of us

85: I mean technically I have (if you count online dating) but if not then yes probably 

thank you for asking!!!